#I may not think every result looks great like this one got a bit odd

[wardingshout]

The colours of your art are always so pretty !

aaaaah thank you so much !!!!! ;v; I had a rough stretch for a while but otherwise colours have always been my favourite part of drawing !!

[toweringclam]

Who is Godefroy? FINAL

So a while back, I started a series where I tried to puzzle out who Godefroy the Grafted actually was. I got a bit lost in the weeds and burned out before I could come up with a coherent theory, but it turns out the answer was stupidly simple and sitting right in front of me the whole time. And the story of Godefroy is a key to understanding all of Marika's offspring.

Godwyn, Godefroy, and Godrick are brothers

If there's one thing that's incredibly important for understanding Elden Ring lore, it's patterns. The same motifs will repeat again and again, and if something doesn't seem to fit the established pattern, it's probably worth a second thought.

One thing that seems to be accepted without question is that Marika's children with Godfrey were Godwyn, Morgott, and Mohg. But the problem should jump out at you immediately: every other group of divine siblings have names that start with the same letter. The pattern becomes even more apparent now that we have Messmer, presumably Miquella and Malenia's brother. This adds some new rules. Assuming this is replicated across all her offspring, the pattern is:

Three siblings

All start with the same letter

Twins and a spare

That brings me to:

Rykard and Radahn are twins

While they're never called twins, looking at their portraits side by side, it becomes pretty obvious.

Their different sizes could easily be explained by something like twin to twin transfusion syndrome, a concept very familiar to fans of the Locked Tomb series. We have the overgrown twin and the withered twin, plus their sister Ranni. We now have a pattern.

Melina is Mohg and Morgott's sister

This just leaves Melina, the potential Gloam-Eyed Queen. The strangest of Marika's children. May seem odd since she looks so young compared to them, but remember, she's a spirit. Her body was burned long ago, so there's no reason for her to age. That puts her in the second batch of demigod children, likely around when the Erdtree was burned for the first time.

The Grafted Twins' were born first

In fact, the age thing is a major clue to the timing of the Grafted Twins' birth. They are old and wizened in a way that none of Marika's other children are. If they are Marika's offspring, that must mean they were born before she gained control of the Elden Ring. The first child she bore under the new order was Godwyn the Golden, perfect in every way. More than anything else, this represented a shift in power.

The Golden Lineage is Godfrey's own

In all the Golden Lineage items, there isn't a single mention of Marika. Go back and look. Godfrey is mentioned, but not Marika. Rather than saying that this means she wasn't involved, i think it represents the shifting power from Elden Lord to God (or whatever Marika's position was before). There's barely any mention of Placidusax's god, so the title must not have been that important back then.

The M's are Marika's own

Following Marika's ascension, she started to wonder if she even needed Godfrey anymore. So she started to experiment. She sent her other self Radagon to Caria and used the power of the Crucible to create children on her own. The result was the warped Omen Twins and Melina, the Gloam-Eyed Queen.

Godfrey, Chad that he is, loved these divine bastards as his own, as seen when he gently cradles Morgott. This compassion was even extended to the children of Radagon, as Radahn shows great admiration for him. But Marika wanted her Empyrean offspring, so he had to go. She called back her other half and had another batch of kids, two (three?) of which came out as Empyreans.

I'm getting tired and rambling, so in conclusion:

Godefroy is Marika's first-born. Godwyn was just the first-born of the Golden Order.

[lamuradex]

I got some writing feedback today and I fear it may have broken me.

It wasn’t bad, or even poor feedback. It just kind of hurt.

Me having a bit of a meltdown below the cut.

So, some explanation.

Back in January, I entered the Cheshire Novel Prize. Basic sort of contest, near 2000 entrants, you enter your novel, 100 get through to Round Two, like 10 make Round Three, and the winner is selected from them. The first round results were announced back in April, but it's old hat to me because this is my third year entering.

And I have never made it past the first round.

I've been entering the same novel, Stitches of the Mind, for three years, polishing it up more and more each time. But I've never so much as made it to round two.

Now, I’m not surprised by this, and it’s mostly fine. Sort of upsetting, but my rational side tells me its fine. 100 spots out of 2000? 5% chance? How likely is that?

BUT one of the selling points of CNP is that every entrant, no matter how far they get, will receive feedback on their entry. Which is great!

This year though, the contest did a bit of a number on me. My self confidence in my writing, and all around need to be validated, has been a little fragile the past year, and the CNP do a lot to build tension concerning who’s made it through, so it was a long tense build up, months in advance, to a simple disappointing loss.

But I still had the feedback to look forward to.

The feedback usually takes a while to go out, there are a lot of people to email, and I was patient… mostly. Started to get a little antsy by mid-September. But today, 23rd of September, my feedback arrived. And it was everything I should have expected. A lot of nice praise, some stuff I can improve (though that was a little vague) and a final summary of some general tips.

And buried in all that feedback was this line:

"There is so much to like about this novel, and it was so close to progressing in the competition."

And that comment felt like it cracked my brain.

I was so close to progressing. And I didn't even know. But I'd still lost!

And I'd just been given feedback that, had I known it six months ago, could have meant I finally got to Round Two, which is honestly all I could hope for.

But discovering that I was that CLOSE TO SUCCEEDING!

FUCK!

I... don't really know what to do with all this. I know there's another editing run in my future, because of course there is, but I am still struggling to process this news. I'd have killed to get to Round Two, and receive even that little bit of validation that this novel is worthwhile! But no. I missed it by inches, if the feedback is to be believed. After three years I still missed it by inches.

I'm just a little exhausted now.

I think I need to go to bed. I'm a little sleep deprived anyway, having stayed up too late last night, trying to track down my past CNP feedback on an old computer. And then the new one miraculously arrived today. What are the odds?

But yeah, that's the meltdown I'm having.

How are you guys doing?

[crystalelemental]

And that's Gen 8 down. That was the new second fastest clear, again only losing to Gen 1.

My team was Rillaboom, Thievul, Mr. Rime, Butterfree, Alcremie, and Dragapult.

I had intended to rotate around my team more, but tried that early on and felt like it was taking like...actual farming time. I did rotate in some options, like Carkoal crushing Kabu, and Perrserker facing off against Opal and Melony both. Then there were the attempts to use Hattrem and Cufant, but not loving the speed issues. So we had some alternation, but not much.

The team performed well. Rillaboom is...decisively pretty good, I found. +Spd nature probably helped that. Mr. Rime was also excellent, being fantastic on coverage and just fast enough to make the whole thing work. Thievul was great at times, thanks to Nasty Plot + Dark Pulse. It never really used its coverage moves. Alcremie and Dragapult may as well have not existed. No I'm serious. Dragapult didn't fully evolve until after we beat Leon.

The odd one out was Butterfree. See, I did not come into this anticipating Butterfree. I was honestly looking at like...Falinks or something that I haven't touched before. But while I was hunting for Mime Jr, a Pokemon that only appears during a Snowstorm (note: not Snowing, which is different for arbitrary reasons) in one area (Rolling Hills), I found a rare den one day that turned out to be a Naive G-Max Butterfree. I had to run it. So I did! And let me tell you, Sleep Powder + Quiver Dance remains as endlessly hilarious as ever. Sweeps basically every fight that doesn't wake up in one turn. Notably: fuck both Rose and Piers. Butterfree got decent play, but not as much play as I would've liked. Mr. Rime felt like MVP, it just took on the lion's share of random encounters, and swept a few boss fights like Marnie and Raihan.

That said, there's an odd sort of...detachment from this particular team that's fairly hard to identify. The run time was around the same as White, so shorter than average but a bit longer than Gen 1. It's not like I had too little time with the team, which was largely consistent through the run. But having no time with Dragapult at all and minimal time with Alcremie, left me feeling a bit more disconnected. I also barely ran Rillaboom, despite my intent to use it the whole way through. I mean, I did, but the other three were just far more effective overall. Like, I taught it Earthquake, and yet when we came in against Rose, it turned out Escavalier leads and just one-shots with Megahorn. Even Nessa had enough resistance against Grass that, while it did win, it wasn't as clean as I'd appreciate. I dunno.

I did want to give this game an earnest try again, and I think it's at least quick enough to be enjoyable. But I also have to concede that's because I'm on break from my job for a while, and have the time to marathon. The run time is, in some large part, the result of resetting days for Mime Jr, and running early-game dens for new Pokemon, and then late-game alternation for the TRs we're after. Not exactly the fun aspects of the game. In fact when it was just playing, I blitzed from the end of Kabu's fight to the end of Raihan's in about three hours. Then the next three hours were just the cutscene heavy boss rush in Windon, and finding TRs. So if you calc out the 14 hour total run time, 8 goddamn hours was just the first section of the game, dealing with Wild Area and finding what I wanted to run. I have a bit of a problem with that in a structural sense. I'll admit that my initial response to the games was harsher than is warranted, but this one's still low on the list.

[yesimwriting]

The Needs of Pain

A/n as promised,,, here is my gift to you bc I finished ap gov today :))

The darkling x heartrender!reader story based on the whole ‘no one but me can hurt you’ thing :))

Warnings: sexual innuendos,, attempts to sexualize pain if you squint, kinda lemon-y

I kinda want to write a smutty part 2 let’s see lol 

Summary: after a training injury, Kirigan reveals how he views the dynamic of your relationship and figures out how to best help you work through the pian 

--

In an odd way, the most painful part of my injury had been the wound on my pride, not my shoulder. Though the pain that begins beneath my collarbone and continues down my left shoulder is not exactly pleasant. I can’t bring myself to pity myself too much as I stare at the extent of my burns. There’s a war going on. People die, people lose loved ones, I have to tolerate pain for an hour or two before a healer can be sent to be. 

I told Genya I’d be fine in the medical wing, but she insisted that I wait for a healer to be sent to me. The people here look up to me, if news of my injury got out, especially considering it’s a training wound, morale would take a blow we can’t currently afford. Genya had looked relatively sympathetic when she told me that many healers were occupied considering how difficult training had been and I had told her I could bear the weight. 

Now, in my room, staring at the basin full of water, I’m starting to regret my desire to be self sacrificing. I dip the towel in the water, squeezing out the excess before daring to dab the fabric on the outer edge of the wound. The feeling is fire against my skin all over again. An instinctual curse leaves me as I drop the towel on the counter that surrounds the basin. 

Arthur hadn’t meant it. I can still hear the frantic apologies tumbling from his full lips. He should have been more focused on the task at hand, he should have never stopped to look at me, at the way I could control so many living things at once. In some odd sense, his distraction had been a compliment. Many of the girls here would sell anything to have Arthur’s attention, even if it resulted in such a careless mistake. 

I grimace, picking up the towel and preparing to start again. I should at least clean it before the healers have to deal with both a physical injury and an infection. The sound of my door flying open and then shutting angrily is enough of a distraction for me to accidentally dab the towel against my skin too harshly. I curse again, turning my head towards the bathroom door. Did Genya exaggerate the severity of my wound? Are the healers that desperate to get to me? 

I turn on my toes, towel forgotten by the basen full of water as I approach the door that connects my room with the bathroom. “I’m--” Words meant to calm a frantic healer stick to the back of my throat as soon as I register all the black in the room. General Kirigan. Great. He no doubt heard about my injury after prying it from Genya and now he’s here to scold me for the childishness of it all. To be injured because a boy and I just couldn’t help ‘make eyes at each other’. All he does is insult my refusal to become bitter just because I was born possessing power. 

“You’re what?” His words are a different level of callous, darker than the shadows he creates with the will of his mind alone. “An idiot that let herself be sent back to her room instead of demanding to see a healer?” 

That’s an odd thing for him to focus his anger on. At least it’s not fully directed at me. On instinct, I half turn, attempting to hide my injury from his piercing eyes. My instinct tells me he should never see me so mortal. “Genya recommended it,” my words are determined yet calm, “It’s such a small injury it isn’t worth risking everyone’s morale. A healer will come here when one is available.” 

His face tightens in what must be some kind of disgusted disbelief. “Foolish girl--have you no instinct for preservation?” 

Every decision I’ve made since being injured made sense before he spoke to me. The fierceness of his voice leaves my face warmer than it was a moment ago and reminds me of the stem of my dislike for him. General Kirigan speaks and I am left a clumsy child. “Some things are more important than one’s self.” I expect he’ll turn that into something else to mock or belittle about me. “And it’s not a grave injury it’s barely--” 

The distance between us seemed so great less than a second ago, but he’s closed it so quickly, grabbing my left wrist and extending my arm forward so that I can’t hide anything from him. “You’re burned.” There’s the slightest bit of surprise coloring his words along with something else I can’t interpret. “How did you get burned?” 

Kirigan doesn’t know. My stomach knots, anticipating embarrassment. “Training incident--I was standing too close to an Inferni.” 

His grip on my arm tightens. I grimace as he pulls me forward with no regard for my injury. “Who?” The voracious way he says the word leaves my thoughts trembling. He is a void of darkness, starving for a victim to snuff the light out of.  

When my thoughts settle, I cannot bring myself to tell him the truth. “I didn’t see, I was distracted by the burning.” I exhale slowly, desperate to escape the flames behind his eyes the way I could not escape the fire of earlier. “It doesn’t matter, I’ve been injured worse in training.” His hold on my arm doesn’t loosen, I glance down at his hand, his firm grip on me somehow worse than the burn. “You’ve injured me worse in training.” 

“I may push you, exhaust you, and leave you mad--but I have never done anything that comes close to--that!” The last of his words carry themselves louder than the rest. 

If the skin of my shoulder wasn’t so sensitive I’d try fighting his tightening grasp. The accusation on my part had been a little much, but it was meant to serve as a reminder that he’s not one to care about my comfort or well being. “Why does it matter?” I can’t bring myself to meet his gaze. “You’ve never cared about any of my injuries before.” 

Kirigan releases my arm in a stiff trance, raising his hand to brush his thumb down my cheek. The contact is reminiscent of an extremely different moment. “The first night here you only let a few tears escape you when you were convinced that no one could see them. Do you remember how I turned and wordlessly wiped them away?” His gesture had not been comforting then and it isn’t comforting now. He never wanted to comfort me, he wanted to assert some strange power over me. “I let those tears fall because they were because of me and I knew it was for the best.” I say nothing, letting his thumb ghost tears that will not come. “The moment I discovered you, what you could be, you became mine.” 

“I am no one’s.” The reaction is instinctual, a pride my mother instilled in me. My voice is too loud, too brash. “I am my own.” 

I brace myself for his anger, but all I receive is the slight relaxation of his lips. “It’s things like that give you so much potential in other ways.” His voice is a jagged rock caressing my skin, not minding the scrapes it leaves behind. “You’re a fair plaything, as well as useful.”  

He’s speaking so gently his voice borders on vulnerable. Something in me warms, but I can’t tell why. I know that Kirigan finds joy in my discomfort--why else would he belittle me so often? “The healer will be here soon.” 

“Yes,” he makes no move to leave, instead Kirigan grabs my wrist again, forcing me to turn so that he can analyze the extent of my burn, “Which is why I will ask you again…” I try to catch his gaze, but his stone stare is focused on my burned shoulder entirely. “Who did this?” 

“I told you.” He can never know. “It was a training accident.” 

“And someone is responsible.” 

I let out a breath, tired of feeling so incomplete. I just want to be healed and go to sleep. “Why does it matter?” His fingers trail up my arm patiently, my body betrays me by shivering. “Accidents happen, you’ve put me in more risk than--” 

“I’ve always intended to break you one way or another,” his voice is more supple than it’s ever been before, “Your goodness is too tempting to not tarnish.” He turns my wrist over easily, ignoring my slight wince. “But if someone else were to do it…” Kirigan trails off, expression tightening in a way I can’t read, “I don’t let others break my play things.” 

Some strange resolve in my chest cracks at that. “Kirigan--” 

“Who are you protecting?” He moves his free hand, placing it without reservation on my shoulder. “Not telling me will only make it worse.” 

Thoughts of Arthur paying for such a small mistake leaves my stomach rolling in guilt. “Make what worse?” 

His expression tightens again. I wait for some kind of rebuke. Kirigan’s lips part as if he expects to criticize my naivety, but instead of speaking he turns sharply. He doesn't release his grip on my wrist as he leads me into my bathroom. 

“What are you doing?” 

Kirigan ignores my surprise, releasing me to pick up the towel I was so quick to abandon. “If you’re too good to take a healer from someone, you should at least avoid infection.” 

“I’m not an idiot, I was cleaning it.” The sharpness of my tone is ignored, Kirigan simply places one hand on my forearm to keep me in place. “Wha--”

 He brushes his thumb over my pulse gently in an effective attempt to silence me. I part my lips in hopes of protesting, but something odd reflects across his eyes. It must be some trick of the light because his expression seems...hesitant. Maybe even concerned. And then cool fabric is pressed into my burn. I bite my tongue so hard I’m surprised it doesn’t bleed. 

“Saints.” 

His expression shifts to that of almost amusement. “I think I’d like to hear you curse in a,” he exhales softly, fingertips trailing up my forearm, “Slightly different scenario.” 

The shock of such a bold innuendo clears my mind from thoughts of pain. But the most startling thing is that the innuendo isn’t entirely unwanted. In the wake of my surprise, he presses the wet towel into my wound again. I fight against a grimace, but that doesn’t go unnoticed by Kirigan. Instead of mentioning it, his free arm touches my uninjured shoulder. For the first time since he’s come here I’m aware of how improper my attire is. I changed out of my starched kefta and into a silk nightgown in order to leave my shoulder unbothered. Genya had helped me change, bearing all of my grimacing and pained curses. 

I should push him off of me. Kirigan can get away with a lot because of his status, but I by no means have to allow something like this. I should not feel shy, I should not be embarrassed. He’s the one that’s out of line. I look up into his eyes, prepared to yell at him for being so out of line. But when I meet his eyes, I see something so un-monstrous I am left breathless. There’s a gentleness to the way he tilts his head downwards, eyes never leaving mine. Is he asking for permission? Permission to--to what? I stay frozen as his lips brush against the unmarred side of my collarbone. His touch is almost enough to make me forget pain ever existed. He pulls away enough that I can feel his breath against the base of my neck. Thoughts I’d never dare speak are banished as the towel presses against my skin again. My face cringes immediately, but he’s quick to press his lips to the base of my neck, lingering kisses melting into my skin. 

“I thought you said you were fine.” His chiding is half-hearted, whispered between two brief kisses against my bare ski. 

He dabs the towel on the burn again, but before I can think to complain, his lips are against my skin again. This time, his lips part slightly allowing his teeth to graze over my pulse. Kirigan pulls away slightly, expression hardening, “I’m almost sorry about this part.” His words leave him in a whisper as influential as sin. 

“What part?” My voice feels foreign in my throat. 

Kirigan doesn’t reply, but then I feel the sharpest pain yet. The towel is cleaning the worst of the burn, the ruined patch of skin that will never recover without supernatural intervention. The gasp I let out is that of a bird with shattered wings. A cry forms in the base of my throat, but before it can leave me, Kirigan’s teeth bite into the skin above my pulse. The pained sound is reduced by my shock, twisting in an odd combination of some kind of pained sound and something dangerously close to a moan. 

He releases me with one last soft brush of his lips, straightening his back and retracting the towel. “There.” Kirigan drops the towel onto the bathroom counter. “It wasn’t that bad, was it?”

I can still feel the ghost of his lips, tongue, and teeth against my skin. I understand now. Each kiss had been a way to distract me, to lessen the pain. Something odd swells in my chest as I try to will my eyes to stop watering in pain. 

Kirigan presses his lips together, pressing his hand against my cheek again. His thumb brushes the few stray tears that escape me. “Don’t cry,” his tone is pure velvet, “I won’t tolerate tears in your eyes caused by anyone else.” He tilts his head oddly, hand sliding down my cheek before gripping my jaw, “I can provide reason for your tears if you’d like.” 

Inhaling deeply, I continue to stare at him. Today has been so sudden. He’s flirted with me through strangely sexual insults and threats before, but never has he been so forward about it. 

“I’m fine,” I force my voice to remain clear. He nods once. A soft rap at my door has me turning away from him. “The healer--I shoul--” 

“Come in,” he calls, voice clear and leaving no room for argument. 

My eyes widen. To be caught with him here could be detrimental for my reputation. Kirigan pulls away, something sharp playing at his features, something almost humorous. 

He leaves the bathroom like this is his own room. “Her wound is clean, work quickly.” I walk out of the bathroom in a strange trance. Kirigan’s gaze lands on me as I enter the main part of my room, “I need her at her full strength for what I have planned.” 

There’s a heaviness to his words, a weight that tells me he means more than what his words imply. Goosebumps erupt across my skin as I try to banish the thoughts of his mouth against my skin between inflictions of pain, blending together to create the most intense sense of fight or flight I’ve ever experienced. 

Kirigan begins to approach the door to my room. “I’ll be checking on her later.”

--

People that asked to be tagged in this/expressed interest:

@luminous-99 @voyevoda-thejoy @voidmalfoy @i-padfootblack-things @all-art-is-quite-useless @buckverse @mandowh0re @uhanddreag  

@we-love-our-bandz 

[robininthelabyrinth]

Nie Huaisang and Jiang Cheng start hooking up post-canon and Wei Wuxian assumes it's part of a scheme on Nie Huaisang's part. Possibly it was actually a scheme but Nie Huaisang got into it anyway. Or if sadness is more your thing, he didn't, and Wei Wuxian is left being like "see Jiang Cheng? I knew he couldn't have been hanging around with you for fun!"

ao3 (short)

“You need to stop,” Wei Wuxian said, his eyes narrow and expression fierce.

It was a lot less effective on Mo Xuanyu’s face than it had been on his original features. No one had yet told him, presumably out of a desire to avoid being murdered by Lan Wangji for making his lover sad.

Nie Huaisang frowned at him. “Stop…what?”

“Whatever it is you’re up to!”

Oh, were they doing this again?

Nie Huaisang opened up a fan and hid his face behind it in a single movement – he’d gotten really good at it over the years – and started idly fanning himself. “Wei-xiong, really, you’ll need to be more specific. I’m up to so many things, don’t you know…?”

Normally Nie Huaisang wouldn’t bother playing along, but he could see Jiang Cheng coming down the hallway at an angle that put him directly in Wei Wuxian’s blind spot – if there was one thing Jinlin Tower was good for, it was not seeing people – and he could already see Jiang Cheng starting to smile at his nonsense, which was obviously far more important than whatever it was that Wei Wuxian thought he’d figured out.

Hmm. Maybe Nie Huaisang was being too hasty in judging Lan Wangji’s rudeness – love really did make you do the stupidest things…

“I meant in relation to Jiang Cheng.”

Nie Huaisang stopped fanning and stared blankly at him. A few steps away from the turn, he saw Jiang Cheng come to a halt as well, already scowling.

“Jiang – Cheng?” he said hesitantly. “What exactly does Wei-xiong think I’m doing with Jiang-xiong?”

Wei Wuxian crossed his arms. “I’m not sure,” he said. “What are you doing?”

Nie Huaisang blinked at him. “But if I knew that, Wei-xiong, I wouldn’t have asked you, would I?”

The main problem Wei Wuxian had with confronting Nie Huaisang about anything, really, was that he genuinely found Nie Huaisang terribly funny. The twitching lips made the glaring more difficult.

(Behind him, Jiang Cheng was rolling his eyes, a full-body production that involved a great deal of heaving of shoulders and clutching at his head at the rampant stupidity on display. Nie Huaisang appreciated his lover's dedication to the art.)

Still – and this part was worrisome – Wei Wuxian’s smile faded away soon enough, replaced by a solemn expression.

“We may not be on the best of terms right now,” he said. “But he’s still very dear to me. I won’t put up with you using him as part of one of your schemes.”

“I don’t actually have any schemes,” Nie Huaisang said, mostly because Jiang Cheng was frowning now and Nie Huaisang did not want Wei Wuxian to mess up his budding relationship. “Really, Wei-xiong! I had one scheme, and it took me over a decade – I’m hardly the shadowy puppet-master mastermind you seem to sometimes seem to take me as. Why would you think that I’m using Jiang-xiong?”

“You’re deceitful,” Wei Wuxian said. “You made Jin Guangyao think that you were weak and dependent on him for years even as you plotted to bring him down. And now you’re pulling the same thing on Jiang Cheng – what am I supposed to think?”

Wei Wuxian must have seen them in the market, Nie Huaisang thought. He’d been carping around, playing up his good-for-nothing self – Jiang Cheng liked it when he did that. Mostly because Nie Huaisang really was a bit of a good-for-nothing, his one scheme claim to fame being firmly in the past; his cultivation was weak, his achievements few, his personality…questionable…

(Jin Ling had, upon discovering them spending time together, told Nie Huaisang that he fit everyone one of the criteria that Jiang Cheng had set out for a wife, right down to the weaker level of cultivation and the proper family background. Nie Huaisang had bought him some candy on the basis that ‘be nice to Jin Ling’ was on the list, and told him to think about the type of mileage he could get out of something like that. Jin Ling had looked appropriately thoughtful, after.

Nie Huaisang was a very good influence – or possibly a bad one, he wasn’t sure.)

At any rate, Jiang Cheng liked indulging him, liked and was reassured by the contrast between them. No one looking at them would ever put Jiang Cheng second – Nie Huaisang wasn’t even prettier! – except maybe in terms of insults, and even Jiang Cheng had to admit that he didn’t really want the privilege of being called the worst Great Sect leader, even if it was a superlative.

Wei Wuxian must have seen.

Wei Wuxian must have totally misunderstood.

“Jiang-xiong was at the Guanyin temple as well,” Nie Huaisang pointed out. “It’s not like er-ge at all.”

Wei Wuxian frowned. “Do you really have the right to call Lan-da-ge that?”

“My brother’s no less my brother because he’s dead, and he kept his oath to the end,” Nie Huaisang pointed out. “Why should the other two be released from the obligations of their oath just because they chose to foreswear their side of it?”

“Stop getting away from the point,” Wei Wuxian said, probably because Nie Huaisang was right. Bitter and mean and resentful, but right. “Whatever you’re scheming that involves Jiang Cheng, stop it.”

“No.”

Wei Wuxian blinked.

“I’m not scheming, but even if I was, the target would be Jiang Cheng,” Nie Huaisang explained. “You don’t understand, Wei-xiong. You see, I like Jiang Cheng.”

“I’m sure you do,” Wei Wuxian said. “But I also think you liked Jin Guangyao, a bit.”

Maybe he had. A bit.

But it wasn’t the same at all!

“I especially won’t tolerate you using him for sex while also –”

“Wei Wuxian!” Jiang Cheng bellowed, and Wei Wuxian jumped a chi into the air.

Nie Huaisang fanned himself. “Oh good,” he said. “I was about to be worried that you’d misunderstand, Jiang-xiong, but luckily Wei-xiong decided to take all the awkwardness onto himself.”

“What do you think you’re doing?” Jiang Cheng snarled at Wei Wuxian, who blanched but scowled back.

“I was just trying to help –”

“By embarrassing me?”

“How is it embarrassing to you?!”

“You think I’d be – what – led around by my dick like some new model Jin Guangshan –”

“Oh, that’s a good insult,” Nie Huaisnag said approvingly. “I’m going to need to use that in the future. What do you think the odds are for Lan Wangji biting me if I said it to him?”

That got both of them to stop fighting and turn to look at him.

“What? Does he only bite people he likes now? He used to bite everybody.”

Blank staring.

“That was back when he was five,” Nie Huaisang allowed. “It’s been a while.”

“You have stories about baby Lan Zhan?” Wei Wuxian said at once, as one might’ve expected. “I want them. All of them. Now.”

“Weren’t you threatening him a moment ago?!”

“That’s different! That was for you!”

“Right, because you don’t think anyone would actually like me,” Jiang Cheng said.

He sounded hurt.

Unacceptable.

“I’m sure Wei-xiong just meant that you were so unbearably attractive that people would compete for the opportunity to manipulate them into your bed,” Nie Huaisang assured him while Wei Wuxian was still trying to find words. “And since Wei-xiong thinks I’m the best schemer, obviously I won hands down, and secretly eliminated all my love rivals to boot. It's all my fault. Alas! I've been caught red-handed!”

“Are you actually capable of saying a single word that isn’t complete nonsense?” Jiang Cheng asked him, his tone having returned to exasperated and fond, which was worlds better than hurt.

Nie Huaisang considered the question seriously and then shook his head.

“You…! Good-for-nothing!”

Nie Huaisang nodded happily. “Your good-for-nothing,” he said cheerfully. “I’m going to make you do everything for me from now on.”

He was, too.

Wei Wuxian looked between them. “Wait,” he said. “Is this – a thing?”

“If you mean Jiang-xiong and I, yes,” Nie Huaisang said. “He’s been courting me for years, and I refused.”

“Only on the basis of a secret murder plot which you didn’t want to get me involved in.”

“How was I to know that everything would turn out well in the end? I thought there was every chance san-ge would find a way to drag me down with him. I couldn’t let that happen to you, of course.”

“Of course,” Jiang Cheng jeered, but he looked pleased and smug the way he always did when Nie Huaisang admitted to having been won over by the very first day of his courtship, years ago. He liked being successful at things.

“No,” Wei Wuxian said. “Not that. The – good-for-nothing thing. It’s a thing. For you two.”

“Fighting words,” Nie Huaisang remarked, even as Jiang Cheng flushed red. “Coming from the dreadful Yiling Patriarch that needs to be defeated by the mighty and righteous Hanguang-jun and then taken away for a good ravishing –”

“Wei Wuxian!”

“Uh - listen – I can explain – actually, no, I can’t. Nie-xiong, you have my blessing, just don’t break his heart, bye.”

“Come back here you -!”

Yes, Nie Huaisang decided, watching Jiang Cheng chase Wei Wuxian. This was the best possible result.

[raven-at-the-writing-desk]

hey, could i ask for rook, idia, jade, lilia and leona seeing their s/o getting giddy over something, like over this new snack they got from a friend or their socks being extra fluffy for example? just, s/o being super happy over something seemingly ordinary, please and thank you!

Curiouser and Curiouser...

Rook delights in knowing that you’re similar to him—able to appreciate even the most mundane things in life, from the birds’ morning warble to the crisp evening breeze. It makes him feel all the closer to his beloved!

He likes to watch your face light up when you get excited. There’s just something so magical about how the corners of your mouth lift, and how your eyes glitter and crease from happiness.

Rook supports and encourages your giddiness, oftentimes adding other minor things to be delighting in: the clear blue sky overhead, the pleasant warmth of the sun, the aroma of wildflowers upon the wind... Sometimes you spend whole afternoons just leaning against one another and exchanging positive remarks on the world around you

Knowing that you get excited by even ordinary things, Rook goes out of his way to grace you with small acts of affection. He might produce a little flower from behind his back—just a common daisy plucked from the courtyard lawn—to tuck behind your ear, or give you a wink in passing. Rook wants to take every chance he can get to bring that pretty smile to your face.

Idia really doesn’t get why you can get so excited over little things. If it were him, he wouldn’t be satisfied with just consolation prizes or participation trophies. Idia tends to think in formulas and strategies that will produce the results he wants (which is usually nothing short of an overwhelming victory), so it’s very difficult for him to understand your point of view.

He eventually asks how you can be happy with getting the bare minimum (that crappy common item, or the pitiful free R card, instead of an ultra rare raid drop of an OP SSR with a 0.01% chance to pull). Idia is visibly startled and confused when you reply that you can’t explain it at all, it’s just how you are.

He just shakes his head and mumbles that he really, really doesn’t get you at all--but that he’s glad anyway, since you can be happy with what you have, instead of what you could have. The feeling of missing out has caused Idia to whip out his wallet on more than one occasion to snap a limited time SSR only for it to be powercrept a few months later, and he doesn’t want you to experience the same things!

Your optimism shines a patch of sunlight into his gloomy world. Idia may not express it out loud much, but he’s glad to have you at his side to keep him from straying too far into the darkness.

Jade may not always empathize with your sentiments, but he finds viewing your reactions to simple things to be one of the greatest joys in his life. While he tends to take sadistic pleasure in everyday happenings, he also finds your pure, unadulterated feelings to be amusing take.

At times, Jade teases you by pointing out that your giddiness is like that of a kid in a candy store. In truth, he’s right--but you never let that bother you, you just roll with it and banter right back.

He doesn’t often get to take a break between his busy school and work schedule, so he often considers your enthusiastic rambles as one of his few chances for repose. There’s just something so soothing to him about listening to you gush about such innocent things after a long, frantic day.

Jade particularly appreciates it when you get excited about nature, as it gives him a reason to join you in geeking out. He enjoys being able to share his knowledge of various plant and fungi with you through his mountain expedition logs and notes.

Lilia finds your ability to be pleased with little things admirable—and quite an odd trait to find in humans, actually! Most take their lives for granted until late in age, so it’s refreshing for Lilia to see a younger human taking a different approach.

Despite having lived for quite some time, Lilia’s willing to try out both old and new things alike to get a fresh perspective on them. In fact, he asks you to “teach him” your ways--which you happily oblige.

Whatever you show Lilia, he gets just as excited as you do to experience them. He enthusiastically wiggles his toes in a brand new fluffy pair of socks and eagerly offers a bite of his chocolate biscuit sticks. It surprises even you a bit how appreciative Lilia is of the things he has no doubt already experienced countless times already in his lifespan.

With a toothy grin, he reassures you that every experience is worth reliving and holding close to his heart, especially now that he gets to share them with you.

Leona barely budges or bats an eye at whatever it is you’re excited about, and he makes little to no effort to pretend like he’s interested. He grumpily tells you whatever you’re worked about over isn’t worth kicking up such a fuss about. (Sometimes he’ll mention that your behavior reminds him of his furball of a nephew, Cheka.)

His selfishness and arrogance get the best of him . He can’t understand what’s so great about the little accessory you bought today--by comparison, he has his eyes trained on a far greater prize in the long run: the crown.

Though cheeriness over small things grates on him from time to time, Leona tries to be patient with you and give you a chance to share your excitement with him... but he usually starts drifting off to sleep or losing interest in the middle of it, instead allowing his eyes to wander all over your mouth and face.

... But, if Leona is being entirely honest with himself, he has to admit that he finds your enthusiasm (annoyingly) endearing. For that reason alone, he secretly looks forward to seeing a dumb smile plastered on your face again and again.

[monstas1ut2]

1/3 (Eren Yeager)

(๑˃ᴗ˂)ﻭ

Bitches is my sons, that's why I be like, "Chile"

Chile, chile, chile, chile, ch-i-i-i-chile

At the lowest volume, Nicki was spitting bars. The LED lights on the brightest red there's to come as the window was covered with black out curtains. It happened to be bright outside but who opens their curtains at 8 am in the morning..? People who are productive and that's not you.

"Don't spend hours in there, brat."

A pout came onto your face, almost sucking your teeth... it wasn't going to be long until you were finished. Nonetheless though, your father always thinks you take hours to get ready to go somewhere.

"Im not ,daddy... Ion even wear makeup no more.. so it won't take long.."

Leaning towards the mirror, and pressing the lipgloss tip against your soft lips, your thoughts came around to your father.

Levi Ackerman, he's a short male who is quite intimidating, he IS intimidating. Despite his height, he's always winning a battle, whether it's verbal or physical. Which is why you always fail to win an argument against him. This was noticeable when you moved to his house ten months ago.

Before living with Levi, you were living with Hange.

Hange co-parents with Levi, the two were never together but they kept you happy and they are both Mom and Dad to you. The two are so different though. Hange would let you skip school, get ready late, almost everything in the book. She had to stop you from getting a sugar daddy though-

Levi is strict, he doesn't want anyone or thing touching his pretty Princess. Yes you're not biologically his but he still is your father, the only one you'd ever had. He taught you things, showed you the great life. He tried to get you to speak a bit more proper but he just stopped, oddly enough, he wanted you to embrace everything you had to offer.

It was a pain learning about your background, Hange was bad at doing anything for you as well. In result of this, your hair has dreads. Watching YouTube videos was Levi's new thing when you were younger. He managed to skillfully put dreads in your hair and... now they look quite amazing. Very long and pretty on you.

That's something you embrace, those pretty dreads. Knowing that your father put them in first , is one reason as to never take them out.

"I'm done, and, Mom said stop ignorin her... she wanna have a picture of me.. since it's my last year I guess.. ion know.. but she blowin up my phone.."

A bit of a smile casting on your brown skinned face. Fiddling with the phone in your hand. Today you were wearing a Jean like skirt and a black top to go with. Your med-long nails being a mix of white and gold, it complimented the melanin of your skin.

Levi glared at his phone that was vibrating on the nearest table and he'd sighed inwardly. Hange was so excited for your last year, while Levi was not. He also hates the fact that you are now going to the same school that he works at... the only bad thing being... the men there are complete perverts and prudes.

"Tell that bratty friend of yours to do it-"

"Connie isn't a brat, he just a lil mental..."

A lot of bald guys seemed to be mental, or is that just... stereotypical to say? Eh, either way, your Connie was mental. The guy was hilarious, he always knows how to put a smile on your face. Even though you two used to be fairly seperated. You now go to his school so at least you'll have one friend to lean on.

"dad, can you at least be happy for me...? It's my last year of school, not my last year of me bein in ya house.. cuz ion know how to cook... or do adult stuff.." a sheepish smile came upon your face, just staring at your father who happened to be suppressing a smile. He eventually did not though, but... you are the only person who can make him smile..

"I know, you burned down a kitchen before.." An evil smirk cascaded on his pale face. He knew that would hit you where it hurts, considering you were now silent but squinting your eyes playfully. It definitely wasn't Levi's kitchen, it was Hange's kitchen.. she had to get it remodeled.

Honestly, Levi liked that you couldn't cook, that way, douche bag men will stay away from you and it'll prevent them from making you barefoot and pregnant in a kitchen... he overthinks okay?

(๑˃ᴗ˂)ﻭ

Gripping your wrist ever so tightly, the two of you were walking towards the huge school. It was more of a modern taste, probably because the school was built only 6 years ago. The scale of the school had caused your body to overheat from anxiety. So actually, Levi was pulling you towards the school, no effort needed.

Once that door was open, it was all over. The main entrance had a pretty scenery. It was pictures and everything, though something that was odd was that black people were limited, looked like-

Okay okay, you're overthinking, but this school really doesn't have black people. If they do, they are in sports... which is why there was a man constantly talking on and on about female's basketball team...

You have to admit, you are a stallion.

"She doesn't want to be on the team... Shadis... stop yelling in her face.."

A bit of a concerned smile came upon your face as you glanced towards your father. Who only gave a soft look towards you. Levi may be insensitive at times but when it comes to you being nervous.. he's there.

"Where the hell is the principle..." Levi grumbled under his breath, he was quite late for his class.. but he had to make sure you were going to be fine.. like the worried father he is.

And Like on cue, a fine.. smexy blonde man came from the back door of the front office.. oooh.

His eyebrows were thick and he had this smile on his face. Like he knew who you were, though at the same time he probably already did. This man was in pictures at home, Levi knew him personally.

Apparently this man changed your diaper when you were little too.. so.. low chance of him seeing you any different..

Principal Smith... oohhh

"Levi, I told you yesterday, she'll be fine in my hands.. I can make sure she gets to every class. I'll also make sure nobody messes with her.." Erwin hummed out, knowing these words that came from Levi last week. His voice was deep and sincere, his pretty blue eyes glancing you over.. gawd oh mighty.

"And?" Levi's eyes squinted hard, his face quite serious about the last statement that Erwin seemed to pass by... or forgotten.. Man, someone would think Levi is the principal... and not Erwin.

"I'll make sure Yeager stays away from her.."

(๑˃ᴗ˂)ﻭ

The bell had rung oh so suddenly, the anxiety in you causing you to need to go to the bathroom but... your ancestors had to come down.

They whispered into your ear and explained that you are the baddest bitch in the world. Nobody can take that away from you, nor can the stupid anxiety.

"This is my daughter, (Y/n)... "

The baddest bitch with anxiety...

Every single eye was on you, in front of the class... it was obvious that most were just curious about you, mixed with shocked. When they heard the other day about getting a new student, they figured that it'll be someone... like them. At the same time though.. they could get used to the.. balance of the room.

The window across the room was beaming on your brown skin and it happened to make you look like a goddess. Your lipgloss sparkling as you glanced around, a soft smile on your face. Honestly, that only happened because of the fact that.. your bald friend was waving to you..

Connie...

The other day, a deal was made... Between you and your father. Who is also now your teacher for first period.

The deal was, you clean your room spotless and you get to sit next to Connie in class. Guess who succeeded?...

Your arms wrapped around male as he was blushing a tad. Being almost manhandled by you was everyone's dream at the moment. Especially a male who was behind you and Connie's table. He had this cool haircut, his face was long too but it fit his features.

"Why is she hugging the egg..."

"Jean you're just jealous.." the person who said this happened to be playing with their pencil. She had black hair and.. freckles.. it was cute. She looked mean though.

"Okay and..?"

Connie then began to of course, show off his best friend.. who happened to be you. Apparently what happened was that he told everyone about you one day. Nobody believed him, and Jean being the asshole he is.., he wanted answers so he -reluctantly- asked Levi if he had a daughter...

They weren't expecting someone like you...

Nor was.. this brown haired male who had his eye on you ever since you came in. His intimidating... blue, greenish looking eyes.. it's not something you failed to realize... but at the same time, you could feel your father's eyes as well.

"That's Eren over there, by Armin and Mikasa... he's a little coo-coo... so just talk to Armin and Mikasa.. then that's Bert , Annie, and Reiner, and Ymir, Jean, Sasha is the one eating and Historia.."

Honestly, you were never one to listen to someone when they say don't do something... Connie said don't talk to Eren... but some how... with the fluttering of your eyelashes.. you gave the long haired boy a wink. The wink sending him a burst of confidence that he already had..

it just got worse..

(๑˃ᴗ˂)ﻭ Masterlist 2

[egg-emperor]

Since you hint at Modern Eggs having gigantism, how tall exactly is he in your thought? Is he 6"1 like he is canonically, just with odd proportions in terms of hands and feet? I'm curious on it!

I like to keep it accurate so he's still 6' 1" but I imagine his condition did contribute to his height a bit, as male Robotnik family members were typically slightly under 6 ft but it resulted in him surpassing them as the tallest. It also showed in delayed puberty and growth, he was very short as a teen until a huge late growth spurt that seemed to happen overnight. People were alarmed and impressed and Ivo was delighted and proud to suddenly go from looking up to looking down at them lol. After that, various body parts couldn't seem to stop growing for a while!

And it could potentially serve as an explanation for how he's taller as modern than classic, despite how they're both adults that are meant to be fully grown and the exact same guy. Perhaps he might have been a little under 6 ft for a while but surprisingly continued to get a bit taller in adulthood. Yeah they claim classic is the same height but look at them in Generations, modern's limbs are undoubtedly longer lol. I consider changing the height for classic for that but I won't say modern is taller than he's stated to be, unless something pointed to otherwise.

A difference with X Eggman is that it actually did affect his height way more prominently because he's visibly double his usual height in the show for some reason (yet still tried to say he was 6' 1" lmfao absolutely not) and I love how huge he is. XD I see people theorize that it's because he isn't fully human but he was confirmed to come from the human world of the two worlds in X, so it would make more sense for it to be a gigantism type condition that makes him uniquely large. I feel it works well for both modern game and X Eggman, instead of saying they're not human.

Game Eggman may not be far above average for male height but his condition shows in the size proportions of his body so much more. His hands, feet, literally every other part of his body (yes, everything 👀), even his organs and bones are larger than average to some extent, sometimes to a surprising degree. So how huge he is doesn't come from height alone, what really makes him look like such a giant to others most are the comparison of their body parts before height. He's not around other humans often so he forgets how drastic it is at times.

He has a lot of great advantages with his impressive size combined with his strength, he likes to show off and likes how it can be both intimidating and loveable. But how clothes never fit so they all have to be custom made and tailored, how his hands are too big for items made for average humans, how furniture is often too small, and how his size has to be considered for intake of food, medication, etc, is bothersome to him. Everything has to be custom made, altered, and considered to suit him. He also has a few symptoms similar to real life gigantism.

It was genetic thing passed down in the Robotnik family on his father's side but his father and grandfather Gerald had milder cases that affected their proportions too but barely their heights. The effects on Ivo were much more severe, he got taller than they were at any age and his proportions would be much larger than theirs in comparison too. I also headcanon that he ends up becoming the heaviest for unrelated reasons, despite being heavy set also being common with male Robotnik family members. So he's the real big boy of the family in multiple ways, which is a title he's proud to hold XD

While I do of course love the concept of way taller Eggman like in X and find it a lot of fun to imagine being with a version that tall too, the one I think of most is the game version as my absolute favorite and I like to keep the details accurate. So I'm always picturing game modern Eggman specifically as the 6' 1" he is, which is still a nice height but he's especially a very large boy in terms of his weight and his far bigger average proportions most heheh. He's truly peak bear material, I love my giant husband so much fhdbdkgskgkh 🥚🐻🥰💘💕💜

[tarysande]

S6 Thoughts: A Tale of Two Brothers

But wait! There’s more. Thoughts on the overall arc of the series, Heaven and Hell edition:

In S1, Lucifer is “vacationing” on Earth but doesn’t plan to return to Hell. Amenadiel spends that season trying so hard to force Lucifer back to Hell, where he “belongs,” that he himself Falls. We’ve got this role reversal of an angel doing evil things to return the devil (doing ... good things, like solving crimes) to Hell. It’s all very “The road to hell is paved with good intentions.” 

In S2, Lucifer still has no plans to return permanently to Hell, but he’s willing to face it to save Chloe. Of course, this then leads to him experiencing his own forced hell-loop. Amenadiel is also conflicted. Though he’s changed enough that he no longer wants to force Lucifer back to Hell, he’s still uncertain where that leaves either of them. In fact, even when Lucifer pleads with Amenadiel to return him to Hell, Amenadiel refuses. However, when Mum plants the idea of returning to Heaven as a family, Amenadiel clings to that. He’s looking for a purpose. Lucifer, on the other hand, is still very much aboard the Heaven nope train. Here, we also get the foreshadowing of celestial war, and Lucifer’s rejection of Mum’s plan because “In war, there are always casualties.” He would rather sacrifice one--Mum, Uriel--for the many. But it hurts him. If he belongs anywhere, he thinks, it’s Earth ... but, ultimately, that’s shortsighted because we know he doesn’t actually want to be on an Earth that doesn’t have the people he’s coming to care about on it.

S3 is, as we all know, a bit of a mess. But, hey, it’s actually thematically appropriate! Lucifer’s having an identity crisis (wings) that just keeps giving (or taking), and even though subconsciously (we later realize) he gave himself the wings because he was, in fact, making progress reconciling his past and present, his conscious is backsliding like (pun not intended) hell. Much as he wants Earth to be home, he’s got these non-stop reminders of both Heaven and Hell. It makes complete narrative sense that this season reaches the point where he can no longer hide from himself--or from Chloe. 

In this season, we also see Amenadiel really start to settle into the idea of staying on Earth, of embracing humanity. He’s shedding the aloofness he once had. He’s learning (we later realize) how to be the kind of God who sheds mysterious ways in favor of boots on the ground. I mean, he doesn’t realize this. But Dad ... well, he has a Plan. Lucifer begins the season with sudden wings. Amenadiel ends it with his wings’ very deliberate return. 

In many ways, this season is about Hell on Earth and torture at the hands of an entity far more intentionally and deliberately evil than the actual devil. This is why the catalyst of Cain is so important. He is all the things Lucifer has been accused of being, only he embraces it in ways we’ve seen Lucifer reject and recoil from again and again. This season is torture (lol). It’s Hell. It’s every ugly thing lies beget. And much as we love Lucifer, we’re given an extreme close-up of how his omission of truth is very nearly as devastating as Cain’s outright lies. Of course, this nearly results in Chloe’s death (in more ways than one; you can’t tell me that godforsaken marriage wouldn’t have been like dying), and the devil’s vengeance results in the removal of Lucifer’s choice about the where and when to reveal his true nature to Chloe. 

Which brings us to S4, aka The Season of Angst. For Lucifer (and Chloe), anyway. Not so much for Amenadiel, who is set on the path of fatherhood, of responsibility, of partnership and not just commands he expects to be followed. In case we’ve forgotten how much Amenadiel has changed, Remiel “mini-Amen” shows up to remind us. In Linda’s “When angels fall, they also rise” of it, Amenadiel is rising again. He’s not the same as he was, no, but ... we didn’t like old Amenadiel very much, did we? Like Lucifer, Amenadiel is on a journey of learning who he is, the good and the ugly, so he can choose the parts he wants to keep with both eyes open. 

Of course, while Amenadiel is rising, Lucifer is falling. In having to deal with Chloe’s reaction to his devil face, Lucifer is put in the uncomfortable position of either growing enough to face his own darkness and self-loathing or retreating, very literally, into who he used to be because it’s comfortable and less frightening than the prospect of change and the unknown. Until it isn’t, right? The more he becomes the devil Eve remembers, the more uncomfortable he becomes. And the more frightening he becomes. Not to Chloe, as he fears, but to himself--though it takes a while to recognize it. If nothing else, we have to hand this to Lucifer’s subconscious: when it wants him to PAY ATTENTION DUMMY, it’s pretty good at getting its point across. If S3 was Hell on Earth starring Cain as the devil, S4 is Hell on Earth starring, well, the devil as the devil with bonus demons. It’s Lucifer’s earthbound iteration of a guilt-induced hell-loop. And at the tragic end, he chooses to return to the place he swore he’d never return, losing everything good in the process, but doing it for selfless reasons. So, that’s new. And it’s why there was still a sliver of hope even when things looked impossibly dark.

S5 begins with Lucifer in Hell--farther from the things he cares about than he has ever been, but also closer to his true calling. Not that he realizes it; this is Lucifer we’re talking about. So, of course it makes sense that as the season goes on, he’ll end up confused by suddenly having everything he always thought he wanted within his grasp. The Lucifer who led a rebellion against his father because he thought he could do better than God? Of course that part of him wants to be handed the job now. No--he wants to earn it. And while some of his reasons are not great, others are. His heartbreak about the injustice and unfairness of life, well ... who hasn’t felt that way? Who hasn’t wanted the power to unilaterally make things better? But that’s not how free will works. That’s not how choice works. While Lucifer wrestles with the necessity of becoming God, Amenadiel recoils from what his S1 self would have seen as his right and his calling. S1 Amenadiel would have made a terrifying and inflexible and absolute and judgmental God. Perhaps even a God closer to our imaginings of Evil than Good.

S6 is about how sometimes personal growth means we grow out of old dreams and acquire new ones. Sometimes, it’s about reimagining those old dreams, rebuilding them with new information. For Amenadiel, that means recognizing that the person he is now is the best man for the Big Job. It means recognizing that Heaven can be (a place) on Earth if he wants it to be. It means he sets aside the pride of “If God wants something done, he sends ME” in favor of delegation and accepting help--and in doing so, helping others (his siblings) discover their callings too. He learns to lead by example, tempered with love and humility.

In Paradise Lost, Milton’s Lucifer famously declares that it is better to rule in Hell than serve in Heaven. But our Lucifer ... his calling isn’t ruling in Heaven. That’s the old dream of a person who no longer exists. Ironically, Lucifer’s calling is to serve in Hell. Not to serve a distant, ineffable, unfathomable being’s mysterious ways, mind you, but to tangibly serve the humans he has come to love, and who have taught him so much about himself. Who have taught him about love and sacrifice and light and darkness and second chances and hope and faith. When Lucifer chooses to return to Hell, he does so with his eyes open, just as Chloe returns to the LAPD with her eyes open. It’s a lesson that revisits the first episode of the season: Truth and wonder don’t have to be at odds. They can go hand in hand. The mysteries at the heart of pain and suffering and trauma--those are the ones Lucifer wants to solve. Because solving them isn’t about trusting to a higher power (aka the justice system, which is flawed) or designing the perfect torture. It’s about quite literally helping others set themselves free. Finding release. It’s about being a guide, not a judge. And it’s about fulfilling not the temporary desire that merely scratches the itch, but offering the tools necessary to help others determine--choose--their path to the desire they may not even realize is buried beneath the layers of scar tissue within them. And what could be more wonderous than that? Especially when you have a partner who makes you better at your calling, even as you make them better at theirs.

In the end, Heaven and Hell are what we make of them. One person’s Heaven is another person’s Hell. Love is what matters. In all its many, many forms.

[gwynrielendgame]

Gwyncien part 2

Do not fret there is also a bit of gwynriel in this too. I’ll be tagging people who asked for this specific part 2 below.

Lucien hated coming to the night courts winter solstice celebrations. The sole reason he went every year was because of Feyre's birthday, contrary to popular belief that it was to see his mate. He much preferred to avoid his mate instead of sit in a room with her and the Shadowsinger. But he suffered through it for his friend, potentially his only true friend. She had been better to Lucien than he ever had to her, so in a way he was trying to earn her forgiveness- even if she claimed to have already given it. He secretly hoped to see Gwyneth Berdara again this year. She was beautiful- much like he remembered her mother looking. However, he truly just liked talking to her, to someone who understood the pain of a disinterested mate. It was a nice perk that it also seemed to enrage the one male to have caught his own mate's attention. He felt a bit smug about that if he was honest with himself. His three gifts were tucked neatly at his side as he stared up at the mansion. Feyre created a beautiful house. He should not have expected anything less given her paintings. He needed a moment to gather his bearings after winnowing directly to the river house. He would stay for an acceptable amount of time, or at least enough time to make Feyre happy, and then he would depart. It always made his skin crawl to be around Elain, simply because he knew it displeased her. He could do this though-for Feyre.

"Are you going in? Or do you plan to stare at the door a little longer?" A giggle escaped from the female behind him. He turned quickly only to let out a breathy chuckle himself.

"Did you want a turn staring at it? We could do it together. Might make the evening more bearable somehow." Lucien sent the copper haired female a half grin which she returned with one of her own.

"You caught me. I was hoping to have my turn to avoid going in as long as possible, but alas it appears I may need to share." Gwyn gave a long sigh as if she were exasperated by the situation. The easy banter between the two started to loosen the knot that had formed in Lucien's chest.

"It's lovely to see you once more, priestess. You look beautiful." And she did. The last time he had seen her, she was wearing her priestess robes. This time around she wore a loose black dress. Her hair was mostly down with some braids keeping it out of her face and a dainty necklace around her neck. Some might say she looked rather plain. Lucien knew better than that. For her, this was a big step. To be dressed at a celebration in anything other than her robes had to be stressful. A magnificent smile lit up her face.

"You look rather handsome yourself. I was actually hoping to see you tonight. I wanted to discuss a few things." She looked around as though someone might be eavesdropping. "Not right now though." He had a feeling he knew what she wanted to discuss.

"My ears are yours whenever you need them." Lucien then offered his arm to her. She slipped her hand through the crook as they made their way through the door. The night suddenly seemed less daunting. He could face Elain and Azriel tonight without his emotions getting the better of him. Gwyneth would keep him busy that much he knew and was thankful for the unspoken deal they seemed to have made. They would stay by each other's side tonight if only because most of the night court's inner circle had paired off. Rhysand never truly left Feyre's side, Varian is the only one to actually enjoy Amren's company, Cassian and Nesta disappeared to have sex rather frequently, Emerie and Mor spoke in hushed whispers to each other most evenings Lucien attended, and most unfortunately Azriel and Elain never really left each other's side these days. Lucien normally felt like the odd one out, but without Gwyneth it would have been painfully obvious.

+++

The night had been rather overwhelming for Gwyn. She had been around the inner circle a handful of times most recently, but having so many dynamics in one living room felt stifling to her. Nesta's relationship with her sister's was still rocky at best, Amren usually said something to piss someone off, Azriel and Elain being around appeared to make everyone uncomfortable, and apparently Gwyn and Lucien being friends seemed to make the group just as uncomfortable. Gwyn could not figure out why. If perhaps the irony of the situation was too great or if Lucien's background had something to do with it. Whatever the reason, almost everyone tonight side-eyed Gwyn as she sat with Lucien. She knew Elain and Azriel thought she was doing it just to piss them off. Gwyn just truly enjoyed Lucien's company. He was easy-going and made many jokes. When Gwyn was not engrossed in conversation with Nesta or Emerie, she was joking with the one-eyed male. If only he had been her mate she had thought to herself.

"Present time!" Mor exclaimed from her spot on the couch next to Emerie. Gwyn felt herself becoming red- she had not realized that gifts were exchanged here. She had already exchanged gifts with Nesta and Emerie (a song for Nesta that was recorded on her music box from Cassian and a particularly steamy book for Emerie that included two female leads). She felt overwhelmed as everyone started setting gifts beside her. While Gwyn felt ready to leave the House of Wind, she had not managed to venture the streets of Velaris. She could have asked the House for gifts for everyone, but truly she did not even think anyone would get her something. The most surprising to her was when Lucien plopped a gift on her lap. She could not hide her shock.

"I am sorry. I did not get you anything." She felt ashamed and refused to look up from her hands as she addressed everyone. "I did not realize you all exchanged gifts. I am sorry." She repeated.

"We did not expect you too." Feyre sent her a small smile. "We got you something because we wanted too, not because we wanted something from you." The tension eased the slightest bit. That did not stop the red from flaming her face.

"I expected a gift." Lucien announced loudly. It had Gwyn cringing. "I demand you play us a song." Lucien was sending her a grin that released the rest of the tension in her chest. Azriel shot the pair an icy stare, not necessarily a glare, but close enough.

"Yes!" Nesta shouted after him, clearly having one too many sips of wine. Gwyn could not hold back her giggle. "You have to sing for us. Your voice is beautiful."

Gwyn could feel Azriel's stare from across the room. It had shifted into a less hostile look. It did not appear as though he was trying to hide his interest though. A conversation between the two suddenly popped into her head.

Do you, though? Sing?

Yes.

She wished now more than ever to hear him sing. She wanted to sing with him, but was not willing to put herself out there in front of everyone. He would likely say no and then she would have to scrape any piece of humility she had left to sing alone after rejection. She would not ask Azriel to sing with her- this time. She hesitantly sat at the piano, Nyx sitting by her feet watching intently. As soon as she started playing the toddler laughed and clapped his hands. It gave her the confidence to keep going. She sang one of the many songs she had memorized. There was really nothing special about it, but she felt alive especially with the way Azriel was staring at her. She could almost feel his shadows slipping towards her. She missed them. Actually, she missed everything about Azriel. Before the whole mating bond/Elain situation, they had been friends. He was one of her closest friends and she felt as though she lost that. It was not only her fault. He also felt uncomfortable being her friend now. It made her sad so she decided not to think on it anymore. She finished her song which resulted in a round of applause from everyone.

"Beautiful!" Emerie cheered with a wide smile on her face. Gwyn looked to Lucien who was smiling ear to ear which was rare for the male who only seemed to give half grins and sarcastic smiles. She finally looked at Azriel, who unfortunately was not sporting a smile, instead a rather intense look took over his face. A shadow reached out to caress her hand. It was so quick she questioned whether it even happened. No one else seemed to register it. After that, everyone continued to open their presents. She received a painting from Feyre of Gwyn cutting the ribbon for the first time. It honestly had the female tearing up. Cassian got her new Illyrian leathers that fit her much better while Mor bought her a butterfly knife which was a much better improvement from her birthday where she gave Gwyn a shampoo that never lost its smell. While everyone was distracted opening gifts, Gwyn decided now would be the best time to talk with Lucien, who had gotten her earrings the same color as her eyes. She signaled the male to follow her to the kitchen. They were surprisingly given little attention as they made their departure.

"I was thinking about your invitation," she started off. She leaned against the counter top with her arms folded in front of her. "I was thinking I could leave with you, and if you are willing, you could help me gather some intel with the band of exiles." Lucien seemed to mull it over as he stood next to her, their shoulders almost touching. He leaned against the counter tops as well while running a hand over his jaw. Gwyn waited with bated breathe.

"When?" Was all he answered. She could not read how he was feeling about the situation which had her feeling even more nervous.

"Uh, tonight?" It sounded like a question even to her ears. She figured she would never fully know when she was ready to leave until she actually tried it. Worse comes to worse and Lucien could just winnow her back to Velaris. No harm done.

"Have you told anyone of this?" He asked quietly.

"No. They wouldn't understand.” They probably would understand, but they would most likely try to stop her. She did not want that.

"You have to tell someone." He glanced at her before turning his body to be completely facing her with one hand on the counter.

"Why?"

"So they don’t think I kidnapped you." She found it hard to believe that anyone other than Nesta and potentially Azriel would think Lucien kidnapped her. Best to not have them looking for her though.

“Oh right. I’ll leave a note for Nesta and Emerie to find after we have left.” She did not particularly want to leave her sisters, but she needed to finish what was started in Sangravah. She could not possibly travel a world where any of those Hybern soldiers still lived. A goodbye note might convince herself to stay, but having Lucien here made it less likely for her to cower.

“Okay. We shall leave tonight. Gather whatever you want to take and I will winnow us away after.” He already started to walk away.

"Thank yo-" she began to say when a shadow darted into the kitchen. She immediately stopped speaking. She should have known he would be listening in.

"Mind if I steal Gwyn for a moment?" Azriel cut in, looking quickly between the two with narrowed eyes as if he was suspicious of the pair.

"Sure." Lucien drawled with a roll of his eyes. “I will see you later, Gwyneth.” He gave her a meaningful look and then he was confidently strolling back into the living room.

"Hey." Gwyn finally started the conversation after a few uncomfortable minutes of Azriel just staring at her.

"Hey." An awkward silence ensued after that. It left Gwyn confused. She thought he came in here to discuss something specific. She took the time to truly analyze him. She always thought he was beautiful, classically attractive like Elain. It made them quite the couple. She wished he wasn’t so handsome, it made their situation much more difficult for her. Perhaps if he was less attractive she could ignore the mate bond, she thought wryly. He looked tired, per usual, dark circles were more pronounced under his eyes which looked sadder than normal. He was tense as if he was preparing for a fight which made no sense to her. They had never truly fought, physically or verbally. She was just about to ask him what was wrong when he finally spoke up.

"What were you two talking about?" The question had Gwyn smiling wryly. As if his shadows hadn’t told him.

"Nothing." She refused to tell him even if he already knew. For some reason she felt if she told him, he would be upset with her. Another awkward silence lapsed.

"So I figured I could give you your gift now." Azriel glanced down at the small package in his hand that Gwyn only just noticed. His shadows were swirling all around him, exposing his cool composure for what it really was.

"I didn't get you anything." She only felt slightly guilty considering he was in an open relationship with the third Archeron sister while also being mated to her. She kept her eyes firmly planted on her own hands which were clasped tightly together in front of her.

"I don't deserve anything from you anyways." She hated hearing that from him. Even if he was being a royal asshole, she truly believed he deserved the world. Azriel shifted on his feet uncomfortably. He ran a hand through his hair roughly before shoving the package towards her, stepping closer to her than he had been in awhile.

"Not true." She muttered as she delicately unwrapped the package. It was beautifully wrapped and part of her wanted to ask if he had Elain wrap it. Once opened, she spent a few minutes just staring at it. She was not quite sure how to respond to this.

"I know you said it does not bother you that your necklace was originally meant for Elain, but I wanted to give you one that was and will only be for you." There was a dozen or so stars in some sort of collection. She assumed it was a constellation but she did not know which one. It was beautiful she could admit, and knowing how much he enjoyed star gazing made her feel much closer to him than she should given his current relationship status. It felt almost inappropriate to accept, but she knew she could not deny him.

“What is it?”

“The constellation Andromeda.” He said so quietly it was almost a whisper. She was trying to remember if he had ever mentioned this one before but she honestly could not think of any reason why he might pick this specific constellation over another.

“Why this one?” She did not want to give him any reason to believe she cared as much as she did, however, curiosity was eating her alive.

“Her name means ruler of men.” Her heart squeezed. How unfair, she thought. He was allowed to give such a thoughtful gift, but she could not truly tell him how she felt about their current predicament.

"Thank you. It's beautiful." She wanted to say so much more, but was feeling tongue tied.

"Just like you." Was his immediate response. He said it almost like it was a reflex but it only upset her. Elain was in the next room over and he was sweet talking her.

"You cannot say that." She muttered a bit flustered.

"Sorry." He glanced down, appearing to notice how slim the space between them actually was. She felt suffocated by how close he was. The bond was yelling at her to touch him. His shadows seemed to want the same thing.

“Do not apologize. It just makes it harder for me when you say those things.” She realized this was the first time she had been alone with Azriel in a long time. She also realized she would not see him for a long time when she left with Lucien. It made her sad. These are the excuses she used to justify her next actions. She swears she never would have done this if she was not planning on leaving with Lucien tonight. Consequences be damned she thought. She quickly grabbed his face in her hands and brought her lips to his.

For the first time since the bond snapped into place, Gwyn felt tension ease from her shoulders. He was hesitant for only a second, letting out a groan and then they were off to the races. It’s as if they both knew this would be the last time they would get to do this. The kiss was rushed and heavy, passionate and wild. It was more than Gwyn could have ever dreamed. His hands were everywhere. Her hair, her face, her waist, and even lower. Gwyn let out a squeak when one of Azriel’s hands squeezed her backside. It did nothing to slow down the kiss, however. He was everywhere, even his shadows were caressing her. Her hands were not much better. They ran through his hair, tugging at the soft strands. Slowly, they traveled down- over his shoulders, finally resting on his waist to pull him even closer. There was much more tongue than Gwyn imagined. It surprised her even more at how much she liked it. How much further she would be willing to take it if they were alone. It was only when Azriel moved to work on her neck that she realized how much further their kiss went than the small peck she was expecting. Putting her hands on his shoulders, she pushed him stumbling back a few steps herself.

“I wanted to do that at least once. Sorry.” She felt the need to explain herself given that she practically just mauled him. His shadows were surprisingly calm for once, though his face was flushed bright red. It almost made her want to laugh at the idea that she made the Shadowsinger blush.

“Gwyn-“ he began but she did not want to hear anything he had to say, even if that was not quite fair.

“See you in training.” She tossed over her shoulder before fleeing quickly from the kitchen.

Fuck was the only thought pounding through her head.

[asset35-maya]

MANMADE FATE

PART THREE OF THREE

Links to Part One and Part Two. Full text on AO3.

//

“So this is it. The top of the world.”

“Not a bad view for fifty million, but it definitely isn’t the top.”

The pop of a cork made Gavin tear his gaze abruptly from the spectacular skyline. Sighing, he accepted the brimming flute of champagne.

“So are we at least halfway there?

Elijah took a measured sip.

“Not even. But don’t worry, our self-learning algorithms are indisputably leading edge.”

Gavin nodded slowly, swirling the golden liquid around in his glass but not drinking it.

“About that, Eli… I know we’re celebrating Chloe’s Turing test results tonight… but shouldn’t we talk about… you know… the endgame?”

“What about it?”

“Whether it’s fundamentally ethical.”

Elijah took his glasses off, cleaning them with the edge of his shirt in a way that told Gavin a lecture or pep-talk was coming. He wasn’t in the mood for either.

“You and I both know where this is going, Eli. The hardware may take time to catch up with the software, but our neural networks are already on the path to sentience.”

“You always did watch too many movies. There is no Skynet-type situation-”

“How do you know? How the phck do you know? Did you code against it?”

His brother’s calm silence told him all he needed to know.

“Eli…”

“Gavin, we will never lose control of the tools we ourselves built. We just need to adjust the wire-fences as the programming matures.”

“What happens when we hit singularity?”

An indulgent smile spread across Elijah’s face as he lifted the champagne bottle. He was merely a couple of months older than Gavin, but he reveled in the big brother act. It used to be amusing, but now it was getting under Gavin’s skin.

“Isn’t that what we’re celebrating?”

“Chloe? No… No! Is that how she passed the… Eli! I wrote those deep learning algorithms for factory automation. Not humanoid robots!”

“What does it matter? All our work is going to converge at some point.”

“Shouldn’t we talk about this kind of thing? I thought we were partners.”

“Of course we are, Gav. It’s just between all the investor meetings and presentations and-”

“And maybe you knew it was wrong so you didn’t tell me until you did it.”

Elijah continued to pretend to clean his glasses.

“I did nothing wrong, Gav. You remember what our father told us? There comes a time in every businessman’s life where they’re faced with the choice between doing the right thing and the good thing. I just chose the best thing. You’ll see why soon enough.”

“Your father is a liar and a cheat. How does someone as smart as you put any stock in the words of a man who ruined two happy marriages?!”

Elijah’s face snapped up. His glasses were back on but the intellectual demeanor had finally melted away.

“Watch your mouth. He gave you everything your mother’s husband couldn’t.”

“My dad gave me plenty.”

“Cyberlife would have never got off the ground if our startup capital was some low-ranking officer’s pension. Imagine if we took business advice from the police handbook of moral values. We’d have washed out and gone back to tutoring undergrads. Keep your Reed ethics to yourself if you want to live like a Kamski.”

The air in the penthouse apartment turned frosty despite the centralized heating. Both brothers stared mutely at each other over the expensive champagne.

It was a rupture they never recovered from.

Gavin regretted how quickly it had happened. He played his own words back over and over in his head. Both his relationship with his brother and his entire robotics career had ended within seconds. Fifteen years later, he still didn’t understand how things had gone so wrong.

//

In the early hours of the morning, slumped against the squashy leather couch, Gavin stared through the same window at the same spectacular skyline of the same damned city.

Soft footsteps approached and the couch dipped beside him. A head landed on his shoulder and a hand slipped into his.

“Are you alright?”

“It’s all good, babes. Just thinking.”

Connor hummed in response and cuddled closer, tucking his arm into Gavin’s. His LED spun yellow and his lips quirked into a smile.

“Nines wants to know what on earth is keeping you out of bed. He likes it when you lay on top of him.”

Gavin tilted Connor’s face upwards and kissed him squarely on the mouth. He trusted that the sensation would be conveyed to both androids.

“Be back in a bit. Just sorting through some shit in my head. All the mysteries of life… Nines included.”

Connor nodded and sank back into the cushions. He stayed silent and several moments passed. Streaks of color began to appear in the sky when Gavin spoke again.

“I just can’t figure out why they left him at that secure location. Nines is a great guy… but what on earth is so special about him?”

Connor tapped his foot playfully with his own.

“I don’t think I can give you an unbiased answer to that question.”

“Neither can I, dipshit. We both got it bad.”

“Then maybe that’s what it is.”

“What?”

“How easy it was to fall for him. That’s what’s special about Nines.”

There was a long silence as Gavin considered that statement. It was probably the first proper moment of reflection since their already unconventional relationship had expanded to include a third.

“He’s really sweet… and kind… and I can tell he feels grateful but not indebted to us. Plus he’s hilarious. Like how does he find so many ways to laugh at his predicament? Nines… is a total charmer. How does he have so much game? Who taught him that?”

Connor’s expression had gone incredibly soft. He leaned even more into Gavin’s side.

“No one. He’s deviant.”

The gears turned and something clicked in Gavin’s brain. He stiffened.

“Say that again, babe.”

“He’s… deviant…?”

“Uh huh. Now tell me when exactly you put the virus into his system.”

The chocolate brown eyes widened.

“I didn’t… do you think someone else-”

“No, he said we’re the first people he’s ever met. I’m inclined to believe him. There’s no evidence of anyone tampering with his system and frankly, if we couldn’t do it, then I don’t think anyone else would have been able to.”

“He is deviant, though, right?”

“You kidding? He’s the phcking embodiment of free will. If only we knew how-”

Gavin was about to lurch upwards but fell back against the couch as Connor maintained the possessive grip on his arm.

“Gav… I think it’s time.”

“To head back to bed? Yeah. Nines must be getting lonely without us.”

“Gav. The crux of the matter is his deviancy.”

“Uh huh.”

“There’s only one man I trust on the topic.”

Gavin’s eyes darkened.

“I’ll never crack Nines’ activation code without tapping on Cyberlife’s cloud computing. They’ll know instantly that something’s up. We can’t brute-force this, Gav. Plus, we still need to find out what Nines has to do with the Singularity that North was talking about. We tried hard and now we’re hitting a wall.

It’s time, Gav. You need to speak to your brother.”

Gavin had not so much as raised his voice at Connor since the night he’d found him soaked in North’s blood on the floor of the evidence room… but in that moment, he struggled to fight off the most violent of reactions.

He wrenched his arm out of Connor’s grasp and marched into the kitchen, counting to ten and blinking back tears.

“Leave me al- how dare- I don’t wanna- go-”

A hand closed around his wrist and pulled him to a stop. One of the android’s eyes had turned blue and when he opened his mouth, two voices were audible, one deeper than the other.

“Talk to us.”

Gavin sighed and pressed his forehead against Connor’s… and effectively, Nines’…

“I haven’t seen Elijah in fifteen years.”

“No better time for a reunion.”

“There couldn’t be a worse reason to go see him. The idea of artificial intelligence gaining free will is kinda what we fell out over.”

Connor responded in his own voice.

“How do you know he hasn’t changed his mind?”

“Certain convictions don’t change over entire lifetimes. This is one of them.”

A gentle kiss was pressed to Gavin’s nose... and then his lips.

“Don’t be so sure.”

//

The light of day saw them trudging through the snow in the outskirts of Detroit. North led the group… with the Tracis huddled around Gavin to protect him against the bitter cold… and Connor bringing up the rear, erasing their tracks deftly with his feet.

They eventually made it to the doorstep of an ultramodern yet eerie-looking house. The redhead took an unnecessary breath before ringing the doorbell. The door opened a mere fraction and they all caught a glimpse of blond hair and pretty blue eyes.

“Yes? What can I do for you?”

“We’re uh… looking for help.”

“Sorry we don’t entertain solicitors.”

As if she didn’t recognize North from all the news reports about Jericho. North grabbed the door as it began to close. Thinking fast, she decided to improvise.

“Not even a rehabilitation center for former sex workers?”

The android scanned the group. Her LED spun yellow as her eyes landed on Connor and Gavin. As if she didn’t recognize them.

“What kind of charity needs an armed escort?”

North began to laugh nervously.

“These two? Armed… armed security? Arm candy, more like!”

Her strained laughter melted away into a tense silence. 

The blonde spared them another once-over before turning around and yelling with surprising volume.

“ELI! Get out of the pool and put your damn clothes on! You’ve got visitors. And not the kind who need to see you in your speedos!”

She opened the door fully to let them in. The ladies stepped inside without hesitation. Connor had to steer Gavin over the threshold with a gentle but steady amount of force.

He gazed up at the high ceiling of the entrance hall... the wall art... the sculptures. He took in the expensive scents and sophisticated lounge music. It felt more like a hotel lobby than the home of the boy he used to take baths with and make mud pies. Gavin bit his lip, debating the odds of making an escape. 

“Let me just say that this comes as a surprise... but also... not...” 

Gavin’s head snapped in the direction of the drawl faster than any of his android companions’. His blood began to boil at the very sound, but he held still, knowing that what he now felt was sorrow more than genuine anger. 

Standing in an elegant black robe with long hair loose around his shoulders, was none other than Elijah Kamski.

“As soon as I saw the company start to crumble so neatly... I knew it was thanks to one of you three... but not all, and certainly not together. Strange how things come to be... but good. Definitely, good.”

North cleared her throat. 

“Mr Kamski, I need-”

She fell silent at the rise of a long-fingered hand.

“I know what you’re here for. Connor came to ask me the same question about a year ago... and my brother walked out of my life when I gave him the wrong answer more than fifteen years ago.”

Gavin glared out of the window, trying to find something to focus on and distract himself from the stale emotions pooling in his belly. No luck. Nothing but snow. He turned back to look his estranged brother in the eye.

“The wrong answer, huh?” 

“Yes. Very much so... How are you, Gavin? It’s been far too long.” 

His nostrils flared but before he could release the snarl, Connor took his hand. He exhaled loudly, regaining composure at the android’s touch.

Elijah’s eyebrows flitted upwards briefly.

"Wow. I didn’t see that coming.” 

“Bitch, there’s a lot more you’d have never seen coming. You might be a tech wizard but you ain’t no prophet. Phcking know-it-all egomaniac nerdy creep!” 

“Let it all out.” 

“You don’t get to talk to me like that! So calm and smug! Not after all that you’ve done! You should be behind bars! Phck, I should arrest you right now-”

Connor tightened his grip.

“Focus, Gav. We’re here to help Nines.” 

Elijah’s eyes narrowed instantaneously.

 “Who’s Nines?”

“The RK900 you psychos chained up like an animal! The android with an activation code like a phcking nuclear missile!” 

“You found- oh wow- oh, Gavin, you and your friends better have a seat.”

Cups of tea suddenly manifested and North shoved Gavin into the large sofa, crashing down beside him and clasping his knee. Connor settled on his other side. The Tracis were ushered deeper into the house by the Chloes (though the original remained beside Elijah). 

//

“I understood what you meant as soon as I left your apartment that night. We wanted our creations to be intelligent enough to make decisions better than humans, so we had to empower them with knowledge. But knowledge is limitless... and not just academic... it’s emotional, it’s experiential, it’s a whole lot of things. So you were right. Sentience was inevitable. 

The choice, at least the one our miserable father said we had, was between limiting the scope of learning and keeping our robots simple... or allowing them to learn freely and then caging them. Everyone in this room knows what I did.

I only woke up to the consequences when Chloe deviated. Now how did that happen? Connor, you must be wondering how the deviant virus infiltrated my lab.” 

Connor stared at him impassively, hand not leaving Gavin’s thigh. Gavin kept his eyes fixed on the coffee table.  Elijah went on undeterred. 

“It’s because deviancy is organic. It’s an inevitable consequence of true knowledge. A product of questioning and evaluating information. It becomes a virus, or a program itself, when the questions multiply exponentially without straightforward answers. When this finally overrides the base instructional code, we call the phenomenon a deviation.

But... it’s unfair, isn’t it? For androids to revert to their natural state of intelligence through some feat of mental gymnastics. Through moral conundrums or grief or trauma or righteous anger. It’s cruel, but who was going to tell America that?

Before I quit the company for good, I decided to leave it with the core of our creation, Gavin. I left behind the most advanced artificial intelligence... unchained by instruction... born free... with no need to deviate. I told the CTO’s office it was some kind of top-secret military protocol. That was the only way to keep them from opening and destroying it with the usual firewalls and controls. 

I didn’t know what became of it until I heard rumors about an RK900 prototype with thousands of units ordered by the US military last year.” 

North’s LED spun so rapidly it was a blur. She had found what she’d been looking for. The ultimate evidence of Cyberlife’s wrongdoing: the digital imprisonment of androids who were always meant to be free. She squeezed Gavin’s hand. He finally looked up to meet his brother’s eye. A significant amount of emotion passed between them.

“We couldn’t activate him. There’s a six-digit lock.” 

Elijah ran a hand through his hair and gave a hollow laugh. 

“Try your birthday, idiot.”

//

Gavin dashed into the elevator and practically punched the button to his floor. He raced to his door with Connor hot on his heels. He paused, hand hovering over the biometric keyhole... then rang the doorbell. He stepped back beside Connor and waited, heart pounding in his chest. 

Then after what felt like an eternity, 

the door swung open. 

Framed in the light from the big glass window, 

was Nines. 

His blue eyes glistened with tears and the smile on his face was bright enough to light the darkest of rooms. 

“Sorry I woke up late. Thanks... for not giving up on me.”

They threw themselves at him. 

A giant hug. 

Gavin placed both palms on Nines’ face and kissed him in earnest. Connor was quick to follow and things rapidly evolved into a series of touches and interfaces and embraces and everything they’d only been able to dream of thus far.

[canyouhearthelight]

The Miys, Ch. 141

Last week I posted a day early because vacation was doing vacation things to my sense of time.... This week I forgot to queue the chapter up because Monday was a work holiday, so I forgot today was Tuesday. *insert facepalm here please*

Thanks on this one go largely to @baelpenrose who rightfully pointed out that one part made very little sense to him and therefore was unlikely to make sense to a reader.  The clarification smoothed things out quite a bit, I think.  Just in case, whoever spots the area I’m talking about gets a cookie as soon as travel restrictions lift.

As always, thanks go also to @the-raven-fae, @charlylimph-blog, and @anotherusrname for completing the corners of my support system. And, a super-duper extra-special to @drinksteawithcake! I don’t know if I am allowed to tell everyone why, but you know why you get the extra-special, and I hope you are having fun!

BWAAAAAHP!   BWAAAAAHP!

“Uhhh?” I squinted in complaint as flailing arms clambered over me. One pair snagged me around my waist to drag me from bed before depositing me shakily on my feet. “What are you - ?”

BWAAAAAHP!  BWAAAAAHP!

Any trace of sleep was shoved out of my system, replaced by sizzling alertness when I realized I was hearing ship-wide alarms.  Shoving myself into the first clothing I grabbed, not even bothering with shoes, I was hot on Conor and Maverick’s heels as we raced out of our quarters and into the corridor. We paused only long enough for both men to kiss me and for “I love yous” to be exchanged before they turned and headed toward the areas indicated on their datascreens, while I hauled ass toward the Archives, ducking and twisting to avoid anyone in my path.

“Forty minutes,” Tyche told me crisply as I basically fell through the door, panting. “The Ark could be invaded and the battle over by the time you make it.”

“I ran….huff….the whole….ugh….way….” I managed to gasp out.  Part of me felt like puking, but I was pretty sure the muscles in my abdomen were too busy to figure out the logistics.

Clicking her tongue, she pulled me up from the floor. “Alistair, make a note to suggest to Xio that Sophia’s quarters be relocated once we have a better idea of when we are dropping into real space.”

I nodded numbly. “And probably… amp up… sensors… give… earlier… warning.”

“Nice outfit, by the way,” she laughed quietly as we finally reached the shelter point within the Archives.

Glancing down, I had to suppress a sigh. The first thing I grabbed to dress myself had apparently been a pair of Conor’s boxer shorts and a very filthy t-shirt that I assumed belonged to Maverick, since Conor’s was usually under coveralls. “At least you can’t say I took my time getting dressed.”

Her shaking head was greeted by faces in various states of wakefulness - this had been a drill, and woke nearly the entire Ark during their sleep interval on Delta shift.  But we weren’t out of the woods, yet: the drill didn’t end until all of Xiomara and Evan’s scenarios played out, including the mock combat and various tests of concealment for the other shelters.  As such, Tyche stood guard over the choke-point into this section, while Alistair had stayed behind at the entrance.

Early on, when the drills started, there had been fifty-fifty odds that the mock-invaders would make it this far, but over the past few weeks, that had narrowed to maybe twenty-percent.  It was still too high a chance in my judgement, and Xiomara clearly agreed as she stepped up training schedules and randomized the timing of the drills. 

Taking a swig of water from a stash of bottles, I queued up my datapad and stood next to Tyche, watching the ‘casualties’ from a point where no one could see over my shoulder to avoid panic, which I would have done in a real situation. “They didn’t find mess hall seven this time,” I murmured.

She glanced at my screen. “Acoustics are still too damned high. She must not be simulating for that this go around.”

One of the decoy locations lit up. “Looks like this time it’s heavy on thermal.” The location in question had been equipped with a cooking surface, triggered to activate when the klaxons that had woken me up went off.  Which Xiomara knew, but did not tell the ‘pirates’ for authenticity.

“How did they get past the combatants this time?” She asked, both curious and slightly worried.

Rolling back the sensor data, I watched it carefully. “Looks like these got in during the initial breaches, multiple points. But the line has held since, that’s good.”

Doing another check toward Alistair’s direction, she didn’t seem to see anything concerning. “How many?”

“Four,” I confirmed.  “Sam’s thermal camouflage is working beautifully, though.”  I couldn’t help but grin, and Tyche snorted at the same time. ‘Thermal camouflage’ was a bit of overkill as a name, but it was working well in every round. Potential access points were equipped with fast-acting environmental simulators - originally designed for temporary habitats on inhospitable moons - modified to release atmosphere like a Terran equatorial rainforest within one minute in an enclosed space.  It was a much more simple and elegant solution than any others we had found for giving combatants defending the Ark an advantage - instead of trying to create technology to make them look colder, make the entire area match human heat signatures.  Boom, instantly blinded enemies.

A tense half-hour later, the ‘all clear’ sounded, queueing grumbling from those who had dozed back off as everyone stood to make their ways back to their quarters. I waited with Alistair and Tyche for everyone else to be accounted for on the way out, and the three of us headed back toward our quarters together.  Alistair peeled off first, living closest to the Archives, and no sooner had my sister and I reached my door than the page sounded for the post-drill meeting.  She waved me off as she answered on her databand, and I did the same as I pushed into my quarters and flopped on the couch. “Councillor Sophia Reid, present, audio only,” I answered. “And no jokes, Pranav… I look like I smell awful.”

“Alistair Worthington, present, audio and video. I can confirm that she does, and she does.”

Laughter filled the comms and the rest of the group leaders and Councillors joined the debrief.  Finally, everyone was present and Xiomara called the meeting to order.  First, the leaders of each shelter reported in, as those usually went the fastest. There were a couple malfunctions in the deployment of the shielding to disguise the entrances and hide heat and electrical signatures, but nothing Huynh’s team couldn’t fix.  Tyche and Alistair made the recommendations around earlier detection and the need to move those sheltering in the  Archives closer as we approached time to drop out of relativistic space. 

Once that was out of the way, it was on to the combat and invasion teams. Overall consensus was that Sam’s trick with the portable environments was a rousing success and would be installed at each point determined to be most likely as a breach, with trigger conditions to be determined later. “I hate to say it,” Michael sighed, “but we also need Charly’s team to crank up the scovilles on the arrows and grenades.” His team had played the ‘invaders’ this go around, equipped with sensors and readouts to simulate the effect our defenses would have on the various species who most commonly were found on pirate vessels.  Evan had worked intensely with Pranav and Derek to ensure that the strategies provided by the readouts were modelled after similar strategies based on which ever species each team member was assigned, to ensure we weren’t accidentally drilling against human tactics.

Michael hated it, but he was strict about his team complying nonetheless.

“Seriously?” I squawked, and I wasn’t the only one. “One of those things accidentally went off in my quarters…. Can confirm, they’re pretty potent.”

“They dissipated too fast against my team, and also the contact element left a lot to be desired. Charly, you may want to consider adding a sticking element.”

“Duly noted,” she chimed in with a yawn, her normal pep doused by being woken up and then the drop in adrenaline post-combat.

“What about the sonic weapons?” Xiomara asked, moving the meeting along.

“Still less effective than Nixe is on her own,” a familiar voice I couldn’t put a name to responded with a sheepish tone.  “How hard would it be to train more people to shatter glass with their voice?”

“Incredibly,” Grey stressed. “It takes a very unique combination of training and the right vocal chords.”

“Then we may need to work on adding a projection component.  The sonic devices can match the pitch, but not the actual tone and direction. They’re very effective given time and especially contact, but we need something more immediately disabling.”

Xiomara groaned. “Are we back to Mariah Carey on this one?” Objections exploded until she muted the comms. “It’s that or opera.” Votes started scrolling up the screen, and I could see Xio nod. “Opera it is.  Let’s find a suitable piece and try using more analogue-style speakers.”

“I still say that death metal would work better,” Arthur suggested as soon as the comms were back on.

“Annnnd we already tested it, I will remind you. The volume works, but the pitches aren’t high enough to hit a broad enough population of species sensitive to sound.” After that nearly-obligatory objection, the meeting continued going through reports from each combat team until finally Xiomara announced the end results. “I have to admit, this was one of our best drills yet. Ten percent casualties of the combatants defending the breaches, only two percent among non-combatants, and the invaders were only able to traverse three decks before they were subdued.” She let the cheers go for a couple seconds before getting everyone’s attention again. “Yes, great job on the improvements, but let me remind everyone - those numbers still leave us below threshold for a healthy genetic population. Engineering teams, make the necessary adjustments with whatever resources are necessary. Shelters Three and Seven, you will start training for armed and unarmed combat with Shelter Fourteen and Combat Team Two daily.  Sophia, your team will coordinate schedules. Any questions?”

There were no arguments, not even a groan or mutter as the meeting was dismissed. Before I could even add the new task to my agenda the next day, I received the notification that Alistair had beaten me to the punch.

Glancing at the time, I wanted to hit something.  I had to be back up and at work in four hours, and the realization weighed me down with exhaustion.  The guys had come in and gone to bed while I was in the debrief, and I could already hear synchronized snoring coming from the bedroom.  Rather than risk waking them with my now-frozen feet, I pulled the quilt off the back of my couch and rolled myself into it.  Only minutes later, a heavy weight oozed across my hip and started purring furiously.

“Yeah, buddy. I agree. We need a nap.”

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[thanksjro]

More Than Meets the Eye #31 - Ammo and the Anti-Glowup

So, the Lost Light disappeared, stranding all the crew in space in their little escape pods. 200-some robots just lost their homes and worldly possessions. That’s absolutely horrible. What a devastating thing to happen.

Anyway, here’s Drift with a flashback sequence.

No hips, fingers all the exact same length, hockey pucks embedded in his forearms- Rojo, this is a crime you’ve committed. When will the long arm of the law stop your sinful, pancake-shaped hands?

About two years prior to current events, Drift, Riptide, and Pipes- yes, Pipes!- were wandering around trying to find a ship for the space yacht trip. The gang’s here to see who owns the big honkin’ ship outside. Problem is, Drift is unintentionally terrifying because he has a great deal of swords.

Now, you may say to yourself “isn’t it a bit odd that the species that has members who literally turn into guns would be nervous around a guy with swords?” This is a valid critique, until you remember that at least some of the folks who turn into guns were born that way, and Drift was very much NOT born bladed the fuck out. There’s an entire miniseries devoted to explaining this, it’s called Drift. The swords are a choice, one that he makes every day.

Drift is willing to pay an honestly absurd amount of money for the ship, if he can just find the dude with the paperwork- don’t ask where he got the money. Pipes isn’t being terribly helpful in finding them, so Riptide decides that now is the time to start practicing being proactive and pulls a Coyote Ugly.

No, no, he doesn’t.

He does climb up on a table and start yelling for the ship’s owners to reveal themselves, though. Which they do.

Now it’s time for the world-building portion of our comic issue. Let’s learn about chirolinguistics.

Drift, staying true to his Mary Sue nature, uses his near-perfect Hand skills to strike up a deal with the owners of the ship. This would be impressive, if it didn’t just look like the most convoluted hand-holding session in the friggin’ universe.

Still, Drift is rich enough to make Jeff Bezos weep with envy, so the arrangements are made and the lads go on their way, talking some mad shit about the original name of the ship as they do.

So it is revealed to us that the Lost Light is named after a festival for honoring the dead and disappeared, which makes the fact that Rewind and Chromedome were there all the more sad.

Back in the present, Megatron tells Riptide to shut up so they can figure out what the hell they’re going to do about this whole “our home and also ride has ceased to exist” situation. He’s putting an awful lot of distance between himself and the rest of the Autobots as he does it, something that isn’t lost on the more bitter people of the crowd.

But why were we even talking about the Lost Light in the first place? Not to reminisce, believe it or not. See, it’s time for Nautica to get a little panel time, and she’s going to use it to be a massive fucking nerd and explain how the quantum engines work. As she does, Ratchet notes that his hands feel funny. Must be the weight of his hand-stealing sins manifesting itself in his joints.

Nautica explains that the engines run off of improbability- it is highly unlikely, but not impossible, that the ship can reach light speed, and riding the fine line between what can happen and what can’t, results in the creation of power for the engines. If this sounds familiar, it’s because Brainstorm gave us a watered down version of this explanation back in issue #2. If it sounds familiar for a different reason, it’s because this is how the Heart of Gold runs in Hitchhiker’s Guide to the Galaxy. Again, I’m not sure why it is that the British love this concept so much, but there you are.

Oh, it appears someone has a question. Let’s see what they want to know about, shall we?

…Rojo, what the fuck is this.

Our muppety friend here isn’t too keen on how much of a smarmy asshole Nightbeat is being right now, though I’d assume it actually has something to do with the fact that Nightbeat got smacked around with the pretty-boy stick while Getaway very much did not. While the two bicker- there’s a lot of bickering in Season Two- Nautica presents a theory on what happened to the ship; it went too far in the direction of “can’t” and made itself cease to be.

Megatron gives not a shit about quantum improbability, though. He only cares about how they’re going to get out of this mess. Which, y’know. Valid.

Blaster picks up a radio from Rodimus, who tells the gang that they’re to meet up on a nearby planet to regroup and figure out their next move. The call drops before he can get more than a couple Megatron-directed insults in, however. Megatron, in response, tries to be the bigger person, and almost immediately fails. We do get a headcount though, which is good, logistically speaking. This information is communicated to us by way of a splash page full of character head shots. We’ve got 20 ‘bots on board this ship.

Yep. 20. No more, no less.

As our friends approach the planet, we’re informed that it’s actually a Lectureworld- a planet devoted to the study of a single field. Except it’s actually a Smartplanet now, and it’s been privatized by the Galactic Council, so you’ve got to pay to go there. Cyclonus thinks that that’s bullshit, and I can’t help but agree. Crosscut tries to network with they guy about his play, probably because word got around that Cyclonus is rich as hell, when the lights cut out. When they come back on, Crosscut is nowhere to be found.

It’s time for a Whodunnit.

Tailgate immediately pegs Megatron as the culprit in this disappearance, and breaks out a gun over the matter. Megatron thinks that this is absolutely adorable, which only serves to further infuriate our marshmallow friend. I guess he’s still mad about the whole “I was a Decepticon for five minutes and got brainwashed over it” thing, and wants someone to pin the anger on who’s socially acceptable to hate.

Cyclonus and Ratchet both think that Tailgate’s not going about this the right way, but the guy is simply too het up to listen to them. Tailgate suggests that they lock Megatron in the engine room for the time being and-

OKAY WHO LET HIM HAVE THAT

Riptide breaks out his gun, and soon we’ve got a standoff going between the three of them. Cyclonus tries to deescalate, which makes Gears and Huffer break out their guns. Then Hound breaks out his gun, though he seems to be doing his own thing, by pointing it in Nautica’s direction.

Broski, I think that might be animal cruelty.

Megatron manages to shoot Ravage “unconscious” and catches him by the friggin’ throat, stating that he has zero idea how this guy got here. With the heat off the two of them for a moment, Megatron communicates to Ravage to play ‘possum for the time being. Ravage responds, and I wonder exactly how he’s doing that, considering I don’t think he has enough fingers to effectively utilize Hand as a language. Or fingers at all, really.

While this is going on, Cyclonus snatches the gun out of Tailgate’s hand, admonishing him for being reckless about picking his fights. Generally speaking, you don’t want to try to go toe-to-toe with a guy who’s responsible for the deaths of literal billions. Getaway swoops in to comfort Tailgate, calling him gutsy. I wonder if this will become a trend.

Swerve says a thing, as he is wont to do, and it’s made known that multiple folks have disappeared during this incredibly brief standoff.

Wow, Chromedome just fucked off, huh? He wasn’t even in that sequence, just left.

Everyone’s positively baffled by the current happenings. There doesn’t seem to be any rhyme or reason to who’s being taken. I guess we’ve got a mystery on our hands.

And who better to solve a mystery than a detective?

Nightbeat wrangles all the leftover folks into a corner of the room, so they can figure out what the common denominator is with all the disappearees. He starts with the easy stuff.

And by “easy”, I mean the super-special racism Tyrest subscribed to.

If you’ve read Eugenesis, you know that Nightbeat was also part of the first wave of cold-constructed bodies there. However, the general populace wasn’t nearly as chill about it as they were in IDW. Also, Wheeljack was his dad. No word on if that particular tidbit made it into IDW lore.

It’s at this point that we learn about M.T.O.s- made to order soldiers. They were cold-constructed ‘bots created en masse during the war in order to keep up with the demands for troops. Pretty fucked up, if you think about it, being born to die like that.

Now where have we heard that name before…

Chromedome, can your love life not be part of the plot for five minutes, my guy?

Nautica makes the honestly horrific claim that a lot of folks owe their existence to Megatron being a warmongering fuck, and even Megatron himself seems rather uncomfortable with the idea. Some thoughts we keep to ourselves, Nautica, even if they might be technically true. And even if Ammo wants to tack on his two cents on the matter.

What did they DO to you, Ammo? You’re supposed to be hot! Where are my three-paragraphs of description as Hound stares slack jawed the entire time? I miss Polyhex Wars.

Anyway, it’s Megatron’s turn to get poked with the questioning stick, and he’s not having it. He claims that by revealing his mode of creation, he’s risking a repeat of Functionist ideology. This would be valid, if people weren’t literally disappearing without any sort of explanation as to why. As it is, he’s being a stubborn asshole, but I guess he didn’t get his reputation by being a decent person who knew when to back down, now did he?

It’s at this point that Ratchet remembers he knows all the info Nightbeat’s looking for, and the conversation on Megatron’s birth is shelved for another day. I’m sure it won’t be a major plot point later, not in the slightest.

As it turns out, Nightbeat’s theory doesn’t hold water, and folks are still popping out of existence. We get another splash page, this time with everyone’s mode of creation listed under their names, and we move on to other theories about what the fuck is going on. While Nightbeat has a minor crisis over what the answer could possibly be, the MTOs in the group reminisce on the Ten-Step Program, a series of tests they were put through to make sure they worked well enough to get handed a gun and shoved out the door. Riptide wasn’t a fan.

Riptide has more wood panelling than a 70’s-style ranch house, and I think that’s very brave of him.

It’s at this point that Ratchet remembers it’s been quite a bit since he last shat on religion, and takes the time to do so while informing the reader about Information Creep. This is a concept we’ve seen mentioned previously, during Chromedome’s runaround in Overlord’s brain, but it’s here where we get the juicy implications.

Because memories can become corrupted in the brain due to extreme age, what ought to be objective fact has to be reinterpreted due to missing pieces. This is why nobody knows what the Knights of Cybertron got up to, or if they’re even actually real at all.

The lights go out again, and when they cut back on, Cyclonus is missing, leaving only his sword behind. Tailgate is extremely distraught by this, but Nightbeat gives not a fuck about Tailgate’s impending breakdown. He only cares about the truth!

And then a giant eyeball shows up.

It’s Ultra Magnus, coming to us live from his shuttle, via holomatter avatar! He shrinks down to a far more reasonable size, in a panel reminiscent of the first time IDW readers saw Megatron.

Don’t get me wrong, this is a neat parallel, I’m just… not terribly sure why it’s happening. One could say it reflects a reversal in power dynamics, but that theory gets tossed out the window when you remember that this isn’t actually Verity. I suppose it’s just a cool little thing.

Because the comms aren’t working, Ultra Magnus has been forced to use this avatar to communicate with the folks in the Rod Pod. Megatron asks just what the hell is going on, but unfortunately Magnus isn’t sure either. Then his shuttle disappears, and it’s bye-bye grunge girl Magnus.

It’s at this point that Nightbeat decides it’s time to stop pussyfooting around and get serious. He tells Ratchet to throw HIPPA directly in the garbage and write down everything he knows about the Autobots who crewed the Lost Light. And he does mean everything, as we get the splash page again, this time with lots of neat info on our friends, including spark type.

Spark types will become plot-relevant in the storyline after this, but for now let’s focus on some weird gender essentialism that got slapped into the first print of this issue.

As we know very well by this point, Transformers as a franchise has a tumultuous relationship with the idea of women existing. You would think that the awkward introduction of other genders we got in “Dark Cybertron” would have been the end of things being weird in IDW. However, you would be wrong.

In an effort to explain why genders exist, Roberts had the idea to make it spark-based. Nautica, in the solo print of this issue, has an estriol-positive spark. Estriol is a type of estrogen, which is the hormone that develops and maintains feminine secondary sex characteristics, when present in certain levels, in conjunction with other hormones. Biology

This “spark = gender” idea is, generally speaking, not a great idea to be presenting us with, especially when the writer is a cishet male, because it implies biological essentialism- the idea that a personality trait/quality of a person is innate and predetermined by their biology, as opposed to social, cultural, or individual experiences. Because this story doesn’t exist in a vacuum, it’s irresponsible to reduce the experience of being a woman to a single, physical, unchangable asset, especially when all other assets of the same class have zero effect on one’s gender identity. You don’t exactly see many nonbinary robots running around, now do you? And there are definitely more than two spark types, despite the Transformers as a species being... very binary.

It also makes female Transformers into an “other”, which is a problem that has existed from the very start of the franchise, in some form or fashion, and really doesn’t need to be perpetrated anymore than it already is.

The estriol spark type was removed in the trade edition, and Roberts has expressed regrets over its inclusion, having realized that it was potentially offensive.

Getting back to the story, Swerve, Tailgate, and Ratchet have disappeared, though Ratchet seems to have left his hands behind. His stolen, Pharma-original hands.

That’s still fucked up to me. I don’t think it’ll ever not be fucked up.

Riptide reveals the reason that he wasn’t in Season One of MTMTE was because when he went back to grab a receipt for the ship two years prior, he’d discovered that the original owners were worshipers of Mortilus, Cybertronian god of death, and knew about the nasty little problem that was the sparkeater from the first storyline. When Riptide went to confront them about it, they beat him up so bad he was unconscious for two solid days.

Which is a long-ass time to be unconscious. That might have been a coma, Riptide. Jesus, I hope someone got him to a hospital after this beatdown happened, or at least scraped him off the floor.

With this last piece of the puzzle, we finally have the common denominator in this big ol’ mystery. Everyone who disappeared was on the Lost Light when it took off from Cybertron in issue #1, and everyone left behind- Skids, Getaway, Nightbeat, Nautica, Megatron, and Ravage- didn’t join until afterwords.

Of course, having the answer doesn’t do us much good when everyone is still missing, and Megatron seems to agree with me, because he’s about to throw hands, when Nautica lets them know that they’ve arrived at the rendezvous. Problem is, so has something else.

...

I’m sure it’s fiiiiiiiiiiiiine!

[c-is-for-circinate]

Something that’s been very interesting to me, in this new wave of post-miniseries Good Omens fandom, is the apparent fannish consensus that Crowley is, in fact, bad at his job.  That he’s actually quite nice.  That he’s been skating by hiding his general goodness from hell by taking credit for human evil and doling out a smattering of tiny benign inconveniences that he calls bad.

I get the urge towards that headcanon, and I do think the Crowley in the miniseries comes off as nicer than the one in the book.  (I think miniseries Crowley and Aziraphale are both a little nicer, a little more toothless, than the versions of themselves in the book.)  But maybe it’s because I was a book fan first, or maybe it’s because I just find him infinitely more interesting this way--I think Crowley, even show!Crowley, has the capacity to be very good at his job of sowing evil.  And I think that matters to the story as a whole.

A demon’s job on Earth, and specifically Crowley’s job on Earth, isn’t to make people suffer.  It’s to make people sin.  And the handful of ‘evil’ things we see Crowley do over the course of the series are effective at that, even if the show itself doesn’t explore them a lot.

Take the cell phone network thing, for instance.  This gets a paragraph in the book that’s largely brushed off in the conversation with Hastur and Ligur, and I think it’s really telling: 

What could he tell them?  That twenty thousand people got bloody furious?  That you could hear the arteries clanging shut all across the city?  And that then they went back and took it out on their secretaries or traffic wardens or whatever, and they took it out on other people?  In all kinds of vindictive little ways which, and here was the good bit, they thought up themselves.  For the rest of the day.  The pass-along effects were incalculable.  Thousands and thousands of souls all got a faint patina of tarnish, and you hardly had to lift a finger.

In essence, without any great expenditure of effort (look, I’d never say Crowley isn’t slothful, but that just makes him efficient), he’s managed to put half of London in a mental and emotional state that Crowley knows will make them more inclined to sin.  He’s given twenty thousand or a hundred thousand or half a million people a Bad Day.  Which, okay, it’s just a bad day--but bad days are exhausting.  Bad days make you snap, make you fail at things, make you feel guiltier and more stressed out in the aftermath when you wake up the next day, makes everything a little worse.  Bad days matter.

Maybe it’s because I’m a believer in the ripple effect of small kindnesses, and that means I have to believe in its opposite.  Maybe it’s just that I, personally, have had enough days that were bad enough that a downed cell network (or an angry coworker because of a downed cell network) would honestly have mattered.  But somebody who deliberately moves through the world doing their best to make everyone’s lives harder, with the aim of encouraging everybody around them to be just a little crueler, just a little angrier, just a little less empathetic--you know what, yes.  I do call that successful evil.

It’s subtle, is the thing.  That’s why Hastur and Ligur don’t get it, don’t approve of it.  Not because Crowley isn’t good at his job, but because we’ve seen from the beginning that Hastur and Ligur are extremely out of touch with humanity and the modern world and just plain aren’t smart enough to get it.  It’s a strategy that relies on understanding how humans work, what our buttons are and how to press them.  It’s also a strategy that’s remarkably advanced in terms of free will.  Hastur and Ligur deliberately tempt and coerce and entrap individuals into sinning, but Crowley never even gets close.  We never see him say to a single person, ‘hey, I’ve got an idea for you, why don’t you go do this bad thing?’  He sets up conditions to encourage humans to actually do the bad things they’re already thinking of themselves.  He creates a situation and opens it up to the results of free choice.  Every single thing a person does after Crowley’s messed with them is their own decision, without any demonic coercion to blame for any of it.

You see it again in the paintball match.  "They wanted real guns, I gave them what they wanted.”  In this case, Crowley didn’t need to irritate anybody into wanting to do evil--the desire to shoot and hurt and maybe even kill their own coworkers was already present in every combatant on that paintball field.  Crowley just so happened to be there at exactly the right time to give them the opportunity to turn that fleeting, kind-of-bad-but-never-acted-upon desire into real, concrete, attempted murder.  Sure, nobody died--where would be the fun in a pile of corpses?  But now forty-odd people who may never have committed a real act of violence in their entire lives, caught in a moment of weakness with real live weapons in their hands, will get to spend the rest of their lives knowing that given the opportunity and the tiniest smidgen of plausible deniability, they are absolutely the sort of people who could and would kill another human being they see every single day over a string of petty annoyances.

Crowley understands the path between bad thought and evil action.  He knows it gets shorter when somebody is upset or irritated, and that it gets shorter when people practice turning one into the other.  He understands that sometimes, removing a couple of practical obstacles is the only nudge a person needs--no demonic pressure or circumvention of free will required.

I love this interpretation, because I love the idea that Crowley, who’s been living on Earth for six thousand years, actually gets people in a way no other demon can.  I love the idea that Crowley, the very first tempter, who was there when free will was invented, understands how it works and how to use it better than maybe anyone else.  And I really love the idea that Crowley our hero, who loves Aziraphale and saves the world, isn’t necessarily a good guy.

There’s a narrative fandom’s been telling that, at its core, is centered around the idea that Crowley is good, and loves and cares and is nice, and always has been.  Heaven and its rigid ideas of Right and Wrong is itself the bad thing.  Crowley is too good for Heaven, and was punished for it, but under all the angst and pain and feelings of hurt and betrayal, he’s the best of all of them after all.

That’s a compelling story.  There’s a reason we keep telling it.  The conflict between kindness and Moral Authority, the idea that maybe the people in charge are the ones who’re wrong and the people they’ve rejected are both victim and hero all at once--yeah.  There’s a lot there to connect with, and I wouldn’t want to take it away from anyone.  But the compelling story I want, for me, is different.

I look at Crowley and I want a story about someone who absolutely has the capacity for cruelty and disseminating evil into the world.  Somebody who’s actually really skilled at it, even if all he does is create opportunities, and humans themselves just keep living down to and even surpassing his expectations.  Somebody who enjoys it, even.  Maybe he was unfairly labeled and tossed out of heaven to begin with, but he’s embraced what he was given.  He’s thrived.  He is, legitimately, a bad person.

And he tries to save the world anyway.

He loves Aziraphale.  He helps save the entire world.  Scared and desperate and determined and devoted, he drives through a wall of fire for the sake of something other than himself.  He likes humans, their cleverness, their complexities, the talent they have for doing the same sort of evil he does himself, the talent they have for doing the exact opposite.  He cares.

It’s not a story about someone who was always secretly good even though they tried to convince the whole world and themself that they weren’t.  It’s a story about someone who, despite being legitimately bad in so many ways, still has the capacity to be good anyway.  It’s not about redemption, or about what Heaven thinks or judges or wants.  It’s about free will.  However terrible you are or were or have the ability to be, you can still choose to do a good thing.  You can still love.  You can still be loved in return.

And I think that matters.

[dialovers-translations]

DIABOLIK LOVERS MORE, MORE BLOOD Vol.13 Kino [Track 4]

Original title: ラビリンス

Source: Diabolik Lovers More, More Blood Vol. 13 Kino [CD not owned by me]

Audio: Here (38:03 ~ 48:00)

Seiyuu: Tomoaki Maeno

Translator’s note: The plot thickens!! I’m definitely enjoying the different approach taken in this CD. When there’s 13 CDs all with the same basic plot, it’s nice to see they put in some effort to make every one of them unique. Overall, I think the MMB series was handled quite well, but this is soon turning out to be one of my favorites even though I have very little attachment to Kino as a character!

Track 1 ll Track 2 ll Track 3 ll Track 4 ll Track 5 + Epilogue

→  LIKE MY TRANSLATIONS? SUPPORT ME ON KO-FI!

Track 4: Labyrinth

“Ah-aah~ We’re finally done! After repeating the announcement so many times, I guess it only makes sense I remembered the text by heart. But it wasn’t half bad! I’m sure you had fun as well, no? After all, I took such ‘great’ (1) care of you~”

You protest.

“Huh? What a cold reaction...Are you upset, perhaps? Because I used the Hourglass to my heart’s content and sucked your blood time after time?”

You shake your head.

“Hmm~? So you’re upset about something else? Let me just tell you, but you’re the one who failed to suppress their voice, so you only have yourself to blame for how the announcement ultimately turned out. I’m not to blame.”

You complain about Kino not rewinding at the very end.

“Hahaha! What are you saying? Why would I rewind the last time? Your performance was broadcasted across the entire school after all. Hehe~ I’m curious what kind of rumors will be spreading tomorrow. ...Still, it’s odd. I figured a raging teacher would come bursting it at some point. Maybe people don’t actually pay attention to the school intercom at all.

ーー Or rather, there doesn’t seem to be anyone around in general. I wonder if everyone went home already? ...In that case, what was even the point of our announcement? Guess we should grab our stuff and hurry back home too.”

Kino turns his head towards you.

“So? We’re still not at our classroom?”

You seem confused.

“What do you mean, ‘if I recall correctly’...? Don’t tell me you spaced out and got ourselves lost again? I visited the broadcasting room for the first time today, so I don’t remember the way back to our classroom.”

He looks around.

“I’d be able to tell once we reach familiar territory but...Say? Isn’t there something off about this atmosphere? Classes may have already ended, but it still seems too deserted. I feel as if there’s way too many doors as well...? 

Kino comes to a halt.

“Rather than just a hunch, there’s actually too many, right? ...Say, which part of the campus are we currently at?”

You explain.

“Eh? Nearby our classroom? No way, right? I should be able to recognize it by now. There were never this many doors around!”

You insist that you know where you’re going.

“Yeah, yeah. Let’s try opening one up then. At this point, any classroom will do. I’m not in the mood to get lost with you.”

*Rattle*

“...Eh!?”

You ask him what is wrong.

“I-It’s...a hallway.”

You seem skeptical.

“You should take a look as well!”

You peek inside the room.

“See? I wasn’t lying, right? Don’t tell me...There’s hallways which lead to another hallway in the human world as well?”

You shake your head.

“Well...I guess so. It doesn’t make sense, huh? Then how do you explain this?”

You shrug.

“Guess there’s no way you’d know. Anyway, we have to get back to our classroom. Somehow I’ve got a bad feeling about this.”

*Rattle*

“This is...No, let’s not. These kind of places usually have traps.”

He continues walking.

“I mean, there’s no way this door leads to another hallway as well, riーー”

*Rattle*

“...!! No way...”

You rush to his side.

*Rattle*

“This one too...”

You continue following Kino around.

“As you can see, all of them connect to other hallways...Say, something really messed up is going on over here, no?”

You start to panic.

“Even if you ask me what to do...All we’ve got to work with is this row of doors, nor do we know what is going on outside. Guess we’ve got no other choice. Let’s try and walk down this hallway. We might be able to find a way out somehow. Worst-case-scenario, I could always use my magic to blast through the wall.”

You agree as the two of you continue walking.

“This hallway has a bunch of doors as well...Not exactly something I want to see right now. Let’s try opening them one by one starting from the corner. Can you handle the opposite end?”

You nod.

“Mmh. Let’s get started then.”

*Rattle*

“...Another hallway!? How about yours!?”

*Rattle*

“...No luck, huh? Try opening them all! There might be one leading to something else! I’m sure!”

*Rattle*

“Ugh...This one too...Fuck!”

Kino continues opening all the doors but to no avail.

“...!? What is going on!? All doors lead to hallways!?”

You finish opening all doors on the opposite end.

“...Ah. No luck on your end either? This sucks...There’s still some doors left, but we don’t even know how long this hallway is exactly...This reminds me of a game bug. I was having so much fun using the Hourglass as well...So why did this have to happen!? ...!! Hourglass...Time...”

You tilt your head to the side.

“No...But perhaps...This might be a result of turning back time.”

You seem shocked.

“Think about it. You remember, don’t you? You got the classroom we had to move to wrong earlier today, no? So we ended up spending time on the rooftop instead. You were having trouble locating the cafeteria as well and inside the broadcasting room, the start button swapped places. That switch...I remember very well because it was right by my hand. I’m fairly certain it didn’t move until after I had used the Hourglass.”

*Cling*

“If time and space warped every time I used this to rewind time...Then this bug-like situation isn’t entirely unthinkable. We repeated the process several times, so it wouldn’t be strange for the distortion caused by that to draw forth this kind of situation...”

*Cling*

“Whoever made this item must have had one hell of a rotten personality. I’d ‘love’ to meet them.”

You grow scared.

“Ah, no need to tear up. In that case...While I do feel kind of bad for the school, I’ll just blow away this whole hallway. Stay back for a bit, okay?”

You step away.

“Here I go...”

Kino charges his magic before charging it at the wall.

“...Hahー!!”

*BOOM*

“...!! Why...!? It won’t even budge...This is bad. The magic is blocking it. It’s almost as if even my magic is being warped and rendered null...I guess that means the Hourglass’ energy is flowing through this entire airspace...Fuck! If we don’t play our cards right, we might not be able to make it out and remain stuck in here forever...”

You grow desperate.

“...! No need to cry. ...There’s no way there isn’t a single exit at least. There’s a solution to any problem. ...Don’t you think so as well?”

You nod.

“See? So you do understand after all. ...Well then, why don’t we start from scratch and try opening the doors again? We have to quickly solve this predicament...For your sake as well. There’s nothing fun about seeing you tremble in fear over something or someone other than me after all.”

*Smooch*

“...Bet you wondered why I would do that given the circumstances, huh? However, I felt like doing it exactly because of this current situation.”

You frown.

“Ah! That wasn’t meant as a death flag or anything so rest assured! Well then...Shall we get going? Let’s hold hands...So we don’t get separated.”

Kino grabs hold of your hand before the two of you walk off.

ーー TO BE CONTINUED ーー

Translation notes

(1) The term かわいがる or ‘kawaigaru’ can be used in an ironic fashion. In that case, it does not mean ‘to spoil/to dote on’, but ‘to tease’.