#I dunno if I’ve ever mentioned this publicly before

[andro-dino]

oreo kosuke

[paingoes]

Rubies

Web 2.0

(Content: living weapon whumpee, guilt, conditioning, past abuse, caretaker new master)

Apollo had stayed true to his promise of making the room less sparse. He’d brought down books from upstairs so Delta would have something to do besides staring off into space whenever he locked himself in his room. He’d given him a journal too, which Delta found tremendously suspicious. Delta had a habit of destroying everything he’d ever written just as soon as he had finished. He would continue on in this tradition. Anyone having that kind of direct access to his thoughts terrified him. He was grateful for the books, though. 

It was Kitty who offered her old laptop.

“Don’t…look too hard through that,” She said with a nervous smile. She’d done all she could to reset it, but she couldn’t be sure there weren’t still some gems lying around in its SSD. 

Delta reflexively recoiled at the offer. There was such a strong impulse in his head to avoid getting caught with the laptop. It carried over now, even when freely offered. She left it on the desk for him. He would only use it in the dead of night, out of pure habit. It didn’t feel the same as it used to. It couldn’t hold his attention for very long.

There was a practical reason to reintroduce it, though. Kitty acted a bit furtive about it; Apollo said they weren’t supposed to be working. That’s what unpaid leave meant. But there wasn’t really anyone else they could kick it off to. They had to go through the archives. 

Kitty had already backed up everything he had posted publicly, plus all the exchanges they’d had in private. He’d focused in more once she’d mentioned it, agreeing it needed to be deleted as soon as possible so that there was nothing left to piece together about his alleged death. But there was other information on there that only he had access to, that they now needed to preserve before scrubbing.

katkittykat: ok we also were gonna try and offer u whistleblower immunity

katkittykat: but forget it i know u wont accept it

ndhakdvsnnd: im not a whistleblower

katkittykat: see what did i say 

ndhakdvsnnd: can you fuck off

They scrolled through the archived chat logs in dim silence. Kitty was sitting next to him on the floor with the new old laptop up on the coffee table. Neither of them needed to say it. It was weird to go through their old texts while in person. 

It wasn’t Kitty’s first time meeting an internet friend. She had done it more times than she could count. Almost all of them had been shyer and more reserved in person, so she had already expected Delta to follow in that trend. But it was clear that what was going on with him is a different beast entirely.

When she turned to look at him, his eyes were cast down again and his head was bowed. Loose strands fell in his face. He removed his hand from the touchpad, letting it rest in his lap.

“I’m sorry,” he said quietly, “I…shouldn’t have talked to you like that.”

“Just bants, man.” Kitty elbowed him — not a good idea. He winced, the pain reigniting in the handprint-shaped bruise around his upper arm.

“It was disrespectful.” He closed his eyes. It was guilt — not fear — that was audible in his voice.

“I’ve never done anything respectable,” she joked.

He opened his eyes to meet her own. His expression was wholly disbelieving. It wasn’t a joke to him. She remembered how sincerely he’d spoken the other day. Thank you for saving me. She’d tried to brush it off, but her heart had hurt badly afterwards. It hurt again now.

“Don’t worry about it. Seriously.” She had to resist the urge to squeeze his shoulder the way she would with her other friends; she saw how he had flinched whenever she touched him. Thankfully, he didn’t mention it again.

The loading icon went around and around as the account was deleted. Just as soon as it stopped, the home page of the forum appeared. In bold letters, it read Sign Up.

“You gonna make a new account?” She asked.

“Do you think I should?” His hand hovered over the button. 

“I dunno. You were active way before you started posting all the leaks. I thought you were having a good time with it,” she paused, “Guess it might be kind of touchy now though?”

It did make him really anxious to be on the computer. It made him feel too much like he was about to be caught out, as little sense as it made. He started to shrug, then stopped himself. Disrespectful.

“Yes, miss,” he agreed, “It’s…touchy.”

That was putting it mildly, but he had no desire to say more. He pocketed the thought, though. He probably would get back online later. It just felt like too much to do it now, without her explicit guidance. The thought alone was starting to overwhelm him. He shifted uncomfortably.

“Can I go back in my room, miss?” He asked in a soft voice. 

“Yeah, whatever. You don’t have to ask.” She tried to reassure him. He’d gotten scared at some point; she could see it in the way he held himself. She didn’t really want for him to go off to deal with it alone, but she wasn’t going to force him to stay. She watched as he disappeared behind the door. He’d left the laptop behind. She shut it for him, then stretched upwards, climbing up onto the couch.

=======

“Does he talk to you?” Apollo would later ask her. He added, a bit dejectedly, “He doesn’t talk to me.”

“Nah.” She shook her head.

“Well, it’s still early,” Apollo started arguing with himself when she wouldn’t, “I guess he’s still scared. I’m not sure what I can say to him that isn’t going to sound trite. He always hated it when I tried say stuff like that to him over text. So defensive. I don’t know if it’ll go over better or worse now.”

She could tell he’d been thinking about it often. Fussing came so naturally to him. She’d liked it a lot when they were a little younger, when she was even crazier and badly needed someone to try and reel her back in. It isn’t lost on her that Delta has the exact opposite problem, that Apollo’s delimiting nature could have the opposite effect. He badly wanted for things to be clean.

“You shouldn’t take it purrsonally.” The pun slipped into her voice even when she was trying to be serious.

“I know,” he agreed, “I…don’t think he was allowed to talk before. It’s rude to speculate. I don’t want to be presumptuous. But.”

He threw his hands up at the wrists, not finishing the sentence. There was nothing to do but speculate. It was clear enough Delta had not been treated well; the bruises spoke for themselves. But the particulars of his behavior were a kind of puzzle box. He offered no key for it.

Galatea had dealt with Empire’s lot before, both refugees and defectors. Apollo had met many of them personally. There was always a stilted manner in which they spoke. The customs of Empire still remained enigmatic to all those living outside of it. Apollo had no way of telling how much of Delta’s behavior was just a cultural difference — or even a linguistic one — and how much of it was something deeper. He could not tell how much of it was motivated by fear or confusion or simple exhaustion. How much of it was what he wanted vs what he thought he was supposed to do. Apollo wished desperately for some kind of candor between them. Still, he understood that it would be asking a lot of him at that point. He sighed. 

========

The knock was soft and rhythmic. Delta jumped, immediately moving to hide the laptop beneath his blanket. It wasn’t as good as beneath the mattress, but decent enough on short notice. He mechanically slid off the bed, dropping onto his knees at the foot of it. The door did not open.

“Can I come in?” It was Apollo’s voice on the other side. Yes, obviously. It wasn’t locked.

“Yes, sir,” Delta answered anyway. 

Apollo pushed the door open. His eyes widened a little to see Delta kneeling, but he did not show the same visible alarm that he had before. He slid the door shut behind him, leaning back against it.

“I thought it might be good for us to talk,” Apollo said. He tried to read Delta’s body language, but it did not shift by much. Deliberately controlled. He didn’t answer, staring up at Apollo with huge eyes, patient and expectant. Apollo pushed himself on. It was trite, but if there really was any confusion about Delta’s position, it wouldn’t be right to leave him hanging.

“You can sit. That’s what I wanted to talk to you about, actually. Levon told you he wasn’t going to hurt you, didn’t he? And you know that me and Kitty won’t either? You don’t have to be scared of us. You’re safe here.”

Delta didn’t move off of the ground. His head had lowered a little bit, as if he was being scolded. He didn’t take his eyes off of Apollo. 

Apollo squatted down onto his heels, trying to get to Delta’s level.

“Are you scared?” He asked.

“…Yes, sir.” Delta nodded slowly.

“Okay,” Apollo nodded too, rubbing his chin, “That’s okay. Can I ask why?”

Delta’s wrung his hands anxiously; it was a childhood habit, one he’d mostly gotten out of by the time he’d graduated. It’d returned with a vengeance.

“I don’t know.” He said shamefully. “Sir. I’m sorry.”

“You don’t have to be sorry. It’s okay. I just wanted to check in on how you’re feeling. I can’t tell a lot of the time. You know you can talk to me or Kitty if you’re upset, right? We want you to be comfortable here. You can tell us if something is wrong.”

Apollo doubted it even as he said it. It seemed unlikely that Delta would come to them for anything, that he might not be physically capable of it at this point. But if he introduced the idea early — and reminded him often — it might start to sink in. For the time being, Delta did not respond.

“I’m assuming the kneeling is a habit, right?” Apollo ventured. Delta seemed a bit alarmed at the suggestion. 

“It’s just to be respectful. Sir.” Delta explained in a quiet voice.

He considered this. It might’ve been easier if it was just muscle memory, not a deliberate effort on Delta’s part. The mindset would be harder to get him out of. But Apollo was very glad that Delta had been willing to explain his reasoning to him. It was a good sign.

“Okay. You don’t have to,” He stated very clearly, “You can stand up. We won’t think it’s disrespectful. No one else will, either. You don’t have to do it.”

Again, not much changed in Delta’s expression. He offered the same quiet noise of affirmation, not voicing anything else. 

“Do you have any questions?” Apollo cursed himself for not asking sooner. But Delta didn’t take advantage of the opportunity the way he had hoped. 

“No, sir.” Delta folded his hands in his lap. He’d answered too soon. Apollo wondered if the question had come across as bullying. He got the sense he was starting to push too far out of Delta’s comfort zone. 

“Alright. Let me know if you need anything. Like I said, you can talk to us whenever. We’re right out here.” He stood up, feeling a little bad that Delta was still kneeling. He started to close the door.

He heard a soft “Thank you” just before it clicked shut.

…………

tags:

@catnykit @snakebites-and-ink @vivulapom @scoundrelwithboba @whatwhump

@pumpkin-spice-whump @deluxewhump @fuckass1000 @fuckcapitalismasshole @defire

@micechomper @writereleaserepeat

[jolapeno]

honestly I've never seen anyone here write ghost as a cheater so i don't know where anon got that from.

I'm curious though, since you say ghost and helen are an end game, would they ever have children? or just adopt a dog hahah but considering what ghost went through i doubt he'd entertain the idea of being a father (dunno just me tbh)

also alsooo your writing of him is like one of a kind for me, like feels so him and in character. so Helen engraved herself into his heart and veins?? holy heck do i have so many thoughts on their dynamic. But i think it's fitting, like very and your description of destroying things and putting back together is exactly how i see it. ghost having someone who will put him back together and be his reason, purpose is poetic. For the end though, i wonder how the two of them are like on the field considering Helen isn't always called to be out on the lines, how do they work? I imagine there's alot of banter especially if they talk via radio hahah sorry cause this got long.

Also your writing of his character is most definitely not jarring! ^^

oh, that’s so sweet thank you. I’m glad he’s not jarring and he’s so well liked over here. ✨ that makes me a very happy bean.

so, it’s not that I don’t think they have a child, or want them, it’s just not something I’ve gotten to yet because in my personal life, I’m not sure if they’re on the cards and it’s still a bit raw? if that makes sense.

so for that reason, I think they’d adopt a dog first. like I have done. 😂

they’re aware of what their job demands. so when he goes away, it’s risky to talk so they don’t. she misses him, but she understands and silently worries until he comes back. he won’t risk radioing her unless necessary, like when she’s sent as medevac or when they’re arriving and need her to ready up. but it’s strictly business on the radio. when they’re both in the field, they both have jobs to do—important ones, at that. so, they only break from that straight-thinking in absolute worry. like when he ran across a fucking battlefield to power bomb her through a door to save her from being ambushed. and while it’s not been posted, but has been written, but mentioned, Helen takes a bullet for him. she doesn’t think, doesn’t consider what she’s doing, she just does it. and it’s in those moments people can piece together there’s something more, but they don’t necessarily say it.

they’re people who say a lot with their eyes and their soft actions. he’ll tap her twice when he comes back and he’s passing her, which means missed you. she’ll run her flat palm down the back of his arm to his forearm before lightly squeezing, meaning be safe. they’ve adapted to say a lot with less because they’re both people who want to enjoy this privately, not publicly.

the only difference is him calling her helen.

[woogurl]

(hi, it’s me again pretending as if i didn’t go on an unannounced hiatus).

yes, i’m back...for now. i’m not sure for how long. as i’m too busy these days, but i wanted to specifically make this post because it’s been bothering me for a while now. someone mentioned this in the woosan tag as well, but it’s...

non-atiny’s(and some anti-shipping atiny) who constantly feel the need to expose woosan as some cleverly put together ship that was carefully manufactured by the company. i’ve seen so many titles on youtube and posts on twitter saying how:

“woosan is obvious fanservice” and “woosan; a prime example of queerbating in kpop” 

i’ve never seen a ship be so criticized for being ‘out there’ and ‘in your face’. i’ve made a post on fanservice before but this post will mainly be focused on why i think it’s completely unfair, dishonest, homophobic, and antagonistic to view their relationship as manufactured and fake. and before you go, ‘i’m sure they’re good friends but all that other stuff is clearly done by the company.’ and don’t get me wrong, bc kq is very much aware of the ships and do try to profit off of fanservice...like every other company. but the clearest indicator of this not being MOSTLY all fanservice is something i’ve mentioned many times before.

1. the rest of the ships in ateez not being anywhere near the intimacy and skinship as woosan.

2. body language. 

3. the members THEMSELVES explaining their dynamics.

4. kq not FORCING ships.

ever since predebut and debut there’s ALWAYS been three main ships in ateez. seongjoong, yungi, and ofc woosan. 

as you could see, woosan was definitely thee most popular ship. however, i do believe their popularity grew over time because during the early era i’m sure seongjoong dominated, even on fanfic sites they dominate the amount of fanfics written about them. however, woosan’s clear comfort and intimacy with each other made them more popular among atiny’s and even non atiny’s they even had some taekookers saying their ship was realer and that’s saying something xD. 

something people really, no i mean REALLY need to understand is...doing fanservice does not invalidate an entire relationship. 

there are plenty of celeb couples who enjoy publicly dating and showing affection. 

then comes the argument of well, “if they were real they wouldn’t be so obvious about it.”

this statement bothers me because, people who believe that showing too much skinship is fanservice but then they’ll turn around and say at the same time it’s just culture???

it’s fair to see them doing their fake love dance routine and going THAT’S FANSERVICE. but looking at those moments and going ‘nah, their entire friendship gotta be fanservice.’ is delusional to me, as u like to call us shippers. 

even if you do not ship them romantically, it’s odd to me that people see two same-sex idols expressing comfortability, intimacy and skinship together and feel like if they’re too open about it or if it looks too gay then it’s....fake? even tho fans love to say it’s just apart of their culture. but if it gets too gay, then it’s fanservice. 

i can’t. xD

just because they’re completely comfortable with being intimate doesn’t mean they’re being forced to act that way...it literally just means they ARE that way. 

i constantly put emphasis on being comfortable with skinship and intimacy bc, to me that’s just not something the company can force. body language is a reaction from your true emotions and your inner most thoughts. IT IS THE FOUNDATION TO FIGURING OUT WHAT A PERSON TRULY FEELS INSIDE AS THEIR EMOTIONS WILL ALWAYS TRANSLATE THROUGH THEIR BODY. if u are uncomfortable it will be revealed through body language. and i know a ton of seongjoong shippers are gonna hate me for this, but they are a prime example of this. trust me i’m not here to start a ship war, i am purely just using them as an example of discomfort in body language. 

body language is something a company cannot control.

seongjoong show definite signs of being uncomfortable with intimacy, heck shippers use that one moment seonghwa expressed sadness bc hj hugged the other members and not him as a shipping moment lol. but even when they do hug it looks uncomfortable. my guess is bc hj is not good at expressing his feelings and isn’t a touchy person. and even tho seonghwa is comfortable with skinship, it’s understandable that it can become uncomfortable for him bc of the things i mentioned before as well as the power dynamics and age difference between them.

and here i am going to be stoned bc, i have more to say about seongjoong(don’t kill me). 

bc something the company also can’t control is what OR who the members hang out with OUTSIDE of group activities. so that’s why i’m also mentioning that i also don’t think seongjoong is as close as shippers think they are as...seonghwa mostly hangs out with woosan. and it is almost always mentioned how often woosan hang out together off camera. even early on. woosan hung out so much that it literally came to a point where yeosang felt like his bestfriend was taken from him. 

can we mention again how happy that makes san? and let’s not forget the moment woo said seonghwa was into him, but san was like. ‘you’re into me tho’ and they BOTH tried to gloss over that.

wooyoung: wHaT dO u mEaN? 

lol. people love to say how much san’s whipped for woo, but woo’s probably even more whipped. 

here’s more evidence of woosan enjoying each others company off camera. https://woogurl.tumblr.com/post/614348590729625600/nobody-wooyoung-san-and-i-bass-boosted#notes. 

we can even talk about a more recent moment. the ateez debate about mint chocolate. dunno what’s with these kpop idols debating about mint choco ‘cause bts did it too. lol. anyway, they ended up talking about the group dynamics. and how woosan again are always together. 

i-i’m sorry, but does moment remind y’all of a past moment? LMFAO. seonghwa’s feeling yeosang’s pain. 

seonghwa’s just like woosan says they’re tired of each other but can’t detach themselves. and here’s more evidence that the company isn’t forcing them. for those who thinks kq has some masterplan when it comes to promoting ships.

when they talk about their dynamics, jongho says he feels left out but hj exposes him and says, ‘we’ve tried to pair him with someone but he(jongho) just doesn’t do it’

so this just solidifies my statement from earlier, if the members don’t wanna promote a ship. they ain’t gonna do it. we got one or two vlives from twoho and das it. lmfao. don’t get me wrong. i’m sure jongho get along well with yunho as well as the other members, but promoting any of the other ships in ateez like woosan isn’t gonna work well. ‘cause the rest of the members don’t have the same dynamics. woosan are comfortable with skinship and being intimate with each other and the other members just are not.

another piece of evidence is the members tired reaction whenever woosan is mentioned. lmfao. 

this was so dramatic omg. but the members reactions are very telling of woosan’s relationship off screen. if woosan was just fanservice i do not believe the members would react the way they do, maybe share some knowing glances at each other like. ‘pfft, they think woosan’s real’ but their reactions are always big or very indicative of something bigger happening behind the scenes. lol. 

i’m not gonna go into too much details, bc the members reactions to woosan are an entirely different post(i got so many posts to make. xD).

Lastly Wooyoung’s Tatto. I know right? He’s very committed to fanservice guys. 

Amicus ad Aras is something that woosan made to signify their friendship, and the fact woo got a tattoo on his body of it means a lot. not to mention woo himself taking initiative to find something that represented their relationship. 

i feel like i need to reiterate that the meaning of this tattoo was to define his relationship to san specifically so it applies to san specifically. woo has many MANY friends AS WELL as bestfriends yet he got a tattoo that can only be truly applied to san and no one else. 

u can continue saying theyy’re just good friends doing fanservice, but it’s obv that woo has many good friends. so the next question u gotta answer is what separates san from the others.

[supercantaloupe]

okay yeah actually, i’ll bite. i’ve got some of my own thoughts about the unsleeping city and cultural representation and i’m gonna make a post about them now, i guess. i’ll put it under a cut though because this post is gonna be long.

i wanna start by saying i love dimension 20 and i really really enjoy the unsleeping city. i look forward to watching new episodes every week, and getting hooked on d20 as a whole last summer really helped pull me out of a pandemic depression, and i’m grateful to have this cool show to be excited about and interested in and to have met so many cool people to talk about it with.

that being said, however, i think there is a risk run in representing any group of people/their culture when you have the kind of setting that tuc has. by which i mean, tuc is set in a real world with real people and real human cultures in it. unlike fantasy high or a crown of candy where everything is made up (even if rooted in real-world cultures), tuc is explicitly rooted in reality, and all of its diversity -- both the ups and downs that go with it. and especially set in new york of all places, one of the most densely, diversely populated cities on earth. the cast is 7 people; it’s great that those 7 people come from a variety of backgrounds and identities and all bring their own unique perspectives to the table, and it’s great that those people and the entire crew are generally conscious of themselves and desire to tell stories/represent perspectives ethically. but you simply cannot authentically represent every culture or every perspective in the world (or even just in a city) when your cast is 7 people. it’s an impossible task. this is inherent to the setting, and acknowledged by the cast, and by brennan especially, who has been on record saying how one of the exciting aspects of doing a campaign set in nyc is its diversity, the fact that no two new yorkers have the same perspective of new york. i think that’s a good thing -- but it does have its challenges too, clearly.

i’m not going to go into detail on the question of whether or not tuc’s presentation of asian and asian american culture is appropriative/offensive or not. first of all, i don’t feel like it’s 100% fair to judge the show completely yet, since it’s a prerecorded season and currently airing midseason, so i don’t yet know how things wrap up. secondly, i’m not asian or asian american. i can have my own opinions on that content in the show, but i think it’s worth more to hear actual asian and asian american voices on this specific aspect of the show. having an asian american cast member doesn’t automatically absolve the show of any criticisms with regard to asian american cultural representation/appropriation, whether those criticisms are made by dozens of viewers or only a handful of them. regardless, i don’t think it’s my place as someone who is not asian to speak with any authority on that issue, and i know for a fact that there are asian american viewers sharing their own opinions. their thoughts in this instance hold more water than mine, i think.

what i will comment on in more depth, though, is a personal frustration with tuc. i’m jewish; i’ve never really been shy about that fact on my page here. i’m not from new york, but i visit a few times a year (or i did before covid anyway, lol), and i have some family from nyc. nyc, to me, is a jewish city. and for good reason, since it’s home to one of the largest jewish populations of the country, and even the world, and aspects of jewish culture (including culinary, like bagels and pastrami, and linguistic, like the common use of yiddish words and phrases in english colloquial speech) are prevalent and celebrated among jews and goyim alike. when i think of nyc, i think of a jewish city; that’s not everybody’s new york, but that’s my new york, and thats plenty of other people’s new york too. so i do find myself slightly disappointed or frustrated in tuc for its, in my opinion, rather stark lack of jewish representation.

now, i’m not saying that one of the PCs should have been jewish, full stop. i love to headcanon iga as jewish even though canon does not support that interpretation, and i’m fine with that. she’s not my character. it’s possible that simply no one thought of playing a jewish character, i dunno. but also, and i can’t be sure about this, i’m willing to bet that none of the players really wanted to play a jewish character because they didn’t want to play a character of a marginalized culture they dont belong to in the interest of avoiding stereotyping or offensive representation/cultural appropriation. (i don’t know if any of the cast members are jewish, but i’m assuming not.) and the concern there is certainly appreciated; there’s not a ton of mainstream jewish rep out there, and often what we get is either “unlikeable overly conservative hassidic jew” or “jokes about their bar mitzvah/one-off joke about hanukkah and then their jewishness is never mentioned ever again,” which sucks. it would be really cool to see some more good casual jewish rep in a well-rounded, three-dimensional character in the main cast of a show! even if there are a couple of stumbles along the way -- nobody is perfect and no two jews have the same level of knowledge, dedication, and adherence to their culture.

but at the same time, i look at characters like iga and i really do long for a jewish character to be there. siobhan isn’t polish, yet she’s playing a characters whose identity as a polish immigrant to new york is very central to her story and arc. and part of me wonders why we can’t have the same for a jewish character. if not a PC, then why not an NPC? again, i’m jewish, and i am not native, but in my opinion i think the inclusion of jj is wonderful -- i think there are even fewer native main characters in mainstream media than there are jewish ones, and it’s great to see a native character who is both in touch with their culture as well as not being defined solely by their native-ness. to what extent does it count as ‘appropriative’ because brennan is a white dude? i dunno, but i’m like 99% sure they talked to sensitivity consultants to make sure the representation was as ethical as they could get it, and anyway, i can’t personally see and glaring missteps so far. but again, i’m not native, and if there are native viewers with their own opinions on jj, i’d be really interested in hearing them.

but getting back to the relative lack of jewish representation. it just...disappoints me that jewishness in new york is hardly ever even really mentioned? again, i know we’re only just over halfway through season 2, but also, we had a whole first season too. and it’s definitely not all bad. for example: willy! gd, i love willy so much. him being a golem of williamsburg makes me really really happy -- a jewish mythological creature animated from clay/mud (in this case bricks) to protect a jewish community (like that of williamsburg, a center for many of nyc’s jews) from threat. golem have so often been taken out of their original context and turned into evil monsters in fantasy settings, especially including dnd. (even within other seasons of d20! crush in fh being referred to as a “pavement golem” always rubbed me the wrong way, and i had hoped they’d learned better after tuc but in acoc they refer to another monster as a “corn golem” which just disappointed me all over again.) so the fact that tuc gets golems right makes my jewish heart very happy.

and yet...he doesn’t show up that much? sure, in s1, he’s very helpful when he does, but in s2 so far he shows up once and really does not say or do much of anything. he speaks with a lot more yiddish-influenced language than other characters, but if you didn’t know those words were specifically yiddish/jewish, you might not be able to otherwise clock the fact that willy is jewish. and while willy is a jewish mythological creature who is jewish in canon, he isn’t human. there are no other direct references to judaism, jewish characters, or jewish culture in the unsleeping city beyond him.

there are, in fact, two other canon jewish characters in tuc. but...here’s where i feel the most frustration, i think. the two canon jewish humans in tuc are stephen sondheim and robert moses. both of whom are real actual people, so it’s not like we can just pick and choose what their cultural backgrounds are. as much as i love stephen sondheim, i think there are inherent issues with including real world people as characters in a fictional setting, especially if they are from living/recent memory (sondheim is literally still alive), but anyway, sondheim and moses are both actual jewish people. from watching tuc alone you probably would not be able to guess that sondheim is jewish -- nothing from his character except name suggests it, and i wouldn’t even fault you for not thinking ‘sondheim’ is a jewish-sounding surname (and i dislike the idea/attitude/belief that you can tell who is or isn’t jewish by the sound of their name). and yeah, i’m not going to sit here and be like “brennan should have made sondheim more visibly jewish in canon!” because, like, he’s a real human being and it’s fucking weird to portray him in a way that isn’t as close to how he publicly presents himself, which is not in fact very identifiably jewish? i don’t know, this is what i mean by it’s inherently weird and arguably problematic to portray real living people as characters in a fictional setting, but i digress. sondheim’s jewish, even if you wouldn’t know it; not exactly a representation win.

and then there’s bob moses. you might be able to guess that he’s jewish from canon, actually. there’s the name, of course. but more insidious to me are the specifics of his villainy. greedy and powerhungry, a moneyman, a lich whose power is stored in a phylactery...it does kind of all add up to a Yikes from me. (in the stock market fight there’s a one-off line asking if he has green skin; it’s never really directly acknowledged or answered, but it made me really uncomfortable to hear at first and it’s stuck with me since viewing for the first time.) the issue for me here is that the most obviously jewish human character is the season’s bbeg, and his villainy is rooted in very antisemitic tropes and stereotypes.

i know this isn’t all brennan’s fault -- robert moses was a real ass person and he was in fact jewish, a powerhungry and greedy moneyman, a big giant racist asshole, etc. i’m not saying that jewish characters can’t be evil, and i’m not saying brennan should have tried to be like “this is my NPC robert christian he’s just like bob moses but instead he’s a goy so it’s okay” because...that would be fuckin weird bro. and bob moses was a real person who was jewish and really did do some heinous shit with his municipal power. i’m not necessarily saying brennan should have picked/created a different character to be the villain. i’m not even saying that he shouldn’t have made bob moses a lich (although, again, it doesn’t 100% sit right with me). but my point here is that bob moses is one of a grand total of three canon jewish characters in tuc, of which only two humans, of whom he is the one you’d most easily guess would be jewish and is the most influenced by antisemitic stereotypes/tropes. had there been more jewish representation in the show at all, even just some neutral jewish NPCs, this would not be as much of a problem as it is to me. but halfway through season 2, so far, this is literally all we get. and that bums me out.

listen, i really like tuc. i love d20. but the fact that it is set in a real world place with real world people does inherently raise challenges when it comes to ethical cultural representation. especially when the medium of the show is a game whose creatures, lore, and mechanics have been historically rooted in some questionable racial/cultural views. and dnd is making progress to correct some of those misguided views of older sourcebooks by updating them to more equitably reflect real world racial/cultural sensitivities; that’s a good thing! but these seasons, of course, were recorded before that. the game itself has some questionable cultural stuff baked into it, and that is (almost necessarily) going to be brought to the table in a campaign set in a real-world place filled with real-world people of diverse real-world cultures. the cast can have sensitivity consultants and empathy and the best intentions in the world, and they’ll still fuck up from time to time, that’s okay. your mileage may vary on whether or not it’s still worth sticking around with the show (or the fandom) through that. for me, it does not yet outweigh all the things i like about the show, and i’m gonna continue watching it. but it’s still very worth acknowledging that the cast is 7 people who cannot possibly hope to authentically or gracefully represent every culture in nyc. it’s an unfortunate limitation of the medium. yet it’s also still worthwhile to acknowledge and discuss the cultural representation as it is in the show -- both the goods and the bads, the ethically solid and the questionably appropriative -- and even to hold the creators accountable. (decently, though. i’m definitely not advocating anybody cyberbully brennan on twitter or whatever.) the show and its representation is far from perfect, but i also don’t think it ever could be. still, though, it could always be better, and there’s a worthwhile discussion to be had in the wheres, hows, and whys of that.

[heeytwelve]

“Are you saying my name?”

[SPOILERS ALERT]

There is special place for names in  “Carry On” book by @rainbowrowell​, and  a lot of important magic moments around the names starting from silly middle names and ending in name excluding from books as a way to make person disappear. But today I want to talk about boys names and ways they express their feelings through use of each other’s names.

“Baz,” he says, and it’s not unprecedented for him to say my name, but I know he avoids it.”

Excerpt From: Rainbow Rowell. “Carry On.” 

Ok, that moment really interesting to me. So Baz is mentions that Simon is avoiding using his name. Well, not really? Never have we ever encountered Simon calling him Pitch (which would be logical? They are enemies? Or maybe Simon thought it’s aristocratic name and sounds more compliment than insult?) or Tyrannus. Only once he uses his long name in message to Mage and it’s sorta cute and attentive.

“And then I add: “(T. Basilton Grimm-Pitch.)”

Excerpt From: Rainbow Rowell. “Carry On.”

He’s not calling him like that when he _talks_ to Mage though. And Simon uses his FULL name when he looking for Baz. Though, it said that it’s only to make spell irresistible, it also shows how desperate Simon to find him. And how he remembers his long ass name by heart.

I mean, Simon definitely not avoiding Baz name, if anything, he actually enjoying saying it. And he does say it. Like, a lot. He says his name fucking THREE times in a couple of sentences, when he finally sees him in his last year.

“Baz. I stand up too quickly, knocking my chair over. Across the room, a mug falls to the floor and shatters—I glance over and see that Agatha is standing, too. Baz steps towards us. Baz.”

Excerpt From: Rainbow Rowell. “Carry On.” Baz, though - yes, he is particularly un-easy about saying “Simon” (which what Agatha and Penelope have no problem with, or you know Gareth and everyone else), for Baz - “Simon” is almost shamefully erotic thing to say. Even in his thoughts BEFORE fighting with dragon episode he calls him “Simon Snow”, always these two names together, so Simon sounds like more than superhero than a person. Or he uses “Snow” when he talks about him in disgusted/sarcastic/somehow negative way. You would expect Simon talk the same way in his most negative thought about Baz, like call him Pitch, or insult him, but no. 

“I’ll kill Baz, so that he isn’t an option.” ...

He tilts his head and shrugs again. “Why wouldn’t she?” “Fuck you, Baz. Seriously.

Excerpt From: Rainbow Rowell. “Carry On.” 

Not in negative thoughts, not in open heated confrontations. Always - Baz, never -  Pitch (which for instance Mage calls him plenty). Back to Baz. So he won’t say “Simon” until that dragon fight.

...when I hear Baz calling my name. I look up and see him running along the ramparts. ... “Simon,” he’s shouting, “don’t hurt it!”

Excerpt From: Rainbow Rowell. “Carry On.”

I suspect Simon either doesn’t register that it (might be) either first time or very RARE occasion, but he’s too busy admiring the view :D But really, Baz saying his name publicly, out-loud, after he even didn’t allow himself to think this name (really, it’s first time we see Baz saying his name like that in the whole book!) - it is quite a biggie. And it shows that helping Simon was not about truce or dragon. It was response to Simon trying to comfort him. It was - “you’ve put our relationships in whole another level and I accept it” or at least “you’ve cared about me and I’ve been an arse and I regret it. I want more of that caring”.

Then, after this episode he will just slowly start to use “Simon” here and there. Even during confrontations.

“Yes,” I say. “What if I took your magic, cast it against you, and settled Baz versus Simon, once and for all. 

Excerpt From: Rainbow Rowell. “Carry On.”

Like, how cosy he said that!  Baz versus Simon. Not Pitch versus (I dunno) Chosen One. Or at least Simon Snow. He even starts using his name in thoughts! 

“Simon grabs my other hand, and my chest opens wider. “Merlin and Morgana,” he says. “Are we in space?”

Excerpt From: Rainbow Rowell. “Carry On.” What is funny with all of this, that Simon actually doesn’t pay attention to this! He only notices it when Baz literally throws it in his face.

“He’s just here to visit, Mother. We have a project we’re working on together—a school project. And you don’t have to call him that. You can just call him Simon.” “You don’t call me Simon,” I mumble. “We’ll be up in my room,” Baz says, ignoring me.

”Excerpt From: Rainbow Rowell. “Carry On.” Apple Books.  Uh-uh, Simon finally notices and he hits soft spot and Baz has ignoring as coping mechanism when he stressed :) Simon won’t let it go after that and THATS one of the best jokes in this book, joking around Baz and how sacred Simon’s name for him, so he can’t even use it as much as he can, it’s too intense. I like this scene where Simon actually demands that Baz calls him Simon. 

“I’ve been thinking,” I say, “if we’re going to do this, you have to start calling me by my name. “You have to call me Simon,” I say. “You’ve called me that before.” “Fine,” Baz says. “Get in the car, Simon. (next interaction) “Shut up, Snow.”

Excerpt From: Rainbow Rowell. “Carry On.” 

LIke - he’s been thinking. Long time. This is the only thing he planned (he’ve been thinking) to do in whole vampire finding/catching operation. Like, look how badly he want Baz call him by his name. And this discussion happend right after he thought about how Baz dating. He touched him to start this conversation. And again - whole thing too intense for Baz so he brings all of his defence mechanisms in - insulting and ignoring. Yep. Baz mad about Simons name.It is very special for him. Sacred. Erotic. Almost humiliating to say. It is love confession and not less.

But! Don’t get me wrong, I’m not saying that Baz name is less important for Simon to say. It is just different way of admiration. I would say it is like extravert/introvert way to express feelings. Like “I will eat this dessert as much as I can before I die from it. I’m going to inhale it. I’m going to be obsessed with it” versus “This dessert is SO precious to me, I will eat it only in a VERY special occasions. I will never ruin it or make it mundane, I never get bored with it”. They are both obsessed with each other names. They are both in love with them. They just different people and they express it differently. And that is also why Simon is so intense about Baz using his name. It’s almost like “I’m obsessed with you. I want you to be in love with me too. Please say my name. Because that’s how I express my feelings and I think that’s how it is". Being all delicate about over-using the name or being too vulnerable and too scared to use it - just not the thing Simon gets, it might actually feels rather cold shoulder for him.

Honestly though. I love how author showed us with this little thing as “name saying”, how different they are.

Aaand end this TED talk with one of my favourite (re-occurring) quotes. (which became sorta the way of flirting between these two)   “You’re an idiot, Snow.”   “You called me Simon before.”   “No, I didn’t.” Excerpt From: Rainbow Rowell. “Carry On.” 

[movedtovervainbrokemyheart]

Dash game/survey under the cut it’s just long and has some triggering content mentions.

BASICS:

name: Vervain

age: 33 

preferred pronouns: she/her 

sexuality: bisexual 

zodiac sign: Gemini 

taken or single: “I guess I'm just a riddle, wrapped in a mystery, inside a bitch.”

three facts: 

1. I don’t like odd numbers and when my age is one--I assume it’s going to be a bad year.

2. I lived in NY for 20+ years and I don’t really think I ever heard anyone say ‘youse guys’ 

3. I think publicly hating characters or posting untagged character hate is stupid as shit.

EXPERIENCE:

how long (months/years?): 9 years on this hellsite. 15 overall. Though I wrote fan.fic before that.

how’d you start: Yahoo!Chat rooms

platforms you’ve used: Yahoo, MySpace, OneWorld, RPME, Sitemodel, Tumblr, Boards. 

worst experience: uh. Well I don’t know. I’ve had a lot of bad ones. People telling me on various platforms to unalive myself, a girl called me on the phone once and belittled me into writing smut on M.yspace, I had a partner who violently assaulted my character without asking me and I couldn’t protest until afterwards, so idk that’s just a few. I can’t say anything was ‘worse’ than another thing. But it was all..not great.

best experience:  My Adam Conant blog. I got...one weird/mean anon in the entire time I had him and it was just someone saying he was ‘weird’ lmao. I was like cool. I’m gonna write my diadam, jadam, and faye/adam and live in peace.

MUSE PREFERENCES:

female or male: I don’t really have a preference I guess? Sometimes I write more female aligned oc’s than canon and more male aligned muses than female when it comes to canons. But I don’t really prefer either way.

original or canon: I guess it depends on the day. But, I think I usually prefer to make original characters over canons in most cases? I dunno. 

favorite face:  keira knightley, chris evans, sebastian stan, bethany joy lenz,

least favorite face: no one that is really used for rp idt? mostly like fergie and molly sims. 

multi or single: It depends. I struggle sometimes bc I want a single blog. But then I try to run one and it flops because I pick the wrong muses to solo blog *laughing and crying emoji*

WRITING PREFERENCES:

fluff, angst or smut: fluff and angst are my preference. But I can do some smut too.

plots or memes: I mean I do like to plot quite a bit. But a meme is also good.

long or short replies:  i like longer replies. but short are good for when my brain is tiny. 

best time to write: Mid-day, night, or late night.

are you like your muse:  Not specifically like any of them. No. I share traits but that’s about it.

Stole this from an old blog.

[hunterbahamut]

Saying that 2021 was rough is kind of an understatement; it kinda feels like it ended up being worse that 2020.  I won't lie, but this year was pretty heavy on me and my mental state.  The constant quarantine and constantly trying to keep up on that gets tiresome, and I admit that I got very, very lonely. I miss getting a chance to meet with people in events like cons, and while I am grateful for  my friends online...well, it's just hard not to feel like this.

I lost my dog Niko this year, which...after the past six years, I miss the little guy so much.

I also feel like I haven't 'recovered' from Yark's passing.  It's been a year, but it still feels...not fresh, just...the absence is always present.

My art drive has been all over the place, and the past few months...if I'm completely honest, I dunno if I've felt so much self-doubt or self-loathing before.  Plus the garbage that are “NFTs” has really ruined my drive. And there's the ever constant jealousy, but...I've been trying to keep that in check...

It hasn't been all bad though, there has been some good, I have to admit.   I have gotten all three of my shots, so I want to keep up on that and, as tiresome as it does get.  I want to kick this whole thing to the curbside as much as possible.

I've started a new DnD campaign with some online friends and that has been pretty successful so far, and I'm so thankful for my friends who did want to join in on this, and I'm thankful that they've been patient with me.  I do not consider myself a good Dungeon Master at all, and I have plenty of doubt, but everyone has been having fun, so I'm doing something right.

While I feel like I haven't done a lot of art, the art I have done has been good, kinda surprising myself honestly.  The one I call “Lonely Time” is probably my favorite of the year.  I still have stuff I need to finish, both personal and commission, I just honestly hope I can find my drive again and soon.

I think a highlight was the fact that I actually completed my first ever charity stream for the Ashley Foster Scholarship fund.  While I feel like I didn't raise a lot, I am happy that we were able to help that along as much as we did.  I also want to thank JulieKarbon and Knave of Clubs for also doing streams as well to help with that.  It's great to have gotten a chance to help that along and remember Yark.

So...2022... I don't really like doing resolutions, but I do want to try and do better this year.  It's gonna be rough as ever, but...

I want to get my creative drive and motivation back.  I miss doing art and writings, and there is so much I still want to do.  Stuff like the DnD game have certainly helped with keeping me creative, but I want to get my love of art back and be less hard on myself if I can.

Taking better of myself is also something I like to do.  The past two years being stuck in place has not been fantastic and I really want to try and do better in some way.  I don't exactly feel comfortable going back to a gym yet, but there are some small things I can do to help with that.

There is a...big project I would love to try and work on, but I know that there is a lot of troubles I would need to figure out to make it work.  I never mentioned it publicly for a reason, and there is just a lot of unknowns I would need to figure out before committing, but if it's at all possible to do, I would love to get it done.

So...let's see what happens I guess. Hope for the best.

Thank you to everyone who's been with me throughout all of this.  I know I've not been my best, but the support really does mean a lot and I hope that I can improve more this new year.

Take care of yourselves ad be safe.

[nah-she-didnt]

Toujours Aimé

Read on AO3!

Four fifteen year olds, a bottle of fire whiskey, quill ink, and a sewing needle do not mix well together. 

**Disclaimer:** sitck and poke tattoos scare the shit out of me and I only vaguely know how they work, so kids, don’t try this at home! And definitely don’t let a fifteen year old dumbass (affectionate) sitck and poke you in the woods with only fire to sanitize... 

--

“OUCH!” James yelped dramatically. 

“Hold still!”

“I can’t! You lied, you said this wouldn’t hurt a bit!” 

“I said it wouldn’t hurt that bad, you big baby. I’m repeatedly stabbing you with a needle, of course it hurts!”

“I am not a baby! I just wasn’t properly prepared for the pain and suffering that I would have to endure for this.” 

Bemused, Remus shook his head. He was trying very hard not to laugh at his friend’s surprisingly low pain tolerance, for at this moment Remus was trying to keep his hand as still as a statue has he held the needle next to James’ skin. 

“It’s a stick and poke tattoo, James,” said Remus patiently, “the stick and poke part should have been a dead giveaway. Now, will you sit still so that I can finish this?”

James sighed, slumping back against the tree stump behind him. “Alright then, just hurry up. Muggles are mad, mad! I don’t know why I ever agreed to this in the first place!” 

“Because it looks badass,” smirked Sirius, “Admit it, you’re hoping Evans will swoon when she sees that snitch across your shoulder blade when you inevitably take your shirt off in the common room gain.”

James blushed furiously. “Shut it.”

“I don’t think Evans seems like a tattoo-girl,” said Peter thoughtfully, “she’s rather uptight, wouldn’t you say?” 

“Principled,” protested James, “she’s principled, not uptight.” 

“Yeah, and her first principle is that you are an absolute git.” 

“Shut it again.” 

Remus loved nights like this. There were only two weeks left in the summer holidays, and then they would start their fifth year at Hogwarts. The lads had gathered at The Potters’ house earlier that day to set off on a muggle camping trip. They’d hiked to the top of a wooded hill for about two hours before they found the perfect spot, set up camp, and ate overcooked sausages and lukewarm beans from tin cans as the sun set. They were currently sitting around the fire passing around a bottle of Ogden’s under the vast sea of stars above. 

Sirius had brought up a tattoo a lion that he’d seen on the forearm of a man in the muggle village they passed on their hike. Remus casually mentioned the process of how muggle tattoos were performed, and before he knew it the marauders were insisting that Remus tattoo them all there and now. Once he reluctantly revealed that he did indeed have a sewing needle in his camping pack the boys were decided. 

Remus paused his poking to observe his work. He was currently working on the outline of a snitch across James’ right shoulder blade. He was pleased to note that the tattoo looked rather realistic. Remus couldn’t help but be impressed with himself, he always had a knack for drawing. 

“Peter, distract me,” panted James, still shutting his eyes tight against the prick of Remus’ needle. “Have you decided on yours yet?” 

“How about a wheel of cheese?” Sirius said seriously, putting a finger to his chin as if deep in thought, “Or, perhaps Mickey Mouse, right across your left bum cheek. That will surely impress the ladies,” 

“Shove it,” barked Peter, looking annoyed. He was a bit sensitive about his animagi form and all cheese-related humor. “I thought about maybe the Hogwarts crest? Or a ‘G’ for ‘Gryffindor.” 

Remus shook his head. “It needs to be something personal to you, something with hidden significance. It should be something only you fully understand, but that those who are close to you can recognize and appreciate.” 

“Damn, Moony,” grinned Sirius, “that was deep.” 

“I have my moments,” Remus said, blushing slightly.

“Right, I’ve picked mine then!” cried Sirius, clapping his hands together for emphasis. 

“Go on, then,” James prompted.

Sirius paused for dramatic effect, then threw his arms into the air for emphasis. “It’s going to be a wolf howling at the moon!”

There was a moment of stunned silence. Remus’ needle lay limp in his hand as he let Sirius’ pronouncement sink in.

“A wolf... You mean like a....” James began cautiously, as if he wanted to be incorrect.

“Yeah, like Moony, get it?” Sirius beamed. “You know, because if we hadn’t met Moony and -- you know -- werewolf Moony, then we wouldn’t be the marauders that we are today!” His face was starting to falter now, as if he realized that this idea was not popular among the group at large. He frowned defensively. “The secret that really drew us together, the reason we did all that damn work to become animagi last year. Don’t you guys think that’s the perfect thing to commemorate?” 

Remus’ heart had sunk into his stomach. The idea of his secret, the horror that lived so close to his surface every day of his life, would be displayed so publicly was almost to much to bear. So too was the idea that he himself was asked to etch his greatest shame onto his best friend’s skin. 

“Mate, I don’t think that’s the best idea...” said James, a warning tone starting to grow in his voice, “maybe you should pick something else.” 

“No, listen,” Sirius implored, “It’s going to be so cool. It could be like, I dunno, howling at the moon, or running through the woods, or--” 

“Tearing itself apart, alone, in the shrieking shack?” Said Remus, his expression cool. 

No one spoke. For a few moments all that could be heard was the crackling of the campfire and the rustling of the trees in the night breeze. Remus did not take his eyes off of James’ skin as he finished the last of the snitch. 

“Look, Moony--” Sirius started, then seemed to catch himself, “Remus, that isn’t what I meant. But you’re right,” he looked panicked then, “you’re absolutely right, I shouldn’t have said that. Of course you wouldn’t want that, I was just being stupid. I only meant--” 

“I know,” said Remus quickly, “I know what you meant. Let’s just drop it, alright?”

Sirius gazed intently at Remus for a beat, then nodded, “Alright, we’ll drop it.”

The four boys sat in awkward silence, watching Remus finish James’ tattoo. Once he was done, he put down the needle and stretched. “Alright, mate, you’re all set. Sorry that I don’t have a lollipop to give you for being such a good boy.” 

“A what?” Asked James, flexing his right arm after over half an hour of sitting still. 

“Never mind. Alright, who’s next?” 

Peter and Sirius looked at each other. “I still haven’t thought of anything good,” shrugged Peter. 

Sirius looked into his lap. “Yeah, well, neither have I, obviously.” 

Remus sighed. This was certainly not how he’d hoped the night would go. He started to clean the dirty needle in the campfire flames. There is absolutely no way this is sanitary, he thought to himself, these better not get infected because if James has to go to St. Mungo’s for ink poisoning his mum will murder me.

“What about Sirius?” asked James.

“What about me?” 

“No, git, what about ‘Sirius’ the star? What if you got the constellation, what’s it called again? Anus Major?”

“Canis Major,” corrected Sirius quickly, “I dunno, I suppose that could be good. But it’ll just remind me of my dear old mum and dad, and my family’s insane obsession with stars as family names.” 

“How about a beater’s bat?” suggested Peter hopefully.

“Seems a bit obvious,” shrugged Sirius. “I need something obscure, something that has meaning.” 

“Toujours aimé“ whispered Remus. 

The boys looked up. “What?” asked James. 

Remus lifted his head and looked Sirius straight in the eye. “Toujours aimé, french for ‘always loved.’ You know, a spin on that ‘toujours pur’ ‘always pure’ nonsense.” 

Sirius looked dumbfounded. He sat staring at Remus with glassy eyes as something in his head seemed to click. He then smiled wider than he had all evening.

“My god, Moony, that’s it! It’s wicked cool, a big ol’ ‘fuck you’ to mum and dad, and it’ll look great on.” Sirius hurried quickly over to take James’ place next to Remus. He rolled up his sleeve and pointed to his forearm. “I want it right along here, along my left forearm. So they’ll know there’s no room for the dark mark they surely want to put there.” 

Remus smiled at his friend’s conviction. Sirius was ever the Gryffindor. 

---

Several hours later Remus lay wide awake staring at the roof of the tent. He’d tattooed ‘Toujours Aimé’ down Sirius’ left arm as requested. He’d chosen a simple yet elegant cursive for the font, and shaded the letters so that they seemed to pop against his soft skin. Remus shook his head vigorously. He had to stop thinking about how soft his best mate’s skin was. Or how his forearm muscles clenched as Remus stuck the needle into his skin over and over again. How Sirius would wince at the pain, sucking in a sharp breath so close to Remus’ ear--

“Remus?”

Remus started out of his memory. Sirius was sitting up on his elbows, looking at him from across the snoring forms of James and Peter. 

“Yeah?” 

“Are you awake?”

“Nope, just a perceptive sleep talker.” 

“Ha. Well, I can’t sleep with these trolls. Fancy a walk?”

Remus nodded, taking care not to kick Peter in the head as he pulled on his long pants before stepping through the tent flap into the cool night air. He and Sirius fell into an easy step next to one another as they made their way back to the campfire. A few small embers still glowed in the hearth. 

Sirius looked intently at Remus. “Remus, mate, I have to say again how sorry I am. That must have been awful for you, the idea that I would put you on display like that. That I could risk your secret. I shouldn’t have said it, I just got caught up in the excitement. You know, everything we’ve achieved and everything we’ve done together. I never knew that friends like you lot were possible growing up. I still can’t believe sometimes how lucky I got when I met you... you know, uh, all of you,” Sirius corrected himself. 

Remus nodded as Sirius talked and waited until he was sure that Sirius had finished his apology. He was trying very hard not to make eye contact with Sirius for he was sure that his eyes would display the emotion he felt at Sirius’ words. He, too, had never known that friendship like this was possible. Remus had spent so much of his childhood completely without the company of anyone who could be considered a true friend. The day he’d met the marauders had changed his life. He understood completely Sirius’ hunger to brand himself with the connection they’d all forged. Finally, he smiled, looking back into Sirius’ face.

“I know all of that, mate. I know exactly how it feels. My life completely changed the day I met you -- and James and Pete, of course. I know you don’t see me as the wolf. It just throws me off, you know, every time I remember that you all know that part of me. I hate that you have to know that part,” he spat bitterly. 

Sirius put his hand on Remus’ knee. “I love that part of you. I love every part of you, Moony. You’re my best mate.” 

Remus smiled, suddenly embarrassed. “Come on, mate, be serious,” 

“I am Sirius.”

“I really walked into that one, didn’t I?” 

“Prat,” Sirius grinned.

Remus took a deep breath. “You know, that’s why I suggested ‘always loved.’ Because your parents and their mania aren’t what matter most to you. You know you would die for your friends, and that they would die for you, because the love you. Because we do, you know, love you.” 

Sirius looked into the fire now, nodding slightly at Remus’ words. Remus was sure that he could see tears forming in his friend’s eyes. Sirius sniffed loudly and slapped Remus’ knee with the hand that still lay there. 

“Come on, enough of this sappy nonsense. What say we finish off the rest of the Ogden’s and go to bed? We’ll surely have a long day of listening to James whine about his tattoo hurting all the way home tomorrow.” 

--

An hour later, when he was back in his sleeping bag, staring up at the ceiling again, Remus couldn’t help but think how lucky he was to have his friends. They could have so easily denied him when they found out who he was, but instead they changed their whole lives for him. He felt his chest swell with emotion at the thought of all they’d done for him, the thought that they’d achieved the impossible for him... the thought that less than an hour ago Sirius had his hand on his knee.

Remus groaned quietly, rolling over to stuff his face into his pillow. He clearly had much bigger problems on the horizon than whether or not James got ink poisoning. f

[popculturebuffet]

DWD Reviews: A Brush with Oblivion Or Is Everyone Blind and Stupid? (Commission by WeirdKev27)

Well this was a mixed bag if I ever saw one. Taking a break from the Ride, since Kev commissioned this during my still going black friday sale, seriously 3 bucks for episode commissions get after it, I thought this would be pretty good.. good villain with a good gimmick. Could be intresting. I didn’t count on EVERYONE but Honker, Gosalyn and Splatter Phoenix themselves daring to be stupid. I mean my god in god we trust, this one was frustrating. I WANTED to like it for it’s brilliant qualities but the main plot is so frustrating, Let’s discuss shall we? First off WHY Kev commissioned this one. He was waiting till I did Quackerjack and Bushroot but he decided to do it early because sale prices. See this is a BONUS chapter in “March to Justice Ducks”. It’s very thinly associated with it, but honestly had I had the idea myself I would’ve gladly done this and I thank Kev for it. See Tad Stones regretted putting Negaduck in the fearsome five. It’s not that Negs is a bad character.. it’s the opposite. Being such a dynamic and interesting one.. meant he overshadowed the other four to the point they didn’t get as much of a chance to shine. So in hindsight, had he had the chance to do it all over again he would’ve put Splatter Phoenix here in there instead. And I’m incllined to agree: as the comics show, Quackerjack could’ve been the leader easy and if not him Megavolt, but neither would’ve overpowered the others. That being said the five we did get are great, and the dynamic is fine, but I can’t fault him for wanting them to be equals instead of minons. 

And honestly , and getting to one of the episodes strengths, Splatter Phoenix IS a thoroughly awesome villain with a unique and interesting power. In short she’s an experimental artist who through her experimenting, created a paint brush that can bring paintings to life and control them as well as allow her to travel in and out of them. She’s voiced here by  Dani Staahl, who i’ve never heard of but is terrific. And shockingly, she’s voiced by a rather sizeable voice next time with Andrea Martin of SCTV fame. And if your wondering if i’m going to cover her other appearance you are extremely correct, just probably further down the line or for another commission.  But her powers are used REALLY creatively by the episode, having her and Darkwing and Co run through various abstract art I can’t really name outside of the salvador dahli piece at the end because I don’t know art. That being said, it still looks utterly gorgeous and while I can’t name most of the pieces or the artists behind them, the wiki does say most are pastiches. They are recognizable though and it does look utterly stunning from a cubist piece to the dahli finale to Gosalyn’s dinosaur picture seen above. Each style is unique, crisp and beautifully animated and they and splatter are the saving grace of the episode. These sequences are some of the best i’ve seen from the show and, especially for a low budget 90′s kids show even a disney one, are REALLY impressive and would be even today. And her attidue helps. While her gimmick is simple, she talks in intellectual art speak most of the time, it’s funny enough to enjoy. Plus, it weirdly does things for me and I don’t know how to respond to that so let’s move on. 

My shame aside, you may be wondering two things then: Why I don’t like this episode, and why i’m not covering it my usual style. Well the answer to both is otherwise.. this episode is REALLY damn obnoxious. Splatter takes up enough to make it watchable.. but the main spine of the episode not only pisses me off in a very specific way, as it follows a story trope I CANNOT stand, but in a general way it’s just frustrating and REALLY dumb.  The basic premise is it’s children’s art night at the musem, with the kids various paintings being displayed, so naturally The Mallards and the Muddlefoots are both there, with Honker having painted a painting within a painting and Gosalyn having painted a horrifing but neat dinosaur piece. It’s then.. the plot starts and my patience evaporates. Honker spots Splatter in a painting and spots her comit a theft but no one belivies him. They belivie it wasn’t him, because he dosen’t have the target on him, but his parents think he’s making stuff up and so does Drake. Or in other words...

I mean.. nothing about this works. I’d get skepticism in a normal setting, and this was produced earlier in the series though as for where your guess is as good as mine, but.. this is a world where appliances were brought to life, a water dog publicly ransomed the cities water suply, and and an evil toymaker raised hell, not to mention the bat based pizza theft. A woman running in and out of a painting SHOULD NOT be that farfetched but no everyone just assumes the kid is lying and dosen’t bother asking why. Including Drake.. everyone else.. fine, Herb’s a moron and we’ll get to him in a second. But Drake has fought so much weird shit at this point, you’d THINK he’d think it was a supervillian and not just honker lying.  You’d think but no. Thankfully he finds out pretty quick, so he’s more tolerable but it still hurts my head that he’s this stubborn. 

But as I just hinted at.. Herb and Binkie are worse as they repeadtly think their son is a liar and ground him over it... even though they KNOW Honker dosen’t lie, Gosalyn admits he can’t and admits she’s failed to teach him, and then instead of you know believing their kid, blame Gos for it, which amount's to absolutley nothing so why have this plot point! All it did was make me hate herb as much as Drake does.. I mean if he’s this terrible a parent and this dense that rather than believe his own kid didn’t do the impossible or wasn’t covering for a thief that his friend taught him how to lie, no wonder Drake can’t stand him. The voice dosen’t help, as normally it’s tolerable but it’s extra loud and extra insufferable this episode. It just makes already insufferable scnees worse. 

But the crowner for moron of this episode is the curator, who repadtly, when seeing Honker there, blames him for the thefts, and at one point when he tries to enter a painting HAS A CHILD ARRESTED. He has a small child, who couldn’t of possibly taken any of this.. arrested. Now granted one of the paintings is destroyed.. but the can wasn’t left behind by splatter phoenix. So he had a 10 year old arrested... on charges of propety destrictuion? What.. why would he do this? WHy would his parents belivie this/ WHY. it’s agonizingly dumb. It hurts.. it hurts and I understandably didn’t want to go on loop with this asshole. But that’s what the episode feels like and it only gets broken because Splatter outright tells the curator so she can ransom mona lisa’s mouth! GAH. 

But yeah that’s our big setpiece,  as Splatter carriers mona’s annoying mouth around through some cool set pieces. We also get a neat bit earlier of Gosalyn stuck in a piccaso, which looks really damn neat and also really painful. And apparently she can leave because drake enters? I dunno, it’s not the dumbest thing about this episode. We do get the curator catching Darkwing tryign to take the painting.. which not only has him actually blamed with a crime resonably for the first time since the pilot, but is clever and gets a good line out of the deal.  And that brings me to another reason the episode is so frustrating: so much of the plot is just dropped threads. The Waddlemeyers don’t want honker around gosalyn. Goes nowhere. Gosalyn is trapped in a painting,. Resolved pretty easily. Darkwing might take the fall for this GOES NOWHERE. MY SANITY. GOES AWAY. 

Finally.. I just don’t like this stock plot. The “Character is telling the truth but no one belivies them”. it CAN be done well. Amphibia did this plot well in season 1 and Gravity Falls used it well as it was revealed Stan DOES know, he just was playing dumb. It can be done right.. it’s just more often than not a kid is put through hell for something they have on control over by some asshole adult or some other kid. or an adult is put through it. I’ve never enjoyed this sort of Michigan J Frog bullshit, and never will. And here it’s an innocent, honest, good kid being sent to JAIL breifly for .. telling the truth. With no reward. Just nope episode over. fuck this episode. 

So before we wrap, the finale, which again is pretty good. Honker finds one of Splatter’s brushes, uses it to restore Darking and Co and it’s pretty cleve.r. then it gets dumb again with Darkwing escorting pheonix away and the muddlefoots finally beliving their son after mona lisa’s smile tells them he isn’t a liar.. okay whatever we’re done. 

FINAL. THOUGHTS. 

This episode is split down the middle :It’s half a good episode, wtih great sequences, great jokes and great use of classic art.. and half GOD MAKE IT STOP AGGRIVATION. It’s easily the worst darkwing i’ve seen so far, and yet SITLL has stuff worth watching it for. The painting sequences are still some of the shows best.. it’s jsut saddled with a plot I hate and that aggrivates me. This was not good, and i’ve seen much better and hopefully Splatter’s other appearance is less aggravating. we will see eventually. Till then, there’s always another rainbow. 

[dzamie-oc]

Smaugust 06 - Magma

A human wants to accompany his dragon girlfriends on their magma-diving outings, but they don't think he's ready. Yet.

Lily glanced at the clock. "Oh, Verrea," the blue dragoness said, pointing at the hanging timepiece, "it's past two. We'd best get going if we want to return before sundown."

With mumbles of affirmation, her friend in green scales rose and stretched her wings. "C'mon, L, I usually get my trips in three hours."

"I suspect you wouldn't if I stopped letting you eat my rubies." She looked to their other partner, a human named Ben, and gave a sheepish smile full of sharp teeth. "Sorry, forgot to tell you. We should be back for dinner, though."

Ben looked up from his game of virtual alchemy to give the dragons a thumbs-up. "Sure thing, you two. Where are you girls headed?"

"Volcano," Verrea replied casually, "looking for gems. They grow fastest at the bottom."

The blue dragon rolled her golden eyes and huffed, a wisp of smoke trailing from her nostrils. Ben watched it rise and dissipate, hoping that it wouldn't set off the smoke alarm - fortunately, it didn't. "It's not a volcano!" she admonished, "Mount Ternen is a mountain with a volcanic flow inside it."

"Magma stream."

"Lava," Lily corrected.

"It's magma if you go down far enough," Verrea shot back with a grin and a playful flick of her bladed tail. This earned her a forked tongue being poked out at her, to which she retaliated by tapping her muzzle against Lily's.

"Oh, that sounds cool," Ben remarked ("more like hot," said Verrea), "can I come with?"

The dragonesses both shook their heads. "Sorry, Ben, far too dangerous. More a dragon thing, anyway."

"Eh, alright. Have fun you two." He waved at them, letting his gaze linger as the green dragon teased him with a flick of her tail, then tried to get back to his game. But no matter what, he kept thinking about his friends swimming through molten rock. So he gave in and searched for information on Mount Ternan, looking at maps and photos. Sure enough, the maps he found all had a section labeled something along the lines of "closed to tourists," "staff/experienced cave delvers only," or, frankly enough, "lava past here." He printed out one of the more detailed maps of the area and checked for any tours of the caverns... so that, of course, he could avoid them.

Phase one complete.

---

The next day, he was looking at the map over breakfast when Verrea walked up behind him and laid her chin over his shoulder. "Whatcha got there, Ben?" she asked, her breath smelling of bacon and... well, mostly more bacon.

He reached his arm up to pat her head. "Oh, you girls got me thinking about that mountain. I don't think I've been there, and it's only half an hour drive or so, so I figure I would go and walk around. Look at the stalactites, stalagmites, and stuff."

"Hey, that's cool. It's pretty pretty in there, at least for dragons. Dunno what it's like with human vision, of course." The dragoness grinned, Ben catching the glint of her fangs in the corner of his eye, and continued, "hey, if you want something extra to do there, see if you can figure out which stalagmite I use to get off when I visit?"

"Wh-what?"

"She's messing with you," Lily chimed in from across the table. She sent the last of the sausages on her plate to their demise before carefully picking up the plate in her mouth and carrying it to the sink. "And even if she wasn't, she's hopefully not stupid enough to do it anywhere a tour could see her."

Verrea departed from Ben's shoulder to brush her wing against Lily. "So far as you know. The imminent danger of being found out is part of the fun!" she purred, before winking at them, "but no, I didn't. Dirty rocks where who knows how many other dragons and humans could further mess with it? I treat my body well; give me a nice tongue or dick any day of the week. Well, maybe not today, since you're doing stuff. Though, Lily..."

"I JUST ate," the blue dragoness replied. Ben excused himself from the table to get ready and not let on how much Verrea's casual teasing had affected him. A few minutes later, the scaly pair waved goodbye to him as Lily settled down in front of the television, controller in paw, and Verrea sprawled over the couch.

---

"...and as we come down here, you'll see a really cool formation. Us tour guides, we call it the snowman, on account of, well, it looks like a snowman. There it is. See the body, and the head?..." The tour guide's voice faded out as the last of the group walked out of sight around a column. Ben looked around him. Nobody in sight. Moving quickly, he stepped over the chain rope marking the path, and strode swiftly into the dark tunnel beyond. He kept careful track of how many steps he was taking, marking them down on a makeshift map of the... less than publicly available section of the caverns. A wide flashlight beam kept him from stumbling over rough parts of the floor or falling into parts where the floor simply stopped existing as much.

As he pressed on, further into the dark cave, he realized the temperature was rather quickly climbing. What began as rather cool, somewhat stale air had soon become midsummer temperatures, with no sign of stopping. Before long, he was forced to turn back before he dehydrated from sweating. His map proved quite excellent for his purposes, and he was soon able to see the lit part of the caverns. He shut off his flashlight, and waited until he was sure no other tour groups or wayward tourists were around before scurrying back to safety. As he made his way back to the mouth of the tunnel, two conflicting emotions dominated: he could probably do it with some help, and how could he be so dumb as to forget that magma was over 500 degrees Celsius. Well, either way...

Phase two located.

---

Ben lay amidst a tangle of limbs and scales. Lily was purring hardest, Verrea having elected to simply pass out. "Alright, I'll give you that," the blue dragoness said, "that crystal you got is more than a little overkill, but powers excellent heat resistance potions. Good luck convincing Verrea to lay with you without expressing herself in fire again." She nuzzled the human. "Not that I'll be all that much easier, of course."

The human stroked her neck, pressing his fingers in just the right way to get her to coo and nuzzle in against him. "I'm just glad it worked so well. You'd think she'd try the effect out on my hand or something, first, not my dick. And you're not so innocent there, either, miss 'oh good you can handle my deep internal temperature.'"

Lily flopped her head over and gave him the most innocent stare she could muster. "What? You knew I like my throat played with. Just because she's more open about it doesn't mean I can't be a weird dragon with weird dragon kinks."

"Still. My entire arm? I was half-worried you were going to see if you could deepthroat the rest of me, too." He booped her snout; she poked out her forked tongue.

"Aww, you think I'd be able to do that?"

"Yes."

She nuzzled her snout into his neck and flicked her tongue at the sensitive spots. "Good boy~"

They lay in silence for a few minutes before Lily tapped her paw on him. "By the way, magma is roughly twice as dense as honey, and therefore much, much slower to move in than water, so we have to manage our air well when we dive. Or use magic."

Ben felt his heart rate jump. "Uh... why do you mention that, Lily?"

She gently nipped at his neck, teasing him with sharp fangs that never broke skin. "Call it draconic intuition. And, I'm not sure if you picked up on this, but I do like having you alive rather than paying for the mistakes of a lack of research."

"Well... thanks, then. I'll take those into account."

Lily resumed purring, her legs and Verrea's holding him securely between and under them. "Very good boy."

---

A few days later, Ben was watching some speedruns on their TV screen with a blue, scaly pillow and a green, scaly blanket. He could feel Lily's muscles tense under his head as the race they were spectating entered the last level with barely two seconds difference between first and last place. And while he wasn't looking at their girlfriend, he figured she was more watching the two of them rather than the screen.

"Oh, wow, all of them got first try on that wallclip," he remarked. A quick glance to Verrea confirmed that Lily had started tapping her tail rapidly against the green dragon.

"I think upper-right got the best of that speed rule. Gap's closing," Lily said as the goal drew into sight.

Scant seconds later, the results were in. Ben's head sank into Lily's side as she relaxed and exhaled.

"Hey, speaking of time," Verrea spoke up, "isn't two the time you were shooting for, L?" And just like that, a bit of tension was there again. Ben and Verrea got up to let the blue dragoness out, and the green soon joined her.

"Mount Ternen again?" Ben asked, getting nods in response, "Can I come along this time? I finally got all the stuff needed to join you two."

Lily shook her head. "Sorry, Ben. We'd love to take you along, but still not yet."

Ben quirked an eyebrow at her. "Still? What am I missing?"

"It's... hard to say, really," Verrea chipped in, "it's like a thing about dragon stuff. Physical and mental, and you don't have it. But hey, you're doing better. And if nothing else, you got us some fun toys for the bedroom."

A blue muzzle tapped a green one. "I love you, Verrea, but do you ever think about anything else?"

"Of course I do! You think I'm that one-track-mind?" she scoffed, "there's so many other places I can fuck you two. Kitchen, living room, a few thousand feet up..."

"I... may have to take you up on that last one, if we can figure out a harness..." Ben said, successfully distracted.

"Mm. Keep it in mind, cutie! Back for dinner!" Verrea waved goodbye with her tail as the two dragonesses left.

---

"Hey, Verrea. It's been a couple weeks. Wanna head out?"

"Sure, I'm running low on smoky quartzes."

Ben got up and grabbed the magical tools he'd acquired about three weeks prior, before they'd previously refused him. Lily watched him.

"Ben-"

"I'm coming." he stated. The two dragons looked at each other for a second, then smiled.

"You sure are. Riding or driving?" Lily asked, ignoring a "phrasing" from Verrea.

"Driving." Ben looked at them. "Was that really all?"

Verrea grinned. "Dragon thing needs dragon mind. Welcome aboard, honorary dragon."

[looselucy]

Guilt

July 15th “I don’t really remember the first time I started work on the Blood Sun.” Styles tells us, sitting in his quiet New York gallery whilst sipping slowly on a glass of wine, a deep red. “I don’t know if I’ve blocked it out. I know it started with the idea of thunder and lightning, but it veered from that pretty quickly. I had an idea what I wanted from the painting emotionally. I don’t know if I got that with the end product, but I knew I couldn’t get that from thunder. It had to be a sun.”

I was sat in PJ’s in silence, scrolling through a relatively recent article about Harry on my phone as I waited for my breakfast. I had always tried to avoid going online to read about him, because I knew whatever I saw was likely to be monitored and watered down, not even by those reporting on him, but by Harry himself. He was never going to share intimate truths so publicly, so there was nothing real for me to learn, but it had been so much harder to avoid since he’d sent me the painting. I wanted to know what he’d said about it, if he’d mentioned anything about selling it or not. I needed to know everything I could. Styles must be bored of answering questions about his most celebrated work at this point, but it is by far his most intriguing. Not only is the painting spectacular, with stunning mixes of oranges, yellows, and the artists own blood, but it’s a piece he seems to be refusing to sell – no matter how high the offer. “I don’t make art for it to be sold. I make art to express. If selling was the reason I painted, I would have given this up a long time ago. I never saw that as a reason to paint, it was always to do with the feeling, the emotion. I guess the therapeutic side of it, too. I’m not going to sell a piece for the sake of it.” I should have known he would have started painting again when he’d left, but that seemed like confirmation, what with him saying he would have given it up. I didn’t know how to feel about it. Of course I wanted him to continue with his passion, work in a way that showed his talents, made his life beyond comfortable, but it was what came with his painting that made me uneasy. I hadn’t seen anything expressing that he no longer used blood, and I thought that would have be a focal point had it been the case. I cursed his agent, leaping viciously to the conclusion that it was him who kept Harry in the frame of mind, convinced him that he had to paint with blood or people would lose interest. I was sure of it. I took a deep breath in and continued. “That painting means more to me than any number, I don’t think I’ll ever sell it, per se. I’m not even accepting offers anymore.” I question if his new work that he will soon reveal is a way of distracting people from the painting, moving on. “Partially.” He admits. “But it’s also a new time for me. It’s new work, paintings I’m really excited to share. I’m looking forward to seeing how I end up feeling about all this new stuff. What I want to sell, what I don’t. We’ll see.” What Harry has managed to achieve with his art is remarkable. It’s not merely the power of his paintings, something that is preposterously palpable if you’re lucky enough to be in the same room as one. And it’s not limited to the success he’s had, the respect he’s received from his peers ever since he was granted a scholarship when he was still a teenager. It’s the emotions that his work inspires. He is quiet, but with purpose. He doesn’t talk about the inspiration behind each of his pieces, what makes him paint – instead, he throws you in head first to figure it out alone. You are never told what to see or how to feel, every brush of paint open to interpretation. Styles never ties you to the idea of what his work should be, instead his art is open, free of chains, exposing you to the truth of your own emotions rather than lumbering you with the truth of his. There is something magic in his secrecy that allows you to feel personally connected to his work, your feelings valid. In his less is more approach, you are left feeling as much a part of his art as he is. He connects with his consumer by saying so little, a truly impressive feat. Harry Styles is not ours to know, but his masterpieces are, and that’s exactly why our relationship with this extraordinary artist works. Reaching the end of the article, I locked my phone, leaning back in my chair and taking a deep breath inward, the words resting heavily on my chest. It wasn’t even necessarily what they’d been saying in the write-up, not really, it was more the strange sensation of reading about him that way at all. The Blood Sun was still sitting where I had found it. I didn’t know what I was supposed to do with it, I didn’t even have the space in my flat, not that I thought it would even get through the door. It was almost as though I didn’t dare move it, fear of damaging it, fear of admitting it was mine to damage. It had been almost a fortnight since I’d received it, touched it for the first time, breathed it in, but it hadn’t moved and inch and I was still perfectly clueless. I’d cried that night when I’d got home. Once we were back on the shop floor, I’d managed to get through most of the day at work without talking about it, without really even thinking about it, but the second I closed my front door, I burst into tears. I stood at the bottom of the stairs and just allowed myself to completely shatter, freeing whatever emotion had felt so imprisoned. I hadn’t really stopped thinking about him since, slowly driving myself insane with wild thoughts of the boy I’d once known, the boy who’d left my life and then re-entered it in the most spectacular and elaborate way. I didn’t want to think about him because it didn’t help. Even with him sending me that painting, it didn’t give me any leads, any answers; I still felt entirely powerless. But what was playing on my mind relentlessly was the knowledge that he had been thinking of me. Since he had departed from my life, I’d managed to convince myself that he no longer thought of me at all, that I would never cross his mind. I had been sure he was simply getting on with his life and I had become a hazy memory of his, another girl he had once been with for a few months of his life, another mistake. It was one of the things that had helped me to get over him, to know I wasn’t even beneath his skin enough for him to have dig me out. I told myself that I’d barely scratched the surface. Him sending me that painting made me feel differently. To know he had sat and thought of me, gone out of his way to make sure I became the owner of his most personal work. He wouldn’t have done something so grand on a whim, meaning without doubt that I had been playing on his mind. I wondered how he felt when he thought of me. I wondered what emotions I might stir. I hoped they were positive, and judging by the nature of his gesture they may well have been, but then again maybe his feelings towards me were as complex as mine towards him. Some days I’d think of him and feel happy, grateful we had what we did, that I experienced love in its truest form, even though it wasn’t reciprocated. I had loved him, and I was fortunate to have been able to feel that way about someone who so rarely let people into his life. Yet other days, the thought of us produced anger. Others, upset. Others, longing. It seemed impossible to look back on something so formidable with limited and lax emotions. I knew I wouldn’t find the answers to any of my questions in any article, but it was the only option I had. “Here we are.” Paula approached cheerily, placing my Eggs Benedict down in front of me. “Do you want me to top your coffee up?” “Please.” I sighed as she started pouring the dark liquid from the old-fashioned compressor into my mug. “You look knackered.” She sounded concerned. “Everything okay?” “Couldn’t really sleep.” I looked up to her. “Think I’ve only had a couple of hours.” “Any reason?” “Um… Dunno. I don’t think so. My minds just been working overtime recently. I can’t seem to shut off.” I hadn’t been sleeping well for what I felt was a variety of reasons. No matter how much I tried, how tired I was, it was like I’d get into bed and my head would just start spinning, conjuring up all these questions and ideas and worries that simply didn’t allow me to drift off. And the longer that lasted the worse it got, gradually becoming alarmingly aware that I should have been fast asleep. I’d start counting how many minutes and hours it would be until I had to get up and face another day on so little sleep, tossing and turning and losing my mind. That morning, I must have only drifted off at around 4AM, and yet still I awoke just before 7AM, and I couldn’t get back to sleep. That was why I’d headed to PJ’s, getting in a good meal and an abundance of coffee before I opened the shop for the day. “How longs that been going on?” “Couple’a weeks.” I tried to shrug it off. “It’s nothing, really. M’fine.” “Alright.” She griped, unsure. “I’ll always have free coffee here for you, if you need it.” “Thanks, Paula.” She squeezed my shoulder encouragingly before getting back to work, leaving me to tuck into my meal and pray that the coffee would be enough to see me through the day, because the amount of sleep I’d had certainly wasn’t enough on its own. I was only a few mouthfuls into my first meal of the day when the front door to PJ’s opened, my eyes instinctively lifting upwards to see who’d walked in. It was Chloe and Sam. Though things were okay between the three of us, it still felt awkward then. It was early, there was only one other person there, an old bloke who was sat in the corner keeping himself to himself. It was like it was just the three of us, which made for a rather uncomfortable atmosphere. There was no anger there, no hatred, but that didn’t mean we were at ease. “Hey.” I smiled to them both after swallowing my food, grateful I hadn’t started choking on it the second they’d walked through the door. “Hiya.” Sam greeted, straightening his back out. “Hi.” Chloe barely whispered. I felt bad for her, in some ways. She had never quite figured out how to be around me, weighed down by her guilt even though she shouldn’t have been, and I’d expressed that to her more than once. They shuffled past me, going over to the counter to order some food, whispering between themselves. It was so stupidly awkward, so much worse than it should have been. They’d been together for well over a year at that point, it shouldn’t have been that bad! I sat thinking to myself, knowing it was likely that the reason it was so bad was because we’d let it be. We hadn’t put the effort in to make sure we were all okay with each other, we hadn’t put the effort in and gone out of our way to avoid the awkwardness of our affiliations. We had to get past it. I took another bite, regretting my decision before I’d even voiced my thoughts but I knew what I wanted to do, and as long as I’d put the effort in, that was the best I could do. Once I’d heard that they’d finished ordering, I turned around, closing my eyes and blurting it out. “Do you wanna sit with me?” I opened my eyes to find them both looking at me like I’d gone mad. They were probably right. “Are you… I… Wh-what?” Sam blundered. “Do you wanna… sit… with me?” I said again. “We could just… y’know… talk, or whatever.” “Are you serious?” Chloe dazzled, dumbstruck and emotional. “Have we… done something wrong?” Sam asked me. “No! Nothing, I just… I can’t stand this.” I exhaled. “I hate being this awkward with you both, we need to push past it. So would you just… fucking sit down so we can get over ourselves and just be normal? We’re too old for this bullshit.” Sam just looked amused, sniggering to himself as he sat down on one of the chairs across from me, Chloe following close behind. She was different. She looked as though she could burst into tears at any moment. She sat down, biting her lip to hold back tears as Sam dove straight in with questions, asking about me, about my dad, updating me on how his mum was. I kept catching her from the corner of my eye and she wasn’t settling. She couldn’t ease at all. It was clear she still struggled, with all of it. It was hard for her to sit there with a friend she’d lost, knowing it had happened because of choices she had made. I knew that was why she got upset when she was around me. There’s nothing quite like love, the power it holds over you. I had to be conscious of the reasons why she chose Sam, even when that meant losing her friends. When love is that strong, it doesn’t care about anyone else, who it hurts, what it breaks. When love is that strong, it’s a force to be reckoned with, its pawns powerless to its forces. I’d seen throughout my life that most people would do anything to save love, to keep it in their hearts for as long as possible, whatever the cost. It might have seemed odd, the abundance of sacrifices she’d had to make just to be with him, but their love had told her to do that, to fight for him. I hoped he was worth it. I hoped that every loss paled when she looked at him, when that love took over. The only problem was that when she was around us, and me specifically, it didn’t feel that easy. She’d get upset, she’d realise how much she missed us, how much she missed how things had been. She hadn’t just lost me when her and Sam had gotten together, it had slowly picked a lot of her friends out of her life, but it centred around me. It was so difficult to admit that we’d never be the same again. It was gutting to come to terms with the fact that we’d lost something so good. My only comfort was knowing that she’d gained from it in some way or another. That morning with her was a quiet one, conversation mainly being held between Sam and I as she put most of her energy into holding herself together, not breaking, reminding herself of the reasons things had changed so much. But as far as I was concerned, anything was better than how we had been for the past year or so. Anything was an improvement.

“Here she is!” Niall yelled when I stepped into The Tin Mouse that evening, everyone greeting me cheerily; all except Lin, who didn’t really do anything, staring blankly at me as I cautiously approached the table. I was feeling rather anxious, my hands dug into the pockets of my denim jacket, pressing my lips together tightly. I didn’t really want to be there, to be honest. “Hi.” I just about smiled, taking a deep breath inward before I spoke. “Shall I get a round in?” Quite purposefully, I’d been running rather late, meaning they were all at the end of their drinks by the time I got there. They put in their requests quickly, all rather distracted and chirpy, meaning it took longer than it should have. Lin still hadn’t said a word by the time I was heading over to the bar, but I knew he’d grab at his opportunity. I’d only just put in the large order when I noticed him leap up to his feet and storm over to me, his voice leaden and irked when he spoke. “Why’ve you been ignoring me?” “I haven’t.” I protested. “Well, that’s fucking weird, because you haven’t answered any of my calls or my texts. You didn’t come to watch the match on Monday, you haven’t been at the pub.” He was angry, and I was fighting tears. “Don’t treat me like a fucking idiot, Alf, I know what’s going on.” I hadn’t meant to avoid him. I didn’t want to create an atmosphere. I didn’t want him to be angry with me. I didn’t want a lot of things that had come into fruition of late. What I had wanted, was to continue being honest and upfront with him, but receiving that painting and that note from Harry had somehow made everything with Lin feel twice as difficult. Because I knew it had to end. It had been hard enough to admit to him that I wasn’t sure on my feelings and what was happening between us, so it would have been even harder to be blunt and really end things, to tell him that I could finally make sense of the mess in my own mind. I knew it wasn’t right, that’s what my head was telling me, that’s what my gut was telling me. That’s what my heart was telling me. I just didn’t know how I was supposed to tell him. He waited for me to say something, my throat dry and tight as I tried to figure it out. “Please don’t be mad at me.” I whispered. “I don’t want to be mad at you, Alfie, I’m just frustrated!” He whelped. “Because if I knew asking you out would have led to this, I wouldn’t have fucking done it. I don’t think you understand how much I don’t wanna lose you, Alf! I can’t!” I looked right past him, staring over his shoulder and concentrating on the back door that would lead out to the beer garden, because looking in his eyes summoned too many emotions, ones I couldn’t supress. He made being opaque sound so easy, like it wouldn’t involve hurting his feelings and choking up over every single wrong word. I didn’t know how to handle it, what I should or shouldn’t say, and I certainly didn’t want to tell Lin that the main thing that had driven me away from even thinking about him in a romantic way was the delivery of a fucking painting. “Don’t avoid me, please!” He went on. “Just be honest. I can take it.” “It’s not as easy as that.” “It is! I’m telling you, it is! Because by not saying it, you’re saying it anyway. So, you might as well bite the bullet.” He sighed, wound his jaw. “Put me out of my misery. Please.” He just wanted it to be over, maybe even more than I did, but for different reasons. We were both in agony for different reasons and it needed to end. “I don’t wanna do this here.” I started to cry. I felt like all I did was fucking cry. “Fuck, don’t get upset. Oh shit. I don’t want you to feel guilty or sad, please don’t cry. If it’s not right, then it’s not.” He reached to grab my hand, pulling it away from my face as I tried to hide my tears. “You’ve just gotta be honest with me about it. I knew I was running a risk when I asked you, I just wanna be kept in the loop!” “Lin, it’s not that easy!” I wept. “I care about you so much and I didn’t wanna hurt your feelings. And I’ve had such a shit couple of weeks. I’ve been so sad and-” “That’s… the opposite of how I want you to feel!” He wailed. “C’mere. Wipe those bloody tears away, eh? I don’t wanna see you sad. Don’t be sad, not for my sake.” He held my cheeks steadily in his hands, wiping his thumbs beneath my eyes to dry my tears on my behalf, shaking his head like I was being silly, which made me laugh. He was good at that. It was obvious he was irritated with how I’d handled things since our date, but he was still trying to keep things sweet between us in any way he could, whilst also getting his point across. I sucked it up as much as I could as he wiped away a few more tears, talking calmly as he did. “Are you crying because of me? Did I go in too hard?” “No.” I shook my head. “I just feel bad. I didn’t want it to go like this.” “No… I can’t say I did either.” He chuckled uneasily. “It just… It doesn’t feel right. I wish it did, but it doesn’t.” He dropped his hands whilst my tears terminated progressively. “I don’t want-” “LIN, WHY’RE YOU MAKING ALFIE CRY?” Niall yelled from across the room. “NIALL, SHUT THE FUCK UP!” Lin yelled back, proceeding to mentally block him out. “For fuck sake. Someone needs to tell that lad that it’s not always appropriate to drop a joke.” Despite the fact that I agreed, we were both still sort of laughing, shaking our heads and rolling our eyes. “I think we should probably do this another time.” I whispered, wiping away the last of my tears. “Sorry for getting mad.” “Sorry for avoiding you. I’d be mad too. And sorry for crying. You should be able to be pissed off without me crying and making you feel bad.” Abruptly, he moved in and wrapped his arms around me, releasing a swell of air that had be stuck in his chest. We could hear Niall whinging whimsically about how they were all waiting on their drinks, which were now sitting on top of the bar waiting to be paid for and waiting to be carried over to their consumers, but we had things to say. After quite some time, Lin pulled out of the hug but remained close, pressing his forehead against mine and speaking quietly, still trying to block out our surroundings, his hand latched against the back of my neck. I breathed him in, eased. “We’ll be okay, I promise. I don’t really know where we go from here, but-” “Harry?” I heard Louis yell through the bar, and I knew. Before I’d even turned around, I knew. I could tell from the sound of his voice, the perfect blend of surprise and terror. I knew and yet it didn’t seem real. Not until I watched Lin lift his head to gaze over the top of mine, eyes and mouth wide. “Holy shit, Harry’s here.” I whipped my whole body around a second later so I was facing the right way, so I could see for myself. That was the moment I locked eyes with Harry for the first time in over a year. He was completely motionless, so still and beautiful and perfect I could hardly comprehend that he was real, an image frozen in time and likely captured in my mind forever. He was stood in the doorway staring forward, right at me, as though he wasn’t conscious of anything else. It was just me and him and the static canvas we had become. His emotions were difficult to decipher, looking as shocked as I must have even though it was him who’d turned up out of nowhere. He hadn’t stepped foot in that pub since the previous May, but he was gazing right at me as though I had entered his space, like it was my presence that was the cause for alarm. He looked hurt, in ways. Those seconds felt like a lifetime, only able to snap out of my daze when Niall crashed his body against Harry’s, threw his arm around his neck. “What the hell are you doing here?” Libby howled excitedly as she approached him. “Are you moving back?” Niall asked whilst hugging the life out of him. “Please tell me you’re moving back.” It was then that Harry managed to pull his eyes away, and so did I, darting my vision to the left to look at Louis, who was already staring at me with wide eyes. “What the fuck?” He mouthed mutely. I found that my eyes drew back to Harry within seconds, like a magnet. His were back on me. He looked amazing. He always did. Even when he was exhausted and drained, his body had a certain shine to it that I’d never seen the likes of before and would never see again. Maybe I saw him in some divine light, but staring at him then I felt sure that simply, he was magnificent; radiant, powerful, immersed in splendour. “Uh…” Harry eventually began to grumble as Niall detached himself, looking away from me but not looking at anyone else, his gaze shooting down to the floor. “I dunno why I’m here. Sorry, I… I should go.” “What? You just got here?” Niall keened. Lin tried to edge past me to get closer to Harry, attempt to convince him to stick around like the rest of them were doing, all confused and stunned by his presence but desperate for him to stay. As he moved, Lin placed his hand on my waist gently, tenderly trying to edge me closer to the group to help with encouraging Harry to stay, but that minor action seemed to have the opposite effect. Harry witnessed the trivial exchange and withdrew completely. “No, m’sorry, I can’t do this.” He walked backwards, pushing his weight against the front door to open it without looking. “I dunno why I came, I’m sorry.” “The fuck, Harry?” Niall, Libby and Louis were all so dumbfounded they could barely move, just watching him back himself out of there. “What is going on?” It was rather clear he was overwhelmed, and I didn’t necessarily think it was the sole reason, but I knew that he was piqued by what he’d seen between Lin and I. He’d always had his paranoias, and though they still felt rather misplaced, he hadn’t been entirely delusional. The last time we had been together, we had kissed and held one another so intensely, the situation overflowing with passion and heartbreak. That was the last physical contact we’d had. Following that, he’d sent me a painting that was closer to his heart than most of the people in his life could ever hope to be. No matter how we’d ended or the complications we’d faced, I predicted that he saw me in a similar way to how I saw him – that in some way, we would always belong to one another. I would never be okay seeing him with someone else, and he didn’t want to see me with another man. Our history was too strong. For him to see me for the first time over a year later, another boys hand in my hair and lips close to mine. I knew I wouldn’t have wanted to see him and another woman like that, whether it meant something or not. I knew that was one of the reasons he desired a swift exit. “I shouldn’t have come. I don’t wanna interrupt, m’just gunna go. I promise I’ll see you soon, I promise, I just… Fuck.” With that final curse word he was outside, the door closing behind him. There were only a few seconds of shocked silence before Louis turned and bellowed to me. “Alfie, for fuck sake, go after him!” With no plan, no thought process and nothing to guide me, I ran out the door to catch him. I could barely make sense of a single thing, all I knew was that I couldn’t let him walk away without putting up a fight. I was terrified that if I let him walk away, that would be the last of it. Harry was sometimes hard to read, difficult to predict, and despite recent actions, I knew the chances of him disappearing from my life completely, never to seen or heard from again, were large. I knew there was a chance that this could be the very last time I saw him, and that was more likely if I didn’t go after him. I had too many questions that needed answering; why he was there, why he’d sent me the painting, how he had been for the past year. I wanted answers, and then if he wanted to leave he could. I could only hope that he desired the same closure I did. “Harry!” I yelled as soon as I could. He had his head down, walking central down the countrylane, heading towards town, towards the house where he used to live, towards a history he didn’t want to face.  He tried to ignore me, not wanting to acknowledge my presence. I was so fucking confused. “HARRY!” I yelled again once I was out on the road, and he had to stop then, coming to a complete standstill but not turning to look at me. “What the fuck are you doing?” He didn’t answer. “Why’re you here?” “I… I don’t know.” He slowly turned around, but kept his line if vision right on the ground ahead of his feet. “It was stupid, m’sorry, I’m just gunna leave. I thought I was ready for this and I… I’m really not, so-” “Ready for what?” “Being back here. Seeing… I-I can’t. I have to leave.” He set off again, running his hand through his hair, clearly wanting nothing more than to get away from me. Though I could feel my frustration bubbling, I kept it locked down, remaining still and watching him walk away. “Why did you send me that painting?” I asked tersely, breathless, and that brought him to a standstill once again. I was surprised by how calm I sounded. Even when he turned back around and lifted his head to look at me, I remained still, serene, patiently awaiting his answer. He blinked, strangely acting as though he hadn’t been expecting me to question him on that, like he thought we’d both look past it, like it was regular, expected. “Because… it’s yours.” He eventually managed an answer, speaking as though it was obvious. “No one else deserves it.” “Har-” “I need to go, Alfie. I’m sorry.” He started walking backwards once again, not wanting to delay his departure. “I’m sorry for showing up, I-” “Wait… Fuck, I’m so… Don’t you think we need to talk?” “No. I can’t. Just… Forget about it, okay?” He shuddered. “I’ve got so many fucking questions, Harry! How do you expect me to just forget this?” “Will you tell them I’m sorry?” He said, and when I remained silent, stunned, he turned around and picked up his pace. I wished he’d called me Fee-Fee. I didn’t fully understand why that was my first thought, but all I knew was that I craved to hear him call me by that nickname he had so fondly adopted. I longed for that familiarity, that sense that we knew one another, that we had a history, because as he was walking away from me then, he truly felt like a stranger. The only thing that felt the same was the way he was running away from a situation that was more complicated than he’d bargained for. Exasperated, I picked up the pace and followed his footsteps, diminishing the space between us and then jumping so I was directly in front of him, forcing him to stop. We were mere inches apart. “Alfie-” “I don’t give a fuck if you don’t want to talk to me, Harry, that’s fine!” I fumed, retrieving my phone from my pocket and searching through it, unable to look him in the eye now we were so close. “I stopped expecting things from you when you fucking left, I’m past it. But you need to speak to your mum. Here.” I held my phone out ahead of him, keeping my eyes on his chest but putting the screen right before his eyes, the contact information for his mother brightening his face. “Wh-what?” “It’s your mum’s number. Take it. Call her.” “But-” “If you don’t, I fucking will. Please step up and do it, Harry. She’s desperate to hear from you.” “How… How do you-” “I spoke to her about you, and I don’t even care if you’re angry with me. I really don’t fucking care anymore, because this is your way to reach her and that’s all that mattered to me. And now you know that she does want you to reach out for her, she tried to reach you, so you’ve got no excuse. Take it, call her. Please.” He was shell-shocked for a little while, taking his time before he reached into his pocket to retrieve his poor excuse for a phone, some old looking thing that didn’t look like it would still function, typing the number he could see and then hopefully saving it to his phone, but I didn’t check to confirm that. I just had to hope he was listening to me, and that I’d said enough for him to finally get in touch with Julia again. “You done?” I asked bluntly. “Uh… Yeah.” “Okay, I’ve done my part, so leave. I don’t care.” I huffed, moving past him, my shoulder colliding with his rather lethally. I had spent the past few months of my life trying to pick him away from my memories, some sort of survival technique I had attempted to adapt, tearing even the tiniest detail from my thoughts. Even down to the simplest thing, like the exact colour of his eyes, the precise shade of green. I had almost forgotten that colour, and the second I was close enough to reacquaint myself, I daren’t look, daren’t remind myself. Or maybe I daren’t acknowledge that I’d never really forgotten. I never could. One last thing held me back before I left him there alone, went back to trying to forget. I rotated to face him again, seeing he hadn’t moved. “And I’d fire your agent, if I was you.” I said. “What?” He turned slightly, enough so he could see me. “Your mum got in touch with him and he never told you. Fire him, he doesn’t give a fuck about you.” His hurt and his horror were clear within his face even though he didn’t say a single thing. I didn’t give him much of an opportunity to reply, really. I had done what I wanted to do, placed the responsibility and the knowledge within his hands, and then it was his to handle, his to deal with however he felt was best. I had hopes, but I certainly didn’t expect anything from him. Not after everything. As I walked away from him, I could feel tears building, like my heart was breaking all over again, like I was losing him all over again even though I’d never gotten him back. Truthfully, he had never been mine to lose.

[sporesgalaxy]

You know what? Fuck it. Here's the whole ass WIP script for the Danny Phantom/Ben 10/Deadpool crossover nightmare, which is called #follow ur crossover dreams, by the way. I think copy-pasting on my phone is gonna delete some italics but whatever.

Reminder that it's still a really early draft with a lot I plan on changing (wade Motormouth wilson doesnt say nearly enough bullshit, for starters), but hopefully u will enjoy it. happy birthday to me, my gift is letting myself share ideas without maximum effort

[BEN is running through a crowd of high school students, excitedly. He is on his phone] BEN: C'mon, Gwen, just tell me where to go! I wanna fight some bad guys today! It's been weeks! [GWEN is on a computer] GWEN: Ben, for the last time, you are NOT going into this alone! We aren't even sure what's causing this yet! Seismic activity at this scale is totally unheard of around here, and whatever's causing it-- BEN: Is gonna get it's butt whooped by the one and only Benn Tennyson! BEN: Don't worry, I can totally handle this! GWEN: Yeah, cause things always work out perfectly  when you say that. BEN: Just give me the location, and you can catch up with me there! GWEN: No, Ben. I'll fill you in when we know more, but.until then, don't run off. [BEN is dejectedy watching TV at home, when suddenly, there is another earthquake. Soon after, a newswoman reveals the epicenter just outside of town, and Ben gets an idea] [BEN gets off a public bus at a bus stop far outside of town. He looks out into a dry hilly wilderness, and down to his phone gps to confirm he is going in the right direction.] BEN: all right...I didn't wanna risk timing out before I got there, but I think I'm close enough now... [BEN places his phone gps at his feet, closes his eyes, and slaps the Omnitrix] [BEN transforms into Stinkfly] BEN: Well, I was hoping for XLR8, but I guess I can work with this? [BEN picks up his phonr and flies off] [when he reaches the epicenter BEN finds, embedded into a large hill, an abandoned lab of some sort.] BEN: ooOh [BEN enters the lab, and shortly times out, becoming human again. He sort of tries to sneak, but is clearly too excited/curious to be very effective] [The lab is full of rusting, inscruitable equiptment. Finally, Ben enters a natural cave turned testing area deep inside the lab, a cavernous room machinery littering the floor. There seems to be a fixation on machinery that we would recognize as Danny's parents' portal, but not embedded into a wall, so like a door attatched to a tube. Spare parts and dissasembled prototypes rest along the edges of the room, and a few assembled peices rest towards one end.] [Ben stands on the far south end of the cave, looking around at all of the strange wiring and such.] BEN: I wonder if this is Plumber tech... [BEN kicks a bundle of cords on the floor, and the sound echoes through the room.] [Then, a stranger sound eminates from somewhere just outside of the cavern. And another, similar, closer sound is accompanied by a visible flash. And then-- in a green streak, DANNY bursts into the air in the cavernous space, and then hits the floor and skids. When he stops, he turns human as he falls unconscious] [BEN has no fucking idea what is going on] BEN: uh...h...HEY. ARE YOU...OKAY? DANNY: ... BEN: HELLO? HELO-O? DP: ya think he's dead? BEN: AUGH!!!! [BEN jumps violently, very surprised by Deadpool's presence, and takes a step back] BEN: Who the heck are you?! DP: Call me Deadpool! [BEN gives him a look of utter disbelief. That is the stupidest superhero name he's ever heard. He's about to say that, but then,] DANNY: [groans] DP: [hops down. Puts a hand out, signalling for Ben to stay] Stay here, kid. [Ben is offended to be belittled even if it's reasonable. He stands with an angry look on his face for a moment before following just a few steps behind deadpool, hand at the ready above his watch.] [DP veeery cautiosly walks over to Danny and then....abruptly switches gears, standing up straight and gently bumping the boy's shoulder with his foot] DP: hey. hey. get up. DANNY: five more minutess.... DP: ...7Your mom made pancakes? [DANNY's eyebrows furrow. He groans again. He props himself up, and rubs his head. He's covered in dirt and some blood. He opens his eyes and his expression is full of exhaustion and dread as he processes his unfamiliar surroundings. He looks up at Deadpool] DANNY: ...........I don't smell any pancakes. [DEADPOOL and DANNY stare at eachother for a moment. DANNY seems to be waiting for something. He suddenly looks at BEN, incredulous] DANNY: So are either of you going to attack me, or are we having a staring contest? BEN: I dunno, are YOU going to attack? [DANNY is so tired. He's had a long day] DANNY: I'd prefer not to, but it tends to happen a lot. DP: Well that's depressing! BEN: Well if none of us are fighting, I have a question. BEN: Where'd you two come from? DANNY: Ghost portal. DP: Time travel. BEN: ... BEN: You're not giving me much to work with, here. [BEN points to DANNY] BEN: Especially you. I get time travel, I can live with that-- DP: Thank god. BEN: --But, "ghost portal?" Like a portal for ghosts? Are you dead?? [DP slowly prods Danny with his foot again. Danny is too busy suddenly realizing that he's in human form to be concerned with that] DANNY: I--uh-- BEN: Was that what was up with the green energy? DANNY: Maybe I just went through the ghost portal, ok? I--where are we? BEN: Somewhere on the outskirts of Bellwood, Nevada. DANNY: Nevada? BEN: Nevada DANNY: Huh. DANNY: And why are you here? BEN: [excited to sound smart] There was some unnatural seismic activity around here, and I came to check it out, see if it was anything nefarious. BEN: [cocky] You know, usual superhero stuff. [Danny is a little shocked. He's never really met another superhero before, who wasn't a clone, or accusing Danny of being evil or something] DANNY: oh. BEN: What? DANNY: You're...you're really a superhero? DP: You're like 12 is that safe? [What is the deal with all these young superheroes but say it funnier] BEN: I'm 16!!! DP: Children trying to be superheroes never works out well, trust me kid. BEN: I'm not a child!! Why do you care, huh? DP: Cause I hang out with a lot of superheroes and the heroism business has never done anyone's mental health ANY favors. [DANNY puts his hed in his hands] DANNY: Ugh, tell me about it. BEN: Ha! You AREN'T a normal kid! DANNY: oops. BEN: What can you do?? Do you have GHOST POWERS? [DANNY bites his lip] DANNY: What about you? Do you have powers? BEN: I can turn into any of hundreds of aliens! DANNY: ...care to show me? [BEN looks at the Omnitrix. It's still timed out] BEN: ...in theory... [Danny raises an eyebrow] [meanwhile, Deadpool loses interest. He starts climbing on stuff, looking at the scattered tech.] BEN: Uhhh...can it wait a minute? I just flew here. DANNY: What?? BEN: [gestures to watch, grinning sheepishly] Alien tech! BEN: I swear I'll show you later. What about you! Show me yours! [Deadpool arches an eyebrow at them in the distance] DANNY: ...I guess, since you already guessed it... BEN: What are you so worried about? Ha, haven't you ever met another superhero before? [Ben was sort of kidding, but...] DANNY: BEN: DANNY: Uh, no. Not really. BEN: ...So do you fight bad guys all on your own? DANNY: Uh, yeah? I'm kinda the only person who can. [Reconsiders, and adds with bitterness] Well, the only one who can and will. [Ben thinks about that for a second. He knows how it feels to think you're the only person who can save the world, but Ben is usually wrong when he assumes that's the case. He doesn't like imagining how he'd feel without all the support he's gotten in his hero-ing career. He's genuinely concerned for Danny.] [Danny notices the concern in Ben's expression. Ben seems to be about to say something, but Danny suddenly feels insecure about being pitied. He finally stands up, brushing himself off] DANNY: But like, I have friends, and plenty of tech they can use to help me out. I'm just the only...I guess I'm the only superpowered person willing to deal with fighting ghosts all the time, okay? Whatever! I've been at it for 2 years, I'm used to it. [Ben then adds something together in his head] BEN: Wait, have you never heard of me? Ben 10? DP: Wow! Humble! BEN: No, seriously! Never? Have you ever seen any aliens? DANNY: Uh, no? BEN: Where are you from? DANNY: Colorado. BEN: I've saved the world, like, several times. [DANNY and DP raise an eyebrow each] BEN: Publicly!! People know about me! I'm a big deal!! This is--You guys aren't from here. I need to take you to the Plumbers, so we can-- [A portal powers up again. DANNY seems to suddenly remember something. He goes stiff] DANNY: Oh no. BEN: What? Is that the Ghost Portal? DANNY: Yeah. And you're about to meet the guy who punched me through it. [DP rejoins them to look at the threat] DP: Oh, now that you two have your shit figured out, I should mention I'm from another universe. BEN: WHAT! You said time travel! DP: Yeah, time travel gone horribly, horribly wrong. BEN: How??? I've time travelled a few times and never seen anyine mess it up that bad. DANNY: Yeah since when does time travel take you to other universes? DP: OH SO WE'RE ALL TIME TRAVEL EXPERTS HERE ARE WE??? I'm not telling you two how to live YOUR lives! DP: How about I start bragging about being a superhero expert! Neither of you even know what an X-man *IS!* BEN: Like from the comics? [DP looks at Ben. He won't say it out loud but his expression says "WHAT THE FUCK DUDE"] [BEN shrugs]

[time to get DISJOINTED!!! Here's 2 comic transcripts]

...[some fighting I havent written yet]...

DP: DANNY WHY IS YOUR GHOST DAD SO HOT?? DANNY: HE'S NOT MY DAD. PLEASE DON'T CALL HIM THAT, IT'S A WHOLE *THING* WITH HIM-- [VLAD beams] VLAD: Now, Daniel, is that any way to speak to your father?? DANNY: SEE?! Now he'll never shut up about it! VLAD: I've had enough of your sass, young man! You're GROUNDED. [VLAD spikes Danny into the ground HARD.] [DP is pissed off now. He reaches for his katanas.] DP: Ok I get the picture.

...[more unwritten fighting]...

VLAD: Well, now that I have your undivided attention-- [DANNY has just been punched into the ground. He's sitting up, now] DANNY: --You can start the evil monologue. Joy. VLAD: Evil is such a reductive word. Don't you ever get tired of being beaten half to death to protect people that couldn't care less if you lived or died? [DANNY stands up, with some difficulty] DANNY: You *would* think having a conscience is exhausting. [VLAD is taking a lazy step towards Danny every few moments] VLAD: ...Have you noticed where we are, Daniel? VLAD: Because it isn't Amity Park. It's not even in the same universe as Amity Park. VLAD: And it's not anywhere your idiot father will ever bother finding, seeing as it has nothing whatsoever to do with ghosts. [VLAD is standing over Danny, now] VLAD: Do you know what that means, my boy? VLAD: Nothing I do here can spoil my reputation. VLAD: And none of your little friends are coming to save you. [VLAD places a hand on Danny's shoulder, gripping too tight] VLAD: So VLAD: I'm going to make you the same offer I made you the night of the reunion VLAD: One. Last. Time. VLAD: Either abandon Jack and let me teach you how to really use your powers, [VLAD summons some ghostly energy between his hand and Danny's shoulder] VLAD: Or force me to make poor, dear Maddie file a missing person's report that will never be resolved.

[wow direct segue into comic!]

..[just a tad more unwritten fighting]...

[Vlad has Ben by the neck very far up in the air, and Ben is frantically pressing his Omnitrix] VLAD: [cackles] Goodness, I think your powers might be even more tempermental than Daniel's! It's a little sad, honestly. I was looking forward to a real challenge for once. DP: [on the ground, a distance away] Superpowers shmuperpowers [cocks gun, and fires a couple of shots at Vlad] [Vlad was watching DP talk, unimpressed. He becomes intangible, clearly no longer interested in Ben, allowing him to plummet to his death] [After becoming tangible again, and without breaking eye contact, in a flash of pink energy, Vlad is right in front of Deadpool, and violently pins him to a wall] DP: AWH, you can teleport?! That's not even fair!! VLAD: [close to Deadpools face, crushing his neck harder] No. It isn't. And that's just how I like it. DP: [choking] [thinking] don't say harder daddy don't say harder daddy don't say harder daddy [cut to Ben falling through the air, desperately, repeatedly smacking the Omnitrix] BEN: PLEASE WORK PLEASE WORK PL-- [Danny swoops in and catches him] BEN: [clinging to Danny, obviously spooked but trying to be cool] Thanks! DANNY: [amused] Don't mention it. [Danny puts Ben down on the ground] BEN: Um..where are your legs? DANNY: Oh, they uh...they just do that sometimes. DANNY: Is something wrong with your watch? BEN: [glares at the Omnitrix] It just does this, sometimes. [Danny sees something coming] DANNY: Well you'd better fix it fast! [Ben looks up just as Danny turns them both intangible, seconds before Deadpool is sent hurtling through them and into the ground] [BEN is grinning, watching his hands as they turn re-tangible] BEN: That is SO COOL! I've only ever gotten to do that to myself! Y'know, as an alien! [DANNY was looking at DP's crater, but turns to BEN, surprised at the genuine enthusiasm] DANNY: [maybe blushing a little?] Uh, thanks! [BEN grins at him, and Danny smiles back. They're cute.] [Deadpool's hand pops out of the crater, waving (flailing)...reassuringly?] DP: Don't worry about me, all he did was break [groans] most of my bones. [Danny grabs Ben and pulls him out of the way before Vlad fires an energy blast at Deadpool] VLAD: Still think you can manage without superpowers? [DP sits up painfully and slowly, and coughs] DP: Ac-- [Vlad hits him with a copious amount of energy blasts for an unnecessarily long time as he slowly lowers to the ground] [When Vlad lands and stops firing, he turns around to face Danny and Ben] VLAD: Where were we, Daniel? [Danny is horrified. He's gripping a fistful of Ben's shirt like his life depends on it, expecting to have to save him a third time. Ben is a bit shaken but still determined, and holds his hand at the ready over the Omnitrix] VLAD: ...That was rhetorical, my boy. I had just asked you a very simple question. VLAD: [turning his gaze to Ben] And I don't want to repeat myself. [Ben is not quite picking up on Vlad's thinly veiled threat. Danny, bug-eyed, follows Vlad's gaze to Ben, and is clearly absolutely terrified to be responsible for the deaths of two people he just met. Danny tightens his grip on Ben's shirt.] DANNY: ...I-- [a gunshot hits Vlad from behind. Vlad is completely shocked] [behind him, DEADPOOL is sitting up in the crater, charred to all hell but somehow still alive. He appears to only have one (barely) functioning arm left, which is holding the smoking gun] DP: I never said I didn't have any superpowers, jackass. [DP narrows his eyes] DP: I just like guns. [DP tries to shoot VLAD a few more times, but VLAD has turned intangible, and flies to a safer distance] Vlads gonna say some shit and run off Im not done yet but hoo boy. Oh man.

[natsunoomoi]

So a BL Chinese novel?

So I started watching and reading Scumbag System or Scum Villain’s Self-Saving System in the last day because I saw a really adorable nendo of Shen Qingqiu and was like, “OMG What is this cute little thing and why is it freaking out at a screen?” Found the first ep of the series on Youtube on the WeTV channel and got hooked. Googled for the original novel, and I’m I think like 15 chapters in. It’s SO GOOD though.

I was really surprised and intrigued about the premise because I got into reading some Chinese novels lately, but of the romance fare, but the intro and like the frustration Shen Yuan has over some of the writing even though I’m not reading a stallion novel (cuz that doesn’t appeal to me) I just related to because I feel that frustration for some of the developments that happen in the romance novels I was reading.

Like a bit of a tangent, but Thorny First Marriage turned into a shit show the last few chapters where the main character suddenly got really stupid and like threw what she had out the window and basically lost everything, and then it hasn’t had new chapters added to it in weeks even though it still says “To be continued”. It’s just so frustratingly dissatisfying right now and I don’t know how they’ll write themselves out of the hole they made and I’m not really that interested. The Bossy Ghost Husband one got better-ish, but the main character is still stupid and I like predict plot points several chapters before she even thinks of it and it’s painfully slow on the MC realizing it.

But that tangent just to say, I understand the MC of SVSSS’s frustration. I think his is worse because that “original work” he talks about sounds like a huge frickin’ shit show, but the story of him trying to fix it is so good because I can relate to being frustrated with character’s shitty decisions that don’t make sense.

Also, Shen Qingqiu is kind of cute.... Like I dunno, why but I have an odd weakness for his look in general for some reason that probably dates back to old movies I used to watch with my Dad when I was growing up. Kind of saddening that the premise of him is that he originally was a huge asshole with a pretty outside but awful, pretentious inside.

But then this is also apparently a BL novel? Like I’m early into the novel and it reads like a totally normal story, which is great for me since I’m ace and I kind of don’t really like so much how Japanese BL manga tends to shove the sexual stuff down your throat almost immediately a lot of the time. Every time I’ve ever seen it, but I don’t dabble in BL often and I have a small sample set so I’m giving the benefit of the doubt that there’s probably a few out there that have a slow burn too and actually develop the relationship, which is so nice.

Like I’m not normally into BL at all, just because of the overt sexualization kind of makes it more similar to trash smut than a good story, and I’d rather read a good story that happens to also be BL. It seems few and far between. Recently I took a bit of an interest in Titan’s Bride because I thought the premise was interesting, but even checking that out the MC in the manga gets pantsed in the first chapter just to highlight how he has a huge dick and he jacks off when he gets transported into the other world. Like apparently the two characters gradually get to know each other and all, but they like jumped into the sex part like immediately. The story is still better than most fare to an extent, but I mean, do you need to jump into it that quickly? Not to mention in a way that’s like not exactly consensual?

So given that, I’m finding SVSSS to just be way more delightful and the starting premise where the MC has to try to change the hero’s opinion of him so that he doesn’t die being the impetus for their relationship developing is just so fascinating and also sweet. You can like literally see the little things that Binghe notices as their closeness starts to develop, and it doesn’t really seem like there’s going to be anything that starts out non-consensual.

I have a lot of questions though. It’s probably because I’m Asian but grew up in the West. Like in some ways it’s really nice that Asian cultures are more open and accepting of representation of same sex relationships in media and literature, but for Japanese BL it is a bit disturbing that it’s so hyper sexualized cuz homosexuality is just about love. Like there’s a hint of deviance in it and that’s saddening. I know Japanese BL has a specific social purpose too for it being a representation of equal relationship fantasy rather than being faithful literature representing same sex relationships, but it comes on SO STRONG that I’ve always been really concerned about the messaging and kind of uncomfortable with things like Yaoi con and stuff just because it’s like the glorification of something that objectifies same sex relationships more as a commodity than a representation of love and a caring relationship between two people who happen to have the same sex. Still, I remember in my studies that homophobia is more of a Western idea since Confucianism back in the day technically glorified homosexual relationships in some ways and the modern condemnation is more of an import idea reflecting Western Judeo-Christian ideals. In that respect the contrast on a society level and how we got to the situation we have now in modern times is interesting and baffling when you see prominent politicians in like Japan condemn it. But I mean, also from living in Japan it’s kind of interesting in that before arriving I was told many things about how Japan is more sexist, but like in Asian countries in general including Japan girls can cut their hair into cute bobs and no men in their alives are entitled enough to publicly object to it because they are less sexualized with shorter hair. That happening back home was appalling to me because why are you even looking at young girls like that in the first place? It’s nice to be in an area where no one gives a shit about that.

I dunno if it just happened to be coincidence in some of the media I saw, but I saw some people even visit a restaurant in China owned by a couple and like, it seems even a bit more normalized? I usually don’t keep up on modern day Chinese social issues so I don’t really know how it’s thought of there, but it kind of seems like it’s a bit more normalized, which is nice.

But then that also leaves me to the questions I have about SVSSS. Like I love the development of the relationship, but also I’m a bit confused about what the bigger meaning would be of the hero in the supposed original story having a harem solely of women, but with a few story changes starts a relationship with Shen Qingqiu? Like just in principle. I suppose he could be bi, but then wouldn’t his original self have had some men in his harem? I mean, the story is being rewritten so I suppose you could argue that there’s room for him discovering his fluidity or even turning out pan or something, but it seems just a bit different from the idea that you are born with a sexuality. We don’t really know what the original contents of the “original work” were though exactly. We just get snippets than Shen Yuan tells us about and of course it’s a ridiculous stallion novel as well, but I mean, I kind of feel like the ultimate kind would be that he’s such a stallion that even men admire him too? Instead it seems like the lousy original work was too hyper masculine so I suppose you could argue the original shit author was just not good enough to consider even the complexity of sexuality in his characters and that’s why he focused on the other males only being jealous, but still it kind of strikes me as a little uncomfortable to imply that anyone could “change” in the right circumstances instead of just being born that way.

That’s pretty much my only real concern as I embark on reading this story though. Everything else is much improved from my other experiences with BL. I guess the student teacher thing is also a little worrying because of age difference and power dynamics, but also the situation isn’t exactly that either cuz of the reality of the series being someone rewriting the story, but yeah.

The animated series sometimes has a bit of uncanny valley with some of the movements and the fact that the characters are more like 3D versions of a Chinese painting rather than more photorealistic, but it’s beautiful. The parts that it did in 2D animation though were a bit more comfortable with the no uncanny valley triggering.

Anyway, this is basically what’s been on my mind regarding this in the last day. It’s literally been a day since I started this journey and these are my first impressions.

[keldae]

Drastic Measures -- Chapter 29

“Your brother told us part of what had happened to you,” Lana shook her head as they walked down the killik tunnel, leaving the rest of the new arrivals from Dantooine to scatter into the rest of the cell, “but the full story is even more insane.”

“Tell me about it,” Xaja muttered. “I’m considering switching career paths and becoming an author.”

Lana’s lips twitched in a smile. “You would have to market this as fictional, I'm afraid. No one would ever believe it to be true.”

“If I hadn't just lived it, I wouldn’t either.” Theron looked over at Xaja and lightly nudged her arm. “As co-star of your future bestseller, do I get royalties?”

Xaja laughed as she followed Lana around a curve in the tunnel, opening up to what seemed to be the main command hub of the base. “Naturally. Hopefully this story gets a happy ending.”

“We’ll do our best to make certain that happens,” Lana reassured the Jedi with a smile. “Keeping you alive and out of Arcann’s hands is our goal.”

“And pissing Arcann off with our continuous survival is my current objective in life.”

On Lana’s other side, the Zakuulan officer she had introduced as Koth Vortena grinned. “That’s a good objective to have. Assassin or not, you’re all right, Outlander.”

“I do my best,” Xaja smirked, deciding she liked Koth already. Her first instinct upon Lana introducing him as a Zakuulan defector was one of caution and worry, but within a few moments of meeting him, she and Theron both relaxed. She resisted the urge to ask what had driven him away from Zakuul. That could wait… for now.

Beside her, Theron lowly whistled as he looked around the base. “I knew there was a cell here, but I didn’t realize it was this expansive. This is all Thunder’s network?”

“To the best of my knowledge, most of it is.” Lana nodded in confirmation as she led them up the ramp of one of the larger command platforms. “We’re reconvening here to plan our next movements. Thunder still has assets across the galaxy, but they’re remaining in place for the time being.”

“Any thoughts as to those next steps?” Xaja asked as she flopped into a metal chair beside a table covered in datapads and flimsi pages. 

“Take stock of our losses from Dantooine; determine how many of us can still move freely without attracting a legion of bounty hunters; and then find a new location to serve as headquarters. Thunder has indicated that they want to increase the rebellion’s power base, which will mean more resources than we can accumulate by having several scattered little cells. Tatooine served as the last major base, but with your brother attacking the Star Fortress bunker there, the system’s now too dangerous for us to hide in.”

Xaja felt a little burst of pride that Korin, her renegade, responsibility-dodging brother, had led the strike team that landed such a successful hit on one of Zakuul’s most visible assets. Being an active leader in the rebellion might make a responsible adult out of Korin yet. “But between that hit, Theron and I dodging capture this long, and the loss of the Zakuulan forces on the ship on Dantooine…”

“He’s gotta be furious,” Theron finished with a grin, leaning against the table beside Xaja. The bond rippled with a feeling of smug satisfaction.

A grin pulled at Xaja’s mouth, only to fade at the thoughts of what could come of Arcann growing vindictive. “Is he taking it out on anyone else?” she asked. Stars, if he was anything like Darth Angral had been… 

“Not yet -- or at least, not as far as we know.” Koth sat down in another chair and scrubbed long fingers across his goatee. “Besides the attack on Dantooine, and reinforcements arriving as we were leaving Tatooine, nobody’s heard of another conflict recently. My crew -- they deserted with me when I left Zakuul —  they’re keeping an eye on things from a distance.”

“There are still Eternal Fleet ships stationed at Coruscant,” Lana added. “And after learning you had been on Dromund Kaas, Arcann sent some of his forces there to investigate. But with your brother having fled already and Acina having no idea about you being on the planet, the pressure has lessened there… from Zakuul, at any rate.”

“Last I’ve heard,” Sorand added as he walked up the ramp, having been held back by Shara and Corey for a few minutes. “The tensions between the Republic and the Empire are escalating. Saresh is calling you both traitors to the Republic — sorry about that — and claiming you’ve been working with me since the Revanite crisis. Which technically isn’t wrong…”

“The schutta ,” Xaja hissed as she felt Theron settle his hand on her arm. “She’s saying that publicly?”

“And kriffing over any chance you might have had of being able to disappear into the Republic,” Sorand muttered as he frowned down at a datapad in his hands. “From what I’m reading, it’s full-blown propaganda. She’s probably hoping for any loyal citizens who see either of you to turn you in as traitors.”

“Which gets Arcann off her neck,” Theron muttered. “The Empire?”

“While she might, in other circumstances, do so, Acina’s acting thoroughly insulted by the notion that she would ever have an allegiance with a Jedi.” Sorand rolled his eyes. “Besides naming me a traitor, and putting Lana and Dad about a step below me on the most-wanted list, she’s made a comeback at Saresh along the lines of calling her a slave-race coward who can’t admit she can’t find two high-profile war heroes-turned-traitors.”

Xaja winced at that. Theron’s own cringe echoed along the bond as he spoke up again. “Dare I ask what Saresh said in response to that?”

“Probably not,” Koth commented. “But if this keeps up, it’s going to turn into a galactic-stage catfight.”

“I’d find that more amusing if we weren’t stuck in the middle of it with Zakuul tearing the galaxy apart looking for us,” Xaja muttered.

“Both Saresh and Acina will be hesitant to go to open war,” Lana interjected with a frown. “With Commander Malcom walking away from the Republic, and Acina missing the two top assets in Sith Intelligence and one of the surviving Dark Council, they’re both strategically crippled. And that’s without mentioning how few Jedi remain, or how many soldiers from both sides have followed their chosen leaders into rebellion.”

“They just have their own fleets and militaries, and more resources to their names,” Koth grumbled. 

“But while they’re threatening each other with said fleets,” Sorand started, “this is the perfect time for the resistance to vanish. Considering we’re not sure how long Alderaan will be safe, I feel like we should find a new base soon. Arcann’s not going to greatly care about the Republic and Empire clawing at each other, not while he’s still looking for you two.” He nodded at Theron and Xaja. 

“There’s too many high-value targets here, and too many civilians who could be endangered by us,” Xaja muttered. “Worst case scenario, how long could the resistance keep running?”

“Perhaps another few years. But I’d rather not see it come to that.” Sorand hummed in thought. “The galaxy is vast enough that we should be able to find an unpopulated planet, or one with a low population. Perhaps Rakata Prime?”

“Force knows there shouldn’t be too many live Rakata left there after Revan bombarded the place,” Xaja said.

“Not Rakata, but there have been Republic historians exploring that world since the fall of the Revanites,” Theron spoke up. “Not to mention that it’s near to the Core.” And too close to Coruscant went unspoken.

“That one ice ball from hell -- Hoth, maybe?” Koth offered. “Distant Outer Rim, and nobody sane goes there.”

“Aside from both Imperial and Republic forces trying to raid the starship ruins, and pirates crawling all over the place. Rumour has it there’s a new Star Fortress being constructed in the Hoth system as well.” Lana frowned at her crossed arms, then looked up. “I don’t suppose there are any other abandoned Jedi planets like Tython to be reclaimed?”

“If Ahch-To or Ossus had been found, it would have been all over the Holonet by now,” Sorand mused, running a hand over his own scruff in thought. Xaja barely had time to be surprised by the fact that her brother seemingly was familiar with Jedi history, or to remind herself that his academic leanings and his insatiable curiosity about the Jedi would have pushed him to learn all he could about the near-mythical Jedi worlds. “Yavin is the only other system I can think of that might work, but it’s uncomfortably close to Imperial territory. It’s something we’ll need to think about while we plan our next moves. Maybe we can find an uninhabited moon somewhere.”

“Cipher Nine may also have contacts who can help us,” Lana suggested. 

“That wouldn’t surprise me. I swear my father knows at least half the galaxy, and there has to be a decent number that don’t want to shoot him… somewhere.” A grin flickered across Sorand’s face for a second. “When he gets in, I’ll talk to him, see if he has any suggestions.”

That was a reasonable strategy. Xaja was pretty sure Sorand wasn’t exaggerating the claim of how many people their father knew. And Force knew the old spy could be… persuasive. “When is he expected?”

“Within the next couple of days, I think.” Sorand straightened up from where he had been leaning against a console. “Anything else that anyone wants to discuss right now?”

Silence answered him for a moment before Koth shook his head. “I dunno, I think that got just about everything important. I’ll send a ping out to my crew on Asylum, see if they’ve got any leads for uninhabited planets they’ve found.”

“Thank you, Koth.” Lana stood up and gave Xaja and Theron a smile. “Corey’s been in contact with Mandalore; I had best check in with her latest updates. We’ll have a chance to catch up soon.” 

Theron nodded as the blonde Sith took her leave of the platform, then looked back at Koth. “So, former Zakuulan Navy, huh?”

“Yep. Captain and only decent pilot in my crew…”

Xaja looked away from the conversation, making eye contact with Sorand. He subtly nodded, indicating the far corner. She rose and fell into step with him as they stepped off the platform, leaving Theron and Koth to talk.

As soon as they were out of earshot, Sorand let the worried frown show on his face. “You said things wound up… complicated?” he softly asked, touching his forehead. “You feel… better, almost like normal.”

Xaja nodded. “The Dreamwalkers had been wiped out,” she quietly answered, and saw Sorand’s shoulders slump at the news. “There were other Voss healers who helped me as much as they could.”

“But…?”

“He’s still in my head.” Xaja shuddered as Sorand sighed in worried disappointment, raking a hand through his hair. “They think they’ve managed to suppress him for the time being.” She hesitated, worrying her lower lip for an instant. “You know that bond I had with Theron before…?”

------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Annya froze as her boot touched down on the duracrete floor of the Republic-friendly spaceport. Ignoring Jonas bumping into her back, she stretched out her focus, closing her eyes. She could pick up on Jakar Forseti’s nearby Force-signature as he landed the Balance of Justice, and could recognize a few Organa civilians whom she’d met on earlier visits. But right then, she didn’t care about that.

It was what she could sense a couple of kilometres distant that demanded her attention. Her brow furrowed slightly when she recognized her aunt’s presence — what the blazes is Aunt Mairen doing here? But that was quickly put to the side, to think about later. 

A slight nudge confirmed Xaja’s presence, and Annya grinned as her cousin reached back, just able to feel the other Jedi’s delighted surprise. She lightly pushed again, getting a read on her cousin’s well-being. The younger woman felt alright — no flares of pain, no lines of grief or rage. There was a strange darkness clouding part of her signature, and beside that, a small thread of light that Annya was pretty sure hadn’t been there before. But that was something to worry about later. Xaja wasn’t physically hurt, and if she wasn’t being consumed by grief, Agent Shan had to be here too.

She turned to face a confused-looking Jonas and gave him a delighted smile. “Xaja made it. She’s here. And I’m pretty sure Theron is too.”

Jonas’ eyes widened in relief as he let out a breath. “Good!” He nodded before his eyes narrowed dangerously. “Theron better be here. That asshole has a punch coming that he deserves.”

------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Xaja suddenly fell silent mid-sentence as a bright Force-signature she knew made itself known only a short distance away. Ignoring Sorand frowning in confusion, she reached out, and felt a familiar nudge pressing against her mind. Joy flooded through her as she recognized her cousin, a delight she could feel echoed in the Force.

She turned her attention back to the present as Doc made his way over to her and Sorand. “Annya’s here!” she exclaimed, turning to Doc with a happy smile.

“Annya? That cousin of yours on Corellia?” Doc grinned. “Hells, today’s full of good news, Red.”

Sorand blinked in surprise. “Wait — we have another cousin?”

“Yes! Annya is a Green Jedi who—” Another presence made itself known on the planet surface; the recognition of that presence sent shock flooding through Xaja’s veins, her words dying in her mouth again. Impossible! He was killed months before Zakuul hit… unless he…

Shock turned to confusion, then joy, then what could be best described as indignant fury. “I’m going to kill him,” Xaja hissed. She ignored Theron’s sudden confusion over their bond, or the slight hint of subtle, smug amusement from the new presence.

Doc frowned for a moment before his eyes widened knowingly, a grin appearing under the mustache. “Only one person would make you react like that, Red. Jakar isn’t dead after all?”

“Not yet, he’s not,” Xaja growled as she turned and began stalking toward the central hub of the hive, still inwardly debating if she was going to hug the Barsen’thor of the Jedi Order before strangling him.

Behind her, Doc took a step to follow, stopped by Sorand’s hand on his shoulder. “Not to interrupt,” the Sith slowly said, “but would you mind explaining what the Hells that was all about?”

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“I’m relieved you’re all right,” Senya said as she walked through the killik tunnels with Satele, their bootsteps echoing in the cave. “From arriving here and realizing nobody else knew where you were…”

“I’m relieved to be alive too.” Satele smiled and offered Senya’s arm a squeeze. “I was pleased to hear you had made it here with no problems.”

“None to speak of,” agreed Senya. She gave Satele a sidelong look as they walked for a few paces further. “While I was here, I did not find a way to heal my children, but I did learn something about… about your son.”

Satele’s eyes were cautious when they looked back at Senya, but she did finally nod. “So you know who he is,” she finally said. It was a statement, not a question.

Senya nodded. “I hardly blame you for keeping that quiet.” 

“I am not convinced that he was planning an attack like what Arcann claims.” Satele pursed her lips as the two women rounded a corner in the tunnel, coming across a busy crowd. Apparently more rebels had just arrived. “I don’t know what he was doing there, but terrorism wasn’t on his agenda. It’s not his style.”

“It could be argued that freeing someone accused of regicide is terrorism,” Senya commented.

“I’m not sure that he would care in that respect.” Satele strained to look out over the crowd. “Not when he was…” She paused, a frown marring her features. “Watching him after Master Taerich was declared killed in action… I didn’t know if he would ever be happy again. He was devastated.”

Senya slowly nodded as she followed Satele’s gaze. Her eyes landed on a handsome young man in a bright red jacket, currently talking with Captain Vortena and Lord Beniko— Lana, as the Sith had insisted on being addressed. She knew his face well from studying the bulletins, but seeing him in person, she could see now how much he favoured his mother in terms of appearance. He certainly didn’t look like the type of person to orchestrate a plan to blow up an entire city, especially not when he smiled and his amber eyes softened. 

A commotion off to her right stole her attention. Turning away from Satele’s son, the Knight focused immediately on the girl who had reportedly murdered Valkorion. Senya’s first impression was of brightness — vivid red hair, a blazing, almost-familiar presence in the Force, and a delighted smile as she ran to embrace another redhaired woman in Jedi clothing who had entered the cavern. She certainly didn’t resemble a coldhearted assassin. If anything, her bright presence almost reminded her of Vaylin… or how Vaylin had been before she had been taken to Nathema. 

The former Knight of Zakuul sighed and dropped her gaze from the Jedi girl. “I can’t blame you for not telling me their names,” she quietly said, low enough that Satele had to strain to hear her. “I can hardly judge.” She took a shaky breath and looked at the former Grand Master, watching the Jedi’s eyes go wide with shock at her next words. “Not when my son is the one hunting them down.”

------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Fury raged through Arcann’s veins as he stalked back and forth in front of the Eternal Throne. The next person to deliver bad news to him was likely to be thrown off the walkway, run through with a lightsaber, or perhaps simply crushed to death with the Force.

The teams sent  to Tatooine turned up little more than exhaust fumes from the departed rebels. The inept Paladin had been far too slow to catch the resistance as they fled from the Fleet. For all that Arcann knew, Thunder themselves had been in that base, escaping before they could risk capture. Taking down the reputed coordinator of a sizable resistance group would be almost as great a boost to morale as capturing Taerich or Shan.

And that was another subject that enraged him. The few fragments of data collected from the ruins of the Dantooine outpost hinted that the two fugitives had been there; the former Jedi Grand Master had been confirmed by the presence of her personal ship. And yet, the Eternal Fleet patrol ship and its entire crew had been destroyed. He was still no closer to knowing who was responsible.

Had it been the Republic, coming to save their precious Jedi? The Empire, seeking Jedi playthings and not wanting to share? Imperius, or forces loyal to him, rushing to aid his Jedi sister and her people? Thunder’s forces? Arcann scowled behind his mask. There were too many options, too many variables, and not nearly enough answers.

“Brother.” Vaylin’s voice finally cut through the cloud of rage in Arcann’s mind. Judging from her tone, and her raised eyebrow and crossed arms, she had been trying to get his attention for some time now. “If you’re done stomping about for now?”

“There had better be an update,” Arcann growled as he stormed back up to the Throne, practically throwing himself into the seat. One eye glowered up at her. “What do you have?”

“Republic agents were seen on Dantooine, going through the ruins. Judging by the communications we were able to intercept, the poor idiots had no idea the outpost was even there.” Vaylin shrugged. “Clearly the Republic is even more inept than we thought, or it was a classified black-ops mission of sorts.”

The Republic, by all accounts, did have a few elite black ops teams who had survived the war and occupation. They had not been a priority of late, but Arcann filed that notion away for later consideration. His thoughts then lit on the one completely capable Republic commander he knew. “And Commander Malcom?”

“House Organa claims he’s been an honoured guest at their estate on Alderaan, this whole time. The spaceport records seem to support the claim.” Vaylin shrugged. “I suppose he really doesn’t care about his bastard son. Or he’s as stupid as the rest of the Republic and didn’t know about the Jedi outpost, or where Shan was last reported.”

That sounded like something Valkorion would have done, had he been in the same position as Malcom with the knowledge of where his offspring were. But if the Republic’s intelligence services hadn’t known about the Jedi hideout, perhaps the former Supreme Commander simply hadn’t known, either. “Has he been seen by any of our people?”

“He’s withdrawn into the castle after hearing about the raid.” Her voice was thick with contempt as she continued, “He’s reportedly in mourning .”

That was definitely not something Valkorion would have done. Arcann shrugged to himself. Malcom was clearly weak. “Anything else?”

“Still no news from the Empire regarding Imperius. But I do have one more little thing.” A smile pulled at Vaylin’s lips. “A diplomatic envoy from the Republic has contacted our diplomats, requesting parlay. Apparently the Senate believes that, since Satele Shan’s ship was on Dantooine and her body wasn’t, she was taken prisoner.” For a moment, the smile vanished in a frown. “Of course, this could be terribly awkward if news gets out that we don’t have her.”

“If news gets out,” Arcann said, grinning under his mask. This, he thought, could be a useful advantage. If Taerich and Shan had been on Dantooine, they had to know that the Grand Master wasn’t a captive. But the Senate didn’t need to know that, and it was doubtful Taerich or Shan would be in contact with the Chancellor. Then again, if the two fugitives hadn’t been on Dantooine at the time of the attack...

Yes… yes, he could use this.

[thessalian]

Thess vs Election Terror

Decent amounts of sleep, decent diet (comparatively) ... so of course I had to ask myself why I woke up with a blinding headache and miserable nausea. Then I realised: stress. Personal shit, agency shit ... and worst of all, tomorrow’s election day. I’m fucking terrified. The polls are bullshit, no one seems to care how much of an arse Johnson is making of himself... This morning, he was doing one of his photo op “getting busy with the people” bits of bullshit and a Good Morning Britain crew tried to talk to him. He hid in a fridge while his handlers verbally abused the camera crew live on air. And that’s just him being an arse, which he does with disturbing frequency - I don’t know why people are so gung-ho about his stupid “getting friendly with the workers” photo ops, particularly when it’s clear he’s disrupting the shit out of people’s working days - bad when it’s a bakery; worse when it’s NHS hospitals, particularly given what the last nine years of Tory government has done to the NHS. And speaking of the NHS, Johnson had the bad luck to be talking to a reporter around the same time as the shots of that poor kid was forced to lie on the floor while waiting several hours to be seen for suspected pneumonia. He tried the “didn’t see it, couldn’t possibly comment” crap, and that might have worked in the days before smartphones, but this reporter said, “Okay then, here, let me pull it up on my phone and show you so you can be held accountable”. But he wasn’t held accountable because not only did he avert his eyes from the reporter’s phone - he took the man’s phone away and stuck it in his own pocket. The reporter had to say, “Excuse me, you just took my phone”, effectively accusing him of theft - which had been caught on video - before he gave the phone back and said it was “a horrible picture” before getting back on the “Get Brexit Done” train.

This from the man who said this election wouldn’t be about Brexit.

(Oh, and let’s not get into the bot campaign that followed that effectively spammed social media with “One of my friends is a senior nurse at that hospital and they said the mother faked that - put her kid on the floor just for the photo op to sabotage the Conservatives!” They weren’t even clever about it; it got found out in about five minutes, and the hospital itself said, “No, actually, it did happen and we apologised - profusely and publicly - for it”. Didn’t stop the fake news from spreading. Between this and what I’m about to mention next? We’re becoming the US but worse at this point.)

Anyone who’s actually read the manifesto beyond “we’re not going to go overboard with taxes the way THOSE SOCIALISTS will and we will GET BREXIT DONE” should be terrified. Finally I’ve seen mention of the Human Rights Act - we scrapped ours some time ago, you see, because we had the European version to fall back on. If we leave the EU, we won’t, and we’ll have to write our own, and the Tory manifesto has some terrifying things to say about “balancing freedom with security”. It talks about taking power from the judiciary “to prevent it being abused”, after Johnson’s failed attempt to illegally prorogue Parliament. The Tory government has already given - not sold, but given - NHS data to fucking Amazon; anyone who does that is going to have no problem with selling off the NHS to the US piece by piece. Rees-Mogg has been making a packet off investments ever since this mess started, and isn’t it strange how his father wrote a fucking book about making money through disaster capitalism? Also, incidentally, it’s ridiculous how UK immigrants living in continental Europe will get the vote but anyone from continental Europe now living in the UK can’t and never will be allowed to vote in their country of residence. I wonder where that puts me; maybe it’s different for the Commonwealth, I dunno. Then again, they’re looking at instituting the kinds of things the US does as voter control - requiring ID at the polling booth, refusing to accept a PO box as a valid address... Johnson is taking his cues from Trump, and because we don’t have a written constitution? HE CAN GET AWAY WITH IT IF HE GETS A MAJORITY GOVERNMENT.

I don’t know which polls to trust, because we can’t trust the polls, because at this point we can’t trust anything. It used to be that I would vote LibDem, but after the ConDem coalition nine years ago, and how the LibDems did nothing to check the worst of the Tory bullshit, I do not trust them anymore. At this point, I am voting Labour because a) extremes are the only way we’re going to turn this shit around, b) I can’t trust the party I would usually vote for, and c) I’m not going to do anything to damage Labour’s chances at this point because they are the only party who can reasonably deny the Conservative party a majority in Parliament. I will settle for that - a hung Parliament where not even an alliance will help the Conservatives push their bullshit through. The Conservatives are boned for coalitions anyway - they can’t turn to the LibDems because of their opposed positions on Brexit; they can’t turn to the Greens because of their opposed positions on climate change, they can’t turn to the DUP because they burned their bridges pretty extensively by throwing them under the bus over the Northern Ireland issue as regards Brexit, Plaid Cymru and the SNP all hate the Tories in general and Johnson in particular for their ill-treatment of Wales and Scotland respectively ... all the Conservatives have is the Brexit Party, and they managed to knock Farage et al out of the race pretty securely. Whereas Labour stands a chance in hell of scooping up the LibDems and the Greens, and maybe making a government more people can stand behind. That’s if Corbyn will unbend on some of his tax policies ... and yes, over Brexit. He’s wanted out of the EU for awhile now, but it would be in his best interests now to at least get in with parties who will guarantee a second referendum, because after the last three years, people need another say. Too much has come to light, and too many people have frankly changed their minds.

But at the end of the day, it shouldn’t be about Brexit, this election. It can’t be. Look at what Johnson and his cronies are trying to sneak past us under cover of this jingoistic bullshit! Human rights, workers’ rights, food and environmental standards, legal checkreins on governmental bullshit - these things are all in jeopardy. Basically, we can’t let the Conservatives have a majority tomorrow ... but we might. Holy hell, no wonder I’m stressed to the hilt.

I should play video games and try to calm down. Take my mind off it. I can’t do anything about it. All I have is my vote tomorrow, and my fears. I can use the one and try not to let the other kill me.