#Could one set a similar story somewhere else and still be able to convey a similar effect and mood? Also yes. There are examples

[longagoitwastuesday]

Hi, can i ask you why in your opinion some people consider the moors a proper character in wuthering heights? Do you think the story would have been so different if it had been set in a different location?

I've wanted to sit on this for a bit to see if I changed my opinion/reaction, because I thought of an answer instantly. I'm going to be sincere, what I thought was "because people have not read enough (good) books".

I'm not entirely sure why people consider the moors a proper character because I don't think it works as one at all. I imagine a big part of the reason why is the appeal of the aesthetic and how powerful an impact it has had culturally and even in general in the collective imaginary, but I don't think that's exclusively due to Wuthering Heights. Trying to dig more, I'd say it's because of the importance it has for the characters, emotionally, narratively and symbolically. And, digging even more, I imagine it's due to the metaphysical bond and even ontological identification between moors and characters some people read into it.

Most if not all of these characteristics are typical of significant settings in books, though. They don't necessarily confer the settings the title of "character". And, as much abstract personality as they may have, in my opinion the moors are lacking something to be comfortable calling them so. In Wuthering Heights I'd say the house itself, Wuthering Heights, feels more like a character to me than the moors. Still, I'd say even then there's a certain something missing.

As much character or importance in ambience setting Bly Manor has in The turn of the screw, I don't think one could freely say it's a character on itself; that's sort of the situation with the moors in Wuthering Heights, I think. In comparison, Comala in Pedro Páramo, Hill House in The haunting of Hill House, Macondo in One hundred years of solitude or Vetusta in La Regenta, to name a few, feel a lot more like characters. They are books in which the settings themselves feel fleshed out with care, thoroughly developed like a character, and they even read as having a certain will of their own, as actively participating in the narrative at times. The moors in Wuthering Heights don't work that way. And it's not a bad thing. They don't have to, that's not their role.

Now, on the question about whether I think the story would be so different if set in some other location... I think the answer is both yes and no? Of course the book would never have been exactly the same had it taken place somewhere else, and the heather and in general the description of wildlife and vegetation are symbolically meaningful. But also, I didn't have a clear image of what the moors were when I first read the book. I imagined something infertile, isolated and cold, but that's it, and it worked. I didn't know how the English moors were at all.

I do think the isolation aspect is necessary to make Wuthering Heights, and I'd say perhaps even the cold and generally bad weather, but it's also true in a similarish way Pedro Páramo works with a place that is very hot. Ultimately it's up to the writer, and it will work if it's well written and well waved alongside the other parts forming the book. Wuthering Heights was waved with the moors in mind specifically, and it works. Would the story in abstract be much different if set somewhere else? Not necessarily, probably not, but it wouldn't be exactly Wuthering Heights, just as it wouldn't be if one were to change any other of its characteristics.

[minimeowsom]

Moonlight Chicken just ended and i can't deal with it.

So i cried, not today no today i laughed and squicked mainly. But yesterday or last week, the last four weeks of Moonlight Chicken were gut wrenching sadness. And just two weeks ago I posted a Post saying I was ready to throw hands if Li Ming and Heart don't get a happy ending. I was willing to trait everybody else's happiness to make sure the babies are happy. But now I think I can't stay with that. but more on that later. 

JimWen

So I saw a very good post about people not being able to really care for JimWen because they can't relate to them. And I agree, I am , let's say, around 10 years younger than them. I didn't have to deal with the struggles they had to deal with yet, they feel genuine and tragic to me, but not relatable. This is in no way meant to discredit Earth or Mix Acting, they were really good in this, I could feel especially Jims Hurt and anger a lot. But what I am trying to say is I don't feel like I am able to say something useful about their Relationship or characters because I don't know what I would do in their situation, I will leave that to people who can. moving on.

LiMingHeart

 LiMingHeart the Heart and Light of this show, especially in the first seven episodes they were the light to everybody else's darkness.They of course both had their on set of problems and struggles do deal with, but between Li Ming feeling misunderstood and Heart not feeling heard at all, whenever they were together they were shining, loving and supporting one another. I would say as a couple i can relate to them the most, (alan is also a strong contender here but we talk about him later) I am just like one and a half years older then someone who is just finishing highschool, and i had to explain to my parents that i have no idea what i wanna do after school, and coming from an academic household that is not what they wanna hear. me going to university was always a given to them. Li Ming's main conflict with Jim revolves around a similar situation. I can feel how misunderstood he feels, especially because Fourth is an exceptional young actor, he is so good at conveying his feelings through his eyes. I am baffled every time. 

And Heart with his parents just breaks my heart every time. The way they needed some eighteen year old kid , come in and show them how to love their son is so sad. But we love to see some character development and how in the end they not only learned sign language for him, but allowed him to go to the states with Li Ming.Gemini as Heart was fantastic too, the boy had three lines in this show, so his lines were his facial expression, the way heart signed (because we didn't get subtitles for what he said either) and his body language. And Gemini made you feel it all, the happiness with Li Ming, or the anger and frustration at his parents for not trying to learn for him.  I loved their story and the way they discovered first love between them, and as I said I was ready to let everybody else suffer to make sure they stay happy…. but then someone just went straight into my heart.

AlanGaipa

Alan just struck a chord with me. Not two Weeks ago I got out of a four year Relationship my Partner ended (for me) out of nowhere and I still have him in my life, because we have the same friend circle and we don't want to break it because of our breakup. So yeah how do you deal with your partner still being there but not really being there. So from the moment we got introduced to AlanWens story I felt with him, yes he had no right to act like Wen cheated, which he didn't, but Wen didn't really help the situation by continuing to sleep with someone who was obviously desperately trying to hold on to him. But somewhere along the story I just wanted something bright in Alan's life. not just for him, but for me , someone to help us heal. And who better than a boy who has so much love to give, who needs someone that recognizes that love and is willing to give just as much love back to him. Because we know Alan gives so much to his Boyfriend, maybe a bit too much for Wen but I am sure Gaipa can take it, and respond with the same amount.

This is also very much swayed by my love for FirstKhao and everything they do. Khao is such a talented actor when it comes to his emotions and his feelings. It is the first time I cried for a TV series in my life, when I saw him breaking down in the hospital after his mother died. 

And the way First played Alan gave me the Feeling of looking in an emotional mirror, because yes i know what he feels like and how hard it is to let go of five years of love.

But in the end we got crumbs of what their flirting and future might look like and it was enough for me to fall in love with them and feel like Alan will for sure find Happiness in him and maybe just maybe a Geipa will walk into my life too. 

At first i thought for sure they wouldn't give Gaipa and Alan a story, i was sure they would just go off to heal on their own, because we had nothing after Episode 6 and normally the show takes time to develop something as big as a Relationship, but maybe that's what they tried to tell us, not every Happiness takes as long as Jim and Wen, maybe you can meet the cute chicken seller boy, get his number, and ask him on a date in a couple of days. 

Something i thought after watching yesterdays and todays Episode was that they put it in because it is FirstKhao we are talking about, their friendship and especially their success as a couple, but that is not true, they filmed Moonlight chicken while the Eclipse Premiered, before First and Khao became the “Powercouple” they are today. Like they let the scene in where First cried when Khao sang, because that is what it was, because it was not in the script, First is just a huge softie for Khao.So I am even happier about the fact that in the end even both people that were left behind by Jim and Wen found happiness in each other.

Something Else i wanted to add was a very interesting post about the color coding of the show. Alan is seen in dark and Blue colors, taking it with him wherever he goes and even putting it on other people, it shows his sadness and loneliness even more, but the moment he meets Gaipa at the Funeral he starts to glow golden like the rest of the characters in love.

And as he leaves Gaipa and the Funeral and goes to leave it comes back, we then again see him in yellow and gold again with Gaipa at the bank and the restaurant, because Gaipa brings the light slowly back in his dark world. 

Conclusion:

Honestly 10/10 would recommend, for everybody, not only BL or Drama Fans, just everybody, i am probably gonna force it on one of my movie nerd friends, just because of the Filmography and the superb acting in this series

[itsclydebitches]

RWBY Recaps - Volume 8 “War”

Hello, everyone! Story time.

Yesterday food was delivered for my two idiot dogs (they’re thrilled about it) but, because it was delivered by Fed Ex, shenanigans were bound to ensue. These particular shenanigans involved realizing that the food had not been left at the front door like tracking said it had. Instead, it was down the very long driveway by the mailbox. Specifically, it was on a low wall beside the mailbox, currently inaccessible due to a mound of plowed snow.

Now, how the delivery guy managed to get it there I’ll never know, but given that our postal system is currently killing itself to get us our Amazon orders for Christmas, I shrugged, let it go, and resigned myself to lifting an 18 pound bag plus box over that snow without dying. Which meant that in reality I just dragged it, uncaring what bumps the bag might accumulate along the way. What are the dogs gonna do? Complain about presentation?

Snow successfully circumvented; I was home free!

… until I was lifting the box into the car, hit a patch of black ice, and was suddenly looking up at the sky, my right hip and leg screaming.

I’m fine. Bruised, but fine. It’s 2020. Did I expect to not fall? C’mon, Clyde. Be sensible.

The reason I'm telling you all this is because falling on ice at 10:00pm with an oversized bag of dog food was less painful than watching this episode. 

I jest... but only a little. To be fair to RWBY, it admittedly wasn't painful in any new way. Everything that's a problem this week has been a problem for years now: confusing motivations, changing semblances, unpersuasive character beats, etc. So in some ways this episode — especially as a hiatus episode — is rather underwhelming. I expected RWBY to do something big before taking six weeks off, but this episode simply set the (unstable) stage for what's to come. With the exception of Ren, nothing changed this episode, which makes for a rather "Okay..." note to end on. It's not inherently bad, it's just a bit of a letdown after hyping ourselves up over the expectation that something even crazier than grimm soup will happen. Which, to again be fair, is on us as opposed to the writers. But that feeling of, "If this was last week, what in the world will we get right before an unpredicted hiatus?" was palpable. Turns out the answer was, "A pretty tame episode." 

As always though, let's start at the beginning. This episode is titled "War" — straight to the point — and it's actually a little shorter than our last three episodes, adding to that "Okay..." feeling overall. We open on the outskirts of Atlas, amidst what appears to be a wheat field, or something similar. Upon reflection, it makes sense that the bubbled city would be able to grow things not normally growable in the tundra. This might also explain Cinder's strange beginning. Perhaps her orphanage existed on these rural outskirts and then she was brought into the city proper? We'll probably never know for sure, but at least this is a simpler answer than, "The Madame went off to an entirely different Kingdom to secure her child slave." Occam's Razor and all that.

Ironwood's army has assembled to hold off Salem's army. Wow, aren't we glad Ironwood invested in thousands of trained professionals rather than a handful of independent fighters? Seriously though, this is now a battle of numbers. May says later in the episode that Ironwood's forces are doing their best to assist Atlas, so they should go help Mantle... but that help only exists because years ago he recognized that the tiny class sizes of the Academies, this 

wasn't going to be enough if grimm attacks suddenly increased. Sure enough, now they're in a situation where Ironwood needs even more men to keep up with Salem's creation magic. The fact that he has any at all is crucial to what little hope is left. How do Jaune, Yang, and Ren think they're going to get the time to look for Oscar without everyone dying while they're gone? Because Ironwood's army is keeping the attack at bay. I love how the story keeps angling for the "Military people are evil" message while actively showing us how much a military is needed in this world. If Ironwood had been a generic Good Guy who dismantled his armed forces because others wanted to ignore that they've always been at war against objectively evil creatures — both the grimm and Salem — then there would have been nothing to hold Salem off until small team rescue/bomb plans could be implemented. 

But I'm getting ahead of myself. As usual. The army is on the front lines and one guy is scared enough that he's shaking. Can't say I blame him. As always, RWBY functions best when it leans towards horror, with skeletons rising alongside the normal grimm and intense music playing to convey the stakes. Ironwood watches the onslaught and immediately calls for a civilian evacuation into the subway system. Get people below ground, behind a few, defendable entrances, rather than wandering about the city where land or sky grimm can pick them off easy-peasy. Makes sense. Yet I'm already seeing fans make snide comments about how Ironwood is "still running," which just demonstrates how many viewers take the emotions of the show at face value — who is Good and who is Bad — rather than considering the situation and deciding for themselves. What's far more egregious than viewers enjoying a story however they'd like on a Saturday before the holiday though (seriously, my salt aside, no one has to enjoy RWBY any one way) is that RT again tries to paint Ironwood as crazy when he's... just not? Beyond the choice to animate him with scary expressions 

once he gives the order the soldier starts to say, "But sir — " and Ironwood yells for him to obey right now. The scene makes it look like Ironwood is doing something shady again. Here's this goon balking at the order, but we're not told why. What's bad about getting the people to (relative) safety? Why is this order treated like something to question at all? We're not told and, from what we do know, it's not something that would be questioned, so unless we learn something new post-hiatus, that line exists only to make Ironwood look bad. It's a (nonsensical) excuse to have another ally turning against him (slightly) and to give Ironwood the chance to look scary and violent again. Nevermind that his city is under attack and if a subordinate started questioning a completely sensible and time-sensitive order? I might yell too. 

So we're off to a great start. The above looks particularly stupid given that we immediately see the flying grimm arriving in a populated area, terrifying all the civilians there. Everyone bolts for the subway and we cut away from a man trying desperately to reach his daughter, unsure if either of them survive. But people want Ironwood to not use what few resources he has? See, this is why generic messages like, "You have to stand your ground" don't work. Sometimes there are situations where you should run and that doesn't automatically equal being a coward. It means you're smart enough to take the actions necessary to save as many lives as possible. 

Later on we'll have a similar issue with the message, "You have to trust people" when my darling Oscar briefly loses his mind.  

Now though, we see that the "fugitives" Yang, Jaune, and Ren have been taken into custody. Of course they have. Look, when the preview dropped yesterday I saw a number of takes along the lines of, "How dare the Ace Ops do this. They need to put aside their differences until the attack is over!" but no, they really don't, because it's no longer their responsibility to extend trust towards this group. Especially when doing so, to their mind, has a high chance of making a horrific situation that much worse. What are they going to do if, in the middle of a Salem attack, the kids they decided to trust betray them, attack them, and leave them knocked out somewhere while the world burns? 

...Oh wait, they already did that. 

See, the group broke trust first. Numerous times. The Ace Ops listened to Yang admit that she and Blake had betrayed Ironwood days ago. Then they watched Ruby betray him again by alerting the rest of the team, turning them against him. They swore they wouldn't attack, so Team RWBY attacked them first. They learn that Qrow had a hand in murdering their leader. They encounter the group again and Weiss gleefully asks if they want a second defeat. They watch Ruby tell the entire world to dismiss Ironwood because he’s the one who can’t be trusted. Outside of JYR not immediately attacking them when they arrived to help (something I praised them for), this group has never put their trust in the Ace Ops. So why do they — and we — expect the Ace Ops to do so now? Imagine for just a moment that it was reversed. We find out that someone betrayed the group for no good reason, set themselves against them, continued to do so as everything fell apart, told the rest of the world they’re the enemy, and then a close associate is involved in Ruby's murder. How many people would expect the group to just shrug all that off? Would they put their differences aside and embrace these people because blind trust is (supposedly) the right thing to do? Of course not! Yang would punch their lights out and everyone would cheer, but that's because they're the established heroes. Outside of that role, no one else is allowed to mistrust those who have proven themselves untrustworthy and take precautions against getting betrayed again. To say nothing of how these characters don’t have our meta perspective. Meaning, they live in a world where this trio is not a part of a protagonist group destined to remain a part of the plot because that’s how story conventions work. They’re three random teens who were promoted to huntsmen early. They’re three soldiers out of many who can, at any time, be taken out of the fight. No one on the Ace Ops is working under the belief that they “have” to be a part of this fight. From their in-world perspective, you could toss them in jail for the rest of the battle and that’s that. Outside of their fugitive status they are entirely unimportant. 

So yes, Jaune, Ren, and Yang are in handcuffs. They deserve to be. Don't worry though, they get out very soon. 

Yang makes a snide comment about Winter "Still just following orders" and honestly? I've lost the love I used to have for her as a character. Yang is just an exercise in frustration whenever she speaks now. Thus far she's blamed Ruby for everything that's gone wrong (ignoring her own choices there), did a 180 to yell at Ren for acknowledging how bad things are, worried nonsensically about Blake being disappointed in her even though Ruby is the one she fought with, and is now back to the "You just follow orders" shtick. Yang will label anything she personally doesn't like as evil order following, but conveniently ignores how following Ruby's orders helped get them into this mess, and how the one time she went AWOL made things even worse. These characters don't actually have  beliefs they stand behind, they just say whatever is currently necessary to make themselves look good, even if that contradicts previous statements or actions. 

She also gets mad at Vine for saying that grimm don't take prisoners, ignoring that she only found this out a few hours ago. No one in the group is equipped to navigate the emotional minefield that is this war because they can't even take two seconds to put themselves in another’s shoes. Weiss doesn't bother to consider Whitley's situation. Jaune points at the snow and gets frustrated that Harriet doesn't magically know there's grimm soup flowing nearby. Yang snaps at Vine for stating what she also knew to be a basic fact about grimm up until Oscar's kidnapping. It's all framed as, "How can you be this stupid?" rather than, "Oh yeah, these people haven't had the experiences I have. If I was randomly told this I'd doubt it too. I should try to explain this in a way that will make sense to them and increase my chances of being believed." 

This is the group who decided it was a good idea to tell the whole world about Salem and did it just as badly as I suspected they would. The story has shoved a delicate, information-based war into the hands of punch-happy teenagers and refuses to grapple with how that's a bad thing. 

Anyway, Ironwood comes on the radio to say that the whale is pretty indestructible on the outside, but it might be vulnerable from the inside, so let's get a bomb in there. Seems like a good enough plan as any, especially given that the grimm is currently on the very outskirts of the city, away from the civilians if/when it's blown up. What kind of bomb might this be though? 

Could it, perhaps, end up being a now severely damaged android who is based off of Pinocchio? 

Time will tell. For now, the group is quite obviously upset that Ironwood is planning a big BOOM while Oscar (and Ozpin! Tellingly, no one mentions Ozpin...) is still inside. Here's the thing: Both sides are right here. YJR are right to be worried about their friend, while the Ace Ops — who have no emotional ties to Oscar and, as just established, are questioning whether or not a grimm really kidnapped him — are right that they cannot prioritize a single life over the entirety of Atlas. They just can't! And any hero worth their salt is going to recognize this. You cannot knowingly sacrifice thousands of people (if not more) for one (admittedly awesome) farm boy. It would be a different situation if the people of Atlas volunteered to remain in danger to give Oscar a chance at escape, but that obviously isn't the situation here. If someone told me, "Sorry, Clyde, we can't get you out because the place you're in is super dangerous and attempting to extract you would likely cause the rescue party to die. Also, the longer we don't blow this location up the longer lots of other people die" I'd be like, "Fair enough. Have a nice life!" I mean, obviously anyone would be terrified and devastated by the news, but if you're still thinking straight and have even an ounce of compassion for others, you don't trade all those lives for your own. Spock does not open the door to flood the whole Enterprise with radiation!

And notably, neither does Kirk. Oscar isn't given the chance to sacrifice himself — ignoring his choice to try and undermine Salem's forces rather than escaping — so Jaune, Ren, and Yang are deciding that for him. Which, again, makes sense for them emotionally, but it's still a selfish choice. They're prioritizing their family over everyone else's. If someone ever told me they’d risked a whole city for my sake I’d be touched, but also pissed as hell. Because what were you thinking? 

Which is really my biggest issue with this divide. It would have been nice if the show had done more to make me believe these three are that ride and die for Oscar. Don't get me wrong, I'm thrilled that they are and I'll take this characterization over the apathy we had in the past, but let's be real, it kind of came out of nowhere. The group as a whole pretty much ignored Oscar up until the movie invite and two of these characters — Yang and Jaune — have actively hurt him in the name of getting at Ozpin. Now suddenly they're willing to toss aside their huntsmen duties — protect the people — in order to save him? Nice sentiment, it's just that, as always, we have very little development for it, especially given the level of emotion shown. Particularly when it comes to Ren. The prospect of someone sacrificing Nora? I 100% believe that he draws a hard line and this kick-starts a change in his semblance. Ren is shown to be thinking about how he lost his teammate Pyrrha? Totally believe it! Someone is sacrificing the kid I'm not sure he's ever had a conversation with? That's less persuasive. At the very least, it would have been nice to have the trio grapple with whether they can or should prioritize Oscar over everyone else, rather than taking such a black and white stance of, "Of course taking the time to save this one guy while everyone else dies is worth it. You're evil for thinking otherwise." 

We even get a shot of Winter's hand shaking and clenching like Yang's used to, just to hammer home who the correct party is. 

While they begin this argument we cut to Salem who is literally conducting her grimm in their attack against Atlas. 

Very nice. I love when a villain has 

Emerald watches her, clearly freaked out, and then sneaks off to where Oscar is held. In the hallway she encounters one of the jellyfish grimm, so she casually makes it not see her until it has passed. 

Her semblance works on grimm, but not “real girl” androids? Okay. 

We all realize how crazy powerful Emerald is though, right? The stuff that she could do in a fight is staggering and I'll be forever salty that all she managed in the Penny battle was to create a couple different Cinders. Emerald, Marrow, Salem herself... RWBY has a real problem of having the antagonists conveniently not use the power at their disposal when the heroes need to win. 

So Emerald starts listening in on Ozpin's torture. We learn that Hazel was recruited when he tried to kill Salem numerous times and had to watch her keep reforming. Which, if I remember correctly, is a technique she used back when she and Ozma were playing at Gods. It worked and now Hazel believes that they "share a vision. She's going to create a new world order," one without Kingdoms or Huntsmen Academies. No, says Ozpin, she's going to divide humanity past reform, summon the Gods, and hopefully die when they take out all of Remnant. 

...My god, did we finally get Salem's motivations after seven years? 

Seriously though: seven years. It's way too late, especially when we now have so many questions attached to this supposed goal. If Salem always wanted to divide the world irrevocably, why didn't she attack, oh, say, a thousand years ago? Why has she kept to the sidelines until now? None of this answers why she held off until our simple soul was conveniently ready to fight her. We also have the issue of Salem's knowledge, or lack thereof. So she obviously knows about the Relics and that they'll summon the Gods, but not how to work them? How did that come about? Even Ozpin's motivations are murky now. He repeats Salem's curse word-for-word — though notably, minus the "You must learn the importance of life and death. Only then may you rest" part — yet unless Salem told him this herself when they first reunited — and we know they both hid things from the other — Ozpin could have only gotten this line from the lore episode, something he witnessed along with us just a few weeks/months back. So is he only now realizing that this is what Salem wants the Relics for? Might he be wrong? Or did he somehow figure this out lifetimes ago and we're just not told how? If this is the case, why haven’t Salem’s motivations come up before now? 

This sudden, "Oh yeah, she's always wanted to die" feels pretty tacked on. Like RT had Salem arrive last Volume because that's ~cool~ and then suddenly realized that they have to deal with her motivations now, so they hastily cobbled this together. But, as said at the start, this is entirely expected for RWBY nowadays. A problem to be sure, though one we've been putting up with for a couple of years now. 

During all this, Hazel shouts that this is what Ozpin deserves and the first word out of his mouth is, "Yes." 

But Oscar and the rest of Remnant don't deserve it, so make the right choice for them. How did RT think they were going to make this guy an antagonist? Ozpin has so much self-hatred and yet is still trying SO HARD that he makes Ruby Drinking Tea While The World Burns Rose look laughable. 

Oh yeah, we'll be getting to that scene in just a second, but for now I just want us all to appreciate Ozpin as a character, even if the story won't. 

....

.......

..............

...Okay, moment done lol. Sorry, Oz, there's a lot to cover this episode. 

We cut to a semi-conscious Nora who asks Weiss, "Now what am I good for?" So that’s a double serving of oof. That's when Ruby arrives with fine china steaming with tea. Or coffee. Or hot chocolate. Whatever it is these girls are drinking. What comes next is accompanied by a strange kind of vindication for me. I mean, the fandom dragged me so hard for taking issue with their snuggly smiles during Ruby's message, yet now we literally have the girls sitting back in a mansion as everything goes to shit around them. I know the knee jerk reaction to this will be, "They have to watch over Nora" and “They deserve a break” but really? All three of them need to watch her? And a break during the height of the action? Blake says she hopes everyone else is okay, but who is actually out looking for information about the rest of their team? May. Who's going to do something to get Nora help? Whitley. These characters are so good at telling us they're the heroes while rarely ever displaying those traits. They all (somehow) saw the attack on Atlas and have the ability to get out there and defend people — the job they wanted — yet Ruby looks out the window and asks, "What can we even do?" while taking a long sip of tea. The people of Mantle are (supposedly) freezing to death, yet one of the few with aura, Weiss, sits by a roaring fire going, "Do we just wait for someone to come? If they even come.” I'm sorry, you didn't consider this before you told the whole world about Salem? No one questioned whether asking for potentially non-existent help was worth the risk and what they'd do if it never came? Or even just what they’d do in the meantime? I’m not saying the girls can’t have basic necessities like drinks, or that it can’t be done in style when that’s conveniently available. I’m saying them enjoying the food, warmth, and relative safety of the Schnee household (built on racism) while casually talking about what, if anything, they should do for the people dying outside looks a bit Not Good. "Should we wait for the fire department?" Asks the character as their kitchen burns, sitting beside a number of water buckets that could help slow things down. "If they even come," they sigh, taking another sip of tea. This is ridiculous! The city is currently under attack by the series' Big Bad and half our heroes are just sitting around, watching the evil lightning, wondering if they should try to do anything about it. 

"How did it all get like this?" Ruby asks her cup, ignoring the many steps she took to make things this bad. It continually boggles my mind that Ironwood is out here trying to keep people safe in the subway, coming up with a plan to blow up this whale, sending out an army to kill countless grimm... yet "What can we even do?" Ruby is supposed to be the hero here. You know, the one who has silver eyes and could one-shot huge numbers of Salem's army if she actually went out there and tried to help.  

Ironwood is taking action... and so is May. As said, she's the one out looking for info on their teammates and when she returns says that they should all get back down to Mantle. Why? Because, as mentioned earlier, Atlas at least has an army to help with things. Mantle only has them. 

Yet suddenly, Weiss doesn't want to leave. 

Where did this come from? They succeeded in their preferred plan of telling the world what's going on over Ren and Yang's plan of helping what people they could, and now they're looking for something to do. Why wouldn't they head back to help? (Especially now that the shields are down.) Weiss yells that there are people dying in Atlas too but, as established, Atlas has the army. And where was this concern when they refused to let Atlas leave? After a Volume and a half of pro-Mantle content, this seems to come out of nowhere. Worse, Weiss tries to guilt May by asking if she has family in Atlas, which leads to the reveal that she's trans. Her family rejected their daughter. 

I want to be clear that I'm very happy RT made this canon. For what she is — a side character we know incredibly little about — I really like May and the fact that they were clear in her identity rather than keeping it to twitter deserves recognition. Yet I'm not going to pretend that the reveal didn't leave a bit of a sour taste in my mouth, simply because we have this incredibly privileged cis girl, who knows a great deal about shitty families, hearing how horrible May's was and still trying to tell her she needs to suck it up and help Atlas over Mantle. When May angrily asks whose side she's on, Blake makes a comment about hearing that before, comparing her to Ironwood. May is painted as the misguided one here, but can you imagine if someone told Weiss to go help Jacques over her found family, Team RWBY, regardless of what he's done to her? The fandom would explode, and rightly so. There's something to be said for realism here, showing us Weiss and Blake's inability to see where May is coming from... but it doesn't feel like a commentary on that. It feels like another Penny situation: May is put in her place for being inconsiderate, even though this time it's her choosing to help people who are ALSO in danger over the people who represent family she's broken with. 

I wanted conflict this Volume and I absolutely got it, but damn if it isn’t badly thought out at times. 

Because rather than grappling with these personal motivations, Ruby brushes them aside by yelling, "There are no sides! We want to help everyone." 

Does that extend to Ironwood? Ruby's speeches started falling flat when she betrayed Ozpin, attacked Cordovin, betrayed Ironwood, attacked the Ace Ops... This girl does not want to "help everyone." She wants to help those who agree with her. 

Yet her rock solid optimism generates the question, “So how exactly do we get out of it?” which, as expected, Ruby has no answer to. The story keeps showing us how bad a leader Ruby has become, yet no one is actively responding to that. They kinda disagree about lying to Ironwood, but still go along with it. Yang kinda criticizes her sister, but that's then lost to general worry as they split (on Ruby's end, anyway). They want to know how she'll lead them next and are seemingly fine when Ruby continually says, "I don't know." At this point I'd be like, "Well... you didn't like May's plan of going back to Mantle, but apparently can't come up with a plan yourself... so I'm going to go with her." 

This is the same conflict we had last Volume: Ruby spoke optimistically about saving everyone, yet was unable to come up with a way to do that. Ironwood had a plan that, while horrific, might save a lot of lives. Yet Ruby is presented as the one to back. Now here she is, hours later, still unable to figure out a way to achieve her perfect outcome. Ruby wanting things to be a certain way is not going to make them so and I’m wondering when someone within the group is going to recognize and act on that. 

As Ruby fails to answer this crucial question, we pull back to see Whitley listening in at the door. 

Cutting back to Ozpin and Oscar, Hazel has listened to all this craziness about Gods, immortality, the destruction of Remnant... and literally goes, "Cool story, bro." 

Okay, he says "Nice story" but the emotion is the same. Which I'm really happy about! I mentioned in a recent post that, as far as we know, Hazel hasn't been told anything about the Gods up until now. What Ozpin is telling him sounds like gibberish at worst, incredibly hard to believe craziness at best. Now chuck in Mercury's point that as a tortured prisoner he'll say anything to get free, as well as the fact that this is Ozpin talking to Hazel... and I'm really glad Hazel just ignored his speech (for now at least). It wouldn't make sense otherwise. Granted, this means that the plan literally amounted to, “Let’s info dump a bunch of nonsense-sounding lore on our enemy in the hope that he’ll believe us and betray Salem.” It’s something to try, certainly, and it admittedly is a much better plan than what Oscar is about to cook up. 

So since Hazel won't listen to Ozpin, Oscar wants to try instead. Why did you two switch in the first place? It's really obvious that RT is having the characters do weird things in order to stretch out the plot. 

Either way, our farm boy is in control again. What new strategy will he try? 

"Her name is Jinn." 

This is BEYOND stupid. No, none of this "You have to trust people" nonsense. This is not “people,” this is Hazel. There is a Grand Canyon's width of difference between learning to trust your allies and blindly trusting an active villain who just rejected your "Please defect :(" speech. Even if we remove Hazel from the equation, this is still a monumentally foolish move. I mean, has Oscar considered where he is? This isn't some random warehouse he's been taken to, this is a semi-sentient grimm, a creature creating other creatures out of its ceiling

and whose doors automatically open when people need them to (Mercury). This is a living being created by and connected to Salem herself. How does Oscar know Salem can't hear everything he says? Or that the whale can't relay information to her? That the grimm in the walls won't pop out and run to their master? Or even that a normal person isn't listening in at the door — like Emerald is. If that had been Tyrian instead, that's it. They're done. Game over. 

Someone: "Wow. Salem got the Lamp and managed to ask where the Beacon Relic is. Since the school is still overrun by her army, she snatched it up quick, finished destroying Atlas, and is now on her way to Vacuo. She's nearly completed her plan in days! How did all this happen? 

Oscar: I, um... told her what she wanted to know?

Someone: You what?

Oscar: But not Salem! I just told Hazel! ... and then the information somehow got back to her. 

Someone: "Somehow?" You deliberately told one of Salem's henchmen this crucial piece of information, in a place where there was a good chance you would be overheard by conventional or magical means, and you're surprised that she "somehow" learned it and used that information to doom us all? 

Oscar: ...Yes? 

This is so staggeringly stupid it... well, it could only have been done by a kid. So at least that fits lol. Oscar, I love you, but Ozpin should have been screaming in horror the second those words left your mouth. Generations of precautions undone because a kid wants to believe the best of the guy currently pummeling him. Sweet, but stupid. I’m all for optimistic characters, they just can’t risk the whole world on that optimism. Oscar risking himself on the seemingly doomed plan to turn Hazel is one thing, Oscar risking all of Remnant on the seemingly doomed plan to turn Hazel is another thing entirely. 

Even though you know this is precisely how the story will go. Oscar willingly hands over Jinn's name to Salem's forces, but happily none of the THREE who hear about it will tell her. The story's unwillingness to follow through on consequences doesn't change what a bad move this was. I mean, Oscar himself accused Ironwood of playing into Salem's hands by disagreeing with them about how to not die, yet a few hours later he will willingly give Hazel the one piece of information Salem needs to move closer to world-wide destruction? That's uh... well, that's something. 

They should have just had the poor boy be tortured, spill the beans to make it stop, and start an arc of self-forgiveness. Oscar can be awesome without coming up with world-dooming plans. 

So yeah, Oscar is hoping that Hazel will use the Lamp himself and find out the truth. He wants Hazel to trust him and the man he despises most in the world enough to go against the immortal woman he's terrified of, get the Lamp away from her somehow to use for himself, wasting a once in a generation question to confirm all this, so that Salem will lose a guy with muscle who, to be frank, is absolute insignificant in the grand scheme of her power. Fantastic. 

As said, Emerald overhears all this and immediately runs to Mercury, who is less than convinced by her "Salem wants to destroy the world" talk. Just as he's expressing doubt, Tyrian appears to confirm that this is exactly what she wants to do — and he's loving it. 

“Of course she is! You’re surprised? Salem is destruction incarnate!” 

It's a legit point. Are our villains so dense they never considered that Salem might do something to the world they didn't like? It's like the group not thinking about how Salem is still around if Ozpin has been fighting her for a thousand years. RWBY continually gives the impression that these characters don't think about their situation past what they're doing at any given moment. 

Tyrian maintains his title as best villain though, simply because I understand what he's doing, why he's doing it, and he's so damn good at it. 

Also, can we appreciate Mercury's face here? 

Amazing. This is the kind of humor we should be getting in such a tragedy-laden Volume. 

The two of them, Tyrian and Mercury, head off to Vacuo for the Secret Mission, despite Mercury's newfound hesitation. I quite liked these quiet moments between him and Emerald. It has a very "Do what you've gotta do" vibe while showcasing their care for one another, something we haven't seen in a while. 

Back with the airship group. YJR are still horrified that Ironwood would blow up Oscar (even though he has no idea Oscar is there), begging the Ace Ops to give them "a chance to try to rescue him first.” Ren goes pretty hard on the "no one is replaceable" bit, which is frustrating not being what he’s saying is inaccurate (it’s not), but because that's not the issue here. The writing has Harriet start yelling about Marrow replacing her old teammate and Winter replacing Clover, but the question is not whether you'll just forget a teammate and move on with someone new, but whether you're willing to sacrifice them for the greater good. That's the stance: Should we sacrifice one life to save thousands? Will you, as a protector of the people, put those people before your own found family? Yet what RT has Harriet say is: Oscar is replaceable. Which obviously makes her come across as an ass. Like the random soldier questioning Ironwood — or making Elm about to punch a defenseless Ren in her anger — it exists solely to show how bad these character are... even as they say pretty persuasive things. 

The writing also continues to be confused about whether the Ace Ops are friends or not. Yang certainly didn't think so... up until she asks (rhetorically) whether Marrow would sacrifice himself for Elm, Harriet, and Vine. Since their introduction, the story has loudly insisted that the Ace Ops aren't friends... up until it's revealed ("revealed") that Harriet is actually gutted about Clover. So which is it? Are we supposed to believe that these are cold soldiers who only work together out of duty, or that they're a team who clearly love one another? I'd say that show has shown us the latter, but it doesn't seem to understand what point it's trying to make. Does this look like a soldier who doesn’t care? 

It’s especially weird when Ren again makes the claim that this is why they lost to Team RWBY. Because they're not a team.

...So is this why they did such a fantastic job fighting the geist, demonstrating such perfect teamwork that the group was open-mouthed impressed? Is this why they nearly took down a Maiden together? Is this why Ren, while furious at Yang and Jaune, was still able to work seamlessly with them to try and rescue Oscar? Do we think if Yang was suddenly beside Ruby again that the two would fail spectacularly in a fight because they had a minor disagreement? 

This is now the third time RT has tried to excuse nerfing the Ace Ops with, "They disagree about things and are thus not friends and thus can't fight well together" — despite all evidence to the contrary — and it's getting really old. 

At one point Harriet tells Ren, "I had you pegged as the most level-headed of the bunch, but I guess you’re just as naïve" which, ignoring her then random claim that people are replaceable, is correct. I also pegged Ren as the most level-headed of the bunch considering he was just yelling at Yang for how much damage they've caused, all the mistakes they've made, and that maybe — just maybe — they should have tried harder to work with Ironwood. Yet now here he is, in a position to start that process, and the Ren we got in the snow is simply gone. He's fully Team Yang and Jaune again, facing off against the evil Ace Ops. 

I knew this was going to happen, but it's still disappointing. The story gave Ren a great speech to appease those of us frustrated with the direction the story has taken... and now we’re back to ignoring that. Ren was told off for daring to question how great the group is, apparently thought it over in the snow, and is now of the opinion that yes, they are that great. People are going to die because of us? Who cares about that anymore! We will absolutely, single-handedly rescue Oscar and there's no reason why this might be a questionable choice when an entire city is on the line. Again, emotionally understandable (if we buy into the group suddenly loving Oscar this much), but it rings hollow right after making Ren the one person who was willing to look at the big picture. 

Good news though: Jaune got the braincell this week! He suggests that they go in to try and rescue Oscar/provide intel, but won't stop the Ace Ops from launching the bomb when necessary. 

See, this is heroic. This is what the group should have done during the Mantle conflict: Volunteering to take the personal risk of facing off against Salem while letting Atlas try to escape. Basically, not forcing everyone else to risk their lives for their pipe dream, which is what Ren and Yang want by rejecting the bomb entirely. Jaune recognizes here that they can't prioritize Oscar over an entire city, but also that they may still be able to save him before the bomb is complete and ready to go. So they compromise, with JYR the only ones at risk. 

Good job, Jaune! 

Winter agrees to this plan with a firm, "I outrank you" to Harriet. People are going to love that. 

Oh, but in his anger Ren's semblance suddenly changes. So we're back to the ridiculous. 

Truthfully, I like this direction. Granted, I would have liked some buildup to it, especially since this is the second time this Volume that RWBY has dropped a major semblance change on us, but the idea itself is really cool. Ren can now see emotions! Awesome! And I don't mean that sarcastically. I actually think that’s a neat extension of his original semblance. 

Too bad the story seems to think he's a mind reader. 

Seriously, take a look back at the dialogue. What Ren sees are confetti-like petals floating around a person, their color seeming to determine their emotional state. Red means Harriet is mad, blue is sadness for Marrow, etc. But what Ren ends up saying is a great deal closer to mind reading. Harriet is angry about Clover and is gutted at his loss. Marrow is questioning his place here and wants to leave. These aren't base emotions, they're targeted thoughts and feelings about situations not immediately apparent from the verbal conversation. “In fact, you don’t want to be a part of it at all anymore." How does Ren know that? They just gave him telepathy instead of the cool power with firm limitations that the imagery suggests. 

There are also some, uh... iffy implications in all this. For example, Ren allows Yang privacy by not reading her mind emotional state, but has no qualms about reading every one of the Ace Ops’. So privacy is only for the people you care about, huh? 

We could also say something about RT perpetuating unfortunate racial stereotypes: the two women of color are pure anger, the marginalized man is pure sadness, the Asian coded character is pure calm... and the white woman set to turn against the others gets a mix of all emotions. AKA, human complexity. 

To be clear, I don't think RT is doing this deliberately. Rather, they’re writers who have demonstrated time and time again that they don't have a good handle on depicting the sort of sensitive material that RWBY is infused with, and that extends to the mild, but still unfortunate, implications in scenes like this. Even if we ignore the iffy details — a benefit of the doubt that, at this point, many fans aren’t willing to grant — we're still left with the continuity errors. Visually, we're presented with a woman who is experiencing multiple emotions at once and is, therefore, torn. Yet Ren reads Winter definitively: "I know you [don't want this] either." It's yet another moment that makes me wonder how much communication there is between the writers and the animators, because too often the two seem to be at odds with each other. 

As the group prepares to go into the belly of the beast (literally!) we return to Ruby who is, once again, failing to make me believe she's this super compassionate person. 

“Wait! What about Qrow and Robyn? Maybe if we get them out of wherever they’re held—”

Please tell me I'm not the only one who took issue with this? Ruby doesn't express an ounce of worry for her uncle, not even when she learns he's been arrested, and the one time she brings him up it's in the context of what he can do for them in this fight? Ruby doesn't grapple with whether to rescue her uncle (personal desire), or get the message to the world (her version of the heroic action) and then realize that, now that her duty is done, she can finally turn to the more selfish act of helping her immediate family. Instead, Ruby seems perfectly happy to let Qrow stay in prison up until she's unsure what to do next and thinks that maybe he has the answer. Heaven forbid Ruby think about rescuing him because she loves him.

Sadly, this Ruby is long gone. 

In recent years she's expressed no gratitude for him saving her life, no respect for him as her teacher, demonstrated incredibly little compassion for his own struggles, and outright told him that if he wasn't going to listen to her then he doesn't need to be part of the team. Then he's arrested and she doesn't care until she deems him useful again. Like the fandom wondering where the sisterly bond between Ruby and Yang went, I'm likewise wondering where the bond between Ruby and Qrow went. 

May outright rejects this though, yelling that they still don't get it. “This is not a situation where everyone wins!" 

She tells the trio they have to choose for once: Are you going to help Mantle, or Atlas? 

...which means there's immediately a knock at the door, interrupting the moment where they have to decide. 

See, this is just like Ren. The story keeps giving us moments where characters speak absolute truth, dangling the potential for the group to grow from these realizations... only to pull back before it goes anywhere. Ren is once again aligned with Yang and Jaune in their desire to save Oscar. May's demand is interrupted by the plot. If means nothing to give us these moments unless the story acts on them. 

It's Klein at the door. Whitley called him to help with Nora because I guess he's a doctor now, as well as a butler? Fine. Let’s run with it. Weiss is super pleased to see him and hugs Whitley for the good deed. 

Why so shocked that Whitley would look out for another, Weiss? Could it be because he's had so little reason to be kind when everyone, including you, has treated him horribly? If Klein always had these medical skills — if you’ve grown up with a doctor — why didn’t you talk to your brother and ask if he knew how to contact him? And of course, she apologizes to Klein for her father’s actions, but not to Whitley for her own. Whitley's surprise isn't cute to me. 

Weiss stuck a weapon in his face, insulted him, sent him to his room like a toddler... and now is randomly hugging him because he did something she liked. The context of this scene doesn't paint Weiss in a good light. Like the rest of her friends, she only extends basic respect and kindness towards others when they're assisting her. Whitley was nothing to her until he suddenly proved himself useful. That's not cute sibling love, it's a love that's going to run out the moment Whitley puts a toe out of line, according to Weiss' unspoken list of what behavior keeps him in her good graces. 

I believe that Klein cares for Whitley because he greets him kindly and gives him that shoulder pat on the way up. Whitley didn't need to first prove himself to Klein somehow and Klein didn't start this interaction by shoving a gun in Whitley's face, just in case he wouldn't let him through the door. They feel more like family than this hug does. 

So yeah, Whitley and May have done more good this episode than our entire main cast. How about we just make this story about the side characters instead? 

We then hear a massive boom and the group runs out to find a crater. Penny has landed in front of the manor, which is pretty convenient considering we saw her pass out as she fell. 

She's somehow still in control despite the hack and apologizes to Ruby, then falls unconscious (again). 

And that's where we end! Definitely a cliffhanger, though a rather underwhelming one considering we already knew Penny was in serious trouble. As said at the start, this episode felt rather underwhelming to me, especially as a halfway point before a hiatus, and compared to some of the stuff we've seen previously. It's not bad per-se — especially if we ignore the issues that have been around for an age now, which is most of what this recap deals with — it's just not terribly exciting either. Everything of importance — Salem's attack, Oscar's rescue, Penny's demise, subordinates turning, Nora's condition, etc. — had already been established in previous episodes and very little of it moved forward. Ren's semblance is the only thing the episode gave us that we couldn't have (generically) guessed for ourselves between last Saturday and now. 

So yeah, underwhelmed is the mood of the day, with a hefty dose of salt for everything that continues to be a story-breaking problem in this show. I will say though that, as has become the trend for this Volume, all the establishing shots are gorgeous. RWBY is, at the very least, pretty to look at. 

As a final note, in lieu of the Bingo board (since, again, not a whole happens plot-wise) I want to point out something mentioned by a friend: how absolutely bonkers our timeline is now. We began the second day last episode with the sun rising (recall that Jaune had tried to sleep that night at the outpost. So it’s definitely sunrise as opposed to sunset).

And we re-confirm that it’s sunrise at the start of this episode.

Yet throughout the episode many of our shots take place at night (note the stars behind the trio).

These moments with Ruby can't take place in the past because they're talking about the attack, an attack that only happened after Jaune's group met up with the Ace Ops and the geyser attacked — during early morning. I doubt I'm supposed to believe that it has been another full day of Salem starting an attack, a full day for the group to fly to the whale, a full day for Penny to fall, a full day which would put us at the end of the Volume’s timeline at only the halfway point... so I think RT is just going for the aesthetic of night shots without thinking about what that does to the continuity. It's a mess. 

Not the highest praise to end on, but I’m working with what I’ve got lol. I feel as naïve as Oscar when I say that maybe Part II will be better. 

I will, of course, see you all in six weeks. Until then, I'll do my best to catch up on asks. Another doomed endeavor, but one can try!

A very Happy Holidays to all of you who celebrate and, as always, thanks so much for reading! 💜

[Ko-Fi]

[wwall-archive]

All At Once, This Is Enough - Ethan W..inters x Me

A/N: ~In light of the announcement I just made~! Surprise! I've been working on this. For several days. My apologies if I've seemed quiet, all my energy was going towards this! This is kind of long, but it's... actually kind of important to me, so I forgave myself on that front, haha. This follows the timeline of my RE AU, which I intend to continue writing out more in depth, in which the events of the 7th game occur and then I ignore the events of 8 even though I love it as a game because I just can't stop thinking about an average life with this man 😭 I do still intend to set this up for a bit of angst, because that just feels like how this needs to go, but it will be resolved shortly! Anyways, my over-explaining aside, I hope you enjoy the beginning of our story. More to come soon ❤️

Warnings: Vague references to alcohol. Allusions to a notable age gap. Mention of divorce. Me being intensely socially awkward.

Word Count: 1738

Tag List: (Thanks so much to everyone who wanted to be added, and as per usual, if anyone wants to be added or removed, no problem, just let me know <3) @sacredempressnatlyia @crowandking @solomates @ship-trek @nekociapek @blueberryships @ariesselfships @lysandthunder @queenvonhresvelg

~~~

As I stepped out of my car and made my way into this building, I took a moment to acknowledge to myself that I was not looking forward to the evening in front of me. Simply to brace myself, if nothing else. Sure, I didn't have anything against fancy events - I'd always actually been rather fond of getting dressed up - but the idea of being trapped in a room full of mostly strangers filled me with a level of unease only an introvert of my level could feel. I shuddered in horror at the thought of the polite small talk that awaited me.

Alas, some events were simply too large to miss, especially when they required the booking of a large venue, and so I found myself taking small, hesitant steps through the large, decorated archway that led to this event hall. I was almost certainly early, as I always was, and it was already too crowded for my liking, filled to the brim with people mingling, and a pianist on stage getting ready to play for a formal dance floor that would soon be filled as well. At least the open bar looked inviting, so I made my way in that direction, hoping it would provide me some small amount of protection from anybody who would be determined to say hello.

I reaffirmed to myself that all I needed to be here for was a quick appearance. Some brief greetings to those who extended my invitation to me, once I could find them, and then I could bolt faster than a startled rabbit. It brought me a modicum of strength, to know I wouldn't be here for too long.

As I made my way through the room, I had to admit that it was dazzlingly decorated, and I felt quite lovely all dressed up, like I adequately fit in with the impressive scenery. If there was going to be any upside to the night, I supposed it would have to be that.

It was a vaguely familiar voice calling out my name that caught my ear, almost certainly someone I had met through work. As I begrudgingly turned to meet them, I did find myself slightly recalling their face. I smiled as they approached and we shared greetings, and it was pleasant enough, even as they rushed into their next words like they knew I would exit the conversation as soon as I could in a panic and were desperate to say their piece, “Wallace, I really wanted you to meet a colleague of mine, he's a systems engineer my organization works with, I thought I could recommend him for… Oh, where did he- Ethan! Wallace, meet Ethan-”

In the following moment that I remained coherent, I was able to process two things. The first, being the features of the man before me, all short dark blond hair and light brown eyes, and slightly boyish features on a face that somehow still managed to convey his status as middle-aged, and a smile soft enough to take my breath away. Two, as I gazed upon the features striking me so, and stuck my hand out to meet his for a handshake, I became quite sure, more than I had ever been sure of most things in my life, that I was about to be an absolute goner for this man.

It took me a moment to come back to my own body, and so once I did I rushed to say, “It's a pleasure to meet you, Mr…?”

“Oh, just Ethan, please.”

“Of course. Ethan. My name is Wallace.”

“Then the pleasure is all mine, Wallace.”

The familiar voice from earlier cut in again, and I could vaguely make out something being said about a previous project that had been worked on, but I couldn't quite bring myself to tear my gaze away from the man in front of me. After a moment, to my shock, it occured to me that he didn't seem to have any intention of looking away either, nor did he seem particularly bothered by that fact.

After that occured to me and made my head spin from the sheer realization that he was content to hold my gaze, I was struck by mortification as I realized that I still hadn't dropped his hand from our handshake, and I rushed to let go. To my relief, he seemed shocked by the revelation of the discrepancy in decorum as well. In the corner of my perception, I heard a small laugh, and something like the words “I'll let you two talk!” Suddenly, fear struck me again, but this time over the thought that I would have nothing interesting to say, now that the official introduction was over, and that Ethan would depart as well.

But that didn't happen, and he smiled at me again, and in a meek tone of voice he began, “I'm sorry, I was sure it looked like you were heading somewhere before we stopped you. If it was a bother I could go-”

“No! No, I had just gotten here. Just making my way over to the bar.” I cringed at myself internally upon realizing I had confessed to heading straight for the bar as soon as I entered the room, but once again it didn't seem to bother him. His deep chuckle made my knees weak.

“Great. Don't suppose you'd want to dance with me instead?” The pianist had started to play a light tune a moment ago, and a few people had come together on the floor. I quickly thought back to the single formal dancing class I had ever taken, knowing I very well could not dance.

“I'd love to.” His smile made my mind go blank for a moment again. By the time I had come back from autopilot, we were on the floor, and he was leading me in a light, easy dance.

“How does a systems engineer learn to ballroom dance?”

He gave a small shrug, “A class or two. I needed some for… an event once.”

I laughed lightly, “Well you clearly took them more recently than me, the one and only dancing class I ever took was a one day requirement in high school. I'd be done for without you right now, I'm sure.”

“Then I'll be happy to guide you with what knowledge I have.”

Our conversation lagged into silence for a moment, and I internally kicked myself for letting it. What was I supposed to say in a situation like this?

I defaulted to the one conversation trick I had, “So, Ethan, tell me about yourself.”

He shrugged again, but he was still smiling, “Well, you know my occupation. Um, I'm 37.” I noticed him watching for my reaction on that one, but when I simply nodded, he continued hesitantly, “I'm from California.” He paused again, this time for longer, but I could tell he was simply working his way up to his next point. “Divorced, relatively recently. I'm a father, I have a little girl, Rose.” He stopped again, watching for my reaction once more. I hoped I was managing to keep my face as neutral as I felt it was.

“Wow. You're honest.”

He cringed, “Too much?”

“Much appreciated, actually.” I swallowed heavily, hoping I wasn't about to overstep or show my hand too early, and lowered my voice just a little, “Lets me know I'm not reading this completely wrong.”

He looked down at our feet, but I could have sworn I saw him break into a grin before he did.

He cleared his throat, looking up at me again, “So? What about you?”

And so I gave him the run-down on me. Occupation, location, age - I saw his eyebrows raise just the slightest at that one, but got a similar non-reaction to the one I gave otherwise - and matched most of what he told me, minus the personal bombshell. I supposed there were some things we each had yet to uncover about each other, and I was saving mine for later.

Upon the end of my self-pitch, he nodded, “Interesting.”

“Oh, is that all I get?” I did my best to make my tone playful, so he would know I was joking, but I had a feeling he would have understood me anyway even if I hadn't put in the extra effort. Our entire conversation, I had held the feeling that he was rather good at reading me already.

“You want more of a reaction, give me more to react to.” His tone was equally playful. I'm quite sure I would have caught the joke even if it hadn't been as well.

“Sir, this is still our first meeting, if you'll recall. We don't need to go dropping all our bombshells at once, do we? And besides, I wouldn't consider a rented event hall the best place for sharing all our deepest secrets, would you?”

He once again let out that chuckle that made me swear you could see the hearts forming in my eyes, and he darted his gaze around the room before meeting mine again, drawing his tongue across his lips nervously, and I could hear the uncertainty in his voice, “Then… do you want to get out of here? Go find something else to do that's better suited for getting to know each other better? Or sharing all our deepest secrets, as you put it.”

It briefly occurred to me that maybe this was a bad idea. I deeply understood the uncertainty he displayed. I knew damn well I probably wasn't in the best place to pursue this, and I had the deep, unshakable feeling that if I left this place with this man, I would be in far too deep to let go easily. I was drawn to him, even if it wasn't the most conventional, or even if it didn't seem like emotionally the most sure-fire, secure decision. Something about him signaled to me that he was probably in a very similar boat. I had a feeling we each had some emotional baggage to unpack. And besides, I still hadn't even made a round to say hello to the hosts yet, either. That was all I had even come here to do. I was supposed to have gotten here, said hello, been awkward, and left. It was supposed to have been a bad, short, night.

“Yeah, absolutely. Let's get out of here.”

[yandere-wishes]

Hi! Have you played the game Disney Princess: Enchanted Journey ? The game follows an amnesiac young girl (the protagonist who is controlled by the player) that is brought to a dilapidated castle called Gentlehaven. The character that the player controls may have the appearance customized by the player and that protagonist has no official name. Do you think Mc/Yuu (Twisted Wonderland) could be that character? Or her children? Your writing is wonderful, you are very creative and talented.

So quick disclaimer I've never actually played the game but while I was reading through the game summary I came up with this theory 

-- I doubt that Yuu/MC from TW is the child of the princess, instead, I'd be more certain that Yuu is the princess (I know Yuu is gender-neutral but I'm factoring that out for now) In a way it would make sense, assume that the "princess" got transported into the "Disney" world when they were rather young (between 8-10) she met the five princesses went on adventures with all of them than got transported back home. Flash forward a few years where the "princess" is now in her teenage years, she (yet again) gets transported to the "Disney" world only this time the place looks completely different. That's because, while only 6 to 7 short years have passed for her, literal centuries have passed in the "Disney" world. Now the "princess" currently going by Yuu has somehow convinced herself that the magical world she went to as a child was all part of her imagination, it wasn't real, it couldn't be real and even if it was, there is no way in hell that this messed up world is the happy go lucky place she visited. Since Yuu was so young, she also wouldn't really remember the princess or their stories....that is until she meets the twisted wonderland boys and their similar actions spark subconscious memories. That would explain how Yuu has such vivid dreams of the Disney characters without having ever seen the moives.--

....Then I read the ending where the "princess" was actually from the Disney world herself and was the long lost princess of Gentlehaven. SO as you can tell the theory quickly disbanded....but that got me thinking. "What if there is a person from a parallel world (where Disney doesn't exist) who has the ability to jump to different dimensions, more specifically going from their world to the Japanese Disney universe."

Quick side note: I'm going to say (and use) the Japanese Disney universe because games and franchises such as Kingdom Hearts, Disney tsum tsum, and twisted wonderland don't exist in the Disney canon of America (at least I don't think so). BUT I wouldn't be surprised if they all exist in the complete canon of the Japanese version of Disney (meaning that in twisted wonderland the idea of key blades, heartless and tiny four-legged characters similar to classic characters exists. Also excluding Marvel and Star wars from this theory)

Now in kingdom hearts union cross, we play as a character who suddenly wakes up in Daybreak Town with no idea who they are or how they got here. That's when they meet a cat named Chirithy (who reminds me of Grim) who tells them that they have the power to wield a key like sword called a Key blade and that they have to rid the world of the "darkness". While they embark on their journey to defeat the darkness and slay the heartless they come across multiple Disney characters and their respective worlds (that are kinda just like neighboring countries considering how easily they go from to the other) which include Snow-white, Aladdin, Hercules, Cinderella, Alice in Wonderland, Tangled and Sleeping beauty. Now at night when the player falls asleep, they start having rather vivid dreams of either current events or passed events most of which consists of (I'm pretty sure) seven hooded figures. 

In a way, the player from Kingdom hearts and Yuu kind have a similar power set. The ability to have dreams that can almost predict the future or see into the past, some times both. So this made me draw a wired connection "what if they are similar because they are the same person!" I think that in the universe in which most Japanese Disney games are set; there are two worlds, one world that's identical to ours but without any sort of Disney franchise existing and another where Disney is that world. Now in the first world, there is a child who somehow develops a sort of power to be able to transport from their world to the other world. Granted they can't control this power, it seems to act on its own, transporting them to the other world when the other world is in dire need of help. Now I believe that once when the player was very little somewhere between the age of 5-8 they get transported to the neighboring world and met the Disney princess/princes/sidekicks/Villians, generally speaking, they become good friends with the "good guys" but when there is no immediate threat they get sent back home. Every time that they return to their world they lose a big chunk their memory of the "Disney World". They think it was all a make-believe dream or a figment of their imagination. Despite everything they still have distinctive recollections of the occasions that occurred but only in their sub-conscience.

Now sometime in the future, "Yuu" gets transported to the "Disney World" again only this time years have passed and an evil known as the "darkness" is plaguing the world. The Disney characters (or most of them) seem to remember Yuu. I say this because in the game (Union cross) characters like Alice, Cinderella, Hades, and Hercules says vague things that make it seem like they knew the character or at least had met them prior to the game. Other characters such as Snow while, Aladdin, and Rapunzel all seem to automatically trust the player despite claiming to have "just met them". Now, this could just be fan service or a way to move the plot along quicker. But I think it was deliberately placed so that we as the player get the feeling that not only have we met these characters before, but they too, vaguely remember us for some reason or another. Now the same thing repeats, "Yuu" helps subdue the current threat, says a heartwarming goodbye, gets conveyed back home, ends up thinking it was a crazy dream, and then continues to have random dreams about their time as a keyblade wielder.

All this finally brings us to the "current" timeline. Where for "Yuu" only a few years have passed until they are 16-17 but hundreds of years have gone by for the "Disney World" this time Yuu's power could have activated when they were close to a mirror making them think that it was the mirror that transported them rather than their own power (which they have also forgotten) in twisted wonderland (the current name of the Disney world) overblots have become a hazard and like always Yuu is the only one who can knock sense into the characters and restore order. This time every little thing the boys do triggers Yuu's memory about what the older villains and heroes did, giving them a headstart as they can kind of predict exactly what the boys will do before they do them. Maybe their stay will be longer because after the overbolt threat is dealt with, there may be a threat from royal sword academy.

Never the less eventually Yuu would once again return home, once more forgetting most of what happened in NRC, and only coming back years later after every one of their new friends are dead or don't remember them.

Honestly, this is kinda sad, imagine spending so much time in another world, a better world, where magic and adventure exist. You make amazing friends, friends that you can never quite remember but who haunt your every dream. Every time you're resent to this mystical world so much time has passed that whoever you once knew is dead, doesn't remember you or is in some sort of life or death situation. I'm actually starting to feel very bad for Yuu, poor kid.

Okay a part of me really wants to make a blog dedicated to making theories about Twisted wonderland (and maybe some other games like KH, hypnosis mic, Obey me and argonavis)

Anyone else wants to share their two cents on this matter? Or their own theories?

[millennialfangirl]

Take My Hand (take my whole life too) - a Daisy/Daniel post S7 oneshot

Fandom: Agents of Shield

Pairing: Daisy x Daniel

Rating: G

Word Count: 3033

Author’s Note: Here’s a little post season 7 oneshot. Just some ideas I had for how the series could end for our lovely ship. I’m sure the next episode it will get ‘Jossed’. 

Take my hand (Take my whole life too)

Daisy found herself alone, sipping on the last of her champagne. Sounds of laughter fill the backyard where the small reception is taking place. She’s filled with happiness for May and Coulson, but as she stares across the patio, eyes lingering on Sousa as he plays with little Diana Fitz-Simmons, she can’t help but feel a deep well of sadness. May and Coulson have known each other for two decades, and they’ve just now settled down and committed to a life with one another. It makes her hurt for all the missteps and loneliness that her pseudo-parents took to get here. 

 It makes her hurt for herself, and the man she’s just starting to realize means more to her than she’s comfortable with. 

 The sliding of a chair brings her out of her melancholic reverie, and a warm hand settles on her shoulder. Without thinking, she leans her cheek on it as she continues to stare out across the party.

 “Do you want to talk about it?” Coulson prods. 

 Taking in a deep breath, Daisy exhales her sigh. She doesn’t want to dampen his night, but she knows he won’t settle until she’s given him something. 

 “It took so long for you to get your happy ending.” 

 That’s all she says, and she thinks it’s enough to convey all the things she’s feeling. 

 Coulson follows her gaze, his thumb rubbing soothing circles on her shoulder. He has easily put two and two together over the past few months as he’s watched Daisy stumble and dance herself around Agent Sousa. 

 “You’re wondering if it’s worth it?”

 She nods, a hand reaching up for his to pull it down with hers as she turns her body to face him. He’s so happy right now, which should be answer enough to her concerns. The burdened weight of years of sacrifice have lifted from his face and posture, replaced with soft laugh lines and warm eyes. A mist settles over her eyes when she remembers that she had lost him once upon a time before traveling to the past, and fixing that one wrong that cut deeper than all the others. He was flesh and bone once again, and he was happily married with a gold band on his finger. He’ll be able to grow old with May instead of having to watch her die one day. 

 “Happiness seems tenuous at best. Our life takes it away so often, why risk it after so many years of not getting to this place?”

 “I get it, I do,” he admits. He takes a swig from his bottled beer and sets it back on the table. His fingers fiddle with the bottle wrapper as he gathers his thoughts. 

 “We took a long time, and yeah, sometimes I wished we hadn’t. I wish we’d figured things out sooner, but I have to believe that it gave us the foundation we need to make it last, that otherwise we would have started something we couldn��t finish.”

 “You know more than anyone what I’ve lost. I know what you’ve lost. I don’t know if I can survive losing someone else.”

 The smallest tear squeezes out as she admits her fears. Coulson wipes it away immediately, and then tucks a few stray hairs behind her ear. 

 “You can survive anything. You’ve always been capable of so much more than you know. It’s the very reason you deserve your own happiness. I know you’ll get it one day, because there’s no one that deserves it more than you...except maybe a displaced WWII veteran,” he pauses with a soft chuckle as he glances back at the dark-haired man shuffling a toddler around on his feet.

 Mirth fills his eyes as he returns his gaze to Daisy, her face burning red while she pointedly stares at the ground. 

 “And when you do, you’ll know. The bones will be good, and the time will be right. Every couple is different. Your happy ending might be a lot closer than you think.”

 Daisy scoffs.

 “Nice. Subtle.” 

 Coulson gives her that dad look. 

 “People arrive, so we celebrate, and people leave us, so we grieve. We do what we can with the time in between,” he pauses and gives her a knowing look. “For a sentient chronicom, Enoch understood the crux of humanity. Life can’t be just the things we lose.”

 “I’ll try to keep an open mind,” she begrudgingly acquiesces. 

 He looks mollified as he leans back in his chair, crossing his arms. She’s reminded of how lucky she is to have him back in her life, to have someone who cares enough about her wellbeing to have this conversation. As they sip their drinks under the night sky, she thinks back on their first night of freedom at the rundown motel after Hydra was exposed. Even then, with half of a chocolate bar, he was trying to take care of her. Not for the first time, she wonders what her life would have been like, and what choices she would have made if she had had a father figure like Coulson in her life all along. Would she have chosen people like Myles and Ward?

 She does know that Daniel’s unlike anyone she’s met before, and she doesn’t just think it’s because he’s a man out of time. There’s a goodness and steadfastness that is woven through him like the suits he still insists on wearing. Somewhere in there is a joke about how girls fall in love with men like their fathers. There are a lot of differences between Daniel and Coulson. There are also a few similarities. Apparently Daniel is the original Agent Suit, and apparently he also likes to take care of her. After going through countless time loops that proved over and over the type of man Sousa is, she’s doing her best to accept the help, and maybe let down her defenses a little bit. But accepting help is one thing, and jumping heart first into a relationship is another. They’ve barely been able to catch their breath since defeating the chronicoms, much less have any time to see if their feelings were more than surface level. 

 A small wrapped box is placed in front of her on the table, bringing her out of her conflicting thoughts.

 “I got something for the new Director. Something every Director of a super top-secret spy organization should have,” he finishes with a grin, looking so much like the adorable nerd he is. 

 “Um...this is your wedding day. I’m pretty sure I’m supposed to be the one giving you a gift.” 

 Coulson merely shrugs. Daisy starts pulling the string on the wrapping paper.

 “It’s also the first day of my life as a civilian.”

 She can’t help but laugh as the dark blue paper falls revealing a simple wooden box.

 “I don’t think you’ll ever be just a civilian.”

 Her wide grin drops from her face when she sees the familiar keys nestled in the now opened box. She looks up at Coulson with wide eyes, words of refusal already in her mouth.

 “No, I--” but he doesn’t let her finish. 

 “Yes. It’s time to pass the torch. She deserves to keep going on adventures, not sit in my garage,” he insists, closing his hand over hers, folding the keys into her palm. 

 ****

 She watches as Coulson steps in, lifting Diana into his arms, swinging her around in a half waltz. Daniel laughs with his hands on his hips in mock anger. Daisy looks away before she gets caught staring, and instead looks to her phone for a distraction. She flips through her photo album, gazing at candids from the small ceremony. Eventually she lands on the infamous picture of Daniel in an alley from literal decades ago. 

 “Looks like I could use a new dance partner.”

 In an instant her phone is fumbling out of her hands, falling hard on the patio underfoot. Her face burns red with embarrassment as her brain tries to catch up to what he said. She blindly reaches for the phone while looking up at him.

 “Dance partner?”

 And she wants to slap herself in the face for her lack of finesse.

 Daniel leans down a bit, holding his hand out for her to take.

 “Let me try that again. May I have this dance?”

 And Daisy doesn’t think she’s ever felt a rush of butterflies quite like that before. No one has ever asked her to dance with them. There weren’t many school dances she actually went to, and all the boys she’s been with before...well dancing wasn’t their style, at least not the kind with soft music and romantic lighting. She’d had a lot of experience with thumping bass, dark rooms, and wandering hands. 

 She likes to pride herself on the growth she’s made, the woman she’s become. She wears her independence like a badge of honor, but in that moment staring at Sousa’s hand, she feels young and completely smitten. 

 Unprepared. Unprepared is what she is, but it can’t be that different from sparring, right? She’s nothing if not ready for a challenge.

 Sousa takes the hand she places in his, and a large grin spreads across his face. It takes her breath away. 

 “I don’t exactly know how to do this,” she admits, embarrassed. 

 “Do what? Dance? No way.”

 Daisy nervously places her hand on his shoulder like she’d seen in the movies, while their fingers spread and squeeze into a firm hold with each other. He feels solid under her touch.

 “True story.”

 “Well, we’ll just have to fix that. Just follow my feet. When I step back with one foot, follow it with your opposite. When I step to the side, just go with me. When I step forward, you step back.”

 “So it is like fighting,” she mumbles mostly to herself. 

 “Hmm?”

 “Nothing.”

 And it’s not so bad after the first couple of awkward shuffles. Eventually they find a rhythm, and Daisy’s surprised to find she’s enjoying the moment. She stops staring at their feet long enough to relax and watch the people around them, her people. She’s lost in thought while staring at Mack and Yo-Yo swaying to the music, arms wrapped tightly together.

 Sousa clears his throat. “It was a beautiful wedding.” 

 “Long overdue, and exactly what they deserve.”

 “You really love them.”

 “More than anything. They’re my family.”

 “You’re lucky to have them. And they’re lucky to have you.”

 “I’m so sorry, Sousa. You must feel so alone,” she responds guiltily.

 “I don’t feel so alone. Not right now. It’s hard to feel alone when I’m dancing with a real-life superhero.”

 “If I’m a superhero, it’s only because of people like you.”

 “People like me?”

 “People who save people like me, who follow us into the dark, and pull us back out. People who roll with the punches and have good hearts. Solid people.”

 “If I didn’t know any better Director Johnson, I’d say you were still trying to sweet-talk me into the Co-Director position.” 

 “That works too.”

 Sousa looks at her skeptically before Daisy continues.

 “So, what do you say? Ready to accept the position?” 

 With that, he is distracted. He chews on his lip in thought.

 “You know I want nothing more than to help you, help SHIELD...It’s just hard for me to imagine being that useful in the 21st century. I’m so behind on modern technology and culture. I worry that I’ll be more of a burden.”

 Daisy’s hackles raise at his blatant disregard for his worth. 

 “You think you’d be a burden? You’re a brilliant detective and strategist. You’re the guy that figured out Hydra’s involvement in SHIELD before anyone else, and was willing to give his life to stop them. You’re the guy that saved me from Nathaniel Malick. You’re the guy who took every time loop in stride and helped me break that time loop. You’re the guy that I…”

 Daisy stops herself mid-sentence, almost saying something that she can’t take back. Something she’s too afraid to voice. Sousa looks down at her, hanging on her every word as she pauses. She shakes her head as if to clear it of her runaway thoughts. She decides to go with a much more palatable truth.

 “You’re the guy I trust to have my back,” she finishes with a gulp. 

 For a moment she thinks she’s gone too far. He’s staring at her intently like he’s trying to crack a code or needle an interrogation suspect. After what feels like an eternity, he finally speaks up. 

 “Well, Director Johnson, how can I say no to that vote of confidence.”

 She releases a nervous laugh. “You can’t. That’s the point,” she says with a satisfied smile.  

 “No, I suppose not,” he says with a twinkle in his eye that she has become increasingly fond of. 

 They settle into a comfortable silence as a new song comes on. Neither one of them make to leave the makeshift dance floor, so they drift into the opening tunes of Elvis Presley’s “Can’t Help Falling In Love.” 

 It’s soft and whimsical, and Daisy can’t help but let her mind wander to the man in front of her. He makes her feel things she doesn’t remember feeling before, not even with Lincoln. She’s hyper aware of how perfectly their hands fit together, and the gentle touch of his fingers on her waist. She has to physically stop herself from leaning forward and resting her head on his shoulder, to seek out the comfort she remembers from the barn. She wonders if he would follow her lips willingly just like he had in the time loop.

 She thinks he might always look like he stepped out of a classic, black and white, Hollywood film. 

 As if he can read her thoughts, he pulls her a little closer, their arms wrapping around each other a bit more than what’s expected of two colleagues or platonic friends, but not quite as intimate as Mack and Yo-yo. She can’t stop the next words out of her mouth, because they’re simply true and pure. 

 “This is nice.”

 Because it is. It’s so nice, and she’s still struggling to accept that she deserves to feel something this good. 

 With a knowing smile, he hums in agreement before gently turning her out, guiding her into a slow spin. When she steps back into his arms, neither one hesitates in drawing in a bit closer. The world is spinning around them, but he’s her only focal point. His kind eyes with slight crinkles, the touch of gray around his temples, the mole just below his Adam’s apple...the softness of his lips.

 “You look beautiful tonight.” 

 And if that doesn’t take her breath away. When was the last time someone called her beautiful? She’s heard plenty of other adjectives: strong, stubborn, leader...destroyer. She wants to be all those things, and beautiful too. 

 “Thank you,” she responds quietly, not quite capable of meeting his eyes.

 Then he says her name softly, prompting her to look up. The way he says, “Daisy,” instead of Agent Johnson, the way he’s asking for the answer to a question he doesn’t even know...she’s sure she knows the question.

 It probably sounds a lot like, “Why does this feel so right? Why do your arms feel like home? Would it be alright if I kissed you?”

 And her answer would be, “Because your favorite people are people like me. Because you’ve held me close before. Please, kiss me again.”

 She never told him about the time loops. She never wanted to take away his free will. But right now she’s ready to tell him everything. She’s ready for a kiss that can never be erased. 

 An alarm starts blaring from her wristwatch, and the two of them jump apart. She can see several other members of their team all stop what they’re doing and look to their phones and smartwatches. 

 Daisy knows the night is over and duty calls. She’s surprised the whole wedding wasn’t interrupted, but she can’t help but feel angry nonetheless. 

 “Want to catch a ride with me?” she asks the suddenly sullen looking man out of time.

 His face lights up with a smile, and he gestures to her to walk in front of him. 

 “After you, Director.”

 She can feel his eyes on her as they make their way to the tables where she picks up the keys to Lola along with her belongings. It doesn’t feel like he’s leering. It feels protective and comforting, just like someone who’s got her back. 

 Coulson hugs her tightly, and May wishes them luck as they head out to chase down their next mission. It should feel sad, leaving them behind, but it somehow feels right. They’re her family. They’ll always be there for her, but now it’s time for her to lead, and she has one hell of a right hand to help her out.

 As they make their way to the parked car, red and shiny in the moonlight, Sousa can’t help but ask, “What’s an 0-8-4?” 

 He must have taken a moment to read the alert sent to his phone.

 “It’s an object of unknown origin. Probably alien. Think you can handle it?” she asks, and she can’t help but feel a thrill of excitement for the unknown.

 “I’ve traveled 70 years into the future, I don’t think much will surprise me now.”

 At that, she laughs out loud as she slides into the car.

 “You might be right. Alright, last chance. Sure you want in?”

 “Positive. I’m where I need to be.”

 The way he looks into her eyes when he says it lets her know he means so much more than just the next mission. 

 “That’s good to hear. Now buckle up, I just might surprise you now.”

 “I’m counting on it,” he says with an excited grin.

  Daisy can feel his stare, even as they rise above the trees, Lola taking flight. Without looking at him, she takes his hand in her own. 

 If her cheeks turn red and her heart beats harder, well at least Coulson’s not there to notice it.

[rosenmarille]

First of all: that One Day bit is quality content. Second of all I read "3.5 for Holly" and am Highly Interested

HI yes! i will explain, however i first have to correct myself. its actually a part 2.5, not 3.5. like i mentioned in the other post, the part is called “heart unbound”, this is about 25 years after battle tendency, when holly is in her early 20s!!

the rest of this im gonna put under the cut

so the setting. joseph (43), suzie, and holly (21) live in new york, smokey is in georgia, lisa lisa (75) is Somewhere in the states, erina and speedwagon have passed away (sad). its 1963! the speedwagon foundation has continued expanding, with joseph and lisa lisa closely involved after speedwagons death. they’ve mostly moved their attention into new territory, but still have all their old research kept. stands aren't a thing yeeet, but its been long enough that the pillarmen have faded into unpleasant memory.

until one night the power at the swf hq goes out for just a moment too long, and santana manages to escape.

joseph and lisa lisa are contacted asap, and they decide to travel down to texas and find him (preferably take him out for good this time). holly, who has grown up hearing about jojo’s wild escapades, really wants to come along. she knows some hamon! she can defend herself! come on!! (yes i said it, holly learned hamon, do you think having lisa lisa for a grandmother would result in anything less?) anyway, joseph and lisa lisa Really don't want her to come since it could be really dangerous and they'd rather not put her in harm’s way.

so holly (rich, unsupervised) books a plane and goes after them.

we skip to texas!! joseph and lisa lisa investigate at hq and the surrounding area and find practically no trace of santana or where he might have gone. when holly arrives, she decides that since she can't look into hq without getting caught, she’ll ask around with locals, and manages to hear rumours about a new sort of cryptid (only appears at night, weird anatomy etc), both cattle and people have been disappearing, but on a very small scale. she looks into similar stories and realizes that santana must be moving south, though what he's planning, she doesn't know. but she will follow!! (and leave breadcrumbs for her family to pick up on this pattern too, she guesses. not so helpless now, huh?)

so this goes for a while, taking her down into mexico, until she is pretty sure that she can triangulate the missing people reports accurately enough to actually Find him. holly isnt stupid, she doesnt think she can win in a battle against a pillarman. what she’s hoping to do is prove herself to joseph and lisa lisa by prepping and helping out enough for them to then take care of the problem. she's an adult now and she doesnt appreciate being treated like a child. (you may say this contradicts how she behaved towards joseph in part 3, but to that i counter: she's in her 40s in that one, and her being an adult is established enough that she knows she can act a lil silli without that being put in question)

but hey!! she does find him!! she decides to stalk him for a bit, see what he does. so she happens to be there when santana attacks a young woman (midnight snack), who pulls a KNIFE instead of running away, so Holly rushes in and deflects an attack with a quick hamon swipe. santana has learned from his previous hamon encounter and instead of sticking around, he decides it isn't worth it and absconds instead (smart). (at this point you might notice this is the first fight of the part. yeah it be like that in this one. call it battle untendency) 

holly and the woman (who later introduces herself as Maria (no last name yet; but named after Maria Maria by Santana (lol)) also get out of dodge and hide out in an alley, where maria decides that she needs to know what the fuck that Thing was, yesterday. magic?? sparkling?? hello??? and hollys like uhh hah yes so. that's an ancient semi immortal vampire creature? and this is sunlight breathing magic, which he's allergic to. yea. and maria is like ................yeah okay i buy it. teach me sunlight breathing magic, i wanna come.

maria side paragraph! she's our oc and we love her. remember that awful scene from the santana arc with all those prisoners and the one kid who doesn't get sacrificed? that's her older brother. he was “let go” but “let go” basically did just mean “free to wander the desert and find civilisation maybe”, so when he did eventually find his way back home, he'd been severely traumatized, plus on death's door. other prisoners had been turned into vampires to test on the pillarman discovery, so the word “vampire” is something he'd have heard and conveyed to his family, who didn’t. really believe him. he also hasn't really recovered from that experience :( then the war happened and maria's dad served in it, and afterwards decided that his other child needed to know how to defend herself, and maria learned how to handle a knife, as well as how to physically fight. their family managed to avoid post war financial problems for the most part, and maria was able to finish her studies! she's a pilot :)  she is, however, harbouring very deep anger and resentment for what happened to her brother, and has not really had a face to direct that anger towards, so it's been on a relatively low burner for the most part, but now there’s talk of vampires and a person she can blame for her family’s trauma.

they exchange notes and she realizes that yeahh, that is pretty much exactly what her brother had told them, so it was true. hah :) yes actually, i would like to learn vampire killing magic please holly. and holly, who didn't really want to bring someone with her, but kind of does believe in accidents not being a thing, decides that yeah, she probably should bring maria along. and sure!! if they have to deal with sanata again, why not teach her hamon!! they share stories and continue to follow the trail while they train together, and become really close friends! jobro time.

we've now reached the first third of the story.

we travel further south!! soon, holly begins to realize......... ohh..... the temple they found santana in.. that's south of here, isn't it? oh huh. what could he want there?? the masks have been destroyed as far as she knows?? she doesn't know enough first hand to know what significance there could be, but the girls prepare for anything. maybe a big weapon the researchers had not been able to identify?? MOre pillarmen, secretly living underneath the temple??? 

(there are gonna be some scenes that involve lisa lisa and joseph figuring out where they need to go, and maybe also realizing who set that trail, maybe they have smth else going on, who knows) 

holly and maria follow santana and eventually do find the temple, and prepare to stake it out, hopefully hopefully not alerting him to their presence, because that would be.........bad. (tho tbh marias kinda itching to try out vampire begone magic. wouldn't You want to if you suddenly learned how?) neither of them have ever been here so they're honestly pretty floored by the temple interior, the tunnel that leads into the main chamber dark and uninviting, with who knows what hidden dangers are lurking about. 

and then they see him. santana is investigating the place where the pillar had been cut out of the structure, the stone masks crushed and broken, strewn around the floor, running his hands over the broken stone. Then he walks to one of the murals carved into the wall, a large one, similar to the one speedwagon had been investigating, with the 4 faces representing the pillarmen, and he lingers there. dips his head, then walks back to the empty space of the pillar and sits down where it was, crosslegged, and closes his eyes. and then he stays still. what does That mean?? 

the girls decide this is enough, they should fall back and formulate a proper plan, maybe wait for joseph and lisa lisa to catch up. buuuut we can't have that be the end of it, and so something happens, maybe one of them trips? steps on rubble that falls loose? they make a noise. and get noticed. 

change of plans! fight now! except there isn't an attack? they stay still but “i know you're there.” damn it. battle formation, stances ready, they make their way into the chamber, where santana hasn't moved at all. he's still sitting there, but he's looking at them now. holly asks what he's doing here, he asks the same back. she says not to play dumb, hes been killing people this whole time, he has to answer for that! and to that, santana honestly looks a bit confused because. has he? in his defense, he's not human, his prey is humans. pillarboy has to eat.

marias like “well? aren't you going to attack us?” and he's like “not unless you bother me.” and closes his eyes again. the girls aren't sure what to make of this.

santana side paragraph: first of all, this is a santana stan account. name one (1) thing he's done wrong, canonically. woke up in a strange place. captured?? got his bearings, tried to Leave and was accosted! shot some nazis (go king), and finally only snapped when joseph got mad he didn't laugh at his clownery. anyone would get murderous as a result. tried to escape further, ultimately was stopped and detained Again! morally, he's above joseph. 

so they're just standing now. since their earlier encounter where holly used hamon, santana refuses to talk more at first, but holly has the bright idea to get his trust by having maria restrain her and then stand back with her weapon -- a show of putting herself in a helpless position and promise she wont attack. that’s enough for santana to agree to come closer and have a proper conversation.

holly asks again why he's here exactly? what's here? and he tells her that if she Must know, he's waiting. waiting for what, she asks. and maria looks back at the carvings and realizes “oh. there should be 4 of them.” now santana looks mildly uncomfortable, and holly rememebers that “oh fuck, dad killed all of them.” and then “wait they were evil tho??” and then again “wait fuuck, didn't the leader guy say they left this one behind in mexico on purpose? oh man does he Know?” holly finds herself in the position of “not only do i have to tell this guy his friends aren't coming because they're Dead, they also kinda abandoned him.” yikes.

meanwhile maria is kinda pissed that her one chance at revenge might have just been taken from her. she still blames santana for what happened to her brother, and she refuses to let that go. she’s too stubborn and proud for that. and now, especally since holly seems to be focused on creating a bond, it feels like a slap in the face. so she kinda… snaps, ruining their chance at resolving this peacefully and causing santana to run off again. she and holly have a fight. it sucks.

soon after that joseph does find holly and he Does send her home. maria, after explaining her intentions, stays with them. holly is heartbroken :( after shes gone, joseph and lisa lisa make a plan to trap santana, aimed to go off in a few days prep, and during this, maria is starting to realize that that... really isnt the right thing to do... shes now had some time to sit alone with her guilt and regret about how she handled the situation, ssso she gets an idea on how to make up for it...

meanwhile holly is sitting at home and is sad, until suzie drives her somewhere in guise of going to a fancy lunch with smokey (whos in town), but really she drives her to the joestars airpad where her friend marua(!!) is already waiting in front of joseph’s plane, which, turns out, she hijacked in the south and flew all the way up here, and suzie tosses holly a bag with clothes and stuff and tells her to hurry up and get going :3

and hollys all "but what about lunch with mr smokey? :o" and suzie winks at her and says "don't worry, he's waiting for me to tell him everything went well at the restaurant ;)" and then holly gives her a big hug, runs to her friend and hugs Her, and they are off to fly back south to save some lives. on the way, maria apologizes and explains -- how she had harboured this resentment for so long that the sudden target for her blame put in front of her, plus the immediate removal of it were so jarring that she acted impulsively... she knows santana isnt at fault for what happened with her brother... and now she just hopes they make it in time.

as luck would have it, they catch up with joseph and lisa lisa just in time to jump between them and santana (maria accidentally cuts off joseph’s prosthetic hand in the process and freaks the fuck out before realizing it’s fine) and try to talk it out. it’s a tense few minutes, but holly is determined and stubborn, and she manages to get her dad and grandma to see her side of things and santana is saved! they find something for him to eat, giving him the energy to heal his wounds. pillarmen absorbing shit never gets old.

And from there it’s mostly just everything getting settled down and smoothed out. they get back in touch with the swf and tell them the problem is handled. santana turns out to be a relatively peaceful dude when his life isn’t being threatened, and he becomes a good friend with all four of them, but especially holly and maria. they help teach him about the modern world and he decides that he’s going to do some travelling and learn about the history of his culture and other ancient mesoamerican cultures he interacted with in his youth, and he shares the things he learns with the swf so they can get the info about where theyre needed etc.  maria gets hooked up with one of the many therapists we decided work at the swf that has experience with the supernatural things she and her brother have gone through. holly, maria, and santana stay in touch and go on regular trips together. holly receives many post cards.

it’s all really good and happy :) thats heart unbound baybee!! <33

[dishwater-blondie]

Felix, Chat Blanc, and the missing piece of the Agrestes.

So, the two whole things I wanted out of Felix were Nathalie kicking ass and support for my thoughts on Chat Blanc, which you can read here and here. Both, I’d say, have been satisfied.

It was important that the episode subverted a lot of the shit we saw in Chat Blanc, firstly because, as I stated in those posts, I recognized Chat Blanc as an antithesis to the show’s overall story. When the conflict reaches its boiling point down the road, we aren’t going to see the events or the characterization we witnessed in that episode, not only because the OOC portrayal of Hawkmoth does not do previous exploration of internal conflict any justice, but because the creators would surely not repeat any of the major things we have already seen. That means we can safely bet that Chat Noir will not discover is mother in the coffin, that Hawkmoth will not knowingly akumatize him, or treat him in such a cruel way that will recreate the same emotional resonance that led Chat to be akumatized in the first place.

Secondly, Chat Blanc left a pretty bad taste in everybody’s mouth about Gabriel, and rightly so. His actions were vile. There is no way to defend them. So, if we are to move forward with this character’s development, and bear with him through episodes like Ladybug – where he actually seizes upon his doubts about putting Nathalie in danger – and the finale – where he is repeatedly reminded of his guilt for letting her help him – then, we need to be told by Felix that the utterly brutal way he was depicted in CB is not who he truly is. Rather, it was a demonstration of what his character will thankfully never become.

There’s a reason that these two pretty Agreste-centric episodes are placed side by side, especially because their portrayals of the family dynamic are so wildly different. We are supposed to recognize the dissonance. We are supposed to understand that only one of these depictions can be authentic, and I don’t know about you, but I’m going to trust the episode that hadn’t been literally and metaphysically erased from the timeline.

I want to first compare the difference in the way Gabriel/Hawkmoth treats Adrien, particularly in regards to telling him the truth about his mother, in Chat Blanc and Felix. In Felix, Gabriel accepts Nathalie’s suggestion to be honest with him without any argument. He approaches Adrien and sits at his level; he struggles to find the right words, is on the verge of allowing himself to be truthful and vulnerable to his son about this person they are both missing. This is not nearly similar to what happened in Chat Blanc.

In Chat Blanc, Hawkmoth found out his son was Chat Noir and had evidently made no attempt to come to him as just his father like he did in Felix. He engaged him in battle. By learning his son’s identity, he was presented with the opportunity to possibly end things peaceably, but he never went to Adrien. He went right for the heroes, and the truth only comes out when he is backed into a corner.

The circumstances of these two episodes are wildly different, but the question is begged, How can Gabriel both be so willing to be honest and sensitive with his son with nothing but Nathalie to make the suggestion and so willing to immediately resort to violence and manipulation to share the same truth? These two situations contradict each other. These two ways Gabriel views and treats his son contradict each other. The intentionality of episode placement and polarized characterization of these moments goes to show that only one of them demonstrates his true nature.

Something else I have previously pointed out is that all the events that lead to Chat Noir’s akumatization in Chat Blanc are events that would contribute only to his misery. Adrien has faced disappointment and isolation throughout the series and before it. We know he will be happy in the end, and we know this happiness connects to the hope he has in Gabriel. 

“He’s very protective of me.”

This is his reaction to being asked if he always does what his father asks of him. He smiles fondly, the music changes. The moment is coded as sweet. And it is later followed up by Gabriel ordering Nathalie to get him somewhere safe as his first priority. 

Now could have been Adrien’s opportunity to vent to Felix about his father’s control of him. We’ve seen him complain in the past. Why not now, when he is directly asked? 

If this episode was in part intended to convey the Agreste family dynamics in contrast with their depiction in Chat Blanc, an episode that explored one horrible conclusion to the story, then what we’re being told is that Adrien’s expressions of patience and hope for his father will result in payoff in the real story’s conclusion.

Chat Blanc shows us that even when his father has acted at his worst, traumatized him with the revelation of his mother, thrown him into the Eiffel Tower, threatened, and akumatized him, he is still incapable of choosing between his father and Ladybug. He takes the hit himself. Chat Blanc could have been an opportunity to show that Adrien does have his limits with his father. That if Gabriel were that cruel, he could stand his ground. He could be alright. 

But no. 

Adrien wouldn’t be okay if his father treated him that way, nor would he be able to turn his back on him. What does that leave but misery and destruction? Adrien has hope in his father because it is the story’s way of telling us that those hopes will be realized. 

And as for Gabenath, well, I’m of the opinion that it’s existence up to this point is sufficient enough evidence of it being endgame. Why would the show explore two characters with two different relationships with Gabriel, who both believe in him, and who both know him better than all other characters, only for both of them to end up being wrong? Why would Adrien and Nathalie, hero and villain, both be penalized for having faith in Gabriel? Why would we have a main antagonist in Hawkmoth who actually demonstrates change and character development, is shown to have doubts about his goal, and then is ultimately written as though there was never any hope to begin with? And the reason we spent so much time exploring how much hope Adrien and Nathalie have, and how much they care about him, was just to prove THEM wrong? Why trouble oneself? 

But then Felix comes along, and it seems to be that Gabenath, if it wasn’t already certain, is dead set now. Adrien approves. Adrien recognizes that this is how his father can be happy. 

Here they sit, in front of Emilie’s statue one year after she has disappeared, and Adrien wants nothing else but for his father to be happy. 

Emilie is not the goal. This story isn’t about getting her back. That scene isn’t about Adrien missing this positive force in his life. Not even Chat Blanc spent more than a minute on her. Adrien, instead, turns to his father, and tells him he wants to be happy. The Hawkmoth conversation is shut down before it begins. The moment is about moving on. 

As my friend, Windcage so eloquently put it,

Emilie is not the missing piece in Adrien’s life, Gabriel is.

Gabriel is the person who needs to be found. 

And for that to happen, he can’t be as he was in Chat Blanc, so unrecognizably cruel, sadistic even. He can’t be gone. Felix showed us that he isn’t. Ladybug and the finale showed us that he is starting to latch on to the things that are still there with him. 

He’s still in reach. 

I could say a lot more about this episode, but I’m stopping there for now. Thanks for bearing with me. :)

[lostbutterflyutau]

Soothing the Storm

Note: Originally written for weekly challenge prompt “storm” on the Fandom of Avalor. Now, I know I actually missed that deadline, but considering it is a ship fic, I feel it fits both that prompt and “Love” as well.

I’d also like to take time to thank @ograndebatata for suggestions throughout and taking time, as always, to beta for me.

***

“What do you think, Cleo? Will Audrina choose Marcelo or Nathaniel?” Carla asked as she turned a page in the book she was reading, gave a quick glance to the stuffed cat tucked in her left arm. “I mean, sure. Marcelo has that typical ‘suave prince’ thing going on, but Nathaniel is the one who’s sending those letters. I just know it!”

Of course, Cleo didn’t respond. The soft, innocent expression on her face stayed the same as it always had, but Carla still laughed to herself. She knew she wouldn’t get an answer, but she still liked talking to Cleo from time to time. She wasn’t sure she’d be able to explain ‘why’ if asked, but she still did it. She wondered for a moment if it was a sign that she’d become too attached to her or some lingering echo of the past loneliness she had felt as a child and then shook off the idea. She didn’t need to justify it. Point was, she just liked talking to her sometimes, usually when trying to work out complicated homework or, as she was doing now, the plot of her latest romance novel.

Carla looked at her companion again, sighed as she leaned further back into her pillow, “But first she needs to do something about that aunt of hers.” She frowned at the thought, turned focus back to the book. Somewhere in her mind, she knew she should be studying for her upcoming potions exam but was quick to shrug that off as well. She deserved a little break. Especially with how hard she’d already been working in regard to that exam. Besides, she just had to know how this chapter ended.

She turned another page, a silly grin returning at the letter in the following scene and how, after reading it, Audrina decided to meet the sender at the ball as requested. It was the oldest, most cliché plot device ever, but Carla found herself hooked on every word. There were many reasons she hid her love of these books from pretty much everyone, the stupidly cliché plotlines being one of them. While she knew they weren’t meant to be taken seriously, she was also aware of how other people viewed such novels and the stereotype of people who indulged in them and wasn’t interested in being one of them.

‘Please, don’t let this be another one of those misunderstandings that sends her after the wrong man,’ Carla thought to herself as she read on. Despite having promised herself that she would stop at the next chapter, she kept going, told herself she’d get up after finishing this one. This was the masquerade ball. The typical turning point for such stories. Whoever Audrina’s love was, they would finally get to talk face to face and – hopefully – share their first, honest kiss without any more disguises. And, given the rating of the book, she guessed that the kissing would be followed by another way of conveying their feelings. One that was more intense than kissing, but from what she knew of the author, just as loving.

She gave first a dreamy sigh and then a soft giggle at the thought before continuing on through that chapter and then part of the next one, forgetting what she’d promised herself. She just had to see that kiss, which seemed like it was finally going to happen when, after navigating a room full of curious people, Audrina finally made her way to the garden in hopes that her mystery man would be there just as the letter said. And then she saw him with his back turned to her, mask in hand. Her heart racing, she opened her mouth to speak and…

“Ah!” Carla startled out of the story, her book flying up when she jumped at the loud crack of thunder that sounded outside.

‘What the – ?’ She turned to look at the double-doors that led to her balcony, raised an eyebrow at the sound of the rain pattering against the glass. It had been raining on and off most of the day, but now seemed more intense than before. She frowned, turned, and slid off the bed, shivering a little when her bare feet hit the cold ground. She then took in a breath when she reached the doors and grabbed one of the violet drapes, hoping that there wouldn’t be any unpleasant surprises as she gently peeled it back, eyes widening when she saw how dark the sky had gotten. She quickly glanced at the clock, thinking that maybe it was simply later than she thought. Of course, it wasn’t. Dinner had only ended two hours ago, and while it was past sunset, she had to concede to the fact that this wasn’t ordinary darkness. It was storm darkness.

Her frown deepened at the very word. Storm.

Carla slunk behind the curtain, one hand holding tight to the fabric as her eyes scanned the sky. On a logical level she knew that there was nothing to be afraid of. Not while she was safe and protected in the palace. Yet, she couldn’t help the dread that came along each time those type of clouds rolled in. Part of her hated it. Hated herself for still holding to such a silly childhood fear. The other jumped again when a flash of lightning broke through, a startled squeal leaving her lips as she stumbled backward, her foot getting caught in an upturned corner of the rug.

“Ow,” She muttered, rubbed the sore spot on her backside and took a moment to gather herself before she sighed and moved to stand back up. Despite her better judgement, she stepped towards the window again and gave the sky another hesitant glance, shivering at both the clouds and the rumbling she heard in the distance.

***

Meanwhile, upon hearing that same rumble, Gabe briefly looked up from his paperwork, his eyes narrowing slightly. He had expected a storm given the day’s weather but had thought it would be a light one. He set the finished report on top of the others, tried to shake off the rising uneasiness in the pit of his stomach. It wasn’t that he had a problem with heavy storms, it was that Carla did and he hated how much they stressed her out. Not that it was her fault. It was just… there was only so much comfort he could offer during such times. Especially when he wasn’t even near her.

‘It’s still more than what you can offer by staying here,’ A voice pointed out from the back of his mind.

Gabe’s eyes narrowed another fraction. Yes. He could do more if he were with her at the moment, and he did want to be there comforting her to the best of his ability, but he also had things to do still. He had to get through this stack. It was already two days late and if he pushed it off any longer, more would just pile up on top of it. Besides, it wasn’t like she was completely alone. She had plenty of other people she could turn to if she really needed it. Elena even resided in the same hallway. If she really needed company, she could go to her. Or even come down to his office if it was him she needed. He wouldn’t turn her away, not on a night like this.

Though reluctant to do so, he turned back to his paperwork, tried to push the thought out of his mind as he picked up the next report. Unfortunately, changing focus didn’t do much. Thoughts of Carla and how she was coping remained in the back of his mind.

‘Stop it,’ He told himself. ‘She’s fine.’

He paused for a moment and took in a slow breath to recentre himself, turned the page over. He shifted his thoughts back to his work, determined to keep focus as he read over the page before him, making notes when needed.

Before he knew it, he had gotten through that report, and then another, a mix of pride and relief seeping through him as he closed it, glad to see that, for the most part, the guard was doing well. Of course, there were a few things to address. There always were. New recruit Arias looked like he needed a good dose of humility similar to the one Gabe himself had gotten in his early days. Then there were Rojas and Paz, who were butting heads often enough that he was considering separating them into different units. But those were both relatively minor infractions. Overall, he was proud to have maintained consistently good results since being appointed Captain.

A small smile breaking through at the thought, Gabe set the finished report on top of the designated pile and grabbed the next unread one, hoping that it would continue the trend of good news. The moment he opened it, however, a deafening thunderclap suddenly crashed into his ears, the impact making him flinch violently enough that he dropped the report.

He sat up, turned toward the window just in time to see two separate flashes of lightning cross the sky. His mind immediately turned back to Carla, the last storm they’d weathered together and how she’d showed up at his bedroom door in the middle of the night. While she tried her best to stay composed, when he opened the door, a violent rumble had her jumping into his arms. She ended up staying for the rest of that night, curled up close and clinging to him as he gently rubbed her back and soothed her through the howling winds and booming thunder until she finally fell back asleep, hand still intertwined with his.

As cheesy as it sounded, Gabe liked being that comforting presence for her. Sure, she could go to someone else, but it wouldn’t be the same. They wouldn’t know what was wrong or how to help. By her own admission, only he and Victor knew about her fear. She was too ashamed to tell anyone else because of how silly she felt it was and how she – Carla Delgado – Princess of Harmony, Royal Event Coordinator and Malvaga in training – could be brought down by some rain and thunder.

His frown returned at the thought just as another streak of light flashed across the sky. It was then that he set down his pen, decided that the reports could wait. It didn’t matter if more piled up later. What mattered now was Carla and how lonely she probably was at the moment. She hated feeling alone. Years of having no one to rely on but her father had been responsible for that. Not that he blamed anyone. It was simply the nature of her lifestyle. But simply understanding why she felt that way didn’t make him feel for her any less. And knowing both about her dislike of being alone and her fear of storms, he couldn’t help but be worried. He had to make sure she was alright.

***

“Carla?” Gabe called, gently rapping on her bedroom door once he arrived and giving a quiet sigh when she didn’t answer. He didn’t know why he expected her to. She was probably hiding. Even he had been startled by how booming the thunder was as he made his way through the halls. He tried knocking again, called her name a second time and put his ear to the door, listening for any sign of movement.

He waited another few seconds before pushing down the handle, announcing as he opened the door, “I’m coming in.”

Once inside, his eyes quickly scanned the room, seeing nothing out of place until they fell over the bed. While he didn’t actually see Carla, he did see a lump of purple that told him she was there curled up underneath her blanket. He smiled at the sight. Not because she was scared, but because of how cute she looked in acting as if she could use her blanket for protection from the storm.  

“Carla,” He said, this time in a softer tone as he crossed the room to the bed, set a gentle hand on her back.

‘Gabe?’ Carla thought, though she didn’t respond out loud, only clutched Cleo tighter. While part of her was happy to have his company, she also wondered why he was there. She hadn’t expected to see him at all, especially after he turned down her offer for a parlour date earlier, saying that he’d be busy catching up on reports all evening. They’d both already had dinner, so what else could…

‘Oh no…’ She stopped, silently groaned when she realised what it was. Of course the weather had tipped him off. He was the only other person besides her father that knew about the storm thing. She wanted to be grateful that he cared so much, but instead she was annoyed. How would she ever learn how to handle herself if he kept swooping in to rescue her? If she wanted him there, she would have either sent for him or taken the trip down to the barracks herself, just as she’d done before.

She then realised that, in all the times she’d done so, Gabe never turned her away and never judged her for the reason, whether it be a thunderstorm, nightmare or stomach-ache. Instead, he let her in and did his best to make her feel comfortable regardless of the ailment. Which is exactly what he wanted to do now. Except that instead of her coming to him, he found her first.

She sighed to herself, the guilt briefly making her forget the raging storm outside until a fierce thunderclap broke her thoughts. She whimpered, curled into herself even more.

“Come on, Carla,” Gabe coaxed as he carefully rubbed her back. “You can’t stay under there all night.”

“Why not?” She replied. It was safe there. She was warm and cozy and had a friend with her. Sure, she could still hear the thunder and the constant pattering of the rain against the windows, but at least she couldn’t see it or the lightning.

He smiled as an idea came to mind, teased, “Because if you do, I won’t get to see your pretty eyes.”

“You look at them all the time.”

“Doesn’t mean I get tired of it.”

Unable to help it, she quietly giggled at his teasing, figured that, at the very least, she owed him some kind of appearance for coming all this way.

Gabe went to speak again, stopping when he saw and heard shuffling along with the soft jingle of a bell as Carla shifted around and finally pulled the blanket back and off of her head, the smile returning at the thought that she looked like a ruffled little kitten coming out to explore the world after a nap.  

“There’s my Cutie!” He said with a laugh, eyes soon falling on the ‘actual kitten’ still tucked in her arms who also had her head sticking out. “Hi, Cleo.”

“What do you want?” She asked and moved to sit up, the blanket still around her shoulders.

He reached over, moved a loose strand of hair out of her face, “I just came to check on you. I know how you get when the weather’s like this.”

She frowned, “Not that I’m ungrateful, but I don’t need checking, Gabe. I’m not a baby.”

He gave her a sympathetic look. Even after all this time she still had trouble with being seen as vulnerable. And he didn’t blame her. From an outside perspective it could be seen as “just a silly fear”, but for her it was very real. “I know you’re not a baby. But you are my Cutie. And you’re scared. I can see it in your eyes.”

“No I’m not,” She retorted, crossed her arms.

He chuckled, pointed out, “Carla, you’re hiding under the blanket with your kitty.”

“Well… Um…” Realising she was caught, her eyes widened slightly before shifting around and finally settling on Cleo. “That’s because Cleo is scared,” She argued, holding the cat closer to her chest.

Gabe smiled, replied, “And so is her owner.”

Immediately, her eyes shifted downward, that same wave of shame she felt when he first entered the room coming back over her. “Yeah, but…” She started and then stopped, took a minute to think over what she wanted to say as her hands idly ran over Cleo’s back.

“But?” Gabe pressed.

She sighed, admitted, “I shouldn’t be scared. I know that I’m safe here. Far safer than I ever was during some of those roadside stops with Papa. And yet –”

“Carla,” He started, slipping a careful finger under her chin. “Look at me.”

She did, the warm, comforting look in his eyes reassuring her as he continued.

“I get how you feel. Fears like this aren’t exactly rational. I mean, look at me. I’ve taken on all sorts of evildoers and yet, I’m terrified by something as small and harmless as a gecko.”

A brief giggle escaped Carla’s lips at the reference as she recalled the day she learned about his fear during a brief weekend getaway to Ophidian Island with their friends and how silly it seemed at the time. But, despite thinking it was silly, she also reassured him that she didn’t think any less of him for it.

“But even if I wasn’t, that’s not the point. The point is that it’s okay to be scared. Even if the reason might seem silly to others, it’s real to you and the people who care about you,” He finished, sliding the finger he hand on her chin upward until he was cupping her cheek.

Carla didn’t respond, not right away, only closed her eyes and leaned into his hand. When she opened them again, he was still there giving her that same reassuring look. She opened her mouth to speak, but before she could even think of a word, she was interrupted by yet another thunderclap accompanied by a harsh streak of lightning that instead of speaking, had her gasping as she pulled the blanket back over her head and resumed “kitten mode.”

“Come here,” Gabe encouraged, returning his hand to her back and waiting while she first peeked out, looking from him to Cleo and back again before carefully setting the cat aside and then crawling across the bed and over to him. He gave her a moment to settle herself across his lap, her arms coming to wrap around his neck while his own hands found their places, one settling on her back and the other on top of her leg.

She nestled her head into the crook of his shoulder and let out a breathy sigh, eyes fluttering closed as his hand moved up and down her back. She felt stupid for being stubborn initially. Gabe was right. It was not only okay for her to be frightened; it was also safe for her to let him know.

He smiled at the way she easily settled into him, grateful that he was able to make her feel better, even for a little bit. All he wanted was for her to feel safe and loved, especially during times like this. Storms often left her feeling lonely, helpless, and distressed, things that she’d felt more than enough times in her life and that, if he had his way, she wouldn’t feel again. Unfortunately, he knew that his ability to make that happen was limited. Life wasn’t exactly the most predictable foe. But he would still try his best whenever he could.

The thought driving a wave of protectiveness through him, he tightened his hold on her, hoping to convey through his touch that he was there for her. Then, his heart leapt as another deafening thunderclap boomed overhead, accompanied by a particularly bright flash that lit up the whole room and drew a startled yelp from Carla as she clung even more tightly to him, burrowing her head further into his shoulder.

“I know,” He soothed, his hand resuming its up-and-down motions on her back while the other shifted, fingers brushing against the black ruffle on her dress. He was then suddenly aware of the fact that Carla was still in her daytime dress. He threw a quick glance to the clock, which told him that it was past her usual bath time. On any other night, she would either be in the bath or already in her nightclothes and curled up with a book or looking over her studies. The thought reminded him of how those long baths relaxed her and sparked an idea in his mind.

“I have an idea,” He said, getting a curious look in response once Carla lifted her head. “Why don’t I set you a bath? Something perfume-y with extra bubbles.”

Carla raised an eyebrow. “Why? Do I smell or something?”

“What? No! Of course not. I just thought it might relax you,” He explained, continued with an inviting look in his eyes, “When the door is closed the bathroom is relatively quiet. We could draw the drapes and set you up one of those ‘cheesy’ candlelight baths like in your books.”

Carla giggled at his last comment, added, “Only if there’s rose petals too.”

“Well, I can’t make any promises on that front.”

She faked a sigh, said as she slid off of his lap, “I guess I’ll have to settle for a rose scent instead.”

He chuckled, promised as he crossed the room, “I’ll keep that in mind.”

She giggled again, moved to shut the curtains again before stepping over to her armoire to pull and set aside both her usual nightgown and bathrobe. She then turned her attention to the drawer at the bottom and opened it, taking a minute to rifle through its contents before finding his pyjamas. He hadn’t said anything about staying, but she hoped he would. No one could say how long the storm would last and if it ended up going through the night, she would prefer to not sleep alone.

Once both sets of clothing were laid out on the bed, Carla moved onto her vanity and winced when she saw how static from the blanket had mussed her hair.

“Good thing I’m done for the night,” She muttered to herself as she started to take down and brush out her hair, shivering halfway through when a smaller thunderclap sounded. She hoped the bath would do some good in distracting her for a bit. Warm, lustred water and perfumed bubbles sounded more than inviting and far better than huddling under blankets like a child. She stood, gave a delicate sigh at the thought of sliding into the water and letting it take over her body and her fears as she tossed aside and traded her clothes for her robe, finishing with the tie just as Gabe called her into the bathroom.

Once she crossed the doorway, she let out a small gasp. He’d not only put out the tea candles like she suggested, but rearranged some of her flowers around them, even tossing a few into the water.

“You like?” Gabe asked, a teasing hint in both his voice and gaze.

“I do,” Carla replied, her smile curving into a smirk as she stepped over to him, slid her hands around his neck. “But… I’d like it even more if you’d stay.”

Gabe blinked. It wasn’t an unfair request. Nor an unexpected one. He’d had a feeling that she would ask him to join her given the current weather situation. And since resolving to see her, he hadn’t planned on going back to work. Especially not after seeing how badly this particular storm had frightened her.

“Come on, Gabe,” She said, her voice cutting through the fog of his thoughts. “Join me?”  She encouraged and tilted her head slightly, the eager yet pleading look in her eyes slowly working its magic.

He met her gaze, thinking just how sincere she looked. Somehow, he knew that, more than anything, she wanted his company. The bath was an afterthought. Sure, it would be nice to sit back and relax with her while the water worked its own magic on them, but the best part would be the two of them just being together and enjoying each other’s company.

“Of course,” He finally agreed, lips turning up into the smallest of smiles at the way her eyes lit up in response.

She didn’t say anything, only leaned up to touch her lips to his in a soft kiss that she hoped conveyed her appreciation for him, what he’d already done for her that night and how happy she was that he was willing to stay.

***

Sometime later, once they were both properly bathed, dried, and dressed, they returned to the bed, this time to snuggle up under the covers, each one holding a hand onto the book Carla finally picked up off the floor.

Gabe turned a page at her nod, asked, “So, let me get this straight… Iduna – ” “Audrina,” She corrected him with a huff, shifting her free arm and Cleo over slightly.

“Right. Audrina,” He nodded to himself, continued, “So, Audrina is in love with this guy she only knows through letters?”  

Carla shrugged. “Yes and no. She knows Nathaniel. He’s a family friend. But she doesn’t know that he’s the one writing the letters.”

“Oookay. And where does this Marcelo guy fit in?”

“He’s the prince that’s been chasing Audrina since childhood. And it would be a great marriage if she picked him, but she’s not so sure. Her aunt, however, is. And she’s going to do everything she can to get her daughter into his good graces instead, including humiliating her niece.”

“Huh. I guess these books are a little more complicated than I thought,” Gabe mused, absentmindedly playing with the ruffle on the end of her sleeve.

She carefully pulled the book out of his hand, marked the page before handing it back. “And what did you think?” She asked, looking up at him with a smirk as if she already knew what he was going to say.

Knowing what she wanted, Gabe took the book, said as he set it on the nightstand to his right, “That they were all about torrid displays of fantasy with bits of plot sprinkled in to make it feel like more than cheap smut.”

It wasn’t exactly the answer she was expecting, but close enough. She had figured he would say they were all cheap smut. She shifted again, moved to wrap her arm around him so she could snuggle in closer. “I guess that’s fair,” She admitted. “There are romance novels like that. This just isn’t one.”

“Oh?” He said, lips curving into a teasing smile, “Any I should know about?”

“Like I’d tell you,” She teased back, nestled her head against his chest.

A playful chuckle escaped his lips, his smile still in place as he moved his hand to run it over her hair. “Well, if you ever change your mind, you know where to find me.”

She playfully swatted his arm and rolled her eyes in mock annoyance, earned another laugh from him in response as he continued stroking her hair, his teasing smile melting into a warm, reassuring one.

Another thunderclap sounded overhead, making Carla’s heart jump. She didn’t flinch, however, only tightened her hold on both Cleo and Gabe as he hugged her, her heart slowly settling as her eyes did, his warmth and the soft beating of his heart against her ear helping to lull her to sleep.

He kissed her head, reached over to shut off the lamp on the nightstand. He then adjusted first her blanket and then his as he settled down with her, comfort and peace claiming them both for the night despite the raging storm outside.

[unordinary-analysis]

Episode 170

Honorable mentions:

Blyke is pissed at this guy

I’m not sure if I can call the superhero posse the superhero posse anymore because Blyke is kind of doing his solo superhero thing now, but I mean he’s part of the posse, and nothing is really contradicting. Yeah I’ll keep calling them that. The nature of the group changed, but not the basics.

Superhero posse is Remi, Blyke, and Isen btw

At the end of my first paragraph, when I say, “-with the complications of a real world situation,” I am aware that the UnOrdinary universe is not real, lmao. The phrasing I used is to try to convey that the factors of things like actual performance ability in regards to power are the roots of this system. So rather than being presented with a society whose classifications exist just for the hell of it, like it seems with a lot of stories, it is clear in UnOrdinary that the hierarchy is prompted and necessary, which makes it harder to debate the morality of its nature when presented with issues like discrimination or abuse of authority. Just a quick note. Probably should have made that more clear, but I didn’t want to go too off topic lol. I do that too much already.

Tfw you didn’t think you would find much to write about and the all of a sudden you have pages of writing

No clue what to say about the end of the episode. I don’t have any predictions as to what Kuyo might want. His history with Rei could go either way because we still don’t know if he stayed a hierarchical abuser or if he eventually turned to Rei’s side. Until we know that, and maybe even then, I won’t say anything.

^^also just lazy this is long already and I have to write another of these

My eyes are numb to this sorry if the transitions are confusing

Low Tiers vs. High Tiers: Newside and Origin Edition:

So, and I’m aware this is a skillfully awful way to start this post, we’re all aware of how bad the tensions are between different tiers, especially in places like Wellston. But in this episode, and the few before it, there’s finally a chance to explore into this concept outside of the select group of teenagers that make up Wellston Private High School. And, yes, we’ve gotten a few examples outside of this when Remi spent time as a vigilante, and also when the superhero posse got into some trouble at Kovoro mall. I don’t know, Remi just brings out the injustice in people for some reason? Anyway, I’m bringing this up now because I don’t think I’ve really talked about this before even when the other examples were relevant. To be fair, I don’t think I was writing these for most examples and during the first superhero arc (Remi’s), I had just started and my posts were like maximum 300 words long. Anyway, I really wanted to take advantage of this opportunity now. It’s always really refreshing to see outside the small bubble we’re normally confined to as the usual focus of the story is on the hierarchy struggle in Wellston and everything to do with it. Though this Blyke arc is very much centered around his struggle with his power and his goal of advancing in the hierarchy, it also opens a window for us to see out, again, into that underlying concept similar to Wellston’s power struggle, but on a more extreme scale. Obviously, the villain of our story, John, is the main focus in the comic because he is the main character, but the villain(?) of the UnOrdinary universe is painted to be the struggle between low and high tiers. The hierachy’s paradoxical creation of social imbalance and social stability is the underlying focus behind uru-chan’s writing in this comic. This is a comic about class struggle with the complications of a real world situation (see honorable mentions above for clarification).

The social dynamic between the different tiers is magnified in the recent chapters’ events and location. We are already aware and comfortable with the concept of higher-tiers (not like high-tiers but higher) preying on low-tier districts to gain power quickly, so it’s a bit less noticeable, or standout, now, for me anyway. But in comparisons to the power struggle at Wellston currently (Joker situation), the situations in these worse off towns is still significantly worse. I’m just going to summarize what’s happening really fast, but hopefully you already know what’s happening because I’m bad at explaining. So basically: lower/mid-tiers or straight up mid-tiers (no known naturally higher-tiers have done this to our knowledge, but more on that later) pick a district known to be filled with low-tiers (always weaker than the offender) and attempt take over in hopes of gaining authority and power. Because no higher-tier has been seen attempting this, I want to say that the cause of this is the feeling deprivation of it in their normal life, where their ability grants them nothing special. Similar to how John reacted shortly after he gained his powers at first, they want to become the oppressor instead of the victims that they’ve always been. By going to lower-tier districts where around a 3.0 (or with aid, something higher), give or take is stronger than anyone else around, these people become “trigger-happy” for lack of a better word. They take advantage of finally being able to do something that they never have before and take it a little far. I do not think there are many motives other than this, especially because in this episode when Blyke was approaching the Newside woman, she thought, “Does he plan on toying with us, just like Lance did?” Take note of the word toying. From her word choices in her conversation with Blyke, I’ve pieced together that all Lance really did was mess things up around Newside, never really doing anything focused or thought through. He was thoughtless and impulsive. Destroyed their town and terrorized its people only because he could. I’ve also hinted at a little bit the use of ability enhancers. From Remi’s superhero arc, we know that some of these lower-tiers are injecting themselves with this enhancement drug to shoot up in strength to be able to attempt anything like this. This means that even if you are the lowest of the low, you have a chance at tasting power, which obviously stretches the number of people pulling something like this. I’m not too concerned about this today, however, because it’s kind of separate from the topic of hierarchical conflict, or at least enough for me to separate it from this post.

This entire concept of low-tier invasion and takeover is an example, probably the most telling one, of the dangers that come from such a polarizing system as the UnOrdinary hierarchy.

Everything I’ve said really seems to lead to the fact that dealing with both injustice and discrimination around ability and people trying to change who they were born to be is unavoidable in a world like UnOrdinary. Obviously, this ranking system was put into place for a reason as exemplified by Rei’s reign at Wellston. But as the world reaches new ages and innovative thinking, the confines of the hierarchical ladder aren’t as stable and reliable as they used to be. I’m sure in the past, the hierarchy has gone along almost without a hitch, but as violence grows due to the harsh pedestal the hierarchy unintentionally puts high-tiers on, and radical ideals are being placed into the heads of anyone who will listen (UnOrdinary the book), the structure of the hierarchy is becoming more fluid, which is confusingly ironic. It’s like the historical Age of Enlightenment reborn. People as a whole are growing more and more restless.

So, the big question is whether or not the hierarchy is still the best design for UnOrdinary’s society. Because while it has created a cushion for accidental and catastrophic incompetence in a more general, everyday context, it has evolved into less normalized, yes, but harsher clashes between the different ability levels. I will say that I, personally, support the idea of the hierarchy because order, when done right, will always defeat brute force. What I’d like to say is that, with proper involvement with the authorities, I think the hierarchical system would run smoothly. And yet they are caught in this circle of trying to stop revolutionary thinking among its civilians. This is why the authorities are trying to put an end to the superhero movement, not because the heroes are helping to clean up the streets, but because in doing so, the superheroes are disrupting the natural hierarchy. See the irony? The authorities aren’t doing what they need to do to stop the hierarchical uprising because they’re busy trying to stop people from rising up against the hierarchy, which somehow contradict. Now, all of this needs a beginning. This cycle obviously had to start somewhere or else the entire history of the hierarchy wouldn’t be so good and desired. The superhero movement is this start for this cycle and they all stem from the same thing: the revolutionary ideas that came from revolutionary thinkers: the book UnOrdinary. Obviously, before this there were some issues with the hierarchical system (allowing John to abuse his power as king), but the issue is more extreme and relevant as I explained in the second paragraph (the thick one), because of the lower-tiers feeling unsatisfied and acting out on other low-tiers because of that. But I really want to let myself believe that UnOrdinary set off a chain reaction in the UnOrdinary universe leading to the class struggles in the extreme state they are currently in. And as the comic is obviously called UnOrdinary, I like to think that there is a reason for that title rather than something so personal and niche as a sentiment of John’s.

[djinmer4]

Letter (Dresden AU)

“Bitte, grrnk!  I can bear no more, nmmmak! Shoot me, erk!  Put me out of my misery.”

“Stop whining.”

“Du Unhold!  You are enjoying this nnmph!  This inhuman torture.”

A giggling reply.  “Of course not.  I just like playing doctor.  Pity, a few snips and it will all be over.”

“Eeeungh!  Nmmph!  Glk . . . Gggnmmph!”

“Okay, okay.  I’m finished already.”

“Aaahhh, wonne.  Danke, Katzchen, danke.  Ooaah, wunderbar . . . the itch was driving me wahnsinnig.”

Kitty helped pry away the last pieces of plaster.  “You’re lucky Moira said it was okay to remove the cast, Kurt.  I’d have left it on for another month.”

“To teach me the consequences of violence, I presume.”

“No, that’s a risk we all accept.”  She carded her fingers lightly through the matted fur, carefully smoothing out some of the tangles that had formed in the past month.  “I meant you’re lucky that you heal so quickly.  Most people would take about another eight weeks to knit.  There’s no significant muscle wastage either.  How do you feel?”

Kurt stood and stretched, bringing his knee up to his chest.  “Starr.  And a little weak.  Mostly I’m just off-balance- I have grown used to compensating for the weight of the cast.”

“You’ll just have to take it easy for the next few days.”

“I have not the time.  I received a letter, via Jean Grey, from an old friend, Jutta.  She needs my help so I am leaving for Germany within the hour.”  He hesitated then looked at his young friend.  “Would you like to come?”

Kitty gave him one of her lopsided smiles.  “Sorry, I can’t.  I got a letter too, from one of my cousins.”

“Wer?”

“Connie Barrowill, on my dad’s side.  No, you don’t know her, we’re not close.  But she’s in college right now and apparently having a bit of trouble.  Since she’s only a few years older than me, her dad asked that I fly over and see how she’s doing, maybe give her some advice.”

“Ah, well, family is family after all.  I wanted to introduce you to my friends from the circus, but it looks like it will have to wait for another time.  I will bring you back a souvenir.”

~~~~~~~

“Connie?  Connie, are you there?  It’s me, Kitty.”  Shadowcat looked around the campus.  She supposed all colleges had similarities, but while Chicago had had a mix of gothic stone and modern concrete architecture, Oklahoma was all brick, much more cohesive.  Also, flat as a pancake.

“Kitty?  Hey, I wasn’t expecting you!”  Connie was just a few inches taller than her, with blonde hair, tanned skin, and blue eyes.  She looked like a stereotypical cheerleader actually, which never failed to annoy Kitty a little.  Everyone else in the Court looked like a supermodel and she just looked like the girl next door.  And if what Thomas told her was right, she’d keep looking like that for the next hundred years or so.

“Yeah, your dad called me.  Said you were having some difficulty with . . . school and that I might be able to answer some questions for you.”  Kitty felt stupid trying to convey her meaning with pauses and eyebrows, but they were in public.

“Oh?  Oh!  Yes, just some stuff you’ll probably find easy.  Here, come in!”  Connie stopped standing in the doorway and let Kitty into the dorm.  They walked up three flights of stairs to Connie’s single room.  Kitty was surprised, there was an aura of lust in the corridor so thick she was surprised normal humans couldn’t detect it.

Once the door was shut, they both dropped the pretense.  “So what happened?”

“Well . . . I take it you know all about our-”

“Our little nutrition problem.  Yes, I do.  But you . . . “  Kitty gave her cousin a good once over.  “But you haven’t changed.  I’m surprised, Lord Raith doesn’t allow fledglings to be told about their heritage until-”

“Until it’s too late.  Yeah, that’s the thing.  Um, Dad said you . . . had an unusual transition.”

Kitty stared at her cousin.  She let out a sigh.  “Yeah.  Mind control.  A body jumper took over and he knew my background.  Decided he wanted all the perks that came with being a vampire, and arranged for the right circumstances then did the deed.”

“So there wasn’t any decision making involved,” muttered the blonde.

“Connie, what exactly happened to you?”

“Oh, um,” her cousin took a deep breath.  “I brought my boyfriend up to my room to make-out.  We didn’t go all the way,” So that explained some things.  “But it was enough to trigger the Hunger.”

“Soo . . . I don’t understand.  Do you want to complete the transformation?  Just invite the boy over and drain him.  Simple enough.”

“No!”  Then Connie’s voice dropped.  “Or well, it’s not that simple.”

“Do you not want to be a vampire?  I can understand that.”

“Maybe.  I’m not sure.  How would you go about doing that?”

“Hmph.  Normally I wouldn’t tell you this information, but since you already know about the Masquerade . . . there’s really only one chance at this.  The first time you have sex and-” Kitty side-eyed her cousin.  “-go all the way.  If you have sex with someone who truly loves you and who you truly love in return, it poisons the demon and kills them.  Then you’ll live the rest of your life as a normal human, and have normal human kids.  But if it’s anyone else, you’ll kill them and become a Pale Hunter.”  She paused.  “How did the guy last long enough that this became an issue?”

“Oh, it turns out he’s the son of a Forest Person.  Dad apparently did some mojo so I’d screw him to death, but he’s got enough resistance that he was unaffected.”

“That explains the aura out in the corridor.  Was that all you needed?”

“Er, no.  Some of the other Forest People blocked Dad’s influence, said they’d give me time to decide if I really wanted to become a vampire or not.  I told Dad that since I actually had a choice, I wanted to know more about it.  So I guess he sent you.”

Kitty leaned back in the chair she had grabbed from Connie’s desk.  “Pros and cons then.  You already know what it’s like to be human, so I’ll leave that alone.  Cons: once you turn into a vampire you have to feed, you have no choice.  If you go too long without it, or something causes you to drain your resources too low, the demon will take over and attack and kill people to feed.  And every time the demon does that, it takes a toll on your mind.  Go into a frenzy often enough, and eventually, you’ll never come out of it.  You’ll just be a mindless monster.

Are you taking notes on this?  You’ll remember it better if you write it down.”

Connie grabbed the notepad Kitty held out to her.  “You’re not worried people might come across proof of the supernatural?”  

Kitty snorted.  “The Masquerade isn’t that fragile.  If anyone asks, tell them you were brainstorming a story with me.  Shall I go on?”  The blonde nodded.  “Okay, pros now.  You get enhanced senses and strength and durability.  Feeding regularly will give you a healing factor, feed enough and you can survive being set on fire and almost being cut in half.”  At Connie’s wide-eyed look, Kitty continued.  “That’s not hyperbole, I’ve actually seen Laura do the exact thing.  It’s not the most powerful healing factor I’ve seen but it’s definitely up there.  Anyway, going on.  It enhances all your physical characteristics, strength (“You said that already”), speed, endurance, dexterity.  Your lifespan also increases, Lord Raith and Laura have lived for centuries.”

The older girl continued to make notes.  “Any drawbacks?  Sunlight and things?”

“Nope, that’s a different court.  No problems with sunlight or silver or iron or religious symbols.”  To prove her point, Kitty opened up the collar of her shirt to show Connie the Star of David she wore.  “Um, you can cross thresholds without being invited, but that does limit your abilities to human norm though.”

“So no weaknesses at all?”

“A few.  We’re definitely not as strong as the other vampire courts.  Also, we have a vulnerability to some types of positive emotion.”  Kitty though for a second.  “You and you’re dad are part of House Ashma that feeds on rage.  So trying to feed off of someone who’s serene or coming into contact with symbols of that could hurt you.

There are some other things that pertain to magic, but that’s not going to be an issue unless you actually become one.  Anything else you want to know?”

“So if I,” Connie hesitated then continued.  “If I don’t want to become a vampire, I don’t have to swear a vow of celibacy or anything like that?”

“And what’s wrong with being celibate?  But no, you just have to make sure that your first time is with someone who really loves you and who you love in return.”  

“What about your mutant powers?  Does it help those?”

Now it was Kitty’s turn to look wide-eyed.  “Charles told you that?”

“It was supposed to be a secret?”

“Well, not really I guess.  I haven’t been hiding it, but I haven’t been advertising it to the rest of the family, that’s all.”  She shook her head.  “Honestly, it’s hard to say.  I pretty much got them at the same time.  But I don’t think so?  I can still use my mutant ability even when my vampire ones are cut off, like when I go somewhere uninvited or warded with a magic circle.  And it doesn’t depend on my feeding either.”

The elder looked over her notes.  “This is all really great information, Kitty.  But it doesn’t answer my question.”  Summer blue eyes looked into paler, icier ones.  “You weren’t given a choice.  But if you had been given one, would you have become a vampire?”

She hissed out between her teeth.  “That’s a very difficult question.  On one hand, I really hate how I transitioned.  I hate the fact I wasn’t given a choice, that someone else was puppeteering my body around, that he chose to kill an innocent to kick-start my powers.  But on the other hand, I love the abilities that being a vampire gives me.  I don’t think I’d be nearly as good a fighter without those abilities and they certainly make me a much more valuable member of the X-Men and Excalibur.  And of course, on the gripping hand, there’s the whole fact I had to kill someone to be like this and can enthrall people and may kill other people in the future.”  

“That’s not a yes or no answer.”

Kitty sucked in another breath.  “If this was a question with easy answers you wouldn’t need my help now, would you?”  Connie closed her eyes and dipped her head.  “I think, when it comes down to it, I do like being a vampire.  And if I had a choice I would do it again, even with how traumatic the transitioning was.  I’d prefer to do it under different circumstances, I mean, I could think of a lot of people who need killing after all, but even if I had to do it that way, I still would.”

“Thanks, Kitty.”  If the two of them had been closer, Connie might have risked hugging the younger girl.  As is, she settled for a firm handshake.  “That’s all I needed to know.”

[sophfandoms53]

History Repeats Itself AU

It all started on that one Christmas Eve. At age 17, when a strange duck dressed all in purple appeared at McDuck manor. She claimed to Webby that she was a distant relative and said her name was Violet. Webby, of course, having a complete encyclopedia of the McDuck tree didn’t really buy it, but didn’t question it.

“So.. where’s Dewey?”

“I don’t know. Probably outside somewhere.”

“Why aren’t you with him? Aren’t you guys like.. together?”

“Yeah we are.. I’m just.. I just wanted some time to myself today.”

“On Christmas Eve? That’s boring! C’mon, lets go find Dewey!”

That was ‘Violets’ main goal. To find the blue duckling. Webby followed the young ones enthusiasm and they went on their quest to find him and when they did, he does his Dewey thing.

“Haha! Caught ya gorgeous!”

“Dewey! I’m not in the mood for one of your games right now!”

“....Dewey..?”

There he was. In the flesh. Not that he’d recognize her at his age. His main concern was getting Webby out of this funk.

“Would you do me a favour and get us down.”

“No.”

“Excuse me?”

“I said no. Not until you tell me what’s wrong.”

“Nothing’s wrong!”

“You’re such a bad liar Webby! I know somethings bothering you.”

“How could you possibly know that!? I haven’t been with you all day!”

“That’s how he knows somethings wrong! You two have been together for over a year now! And even before that, you guys are best friends, of course Dewey’s gonna know when somethings bothering the girl he loves. That’s why he set this all up. He just wanted to spend Christmas Eve with his girlfriend but you were too caught up in your own brooding to notice he was trying to help you- and I have to apologize to my family when I get home.”

“You set all this up.. for us?”

“Well yeah.. this is kind of our spot anyways.”

“Awh, Dewey Im so sorry.. I’ve just been so busy with something I don’t have, that I forgot the great guy I do have.”

“It’s alright, I’ve been there too, Angel.”

Seeing them both happy and in love brought a smile to ‘Violets’ face. This wasn’t something she saw often, and it made her slip up.

“That was some quick problem solving back there Violet. Your parents are lucky to have a such bright daughter.”

She then jumped into his arms hugging him tightly, she’d never had this chance before.

“Um.. okay.. this is happening now.”

“Sorry it’s just, I’ve never been able to spend Christmas with both my- cousins on my great aunt nephews brother side- yes, that was it.”

Dewey and Webby exchanged a look.

“You’re name’s not really Violet, is it?”

“Uhhhhhhh..”

It didn’t take long for Dewey to connect the dots. The girl’s determination to find him and wanting to spend Christmas with both him and Webby, he figured it out. But he knew that meant something else. He couldn’t worry about that now though, who knows when it happens? Before he and Webby sent her off, she left Dewey with this small bit of information.

“Dad-... Dewey!”

“Yeah?”

“It’s Skye.”

“What?”

“My name is Skye.”

Skye thought she could handle it on her own, with the help of her cousin Troy too, but she was wrong. Hiding it wasn’t right. Even with her good intentions.

The look of betrayal and distraught on both her twin brother and younger brother’s faces made her heart snap. She didn’t realize what she was doing until it was too late.

“Skye! What is up with you?!”

“Why are you being so strange! In case you haven’t notice this isn’t exactly the best time!”

She clenched the jacket and bag close to her.

“Because it belongs to Dad!”

“WHAT?!”

Chase, her twin, was furious.

“How do you know this belongs to Dad?!”

“Uh.. I’ve kind of been.. doing some research on him by myself.. only a little bit. I just looked him up in the Archives and when we made that stop to Ithaquack I spoke to the goddess Selene and god Storkules- aaaand this isn’t making my case better.”

“How could you not tell us about this!?”

“I was trying to protect you both in case Dad did something bad!”

“Yeah Okay! Or you just kept to yourself because you’re insecure about your place in this family! Typical Skye! He’s our father!”

“No! It’s not like that Chase! What happened was I didn’t tell you because I didn’t want you guys to get hurt, then with all this new information and holes in the story I couldn’t tell you because I didn’t want you to hurt me! I’m sorry okay!”

“You’re only sorry because you got caught!”

While her twin called her out on her actions, her little brother stayed quiet, steadying his breath as he held his father’s jacket close. It was his dad’s. His father’s. The man he never met. Their father was around for the first two years of Skye and Chase’s life. Danny on the other hand, never knew his father, and having this piece of clothing in his arms, made him feel several things.

“Danny... are you okay?”

“You kept a secret about Dad... nothing about that is okay.”

Desperation. Ambition. Impulsion.

It was the last bit of information she needed. It was now or never. The truth about Dewey Duck.

Her eye was on the prize and nothing and nobody was going to hold her back. Not even her families cries.

Her cousin, Troy, who was with her since the start of the investigation pleaded to her first.

“This is insane Skye! Get back here! I know you want to learn about your dad but this isn’t the answer you’re looking for!”

Danny was next.

“I get it Skye! I want to know what happened to Dad too but you can’t risk all of us just find out what happened to someone we lost!”

Her Uncle Huey grabbed the walkie talkie, holding his son, Troy, close and pleaded to his niece.

“Skye sweetheart please, you have to get back here! I was in a similar situation to this a few decades ago! If your father was here he’d be telling you the same thing I am now! You need to get back here!”

Her twin, Chase, spoke out last.

“Skye, I miss Dad too, and I want to know where he is. But think about this. Mom and the others had to deal with losing him when it happened, and they pulled through together! Don’t you see? Our family is incredible! We’re enough! Let this go!”

Gritting her teeth as anger boiled her blood, she chucked the walkie talkie away.

Let this go?

No.

That wasn’t an option. Not when she was this close. And without knowing the truth about her dad, it would never be enough.

Louie looked on at his niece and watched as she slowly turned into Dewey when he was desperately seeking an answer about Della.

“She really is her father..”

The plane hit a snag and caused the duo to fall onto their bodies. Louie almost falling off the edge, and Skye crashing into the propeller. She looked up and saw the last piece. It was right there. She stood up and reached for it.

Louie pulled up close behind her. Begging and pleading.

“Skye please! I.. okay! I can’t protect you as much as I thought! Okay I said it! How can I get you to come back with me!”

Skye looked at her uncle, her hand crushing the paper, and her glare instense. She opened the paper up and her eyes scanned it. They widened as they looked over the image conveyed in front of them, a glimmer of sadness, tears forming in her eyes but she refused to let them fall.

“You want me to come back?”

“Yes! What can I do?!”

Skye held the paper up and into her uncle’s view as she yelled.

“Tell me what happened to my dad!”

Webby knows her babies are hurting. She’s been there. Losing Dewey was the hardest thing she ever went through. But her children are what kept her at bay. She needed to stay strong for them.

It’s what Dewey would’ve wanted.

When everything happened, Webby cut off ties with everyone and took her kids. She watched on her own as Danny hatched, and helped when he learned to walk and talk. Skye and Chase, despite both being two, helped as much as they could.

They all grew up with little or no memories of their father and it hurt Webby everyday to wake up with no one next to her. This wasn’t suppose to happen.

He promised her he wouldn’t make the mistake his mother did.

He swore he’d be there to see his children grow up.

But he lied.

Possibly.

Webby didn’t know. She had a constant clashing in her chest. Her husband made her have all these mixed emotions. She was angry and furious but she was also hurt and sad. She knows Dewey. She knows he loves her. He would never abandon her like this. There was more to the story, she knew that. But she didn’t know what.

She thought keeping her children away from the McDuck family would make them not want to be apart of adventures but silly her. They have her and Dewey’s DNA in them. Adventure is in their blood and core. Nothing was gonna stop these three rascals.

Letting them see their Uncle Louie, Uncle Huey and Aunt Shelly brought a new happiness to their lives, and she knew that.

But she never told them about their father. She wanted to but.. she was afraid telling them about him meant she’s accepted he’s truly gone. And she didn’t want to accept that. A small part of her believes he’s still out there. Somewhere. And that’s because of her kids. The lights of her life. The reason she looks forward to the mornings. All of them inhabit something from their father. And she took note of that every single day.

When she saw how distraught the truth made them, she had to tell them the rest.

“I get it you’re all upset. We were too. We all miss Dewey very much. But you three need to understand your Uncle Louie didn’t just give up on him. Louie tried everything to get him back. But if he tried anything else,he’d be broke and lost.”

“Broke and lost?”

“He really did try to get Dad back..”

“Well whatever Uncle Louie tried, it doesn’t matter, Aunt Shelly. We’re sticking with our true family. Right mom?”

“...No.”

“W-What?”

“Your Aunt Shelly is right. Louie did everything in his power to find your father. And to no avail. I don’t know exactly what he tried but that’s his brother. He wouldn’t leave him behind.. I walked away from this family before and that was a big mistake. The McDuck’s are always stronger when they’re together. I just.. I forgot that for a moment. But not again. We all need to stick together. Come here my babies.”

Tears welled up in her eyes, as they did in her two sons, who jumped into her arms and she held them tightly, allowing them to sob and let their tears out.

She looked up at her daughter, tears in her eyes.

Skye tried her best to keep her composure but she felt herself slowing falling apart.

“Skye, sweetie, I understand. You’re hurt. You’re sad, scared, and confused. Your father meant more to me than anything. I know what this is like. And it’s okay for you to be upset. Let yourself cry.”

She sniffed and looked down at her boys.

“If your father was here right now, he’d be incredibly proud of the three of you. Awh Danny, if he saw how your hair is when it’s zooshed back, he’d call you his mini him! And Chase, you were his little buddy, champ and warrior! The things you had him chasing you around for! And Skye, you were his baby girl and little princess. I never saw him have so much fun while teaching you how to walk. He was protective of you even when you were in your egg. I guess he knew the beautiful duckling you’d become. You three meant the world to him, and I know he’d give up his life if it meant you’d three are happy.”

Her daughter looked up, tears falling down her cheeks and ran into her mothers arms. She felt her brothers embrace her and the four of them all cried.

They all loved each other. And they all loved him. They knew if he was still out there, he’d be proud.

“We’ll stay strong for him.”

8 years.

He has spent 8 years alone on that orange rock, Mars that is.

Now being on another planet would usually sound like an exhilarating opportunity for Dewey but not when it meant he’d miss so many milestones and life on Earth.

When he first crashed, it was the week his son was suppose to hatch and he missed it.

Dewey did have his hands full at the time, as he had to deal with his right leg being crushed and unable to get it out. He looked around and had no other options.

Hey, Scrooge and Donald did say he reminding them of Della.

With his right leg now amputated, which he did so with the help of Della’s book, and Oxy-Chew on his side, still only Black Licorice flavoured, thanks Gyro.

Dewey has one goal. Get back home.

He missed his son’s hatching, he missed Danny’s first words and steps. He missed Skye and Chase’s birthdays and Danny’s too.

He missed anniversaries with Webby.

Man did he miss his wife.

Other than his kids, she was the only one in his thought.

“What was I thinking!? I just left Webby! And with three kids to raise! On her own! Ugh.. some husband and father I turned out to be..”

Was what he said on his first transmission.

Everyday he looked at their family portrait. Which was him holding Skye in his arms, Webby holding Chase in hers, and each of them placing one hand on Danny’s egg whom was placed in the middle of them.

His children and his wife, they were his motivation. He had to remind himself of that. He needed to get back to them. He needed to get back to her.

Each transmission Dewey tried his best to remain postive but it became harder as each year went on. Things became bleaker and he began to doubt that there was a way for him to get home.

During the 8th year on Mars, Dewey broke down. Collapsing on his knees, the tears he very rarely let fall, were pouring out like waterfalls as he sobbed into his own arms.

“I’ve tried everything! And nothing!”

He felt hopeless. He was stuck. Nothing he tried worked. And he didn’t know what else to do. He looked down at his wedding ring and choked back his tears. He couldn’t even begin to imagine the kind of state Webby’s in. 8 years of raising their kids on her own.. he felt terrible. He wants to be there for her but because of his own stupidity he’s stuck here.

A static sound caught Dewey’s attention. He looked over his shoulder and saw the tv he’d been working on the past few months. He walked over and placed his goggles on, connecting the wires and adjusting the satellite. He saw the picture appearing and heard the sound.

It was a live new casting.

“And all the magic in our town has gone away as Lena and Aurora De Spell have returned to normal and been reunited with Duckburgs saviors! Louie Duck and his family!”

Dewey’s eyes scanned the screen. He saw his younger brother in his green suit, smirking at the camera with his arm wrapped around Lena’s waist whom was in a dark purple gown and her hair had a light pink stripe in it. On the left side of the screen he saw Huey in a red shirt and white vest, with Troy whom was in a similar outfit as his father standing in front of him, and next to Huey he saw Shelly with a short low ponytail, a light blue sweater over her turquoise shirt with a blue skirt. Then on the right side of the screen he saw,

“Webby...”

She looked just a beautiful as ever even with the slight tired look in her eyes. He couldn’t help the small smile that reached his beak at the sight of his wife.

That smile slowly turned to a gape as he looked down at the three small figures standing in front of Webby.

Pink, Purple and Blue.

They were cheering and smiling at the camera. They all looked so familiar.

Dewey slowly placed his hand on the television and it hit him.

He gasped while lifting his goggles up and backed up to get a clear view of the trio.

“...Kids?”

-

They say history repeats itself because we don’t learn from the past.

But what if we do?

And we just make those decisions again hoping for a different outcome?

Or to make sure certain events happen?

History will always find its way to repeat itself.

And it hit the McDuck family in the hardest way possible.

[mmazzeroo]

Whispers of Freedom - ch.1

IT IS HERE!!! 😎

For getting this far as to post this I must thank a few people: @adecila and @tomakeitbeautifultolive for being the first ones to knowingly (unknowingly?) cheer me on. I didn't even know you and yet your encouraging comments made me believe that maybe I should actually try to write this thing. So thank you ladies! 

@helloimnotawesome and @callmedewitt for supporting me, cheering me on and letting me run ideas by you. 

Last but not least a big thank you to @northernlights37 for letting me borrow an idea from one of her stories and transfer it to mine 💕 and to @afcbrandon for helping me choose a title for this fic. 

Big thanks to my sis Val for going over this chapter and help fix my very late night / early morning ramblings + made the gorgeous moodboard. Lova ya, sis! 💖

Without further ado: Read it on AO3 or below:

Whispers of Freedom - ch.1: If by My Life or Death I Can Protect You, I Will

The flames of the funeral pyre fluttered in the wind; pulled and twisted in all directions. Black pillars of smoke blew into the wind, carrying ashes and remains straight out to the sea. Soon there'd be nothing left but the scorched ground the platform had been built upon. Stormcloud had set the pyre ablaze with his own flames before taking to the skies with a heart-breaking screech; leaving no doubt among the spectators how deeply pained the young dragon was by the loss of his rider.

It had been a small and private ceremony. No grand speeches, only silent tears and solemn faces. What could be said about someone who’d grown from a boy into a man while in a deep coma? Someone who’d spent half his life in a vegetative state, while his family kept hoping against hope that a miracle would happen?

While the Queen accompanied the small gathering back to the castle, the King opted to stay behind for a moment. Standing by himself, Aerys watched the last embers of his son's funeral pyre slowly burn out. Now all that remained were the memories of his sweet, little boy.

"I'm very sorry for Your loss, Your Majesty."

The voice - appearing out of nowhere - startled him. It was a familiar one though. Only one person known to him had a voice with the unique mix of heartfelt warmth and cool confidence of a battle-hardened commander.

"Thank you, Major Stark," he uttered. Taking a deep breathe, the King spoke again. "I tell myself he's finally at peace; something he'd long deserved."

"A comforting thought indeed, Your Majesty. May the Old Gods and the New bless the Prince when they greet him in the Heavens."

Slowly lifting his head, the King took in the view. It was a beautiful day at Dragonstone - the sun shone on a clear blue sky with no hint of a cloud in sight. Even the sea was relatively calm. He closed his eyes and tilted his head back slightly, enjoying the feeling of the cool wind on his face. The warmth of the sun was comforting, yet he had always preferred the wind - as had his youngest son. Viserys had loved the wind to such degree that he’d named his dragon after his absolute favourite kind of cloud - Stormcloud.

The little Prince had been so proud when his egg had hatched on his bed one night. As per ancient tradition, every Targaryen was given a dragon egg at birth, and child and egg would spend the nights together from then on. Every other child in the world had a teddy bear to hug at night - a Targaryen child had a dragon egg. Viserys had been five years old at the time and it had been very unexpected for the egg to hatch so early. Rhaegar’s egg didn’t hatch until he was 12, making his dragon, Moondancer, two years younger than Stormcloud. Daenerys’ little drama queen of a dragon, Bloodfyre, had burst through his shell, hissing and growling, on the Princess’ eighth nameday.

Viserys had been so excited to wake and see a tiny dragon sitting on his chest observing him, that he had shrieked with joy - startling the little thing who replied with a hiss.

The little Prince’s squeal had caused his guard, Sir Arthur, to barge into the bedroom causing even more hissing from the dragon. Since then, Stormcloud only hissed at humans he liked - everyone else would be ignored. The two had taken their first tentative flight five years later, no other Targaryen in recent history had had a dragon from such an early age. Sadly, Viserys and Stormcloud would be separated not long after.

"When you arrived this morning, you delivered condolences to the Queen and I on behalf of the Houses Stark and Dayne, so I take it this is of a more personal nature?"

"Affirmative, Sir."

“How many times must I tell you to call me ‘Aerys’?”

“At least once more, Sir.”

The King hummed briefly in response to that, a smile tugging at his lips. “Tell me, Major, do you take personal pleasure in sneaking up on old men such as myself?"

"My apologies, Your Majesty; force of habit.” Without looking, the King could tell the Major smiled. They knew each other well. ”You know us Faceless Men - we blend in with the shadows as with the lights, Sir."

"Oh, don’t remind me!” Huffing out a laugh he continued, “barely a month goes by without a complaint from Lord Baelish about how Jaqen has been ‘sneaking around’.” He shook his head lightly. “I shouldn’t be complaining, however - it used to be a weekly matter until one day during a Council meeting Olenna had enough.”

Aerys began chuckling as he conveyed the story: “She told him that if the Lord of the Vale didn’t like getting caught by a smarter and better predator then either he should learn from it or he could go hunting elsewhere. Either way she didn’t care, but if he whined to her one more time about the Faceless Men’s representative in the Council he could go, and I quote, shit himself.” The King was laughing so hard he’d barely been able to finish his story. “You should’ve seen Petyr’s face. It was priceless!” Bent over, hands clutching his thighs the King was wheezing with laughter.

A warm, firm hand gripped his shoulder. No words were exchanged but Aerys understood the concern implied, nonetheless. So, he straightened himself back up and took in a few deep breaths of fresh air to steady himself, the Major’s hand still resting on his shoulder. Gently, he removed it and gave it a tight squeeze.

“I’m alright, Lyanna. I promise.”

Lyanna answered with her signature warm smile and a curt nod before stepping away.

“‘Lord’ Petyr Baelish.” She spit, every word coated with venom. “Whatever You do, Your Majesty, I urge You to be careful around him in every aspect.”

“I trust him about as far as I can throw him.” The King snorted, “but without proof of any wrongdoings my hands are tied. Even Jaqen hasn’t found anything.”

“As member of the Council, Colonel H’ghar’s task is to collect intelligence reports from the kingdom regions and assess security threats etc., not to investigate individual cases, Sir.”

“Correct, so do you have any suggestions, Major?”

“Perhaps You should have someone else look into it, Sir.”

“Yes…  I should definitely have someone look into it,” the King replied thoughtfully.

“Say the word and someone will.”

“Consider the word said.”

“Consider the deed done, Sir.”

The two of them exchanged a knowing look before the King circled back to the matter of Olenna Tyrell:

“Not once have the Queen and I regretted our decision to make ‘the Queen of Thorns’ our Hand. That particular day though, oh that was one of her finer moments!” Aerys chuckled. “She’s heading a Council meeting as we speak. Thankfully, she’s handled the press as well the past couple of days...” His eyes drifted back to the few remaining embers.

“—with her usual velvety gloved iron-fist, Your Majesty, making it clear that no member of the royal family would be taking part in the media’s 24/7 tributes to Prince Viserys.”

Once again, he could hear the smile in Lyanna’s voice, enjoying whatever the Hand of the Monarchs must’ve said at the press conference. It was no secret that Olenna wasn’t a fan of the media. However, she tolerated the more serious media houses who did their due diligence, researched thoroughly, and brought facts and information to the masses. They were few and far between these days though. The tabloids on the other hand...well, the old Tyrell had famously told them to ‘piss off’, so no doubt she must’ve told them something similar this time around if the Major’s reaction was anything to go by.

“That bad?”

“They’ve been running almost non-stop stories about ‘the Little Hero Prince’, Sir.”

The King snorted and glared at the scorched dirt a short distance from where he and Lyanna stood before turning on his heels, moving swiftly back towards the castle with Lyanna following suit.

“They are not wrong to call him that, but….” Aerys stopped in his tracks and turned to face Lyanna. “Do they not know how many they hurt by repeating it for days on end? Do they not know the pain they inflict again and again AND AGAIN?!”

The characteristic grey eyes of a Stark looked at him, filled with sympathy. If anyone could understand the soul-crushing pain it was to have the tragic fate of a loved one smeared on front-pages, across the news and as a constant subject of discussion by self-declared pundits on whatever tv-show they could get their sleazy asses maneuvered into, it would be one of the Stark children.

Some twenty years ago the plane carrying the Duke of Winterfell and his heir exploded somewhere North of the Wall. The news was everywhere. Constantly. In Winterfell, a horrified widow was left with three devastated children. No one would tell her anything because no one knew anything. North of the Wall was still Freefolk territory and no search & rescue teams dared to enter without Freefolk guides to protect them. Meanwhile in King’s Landing a young King was scrambling to get as much information as he possibly could. He personally flew to Winterfell to deliver the unredacted report a week later.

After the explosion, the security in the North had become unstable, and the Duchess of Winterfell had resorted to send her children to safety in the South. Ned, Lya, and later Ben, were the only non-Targaryens to have lived on Dragonstone in centuries. Aerys had come to think of them as something akin to younger siblings.

The Duke of Winterfell had been of the old school, so poor 16-year-old Eddard Stark had not been taught the ins and outs of being a Lord. To make up for that, the King’s uncle, Prince Aemon, had taken the young Lord under his wings and given him a speed course. On his 18th nameday, Eddard Stark was named Duke of Winterfell - a title he still served with honour.

The explosion had brought two major changes with it: Firstly, a peace agreement with the Freefolk; essentially bringing them into the fold of the kingdom but as a Freefolk Reservation, thereby giving them the protection from outside threats as they needed, but also securing  their sovereignty to live and abide by their own law - within their territory - as they had required. Same format would be used with the Dothraki approximately a decade later.

Secondly, a Lord, including the King, would no longer travel with spouse and/or heir together in the same vehicle, train, ship or plane. This rule was the reason why Viserys, and not Rhaegar, had been with the King in Pentos when the assassination attempt on Khal Drogo and his wife had taken place.

“They know, Aerys,” Lyanna spoke quietly, softly. For the first time that day, she let her officer mask fall and showed him the heartbroken woman underneath. “They know, they just don’t care. They’ll claim the public has a right to know and thus they consider it their duty to inform.”

Aerys snorted. “Assholes,” he muttered under his breath.

Lyanna looked at him with a lopsided smile on her face. “Even Kings are allowed to cry, you know.”

“I’ve cried more than enough, Lyanna. I’m all cried out,” he confessed quietly. “But I don’t need to be reminded of that day. I remember all too well. I was there! Eleven years later and I can still see my little boy laying there in a pool of blood.” Despite his previous statement tears began burning in his eyes again, and he choked on the words as he whispered, “how am I ever supposed to forget that?”

“You’re not.” She wrapped her soft, warm palms around his own cold, fidgeting hands. “As a King, as a father, as a human being you’re not expected to forget a traumatic event like that, Aerys. What you experienced was every parent’s nightmare.”

“The Queen and I weren’t the only ones to suffer a terrible loss that day.” His voice was thick with sorrow and unshed tears. “Sir Arthur was shot in the back and is tied to a wheelchair for the rest of his life—

“—but he lives, Aerys,” Lyanna interjected optimistically.

“—Drogo’s Khalasar lost their beloved Khaleesi. The Khal himself lost his wife and mother of his sons - one of whom was only saved by an emergency caesarean section, for fuck’s sake!”

Aerys let go of her hands as he began pacing back and forth along the edge of the cliff, highly agitated and gesturing wildly with his hands and arms as he spoke.

“That is why I can’t forgive them, Lyanna! I just can’t.”

Waving his arm in the direction of the castle he continued, “I have an 11-year-old Dothraki boy in there, who does not need reminding of how the day of his birth also marked the day of other people’s death, including his own mother.”

He was back to pacing - now seasoned with kicking random pebbles off the cliff.

“Of course, I know,” he scuffed, “being a Dothraki born in the midst of blood and mayhem is practically a badge of honour for him. As a second son to the Khal he would not normally be deemed important, but due to circumstance of his birth they all view him almost equal to his older brother, Khalakka Najaho.”

Lyanna watched the King patiently as he continued his ranting.

“His father is the leader of the largest and most powerful Khalasar seen in many, many centuries, and yet that same man instantly decided to name his infant son after Westeros’ little dragon Prince.” Aerys choked on a new wave of tears threatening to break through his carefully constructed dam. Taken several deep breaths to steady himself, he continued in a more subdued tone. “Naming Vizharo bloodrider to the Queen’s unborn child was the ultimate acknowledgement of the sacrifice Viserys made that day.”

Lyanna walked over to stand next to her old friend, looping an arm around his back and waiting to speak until she had his full attention. When he turned his head and looked at her expectantly, sadness painted in every feature on his face, she spoke:

“Aerys, you need to listen to me carefully now; no interruptions. Alright?”

“Yes, Major.” A small jesting smile played on his lips.

Lyanna responded with a slow nod before she proceeded to speak in a warm, calm and clear voice: “A ten-year-old boy throwing himself in front of a gun with no care for himself is, to the Dothraki, not only a great warrior - he’s practically a God. To them Prince Viserys died 11 years ago in Illyrio Mopatis’ villa in Pentos. His body? No, but do they believe his spirit left his body then? Yes. His funeral today was a mere formality for the Dothraki.”

Aerys slumped down in the grass as she continued speaking, keeping a steadying hand on his shoulder.

“They’d seen him racing horses against Dothraki boys outside Pentos - and win. Khal Drogo himself witnessed him climb onto Stormcloud’s back like the dragon’s some sort of docile pet. To them, Prince Viserys had already proven his worth as a warrior. Fearlessly throwing himself in front of the Khaleesi, he died the most honourable death a Dothraki warrior can hope for.”

The King looked up at her with silent tears streaming down his cheeks, eyes pleading her to continue no matter how heart-wrecking it was for him to hear.

“Amid blood, death, bullets, screams and utter mayhem, an infant Dothraki boy was brought into this world - quietly observing his surroundings with big, bright eyes. Only the most courageous souls are born in such a fashion which lead to only one conclusion for the Khal: that his son’s the reincarnation of yours. ‘Vizhadi’ means silver in Dothraki; Viserys was the little silver Prince. Vizharo is twice-named after your son, Aerys. All of Drogo’s Khalasar view him as the spirit of a Targaryen prince living in the body of a Dothraki one.”

There was no stopping the flood of tears continually streaming down the King’s flushed cheeks. The dam had burst. This was the beginning of the closure he so badly needed.

“Khal Drogo didn’t make his youngest son Daenerys’ bloodrider solely because of Viserys’ sacrifice that day; he did it because he couldn’t imagine a better protector for the Princess than her own brave brother’s spirit residing in his son’s body.”

Lyanna crouched down next to Aerys as she handed him some tissues from her jacket pocket to wipe his eyes with.

Tenderly she whispered, “Aerys, Khal Drogo believes he only gave you back what was already yours - your son.”

Muttering under his breath he put words to his realisation, “bloodrider means ‘blood of my blood’.” The King was gasping for air in between sobs, fighting to gain control of his breathing - and himself - again.

“He was so excited to meet Dany; so excited to become a big brother...,” he muttered to himself. “When Rhaella went into early labour from the shock, I…. I was sure I would lose them all. I was so scared, Lyanna!” He choked on another sob, once again taking to stare into the horizon. “But our little Dany pulled through,” he sighed with relief.

“She’s strong, Aerys. A true dragon that one.”

“Strong as valyrian steel as her mother always says; and every day I thank the Gods I don’t believe in for letting us keep her - the same Gods I curse for taking away Viserys.”

Sat on the edge of the cliffs, staring at the sea, watching Moondancer and Stormcloud fishing, and feeling the wind on his face, he felt lighter than he had for a very long time. Maybe the Dothraki were on to something? As a Targaryen, he had been raised not to believe in any gods. What use were they to dragonriders? But just because Targaryens didn’t believe in deities didn’t mean they didn’t exist. How would he know, anyway? After all he was but a mere mortal King.

The tears slowly started to subside.

“Why have you never told me this before?” His voice was hoarse from crying.

“You weren’t ready, my friend.”

“You think I was ready now?”

She smiled, “no, but you needed to hear it.”

“Always trust Lyanna Stark to speak the truth,” he chuckled. “Now help an old man back on his feet.”

“Uncle Aemon isn’t here,” she joked, jumping to her feet and running across the field.

“You cheeky little..!” Aerys stood quickly to catch up with the laughing Major. A lost cause but he would give it a go anyway.

What a sight the two of them made: Lyanna Stark - Major and head of the Faceless Men’s base in Qohor, a liaison between the Dothraki and the Crown – chased by Aerys Targaryen – King of Westeros and the Nine Cities of Essos. Both laughing and giggling like children as they ran, skipped and jumped around the grass.

-----------

Stormcloud soared high above, shadowing the eagle circling the terrain further below. Jon could feel the dragon every time he warged into the majestic bird. Just at the edge of his mind there was a surge of warmth; a gentle sort of heat similar to that radiating off a small campfire at night. But it wasn’t supposed to be there. At all. Humans and dragons were off limits for wargs, his mothers always told him so. And if he could avoid it, he’d rather not invoke the anger of neither Lyanna Stark nor Ashara Dayne. Nothing in the world was worth paying that price.

Jon had arrived at Dragonstone the day prior together with uncle Oberyn. They flew in from Starfall after having spent a few weeks with uncle Arthur. This was his second year traveling with Prince Oberyn. He had seen the beauty of the Summer Sea, met the Sealord of Braavos, and stared in awe at giants and mammoths. It was a Dornish tradition that the heirs to the ancient houses would spend a good part of their adolescence traveling the world accompanied by a close relative – or in this case, an old family friend. To the Dornish it was considered an essential part of a proper education. How could you expect someone to serve, lead, or rule if that individual didn’t know the world? The only way to know the world was to see it, hear it, taste it, smell it, feel it and meet it head on.

With a rare few exceptions here and there, all houses of any importance in Westeros and the Nine Cities sent their heirs off to boarding school or military academies.

His cousin Robb had started attendance at the prestigious Westeros International School of Education earlier this year. When you’re twelve years old and by yourself, Winterfell is a long way from King’s Landing. Jon remembered how much he still missed his mothers every now and then - and Arya! He missed his little sister every day; missed watching the little troll eating her breakfast still half asleep. In a couple of years she’d join him and Oberyn on the road. Yet, through all these new places and faces he always had uncle Oberyn to rely on. Robb and all the other kids were on their own.

He felt the pull again; like there was a rope tied around his mind and someone pulled at it from afar. Not sure what would happen if he followed the pull, he thought it best to leave the eagle.

Looking down, he saw the characteristic silver hair of Princess Daenerys, sitting next to his body on the grass, giving Ghost a belly rub.

Drawing a deep breathe he blinked his eyes open, feeling the sturdiness of the ground beneath him and the softness of grass between his fingers. He carefully sat back up, slowly taking in his surroundings.

Daenerys grinned at him. “Welcome back, ‘sleepy head’.”

“Thank you for guarding me, Your Royal Highness. It’s very kind of You.”

“Ugh!” She rolled her eyes, “how many times must I tell you to call me ‘Dany’?”

“At least once more, Princess,” Jon replied softly.

She laughed, “you Starks and your unwavering honour.”

“Stark Dayne.”

“Right, you doubled up on honour,” she chuckled while shaking her head with amusement.

Sending him a bright smile, she asked, “where were you this time?”

Jon answered, pointing an index finger up at the sky without taking his eyes off her, “flying.”

The Princess’ eyebrows shot up in surprise as she bit her lower lip and inquired, “did you like it?”

“It’s alright,” Jon spoke quietly, averting his eyes, fiddling with the grass between them. “I see now why mum’s always warned me of the dangers of warging into birds. The freedom you feel up there is incredible.”

Raising his head slightly, Jon found Dany’s face mere inches away from his own; intelligent amethyst eyes brimmed with curiosity as they stared into his own azure coloured ones.

“Why is it dangerous?” The Princess breathed out her question as if uttering the words themselves was risky.

“Because the freedom flying provides is potentially intoxicating. It can pull anyone deeper and deeper without realising. Wargs can become so caught up in the feeling that they can forget who they are; never returning to their human body again.”

Dany lunged at him, slamming his body onto the ground as she straddled his abdomen, keeping him pinned down by pressing her dainty palms on his shoulders.

“Jon,” —she hissed through clenched teeth— “don’t you ever dare go anywhere I can’t follow!” Her eyes – suddenly darkened in colour – flashed with anger…and fear. “I’ll forbid it by royal decree if I must, Lord Dayne!”

“Never,” he whispered breathlessly. “I’d never leave you behind, Dany.”

She frowned at him. “You promise?”

“You have my word.”

She continued glaring at him, so, with a smirk playing on his face, Jon clarified teasingly, “doubled up on honour, remember?”

Next thing he knew Dany’s mouth was on his. So soft, so sweet, and so surprising he didn’t have time to understand what was happening before it was over. Gone too soon.

Completely dumbfounded, he just laid there on the grass, paralysed, blinking up at the Princess. She, in turn, was staring down at him wide eyed, nervously nipping at her lower lip, a worried crease between her eyebrows. He could feel her small hands clutching the fabric of his shirt as she balled up her fists. That spurred him into action.

He shook his head slightly and took a deep breath – as deep as he could with the Princess sitting across his stomach. He gently unclutched her fists as he flashed her a confident smile and said, “mind if we try that again?”

Dany jerked forward but two hands pressed against her shoulders stopped her. Once again her beautiful amethyst eyes flashed with anger, hurt and confusion.

Moving his hands from her shoulders to carefully cradle her face, Jon looked deep into her eyes as he whispered, “easy Dany, I just told you I’m not going anywhere.”

Responding with a shy smile and a barely noticeable nod, Dany lowered her eyes to look at his lips as she slowly leaned down.

He lifted his head slightly off the ground and met her half way, tenderly pressing his lips against hers. This time Dany’s delectable lips felt even softer, sweeter than they had with that first rushed kiss. He wanted to – needed to – do this right.

Slowly, he opened his mouth slightly and timidly let his tongue run along Dany’s upper lip. He figured he must’ve done something right, because she responded by grasping his shirt collar and pulling him closer.

When Dany finally pulled back, they both gasped, staring at each other in awe. Jon had never seen a sweeter, more beautiful smile than the one she was wearing just then. Her heavenly eyes shone brighter than any star ever could, he was sure of it.

Breathless, Jon said “that was—"

“—wonderful,” Dany finished for him.

Smiling softly he could only respond by nodding. Blinking rapidly a few times, he muttered, “I have this…weak feeling in my knees.”

“Is your heart beating strangely?”

“Mmhmm…faster, like I’ve been running.”

“Mine too,” she whispered brushing a tender hand through his dark curls. “Think we should just stay here for a bit.”

Dany positioned herself a little lower on his stomach as she leaned down to rest her dazed head on Jon’s narrow shoulder, placing a possessive hand over his rapidly beating heart.

Carefully, Jon wrapped his arms around her.

Uncle Oberyn always told him that love was like dancing – relax, go with the flow and you’ll find a rhythm that matches the two of you together. Jon wasn’t sure this could be compared to any kind of dancing he’d done, but if their matching heartbeats were any indication he’d say he and Dany had found their own unique rhythm. Gradually, he felt her breathing slow down as did his own.

“I like it here.” Dany’s quiet voice broke his musings.

He chuckled, “good, it’s your home after all.”

“No, I mean,” she raised her head slightly and padded his shoulder with her hand, “I like it here,” before resting her head back down.

“I like you here as well,” Jon confessed quietly resting a cheek against the top of her head.

Their peaceful little bubble was sadly burst when Ghost came running, joyously yapping at a hissing Bloodfyre who was flying just a few feet above the direwolf pup.

Dany shot up like a rocket. “Bloodfyre stop it! Behave!” The black and red dragon hissed and growled in response, yet still landed next to the silver-haired girl currently glaring at it.

Jon was amazed at how quickly the Princess transformed from the soft and tender girl he’d just had in his arms a few seconds ago, to this assertive dragon commander standing in front of him.

“Ghost, here!” The pup, a little more than a year old, obeyed his command without hesitation. “Maybe if he gets his tail zinged he’ll learn not to disturb a dragon,” Jon laughed, scratching the snow white direwolf behind its ear as he got back up on his feet.

Sitting next to her, Bloodfyre was exactly as tall as Dany. He was almost pitch-black with crimson red horns and spine, and spatters of red on his wings. At three, he was the youngest of the dragons currently residing on Dragonstone. The other dragons lived in and around Valyria where there was food and space available to them without the majestic creatures causing too much disturbance. However, despite being the younger – or perhaps because of it – Bloodfyre was the biggest drama queen; always making a big entrance hissing, screaming and growling, and spitting fire whenever he could get away with it. No hint of stealth – yet. He still curled up in Dany’s bed at night, but it’d be a matter of time before he’d have to stay on the floor, and in a few years he’d have to stay outside permanently.

She sent Jon an amused look before turning to Bloodfyre and speaking with more authority than he’d ever heard from her, “—and this guy needs to stop spitting fire at everyone and everything that he doesn’t like!”

Bloodfyre huffed and looked away – almost as if trying to give the impression that he wasn’t even paying attention. Jon knew from his mum’s stories from her years at Dragonstone, that dragons had very different personalities, just like humans, however, he never thought he’d find it this comical to see up close.

He bent down, picked up a stick and threw it as far as he could as Ghost was off in a jiffy to chase the stick - tail wagging and tongue hanging out the side of his mouth, but completely silent. Stealth.

Once again, Jon felt the humming, burning sensation in his mind. Stormcloud had been cruising the skies above them the whole time.

For a bit, he’d thought – and hoped – the buzzing in his head was from being close to Dany, but now he was almost certain it was exclusively due to the big dragon hovering above.

The few times Jon had been to Dragonstone before he’d of course seen Stormcloud around the island, admiring him from afar. He was a mighty and gorgeous beast; even looked like a storm cloud – blue coloured back, gradually turning a dark grey towards the dragon’s underside and wings. Jon had never been close to him though, and he’d never felt this observed and scrutinised either. He didn’t like the feeling.

It started after he had warged into Ghost this morning. Yesterday he’d spent the day making friends with the eagle, Storm – the great bird had told Jon he liked riding them so that’s what Jon had named him. In his sleep, he must’ve slipped into Ghost because in the early morning hours he’d been out by the dragons’ nests. He remembered the smell of burnt flesh and charred bones; definitely not a pleasant one. Moondancer hadn’t paid any attention to Ghost, but Stormcloud…he’d looked right at him. It had spooked both Jon and Ghost and the pup had quickly run back to the castle. When Jon woke the direwolf slept by his feet.

Having sent Bloodfyre off, Dany walked over to Jon again. Taking a step closer, she took one of his hands and sandwiched it between both of her smaller ones.

“Major Stark, Prince Oberyn, Mama and Papa talked to me yesterday, when you were out here by yourself.”

Jon watched her stare at their hands, patiently waiting for her to continue.

“They asked me if I’d like to come travel with you and uncle Obi before I start attending school in King’s Landing next year.” She threw him a nervous glance before quickly adding, “just for a bit.”

He placed his other hand on top of hers and gave her a gentle squeeze.

“But..,” she sighed, “I wouldn’t be joining alone,” she added apologetically.

Jon leaned in and laid a tender kiss on her forehead before pulling her in for a hug. “Will Vizharo and Sir Jaime be joining us then?”

He could feel her nodding.

“Major Stark mentioned something about sending her second in command to join us in Pentos.” Her voice was muffled by his arm.

Trying to contain his excitement, Jon took a steadying breath before asking, “We’re going back to Essos?”

“Oberyn mentioned something about Meereen.”

“Have you ever been before?”

Dany shook her head slowly.

“I’m sure you’ll love it! You’ll love Captain Tarth as well – she’s great.” He laughed, “—and then you won’t have to be all alone with us guys.”

She laughed out loud, “that would’ve been awful!”

Before Jon could respond, there was a thunderous noise just above them as the ground started quaking. Looking behind him, he saw Stormcloud towering over them, eyes fixed squarely on him.

The enormous dragon tipped its head slightly from side to side and Jon knew he was being sized up – he just didn’t know what for or the reason behind it.

The buzzing in his head returned. It was as if he’d stuck his head inside a beehive. The heat was back too, making him feel like his head was burning from the inside out.

Letting go of Dany, he fell to his knees, clutching his head in his hands. “Argh!”

“Jon!” Dany shouted, worried. “HELP! SOMEBODY, HELP!” She yelled desperately, looking around.

Instantly, Vizharo came running full speed from behind a small hill. “Princess! What’s the matter?!”

“Find Major Stark. NOW!! And uncle Aemon!”

Vizharo was off immediately, bolting across the field to where Viserys’ funeral pyre had been.

Jon had now collapsed on the ground, writhing and screaming in pain with Dany helpless by his side.

As Jon opened his eyes, he saw a huge eye, blue as his own, looking directly at him. He thought he saw pain in it but maybe that had to do with the pain he was feeling himself – head to toe, inside out, like chains and ropes burning, tightening and pulling everywhere on his body and mind.

Stormcloud’s massive head was inching closer, examining the little screaming human.

And, as he blacked out from the pain, the dragon soared to the skies screeching and roaring in anguish and frustration – for the second time that day.

[ill-be-istj-if-no-one-else-is]

1. I am an INTP 5w6 female and I want to know how to meet new people, it didn't bother me before but I had a boyfriend.of 1.5years and I now miss having someone in my life, don't remember exactly what I wrote but I thought I had made a good choice and was really hopeful about that relationship and I tried hard to make it work but I couldn't deal with his bs anymore, I did for a while cause I thought he was worth it, I've been trying to build deeper relationships but didn't care before so imbehnd

2. My ex wasn't extremely manipulative but he lied and hid things from me and got angry when I complained when his stories made no sense, I left We knew each other for so long and I couldn't deal with him not apologizing for his bs and blaming me for what he was doing, I just couldn't justify the relationship even if I still loved him This lead me to believe my strategy was wrong since I thought I knew him and that he was more mature than that, no matter how high the filter this could happen..

3. It's just so disappointing, you know? That people can be such assholes after managing to present themselves as the opposite of that for so long I've never really had close friendships except for my ex, and a few friends (I guess?) I didn't care much for this before since I'm alright on my own, but I found that I really liked having someone, so I'm trying to meet new people now that I'm more or less healing, but idk how to do it, acquaintances used to fall in my lap before but not anymore

4. I'm 23 yo, about to get my degree. I do have a crush on a classmate but when I try to picture us going out it feels awkward and weird since I don't know him very well, I need to know people well before considering dating... I'm just very lost and I feel kind of behind from everyone else since I'm super inexperienced (only that one bf, and it was long distance...) and idk how to correct that at this point. I've been dressing better so people treat me better (haven't noticed, makes sense tho)

5. People do seem to like me well enough but I guess everyone already has their group of friends and is too busy to invite me places often enough that I become part of the core group, but I'm getting there, a bit (I think) I've been going everywhere I've been invited with my classmates lately but they don't really bring anyone new, I've managed to be a step up from acquaintance with a girl friend, which is nice, with older friends the same thing happens, even if we come across their friends...

6. I've always had a hard time fitting in very well, romantically I'd love to have someone at a similar experience level because I feel like I missed out on being a crucial relationship for the other person, but my ex had several gfs before and I didn't care too much then but now I do because afterwards certain things made me feel bad, but I guess I could manage anyway.I also get paranoid when I read what other bs some people manage to do like marrying someone but loving their bestfriend instead

7. I apologize for making it so long but I thought it'd be necessary to give a bit of info on myself and my thoughts, my age, what I've been trying etc I just wanna meet good people at this point in my life and want some tips on how to do that without taking extremely long only for them to be assholes anyways... I think I've managed to make some more acquaintances but I've only clicked with two girls I talk to outside of the classroom when we're not hanging out, gonna focus on them rn-----------------------

(very long response ahead)

I know this is not what you asked nor is it necessarily going to be helpful or relevant but: I would strongly rethink your type. Ti-doms and 5s are both vanishingly unlikely to drop seven asks worth of highly personal and emotionally open information in the inboxes of total strangers.

With regards to the actual question, this is really not an MBTI question (more on this at the end) and not entirely something I’d consider myself an expert on. I very much hope I am not the only person you can go to on this because I personally wouldn’t want me to be my only source of advice on this. With those caveats, see below.

I think Tumblr (and to be fair some forms of media) portray friendships and relationships as an attraction at first sight/immediate connection.

This is fucking stupid.

Because I tie everything back to my personal soapbox causes: this is why I have such disdain for the anti-small talk crowd, or people who think they’re special because they crave a deep, below-the-surface human connection. Nearly everyone wants deep connection. It’s normal and healthy. It’s also an ongoing process that nearly always involves some period of time during which you and the other potential friend are awkward acquaintances who don’t entirely understand each other and have to talk about surface-level things. You can’t speedrun intimacy.

This is particularly true in adulthood. Children do make friends more quickly, but also children are weird and fickle and a friendship can be based on little more than sharing crayons (not to knock that, plenty of great friendships started that way) while adults have a much better sense of who they are and also typically a much more narrow definition of who they want as a friend and all kinds of emotional baggage to boot.

Essentially, if you want a friendship that matches the depth of a relationship of 1.5 years it’s probably going to take close to 1.5 years to get there, and from what you said you’d known each other even longer before the romantic relationship, so add that time too. Which might not be what you want to hear, but it’s important to manage the expectation. Basically all relationships (and by this I mean romantic or platonic) start out with little connection, and you become friends through building that connection, and you can’t really rush it.

I believe in “clicking” in the sense of there being an immediate mutual interest in getting to know each other better, but speaking practically, regardless of the initial chemistry you are still basically intrigued strangers at that point. All clicking does is provide additional motivation for that process of getting to know each other. And speaking from experience, deep friendships in the long term don’t always have an initial “click”. I’ve had relationships that were initially quite intense fade away, and others slowly grow from acquaintanceship into lasting intimate friendship even if we didn’t expect it on first meeting. The myth of clicking is confirmation bias - unless there was a serious fallout, you’ll probably forget the people who you thought you clicked with if it didn’t just work out, and conversely it’s not hard to look back through the lenses of memory and nostalgia and find a single moment when a friendship or love crystalized, even though the reality is that it was merely the tipping point after considerable energy had already been invested on both sides.

In terms of practical advice, finishing up a degree is a uniquely awkward time, especially if all your classmates are in the same boat, because there’s often a mentality of “we’re all going to leave soon, let’s stick with the friendships we have.” Others in your class may not have that motivation to make a close connection, and it sucks but it’s temporary. The good news is that the larger world doesn’t feel that way. It is a bit more difficult to make friends as an adult, just because you’re not spending time with people naturally the same way as you do in school, but meetups and clubs and social organizations all exist for this reason and are explicitly there for people who want to make friends. And again, it’s going to be a slow process. I respect that it’s frustrating having to start from what feels like square one, but it’s unavoidable.

As for dating, you don’t need to do apps if you don’t want to! But you’re right. It’s going to be comparatively inefficient. Particularly if you prefer to date people you already know socially, you’ll have to put in a lot of effort going to social things and building those acquaintanceships over time and you might need to ask someone out face to face. Inexperience is fine. Everyone has to start somewhere. The tradeoff is more that you can’t screen people as well if you’re on apps, and they can be kind of impersonal but you do get to interact with many people quickly on your own terms without having to go outside and with the luxury of being able to think up witty comebacks instead of having to chat in real time.

(I do want to counter the idea that people who use apps are any less deep or anything like that. Some people are comfortable with casual hookups and some aren’t, but many people use apps to set up a date first and see if they have enough of an interest to keep things going. As with all of the above, everything has to start somewhere and if you think of the app as a way to facilitate meeting people, rather than “I must make a romantic connection with this person tonight”, and steer towards dating vs. hookup apps/make it clear you’re looking for long-term relationships, you might have more luck. The point of the first date for most people isn’t to find a partner, though sometimes that happens; it’s to find someone you enjoy enough to go on a second date with and slowly get to know).

One final thought: all this advice applies universally but I actually think considering it in the context of MBTI is more harmful than helpful, or at best misleading. For example, you say that being a 5 you take too long to check if people are safe, which whether or not you actually are a 5 also has absolutely nothing to do with being a 5, and even if you are a 5 and this is a 5 thing, you’re aware of this behavior! You can stop doing that then! MBTI is not destiny!

Regardless of type, no one automatically knows what to say in every situation, no one can read minds, and no one has discovered the secret to always being liked and never being rejected. Type can convey talent or inclination but skill requires time. Extroverts are often better with people because they have to be - they aren’t as okay with just being alone, especially when younger, so they go out and deal with people and through that process learn to make friends. But they weren’t born with it. Sites that favor introverts and/or intuitives are terrible for a lot of reasons but I find they perpetuate the ideas I disagreed with above, that friendships for introverts and intuitives must always be with people who Click and Already Get It. This is wrong and it’s limiting. Obviously don’t pursue a friendship or relationship if you don’t like the person, but don’t write someone off just because you didn’t feel a magical spark right away. That’s not being deep and sensitive - that’s being closed off to new experiences. Anything worth doing involves real-world effort and some amount of risk, and usually it involves patience and time and awkwardness and uncertainty as well.

[draculalive]

Jonathan Harker's Journal

1 October, 5 a.m. -- I went with the party to the search with an easy mind, for I think I never saw Mina so absolutely strong and well. I am so glad that she consented to hold back and let us men do the work. Somehow, it was a dread to me that she was in this fearful business at all; but now that her work is done, and that it is due to her energy and brains and foresight that the whole story is put together in such a way that every point tells, she may well feel that her part is finished, and that she can henceforth leave the rest to us. We were, I think, all a little upset by the scene with Mr. Renfield. When we came away from his room we were silent till we got back to the study. Then Mr. Morris said to Dr. Seward:---

"Say, Jack, if that man wasn't attempting a bluff, he is about the sanest lunatic I ever saw. I'm not sure, but I believe that he had some serious purpose, and if he had, it was pretty rough on him not to get a chance." Lord Godalming and I were silent, but Dr. Van Helsing added:---

"Friend John, you know more of lunatics than I do, and I'm glad of it, for I fear that if it had been to me to decide I would before that last hysterical outburst have given him free. But we live and learn, and in our present task we must take no chance, as my friend Quincey would say. All is best as they are." Dr. Seward seemed to answer them both in a dreamy kind of way:---

"I don't know but that I agree with you. If that man had been an ordinary lunatic I would have taken my chance of trusting him; but he seems so mixed up with the Count in an indexy kind of way that I am afraid of doing anything wrong by helping his fads. I can't forget how he prayed with almost equal fervour for a cat, and then tried to tear my throat out with his teeth. Besides, he called the Count 'lord and master,' and he may want to get out to help him in some diabolical way. That horrid thing has the wolves and the rats and his own kind to help him, so I suppose he isn't above trying to use a respectable lunatic. He certainly did seem earnest, though. I only hope we have done what is best. These things, in conjunction with the wild work we have in hand, help to unnerve a man." The Professor stepped over, and laying his hand on his shoulder, said in his grave, kindly way:---

"Friend John, have no fear. We are trying to do our duty in a very sad and terrible case; we can only do as we deem best. What else have we to hope for, except the pity of the good God?" Lord Godalming had slipped away for a few minutes, but now he returned. He held up a little silver whistle, as he remarked:---

"That old place may be full of rats, and if so, I've got an antidote on call." Having passed the wall, we took our way to the house, taking care to keep in the shadows of the trees on the lawn when the moonlight shone out. When we got to the porch the Professor opened his bag and took out a lot of things, which he laid on the step, sorting them into four little groups, evidently one for each. Then he spoke:---

"My friends, we are going into a terrible danger, and we need arms of many kinds. Our enemy is not merely spiritual. Remember that he has the strength of twenty men, and that, though our necks or our windpipes are of the common kind -- and therefore breakable or crushable -- his are not amenable to mere strength. A stronger man, or a body of men more strong in all than him, can at certain times hold him; but they cannot hurt him as we can be hurt by him. We must, therefore, guard ourselves from his touch. Keep this near your heart" -- as he spoke he lifted a little silver crucifix and held it out to me, I being nearest to him -- "put these flowers round your neck" -- here he handed to me a wreath of withered garlic blossoms -- "for other enemies more mundane, this revolver and this knife; and for aid in all, these so small electric lamps, which you can fasten to your breast; and for all, and above all at the last, this, which we must not desecrate needless." This was a portion of Sacred Wafer, which he put in an envelope and handed to me. Each of the others was similarly equipped. "Now," he said, "friend John, where are the skeleton keys? If so that we can open the door, we need not break house by the window, as before at Miss Lucy's."

Dr. Seward tried one or two skeleton keys, his mechanical dexterity as a surgeon standing him in good stead. Presently he got one to suit; after a little play back and forward the bolt yielded, and, with a rusty clang, shot back. We pressed on the door, the rusty hinges creaked, and it slowly opened. It was startlingly like the image conveyed to me in Dr. Seward's diary of the opening of Miss Westenra's tomb; I fancy that the same idea seemed to strike the others, for with one accord they shrank back. The Professor was the first to move forward, and stepped into the open door.

"In manus tuas, Domine!" he said, crossing himself as he passed over the threshold. We closed the door behind us, lest when we should have lit our lamps we should possibly attract attention from the road. The Professor carefully tried the lock, lest we might not be able to open it from within should we be in a hurry making our exit. Then we all lit our lamps and proceeded on our search.

The light from the tiny lamps fell in all sorts of odd forms, as the rays crossed each other, or the opacity of our bodies threw great shadows. I could not for my life get away from the feeling that there was some one else amongst us. I suppose it was the recollection, so powerfully brought home to me by the grim surroundings, of that terrible experience in Transylvania. I think the feeling was common to us all, for I noticed that the others kept looking over their shoulders at every sound and every new shadow, just as I felt myself doing.

The whole place was thick with dust. The floor was seemingly inches deep, except where there were recent footsteps, in which on holding down my lamp I could see marks of hobnails where the dust was cracked. The walls were fluffy and heavy with dust, and in the corners were masses of spider's webs, whereon the dust had gathered till they looked like old tattered rags as the weight had torn them partly down. On a table in the hall was a great bunch of keys, with a time-yellowed label on each. They had been used several times, for on the table were several similar rents in the blanket of dust, similar to that exposed when the Professor lifted them. He turned to me and said:---

"You know this place, Jonathan. You have copied maps of it, and you know it at least more than we do. Which is the way to the chapel?" I had an idea of its direction, though on my former visit I had not been able to get admission to it; so I led the way, and after a few wrong turnings found myself opposite a low, arched oaken door, ribbed with iron bands. "This is the spot," said the Professor as he turned his lamp on a small map of the house, copied from the file of my original correspondence regarding the purchase. With a little trouble we found the key on the bunch and opened the door. We were prepared for some unpleasantness, for as we were opening the door a faint, malodorous air seemed to exhale through the gaps, but none of us ever expected such an odour as we encountered. None of the others had met the Count at all at close quarters, and when I had seen him he was either in the fasting stage of his existence in his rooms or, when he was gloated with fresh blood, in a ruined building open to the air; but here the place was small and close, and the long disuse had made the air stagnant and foul. There was an earthy smell, as of some dry miasma, which came through the fouler air. But as to the odour itself, how shall I describe it? It was not alone that it was composed of all the ills of mortality and with the pungent, acrid smell of blood, but it seemed as though corruption had become itself corrupt. Faugh! it sickens me to think of it. Every breath exhaled by that monster seemed to have clung to the place and intensified its loathsomeness.

Under ordinary circumstances such a stench would have brought our enterprise to an end; but this was no ordinary case, and the high and terrible purpose in which we were involved gave us a strength which rose above merely physical considerations. After the involuntary shrinking consequent on the first nauseous whiff, we one and all set about our work as though that loathsome place were a garden of roses.

We made an accurate examination of the place, the Professor saying as we began:---

"The first thing is to see how many of the boxes are left; we must then examine every hole and corner and cranny and see if we cannot get some clue as to what has become of the rest." A glance was sufficient to show how many remained, for the great earth chests were bulky, and there was no mistaking them.

There were only twenty-nine left out of the fifty! Once I got a fright, for, seeing Lord Godalming suddenly turn and look out of the vaulted door into the dark passage beyond, I looked too, and for an instant my heart stood still. Somewhere, looking out from the shadow, I seemed to see the high lights of the Count's evil face, the ridge of the nose, the red eyes, the red lips, the awful pallor. It was only for a moment, for, as Lord Godalming said, "I thought I saw a face, but it was only the shadows," and resumed his inquiry, I turned my lamp in the direction, and stepped into the passage. There was no sign of any one; and as there were no corners, no doors, no aperture of any kind, but only the solid walls of the passage, there could be no hiding-place even for him. I took it that fear had helped imagination, and said nothing.

A few minutes later I saw Morris step suddenly back from a corner, which he was examining. We all followed his movements with our eyes, for undoubtedly some nervousness was growing on us, and we saw a whole mass of phosphorescence, which twinkled like stars. We all instinctively drew back. The whole place was becoming alive with rats.

For a moment or two we stood appalled, all save Lord Godalming, who was seemingly prepared for such an emergency. Rushing over to the great iron-bound oaken door, which Dr. Seward had described from the outside, and which I had seen myself, he turned the key in the lock, drew the huge bolts, and swung the door open. Then, taking his little silver whistle from his pocket, he blew a low, shrill call. It was answered from behind Dr. Seward's house by the yelping of dogs, and after about a minute three terriers came dashing round the corner of the house. Unconsciously we had all moved towards the door, and as we moved I noticed that the dust had been much disturbed: the boxes which had been taken out had been brought this way. But even in the minute that had elapsed the number of the rats had vastly increased. They seemed to swarm over the place all at once, till the lamplight, shining on their moving dark bodies and glittering, baleful eyes, made the place look like a bank of earth set with fireflies. The dogs dashed on, but at the threshold suddenly stopped and snarled, and then, simultaneously lifting their noses, began to howl in most lugubrious fashion. The rats were multiplying in thousands, and we moved out.

Lord Godalming lifted one of the dogs, and carrying him in, placed him on the floor. The instant his feet touched the ground he seemed to recover his courage, and rushed at his natural enemies. They fled before him so fast that before he had shaken the life out of a score, the other dogs, who had by now been lifted in the same manner, had but small prey ere the whole mass had vanished.

With their going it seemed as if some evil presence had departed, for the dogs frisked about and barked merrily as they made sudden darts at their prostrate foes, and turned them over and over and tossed them in the air with vicious shakes. We all seemed to find our spirits rise. Whether it was the purifying of the deadly atmosphere by the opening of the chapel door, or the relief which we experienced by finding ourselves in the open I know not; but most certainly the shadow of dread seemed to slip from us like a robe, and the occasion of our coming lost something of its grim significance, though we did not slacken a whit in our resolution. We closed the outer door and barred and locked it, and bringing the dogs with us, began our search of the house. We found nothing throughout except dust in extraordinary proportions, and all untouched save for my own footsteps when I had made my first visit. Never once did the dogs exhibit any symptom of uneasiness, and even when we returned to the chapel they frisked about as though they had been rabbit-hunting in a summer wood.

The morning was quickening in the east when we emerged from the front. Dr. Van Helsing had taken the key of the hall-door from the bunch, and locked the door in orthodox fashion, putting the key into his pocket when he had done.

"So far," he said, "our night has been eminently successful. No harm has come to us such as I feared might be and yet we have ascertained how many boxes are missing. More than all do I rejoice that this, our first -- and perhaps our most difficult and dangerous -- step has been accomplished without the bringing thereinto our most sweet Madam Mina or troubling her waking or sleeping thoughts with sights and sounds and smells of horror which she might never forget. One lesson, too, we have learned, if it be allowable to argue a particulari: that the brute beasts which are to the Count's command are yet themselves not amenable to his spiritual power; for look, these rats that would come to his call, just as from his castle top he summon the wolves to your going and to that poor mother's cry, though they come to him, they run pell-mell from the so little dogs of my friend Arthur. We have other matters before us, other dangers, other fears; and that monster -- he has not used his power over the brute world for the only or the last time to-night. So be it that he has gone elsewhere. Good! It has given us opportunity to cry ‘check' in some ways in this chess game, which we play for the stake of human souls. And now let us go home. The dawn is close at hand, and we have reason to be content with our first night's work. It may be ordained that we have many nights and days to follow, if full of peril; but we must go on, and from no danger shall we shrink."

The house was silent when we got back, save for some poor creature who was screaming away in one of the distant wards, and a low, moaning sound from Renfield's room. The poor wretch was doubtless torturing himself, after the manner of the insane, with needless thoughts of pain.

I came tiptoe into our own room, and found Mina asleep, breathing so softly that I had to put my ear down to hear it. She looks paler than usual. I hope the meeting to-night has not upset her. I am truly thankful that she is to be left out of our future work, and even of our deliberations. It is too great a strain for a woman to bear. I did not think so at first, but I know better now. Therefore I am glad that it is settled. There may be things which would frighten her to hear; and yet to conceal them from her might be worse than to tell her if once she suspected that there was any concealment. Henceforth our work is to be a sealed book to her, till at least such time as we can tell her that all is finished, and the earth free from a monster of the nether world. I daresay it will be difficult to begin to keep silence after such confidence as ours; but I must be resolute, and to-morrow I shall keep dark over to-night's doings, and shall refuse to speak of anything that has happened. I rest on the sofa, so as not to disturb her.

[hairringtonsteve]

spoiler alert.

(joe keery x reader)

request: oh oh oh! Joe Keery meets Y/N when being interviewed and she's like the camera woman or something and he invites her out on the town with the rest of the older cast and it's drinks and love, you know! And Y/N ends up at Joe's hotel room

summary: of course you and joe would bond over something as dumb as spoiling movies and tv shows you’ve (mostly) already seen to each other. weirdly enough, it also kind of is a massive turn on for joe. huh.

word count: 4, 532

a/n: so there are a lot of spoilers in here, but none for stranger things (go figure). but here are the movies and shows that are: star wars episode v, star wars episode vii, fight club, the handmaid’s tale, game of thrones, the sixth sense, 30 rock, harry potter and the halfblood prince. 

At least once a month, you post a picture of you wearing an all black outfit on Instagram with the caption let’s play a game called production blacks or emo (or a variation of that incredibly worn out joke). When you’re filming a live event, it’s all black, even down to your shoes. You can’t count the number of times that you’ve thrown on black sneakers, only to notice that they’ve got a white stripe down the sides. Which means running around the venue, trying to find some black duct tape or a black Sharpie to color it in.

In your college classes, you can remember multiple professors drilling it into your brain - people behind the camera should be invisible, to blend in with the background so everyone forgets that you’re there. On sets with scripted content, it’s a different story. But for anything else, you’ve got to be background noise. And you’re fine with that. There’s a kind of comfort that comes with being able to just settle into the background and watch the action go on around you.

Which is why it’s so unnerving when he noticed you.

It’s not that actors haven’t talked to you before, it’s just that there’s some kind of unspoken code with most of them. They’re polite, but distant. You’re just running the camera, a person that’s meant to be glanced at but not really looked at. It’s not a rude thing, it’s just how it is.

You’d just gotten off a string of interviews with the cast of a huge blockbuster that was coming out (not to brag, but you did get to meet most of the actors in the new Captain America movie), and you’d gotten used to a quick handshake and a brief hi, how are you? before they move on to the person who’s running the whole thing. It had been a long day, adjusting the camera settings and staving off boredom as you listened to Matt ask similar-sounding questions over and over and over. By some miracle, there was actually a couple of hours in between interviews, but that was mostly due having to switch from the Captain America backdrop to something simple for whatever new Netflix cast was up next. You were fiddling with the camera settings, killing time as you waited around for the girl who was running the lights to finish up.

“Yeah, you’re going to have to adjust that fill light, I guarantee it,” you said, grinning as she shot you a scowl.

“I think I know what I’m doing, Y/N.”

“I’m just saying, I’m pretty sure that this dude is taller than you think. It doesn’t look like it’s going to be high enough.” She shot you another glare, making you laugh at the sight of it. The two of you had worked on enough stuff together, and you knew the exact buttons to push to annoy her, and vice versa.

“You working that event tonight at the Bowl?”  

“Does it look like I’m working the event tonight?” You ask, motioning to your outfit, which was most definitely not production blacks. “The only thing that I’m doing tonight is getting caught up on Game of Thrones and eating leftover pizza.”

“Uh, excuse me, I was told to come in here for a lighting test?” You turned around at the voice, plastering on a quick smile for the actor.

“Right, uh-” You hesitated, glancing down at the chair next to you, littered with papers that Matt had printed off for the interview. You scanned the words for a second before settling on his name. “Joe, right? Just take a seat there. Cassie will finish up with the lighting in a second.”  

It was really hard for you to keep the smug smirk off your face as Joe sat down, the fill light hitting his face a weird way on camera. You waited until he was looking down at his phone to do it, the corners of your lips tugging upwards just enough to convey your message to Cassie.

I fucking told you so.

“So, you watch Game of Thrones?”  You looked from Cassie to the man in front of you, your eyebrows raising in question.

“Huh?”

“You were talking about Game of Thrones when I came in. You watch it?” The confusion was written on your face as you rested your hand against the tripod, fingers tapping against the cool metal.

“Yeah, I do,” you said. The words were coming out slow, your brain more concerned with trying to wrap your mind around his little grin than with understanding his exact words.

“What season are you in?”

“I just finished up the first season.” His eyes widened, mouth opening and you knew exactly what was coming. “I know I’m behind, okay? I get shit for it all the time.”

“How much has been ruined for you?”

“I honestly try not to think about it. Spoilers piss me off. I accidentally found out that Dumbledore died before I finished reading the book, and I ended up crying on the bus. It was terrible.”

“Dude, Dumbledore dies?”

For a second, your heart stopped pounding. A sick feeling settled into your gut. Oh God, you just ruined one of the biggest spoilers in history to this guy. But then his look of dismay turned into that little grin, and you scowled.

“That was low, man.”

“It’s not as low as Kylo Ren running a lightsaber through Han Solo’s chest.” You tried to act annoyed, but it was in vain since you literally could not stop grinning at him. “I assume you knew about that one, then?”

“Yeah. Pretty sure everyone knows about that one by now.”

“That’s true. But did you know that in -”

“Hey, man! Sorry I’m late,” Matt butted in, causing a brief flicker of annoyance to rise up in your chest. You caught Joe giving you a look before he shifted his attention towards Matt, sliding right into professionalism.

“So, he’s cute,” Cassie muttered behind you, making you jump. You blinked at her, a little surprised that she’d somehow managed to fix the fill light and walk behind you, all without you noticing.

“Oh, uh, yeah. Sure,” you shrugged.

A lot of actors were cute. It was no big deal.

“So you do know that Darth Vader is Luke’s father, right?”

You didn’t even have to turn around from your camera to know who it was.

Spoilers had become a sort of thing between the two of you. You were a freelancer, so a decent amount of media sites hired you to film their stuff. And at some point, Joe’s little, weird, niche sci-fi show thing (his description) had blown up. Which translated into more interviews, but more importantly, more spoilers. Somewhere along the way it had turned into this inside joke between you both.

“Bruce Willis was dead the whole time.” You turned around just in time to see his face as you said it, the corners of his mouth curving into an even wider grin as he ducked his head. He pressed his lips together like he was trying to rein it in.

Belatedly, you realized you were staring at his mouth.

“So you have any plans tonight?” You - reluctantly - dragged your gaze to his eyes, ignoring the little smirk that was planted firmly on his face.

“Nothing but eating an entire jar of Nutella and finishing up Jessica Jones.”

“My God, you are so far behind on TV. Have you even started Breaking Bad?”

“Uh, yeah. Walter White was dead the whole time.”

“Holy shit, do I need to make you a list of shows you need to watch?”

“Probably, yeah.”

There was a pause in the conversation as he looked at you, his smirk fading the longer he didn’t respond. Was he really that upset with your lack of TV watching?

“I could make you that list tonight. Over drinks?”

Oh.

Oh.

“Over drinks?” Internally, you swore at yourself for the way your voice wavered over those two simple syllables.

“Yeah, over drinks. You know, the thing where you go out and drink? With other people?” It was like magic, the way his smirk just appeared once more. “Me, and Dacre and Charlie and Nat are all heading out for drinks. I mean, Natalia can’t drink because she’s underage, but she’ll still hang out.” His smirk started to fade the longer you kept quiet. “So there’s no pressure for you to drink, but uh, I thought I’d just ask because, you know, we’ve known each other for like a year now and I just… You can stop me whenever you like because it’s going to get a lot worse and I’m honestly rambling right now…” he trailed off, offering you a helpless look.

“I’m down with drinks. I kind of just wanted to see where you were going to end up.”

“It would’ve ended up with me crying from embarrassment.”

“Way to ruin the ending for me, asshole.”

“It could’ve been worse. I could’ve told you that Tyler Durden isn’t real and is actually a product of the narrator’s split personality.”

“.... Yeah, I actually haven’t seen that one. It’s Fight Club, right?”

“Oh, fuck.”

It felt like the two of you had passed through, like, twelve friendship stages since you’d seen him earlier that day. Before, all you’d known about him was that he was funny and nice, he was an actor, and his name was Joe. All he’d known about you was that you were funny and nice, you were a camera operator, and that your name was Y/N.

But suddenly, you were getting drinks. And exchanging phone numbers. And texting. And possibly flirting (but according to Cassie and just about anyone that had seen the two of you together, you’d been flirting with each other since you’d first met).

Joe: Here. Everyone else is already inside

You: Pulling up now 👍

Your heart was currently located somewhere within your throat as the Lyft driver pulled up to the curb. It wasn’t hard to find Joe, who was leaning against the building, eyes shifting from left to right before settling on your car. He smiled, soft and small, before straightening up and heading towards the car.

“Thank you!” You said, giving the driver a quick grin and handing him the tip before opening up the car door. Joe was grinning then, offering his hand to you to help you out.

“You look great,” he said, teeth dragging across his lower lip. His voice was softer than it usually was, the look in his eyes warm and bright. Everything about him was making your body tingle with nerves. Your hand rested in his, igniting a warmth that spread down your arm and settled into your whole body as you stepped out of the car.

“Thanks. So do you.” You felt a little awkward, almost stilted. You knew how to react with him in short, teasing bursts. But this was a whole other ballgame, and you were terrified that you were going to strike out.

He didn’t let go of your hand, instead adjusting his so that his fingers intertwined with yours.

“Is this okay?” You looked up at him, and found a little solace in the fact that he looked just as nervous as you felt.

“Yeah, Joe, it’s good.” He gave your hand a quick squeeze as he started forward, leading you inside. You waited a couple of seconds before allowing your word vomit to start. “So this is kind of awkward, right?” Joe let out a loud laugh, causing a couple of people to turn their heads in your direction as the two of you made your way to a table in the back. You’d expected that you’d be grabbing drinks at some fancy place, but instead, it was some little pizza place hidden away on a side street in LA.

“This is really awkward, yeah. I feel like I don’t know what to say, y’know? Like maybe I should’ve asked you out when it’d be just the two of us.”

“You know what we need to do then, right?” Joe just looked down at you, pausing a little before you reached the table. “We drink.”

And drink you did. Charlie kept his down to a single beer, admitting that he was taking pity on Natalia since she couldn’t drink at all. Dacre drank more than you’d ever thought was humanly possible, but Joe kept reminding you that he was Australian, and they can drink infinitely more than Americans ever could. You and Joe, however, were right in between the two extremes. A couple of beers in each, pleasantly tipsy. With each sip, you found yourself leaning against him more and more. His arm rested against the back of your chair, fingertips brushing against your shoulder every so often.

“So, wait. Have you or have you not watched Stranger Things?” Natalia asked you, eyes wide and incredulous.

“I’m getting to it! Do you know how many TV shows I need to watch? Just thinking about it stresses me out!”

“Dacre, hand me a napkin,” Joe ordered, looking up as the waitress passed by them. “Excuse me, miss? Whenever you have a second, could I borrow a pen?” She fished one out of her pocket, giving him a wide grin. “You are a lifesaver, thank you.”

Dacre leaned across the table, watching as Joe started to write.

Shows and Movies That Y/N Needs to Watch Right Fucking Now ASAP

You just ate your pizza as the four castmates started chiming in with show suggestions that were a must for you to watch.

“Oh, have you seen Fight Club?” Dacre asked, mouth full of french fries.

“I haven’t, but I don’t really need to. Joe ruined it for me this morning.”

“KEERY!” Dacre yelled, throwing a couple of french fries in Joe’s direction. “What the hell is wrong with you? Fuckin’ spoilers, man.”

“It’s been out for years! How the hell has she not seen it?”

“It doesn’t matter! It’s like telling someone that Jon Snow isn’t really dead.”

Joe grew quiet as your face went white. Charlie and Nat picked up on it almost immediately, both of them staring wide eyed at the big-mouthed Australian.

“Are you fucking kidding me?”

“Wait, are you not caught up?”

“I’m in the middle of season three.” Dacre was the one whose face went white in that moment, turning a bright red in mere seconds.

“Oh my God, I’m so sorry, holy shit. I’m so sorry, I didn’t know.”

You didn’t want to, but a quiet chuckle escaped your lips anyway. Dacre looked so remorseful in that moment as he practically tripped over his words, still rambling on in an attempt to really apologize to you.

“It’s fine, Dacre, really. It’s not like you told me something really important, like the fact that Offred ends up pregnant with Nick’s baby.”

“I told you that I was on episode six, are you fucking kidding me?” Dacre exploded, causing Joe to grin wide enough that it looked as though it’d hurt. The table burst into laughter, bolstered by the fact that Dacre was just sitting in his chair sputtering as he shook his head violently.

“That might the hottest thing I’ve ever seen,” Joe said, as casual as though he was commenting on the weather. But when you looked over to him, his eyes were dark as he watched you. Something dropped in your stomach, and in that span of a second, the pizzeria became stifling.

“Right,” Charlie began, but his voice sounded distant to you. Then again, everything was sounding distant to you, and becoming even more distant the longer you looked at Joe. “On that note, I think we’re going to leave.”

“You ready to head out, then?” Joe’s voice was the only voice that sounded close. You looked over to him, cheeks a little warm as you nodded. It was kind of a blur as everyone settled the check (the only thing that was clear was the fact that Joe was refusing to let you pay) and before you knew it, you and Joe were waving everyone off as the two of you lingered out on the sidewalk.

“So, um, hottest thing you’ve ever seen, huh?” Your words weren’t slurring by any means, but there was still a pleasant fog hovering over your brain, your words falling out of your mouth a little slower than they usually did.

Joe turned to look at you, his head moving in a slow nod. He took a step closer to you, resting a hand on your waist to pull you into him.

“I love Dacre, I do, but you ruining The Handmaid’s Tale for him like that was the single most attractive thing that I’ve ever seen in my entire life.”

“Really?”

“Yeah.” His lips were on yours right after the single word was spoken. It was warm and lazy, like the two of you had all the time in the world to just kiss each other. It was late out; the sidewalk was mostly empty. It was easier to forget that you weren’t in a more private spot, especially when his tongue swiped along your lower lip. You opened your mouth, deepening the kiss as you wound your arms around his neck. The tension spurred the two of you on, pushing you closer to him as his free hand wound behind you, grabbing your -

“Get a room, Jesus!”

The stranger’s voice sounded from down the street, but it was enough to make you spring away from him. You weren’t sure when your fingers had wound into his hair, but it was looking disheveled all the same, some tufts standing straight up as though he’d just gotten out of bed.

“You want to get out of here?” Joe’s voice was wrecked. It was low and scratchy. His chest was heaving up and down as though he’d been running in a dead sprint. The look he was giving you put images in your head, ones of him pressing you up against a wall and wrapping your legs around his waist as his lips made their home against your neck.

“Absolutely,” you said. Your own voice wasn’t that much better. That single word had come out far more breathless than you’d intended, but the effect it had on Joe made a fire run in your veins, screaming throughout your entire body.

Joe pulled out his phone, fingers trembling as he opened up the app to call an Uber. You were going to make some sort of joke about how he still used Uber when Lyft was so much better, but he glanced to you out of the corner of his eye, and it made your knees a little weak.

It was worse when he put his phone away.

The two of you were standing there, shoulder to shoulder as the driver took his or her good time in getting there. A group of drunken college students had meandered down the street, and as much as you wanted to, making out with Joe once more wasn’t an option.

“How drunk are you right now?” You looked up at him, appreciating the way that the orange streetlights lit his face. He was all soft light and shadows, with an occasional pink hue from a broken, neon sign.

“Maybe slightly tipsy? Sober enough to consent, if that’s what you’re asking.” His eyes were darkening with every passing second.

“Same here.” Your teeth raked across your lower lip, biting down on it. Joe groaned, running his fingers through his hair as he tilted his head back. “You’re going to drive me insane.”

The Uber pulled up right in front of you. Joe rested his hand against the small of your back, guiding you to the car.

The car ride was torture. It was a sweet kind of torture, but torture nonetheless. Joe kept his hand on your thigh the entire time, trying time after time to inch it up, only to be stopped by your glare. Every time he was caught, he’d shoot you this dark little smirk that sent heat right down your spine.

There was no doubt in your mind that if you let him continue, you wouldn’t be able to stop yourself. The poor driver didn’t deserve to deal with that.

It was a little embarrassing just how fast you made it out of the Uber the second it was in park. You practically leaped out of the car, eager to try and get a handle on yourself. But you really couldn’t. All you could feel was the ghost of his hand gripping your thigh, or his lips against yours, nothing but need. Hell, it took you a full twenty seconds to realize that you were at a hotel.

“You okay?” It was as though he’d appeared out of thin air, made of nothing but attraction and a little bit of concern. Your hand reached out and took hold of his.

“I’m great.”

It would have been a miracle if the two of you could have made it up to his room before you leapt at each other. Thankfully, it was a little past one in the morning, which meant that the elevator was empty.

The second the doors dinged shut, Joe had you crowded into the corner. This time it was different. It was hard to tell where you ended and he began. With every move of his lips you were dissolving into him. You nipped at his lower lip, gentle as you tugged on it. A low groan emanated from his throat as he pressed against you.

It was hard to tell whether Joe was taking something from you or giving it to you. All you knew was that you felt like rushing water, shifting and moving and responding to every move that he took.

Far away, you could hear the opening of the elevator doors. It almost physically hurt to pry yourself away from him, but suddenly, you needed to get into that room of his. Joe blinked down at you, mirroring your exact expression.

“I…” He breathed out that lonesome letter, the look on his face telling you all that you needed to know. You took his hand and lead him out of the elevator, pausing as you waited for him to speak. “Lead the way,” he said, dazed.

“I don’t know what room it is.”

Joe stared down at you for a moment longer, the dazed look in his eyes fading until he realized what you’d just said. A furious blush attacked his cheeks as he led you down the hall. His thumb kept rubbing distracting circles into your skin.

It took a little longer for the two of you to make it to his room. Once, because he’d glanced back to you and caught sight of your lip between your teeth, which had ended up with your back against the wall, his lips against yours as he muttered something about biting that lip for you.

The bigger reason, however, was the fact that once your party of two had reached his room, his hands had been shaking so hard as he tried to put the key card into the slot. Apparently, it was hard for him to concentrate when you were pressing kiss after kiss against his jaw, fingers hooked around his belt loops to draw him closer to you.

“Y/N, I just - I - C’mon, I can’t - Yes.”

Just like that, he’d managed to unlock the door, practically shoving you through it and then promptly apologizing. You stepped into the room, taking it all in. It was an average hotel room, littered with a couple of shirts on the ground, and two PlayStation 4 controllers setting on top of the mini fridge. He flipped on a light, the room illuminated enough to make everything nice and soft.

A bout of nerves filled your chest as you glanced over to him. This was Joe, the guy that you’d been denying that you had a crush on for almost a year. This was the guy that had made you look forward to filming some interviews, who had popped in and out of your life ever since you’d first met.

You liked Joe.  A lot. A hell of a lot.

He was staring at you, patient as he waited for you to say something. There was a small smile lingering on his lips as he watched you, and it caused a kaleidoscope of butterflies to flutter in your stomach. He started to walk towards you, eyes focused on yours as your pulse quickened.

“You look a little terrified, which is kinda weird, since twenty seconds ago you were kissing me like your life depended on it,” he teased, his words gentle as he reached for you. You let him circle his arms around your waist, loose enough for you to pull away if you wanted to.

“I just, I like you, alright? I don’t want to mess anything up. Or give you the wrong impression.”

“The impression that I got was that you like me as much as I like you, and we’re going to be hanging out a lot more together, and that this isn’t casual at all for either of us.” The relief flooded through you, washing away any doubts that had sunk their teeth into your mind. “Am I close?”

“Spot on, actually.”

“Would it make you feel better if we just hang out, maybe watched some TV and made out a lot?”

“Are you proposing that we… Netflix and chill?”

Joe laughed, his head dropping against yours as he grinned. His laughter devolved into snickers as he looked down at you.

“Essentially, I guess so. It’s catchier than saying let’s watch Parks and Rec and make out a ton during it.” He pressed a quick kiss to your lips, followed by one to your cheek. “You have seen Parks and Rec, right? Because if you haven’t, we can’t make out during it. You need to see it.”

“I’ll… I’ll get to it, okay! Don’t judge me!” Joe tugged you towards the bed, falling down onto it and pulling you down with him.

“What the hell have you seen? Because I really want to make out with you.”

“30 Rock.”

“I haven’t finished it yet, though.”

“Have you gotten to the part where Liz and Jack get married?” Joe turned onto his side so he could get a better look at you. You just grinned up at him, the laughter bubbling up out of you like a spring.

“Don’t start with me,” he warned. His words were low, but they were belied by the grin that he just couldn’t get rid of.

“Oh yeah? What are you gonna do about it, hmmm, Keery?” He leaned down, swinging his leg over you and resting a hand on either side of your head to hold himself up. His lips hovered just above yours as he smirked. His mouth brushed against yours, hot and open as you stared up at him.

“I can think of a few things.”

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