#I think if he was able to write the entire store before publishing things would have been better
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okay i'm reading something for my literary theory class rn and it's giving me Thoughts about why the passage of time in max ride is so fucking jarring. i don't think that what i'm about to say is anything that others haven't pointed out about MR before, but i do think that it situates james patterson's writing within a larger literary tradition, SO!
the russian literary scholar mikhail bakhtin uses this term called "adventure-time" (i know, bear with me) to describe a particular style of time passage in novels (particularly in the genre of the greek romance, but it's applicable elsewhere). basically, adventure-time is a form of story-time outside of the "realistic" passage of time, where a bunch of different things happen to the characters that 1) have no impact on their character development, and 2) would realistically take up the duration of years in their life, but by the end of the story, the characters basically haven't aged. a good modern example of this concept is pokemon: ash ketchum has been ten years old for 20+ years, but because the story of pokemon takes place in "adventure-time," he experiences several lifetimes' worth of adventures and never ages.
similarly, maximum ride seems to take place in adventure-time. over the course of nine books, max and the flock only age roughly about one year. their adventures happen in this compressed story timeframe that has no relation to real-world time. others have noticed this; it's not a particularly new thought. adventure-time isn't uncommon in literature, though - these days, a good number of stories for kids in particular take place with this kind of nebulous time-frame (see again: pokemon). since it dates back to greek antiquity, it's a common way to conceptualize story-time.
HOWEVER. another attribute of adventure-time, as it's used in the greek romance, is that it lacks any references to real historical time. basically, any greek romance should be able to be read as though it's taking place in the reader's time, even if it was written 300 years earlier. nothing should jar the reader out of the sense that the story is taking place in adventure-time. (this used to be a lot more common in storytelling, and i feel like it's fallen out of favor because of the specificity of technology in different eras these days - it's hard to write a story now with any technology that feels truly timeless, but i digress.)
as others have pointed out, max's narration mentions markers of time and pop culture references that date the books very specifically. for example, in the second book (published around 2006), ari steals a gameboy from a department store; then, in the 7th (?) book, it mentions that it's 2010, but the flock have only aged about one year since the beginning of the series. by 2010, you likely wouldn't be able to buy a gameboy in a department store, and those are the types of chronological dissonances that readers absolutely latch onto (see: the entire history of the maximum ride fandom).
SO BASICALLY: maximum ride is doing this really weird thing where it's trying to take place in adventure-time (which requires readers to not think too hard about the passage of time), while also inserting very specific references that almost force readers to think about chronological time. if these specific references were taken out, i'd bet that readers would have an easier time excusing the sheer amount of events that supposedly take place within a single year of the flock's life, because nothing in the narration itself would prompt them to think about it.
anyway. james patterson doesn't understand adventure-time. thanks for coming to my tedtalk.
#they speak#maximum ride#james patterson#i read something too where someone pointed out that the reason JP puts in all these refs is bc he used to work in advertising#WHICH MAKES SO MUCH SENSE#capitalism is the death of good storytelling#anyway
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Writing Pattern Tag Game!
Rules: Share the opening of your last ten published works or as many as you are able and see if there are any patterns!
Thank you so much for tagging me @sambambucky !
The Offering
Sam has had a very tiring day. He’d gone to work at the Vampire Assistance Agency at seven PM, just after the sun had set. He’d gone to a meeting at 7:30 for training on new services the VAA will be offering next year and review training on the services they currently offer. When the meeting was over at 8:37 (because these things always run long), he’d gone straight to his office to organize his case notes and prepare for the day. He’d made it to one of the group rooms and run a group session for elder vampires at 9:15, spent fifteen minutes cleaning up the room, and then run the group session for recently-turned vampires at 10:30. He spent another fifteen minutes cleaning up the room, and then he’d finally gotten to take his lunch break at midnight. He was finished by 12:45, which gave him enough time to prepare for his individual sessions, which went throughout the early hours of the morning and finished at five AM.
Falling/Already Fell
Sam’s head is once again spinning at how much older his nephews have gotten. Cass had just recently turned thirteen, and that would be a lot on its own, but Sam and Bucky are playing chauffeurs for his very first date. They’d taken the truck from home to Sarah’s to pick up Cass, who looked nervous and was wearing too much cologne—since when did Sam’s nephew even wear cologne? Then they’d picked up Tia, who seemed shy and quiet and sweet, with her hair in a fancy configuration of braids that must’ve taken forever to do and braces on her bright smile. Cass and Tia had talked in awkward, stilted conversation in the backseats of Sam’s truck while they drove to the movie theater, and then Sam and Bucky had dropped them off and headed to the mall to give the kids their time together.
Bucky and His Books
They’re in Sam’s truck, driving back home from Sarah’s after a long day of helping her with the boat and the boys, when Bucky turns to Sam with a guarded sort of frown.
There Was More Than One Bed (But Who's Counting?)
Sam is not okay.
The Guy Next Door
“Hey, you’re bus fight guy, right?” Joaquín asks, watching his new neighbor stare forlornly at the boxes he still hasn’t moved into his room.
Dear Sam
Dear Sam, This is a stupid exercise my therapist recommended. Apparently, I struggle with expressing my emotions verbally, so I’m supposed to try writing out my feelings. I hate this idea. I think it’s dumb. Sorry to drag you into it.
The Pirate Fic
Bucky folds his arms over his chest. The sun is particularly brutal today, beating down on his head, and he’s glad he’d worn his hat this time. He surveys the tiny island his ship is docked at. It’s little more than a stretch of sand with a dock built on it, big enough for one ship to dock at. A craggy rock face looms at the other end. There’s a small, dark cave entrance in the rock face that connects to the cave network the mermaids come from whenever Bucky and his crew meet with them to trade.
The Valentine Struggle
“I need a valentine that says, ‘I adore you, and I want you in my life forever,’ but in the most platonic way possible,” Yelena tells the store clerk. She’s in a Hallmark store, a store dedicated entirely to cards and gifts, and yet she hasn’t been able to find valentines that express how deep her love is without making it romantic.
Date Night
“So, the thing is, I really need your help,” Sam tells Jay before Jay can even get his usual greeting out.
Bucky Barnes Hates Christmas
Bucky Barnes hates Christmas.
Analysis: So it seems like my openings are either a single sentence or pretty long, with not much in between. Shorter works seem to get the shorter openings. Also if the beginning chapter is going to be angsty, it seems like I enjoy starting with like a single angsty sentence (i.e. "Sam is not okay.") and then further explaining it in the next paragraphs instead of cramming all the characters' feelings into the opening paragraph. I like opening with dialogue, but I didn't do it as much as I would've thought I had, but both of the rareship oneshots started with dialogue, which is interesting because I view the rareship fics as being more "for me" than other fics I write, so maybe I have more fun with them and don't overthink the openings as much as I do with SamBucky fics? Anyway, this was a fun little exercise. If you catch any other patterns, feel free to let me know!
No-pressure tagging @allcolorsoftherainbow and anyone else who might want to do this!
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Things you hate about Hori's writing?
Before we begin, I want to state that I don’t think Hori is a bad writer. I think he has strengths and weaknesses like all writers. I also know that Hori is under a lot of pressure from fans, his editor, publishers, and whoever else is involved with making a manga. I’m also aware that writing a manga is different than book writing, which is what I’m trying to study, so I may not understand a few things. Plus, Hori is under a time crunch which may affect his writing.
That being said, I was asked what I don’t like about his writing, so;
Notes:
*BNHA Critical
*Anti-Shigaraki (mainly how he's written and handled storywise.)
*Take it with a grain of salt
*Keep in mind that these will be writing elements only, not how I feel about characters.
Also, keep in mind that BNHA is a LONG series, so please be polite in your corrections if you feel there's a mistake. Also, the post is a bit rambly, so if you would like me to clarify something I said, let me know.
1: Lack of Build up.
*Now, not everything needs to be built up in a story, however, if it plays an important role, story or character-wise, then it has to.
This especially failed with Midnight, which pissed me off because Hori showed he could do death a scene right with Twice! Twice was built up as a person, we saw his connections with people, we saw him fighting for what he believed in, and we saw him die. We got none of that with Midnight. To anyone who only read the main manga, did you know she was high school friends with Aizawa and Hizashi and that she took in a kitten they found? And that SHE was the one who pushed Aizawa into his teaching job? No, you didn’t. Because Hori failed to tell us that. Also, Hori failed to build Midnight up as a person, show us what she loved, skipped her death scene, and yet expects to get the same emotional payoff as Twice.
2: Not allowing us to learn more about Class 1-A and seeing their internal struggles.
*I hate the LoV but I understand why others may connect with them. One of the reasons is that we get to see their inner thoughts and feeling and learn about their past and why they’re the way they are. With Class 1-A we don’t know over half the class. What do I mean by that?
Why are they heroes? Tenya wants to be like his brother, Izuku wants to be like All Might, and Ochako wants money for her family and just likes helping people. But what about Toru? Why does she want to be a hero? How did she get in? And so on. What are the students' morals? They believe in protecting people, but what else? Are they chaotic? Lawful? Neutral? What? And what are their struggles? Etc.
Why is all of this important, and why is it a writing failure? Because we need this stuff to care about the characters. This is especially important in the climax where we’re supposed to be rooting for the heroes, but instead, most aren’t. Why? Because we never got to get to know them.
3: Important information is in side materials
*Most of the development of Class 1-A is in Team Up Missions and school briefs where the canon is questionable as they’re written by different authors. But the worst offense is having Aizawa’s backstory in BNHA:V. Why? Because the payoff for that backstory is in the main series. Aizawa’s backstory has no emotional weight and feels out of place in BNHA:V. There’s no reason why it shouldn’t have been the main story. It could have been slipped in while Aizawa and Hizashi are driving to see Kurogiri. This is especially important as it tells the audience of the main series who Oboro is and why he’s important. As of now, without reading the other series, he’s just a few images where he barely talks.
For it is a huge writing failure on the writer's part if I have to buy DLC or go to side materials to get the complete story as those are supposed to add, not fill in plot holes and such.
4: Everything is being shoved into the final climax
*In the climax where everything is supposed to come to a head, we are dealing with the backstories of several characters, plot points that barely showed up, several "twists" and more, making the fight longer than a DBZ battle. Not only does this stretch things out to the point of boredom where everyone is just like, "get on with it!" but it also fails to give us and the story time to build on these points, most of which are important. To be fair, I don't think this is Hori's fault, as he's being pushed to wrap things up if the rumors are correct.
5: Shiggy barely does anything
*Shiggy is the main villain of the series. He’s on the posters, the covers, in the theme song, etc.
Yet he doesn’t do a thing to push the plot and Izuku’s arc till the end. And even then, AFO’s does most of the work. No, really; after the USJ arc and before the hospital arc, how does Shiggy influence the plot?
He released two Nomus after meeting Stain. Okay. What role does that play in the plot or on Izuku? None. You can take that out and it wouldn’t change the story except for a scene or two. Shiggy “talks” with Izuku at the mall? What’s the effect there? Well, it has them change the campsite but again, that changes nothing as far as the story goes, nor does it push the plot. And Izuku? Again, no change. Shiggy orders Izuku’s death? See above. The scene with Bakagou? Put anyone there, and it would have been the same. And as soon as the heroes show up, it becomes about AFO.
And once AFO is arrested? Overhaul becomes the villain and—correct me if I’m wrong—the other league members play a bigger role than him. And none of his actions affect the plot that much. Like, do the member of the league do anything that Overhaul’s minions couldn’t do? And again, the effect on Izuku, the protagonist; zero.
It isn’t until Giran is captured that Shiggy does something to push the plot forward and that’s defeating Re-Destructo and having the MLA join him. After that? He goes to sleep so he can get a makeover! (Which, to be fair, paid off as his hair becomes nice and fluffy, but still.)
It’s not until the hospital raid that Shiggy not only moves the plot forward AND affects Izuku. And then, almost immediately, AFO takes over. Even in the current arc, I’m not sure if it’s Shiggy fighting or AFO. The most he did was in the USJ arc, and even then, it was the NOMU that affected the characters and plot. True, Shiggy nearly kills Tsuyu and figures out Aizawa's trick, but he's not the one who leaves the damage on Aizawa that persist throughout the series or lessens All Might's time. It's the Nomu. He crushes Aizawa's face and the rest of his body, then stands enough of a threat against All Might that he has to push past his limit. And both these actions affect the plot of the story. None of Shiggy's actions do.
In Inuyasha we barely saw Naraku, however, you can’t take him out of the story and replace him with someone else. Why? Because the story wouldn’t have happened without Naraku being Naraku. Without him, Kikyo wouldn’t have died nor would the drama between her and Inuyasha. (Not to mention the drama with the rest of the party.) The point is that if Naraku vanished from Inuyasha the whole story would fall apart.
That’s not the case with Shiggy. Anyone could have led the attack on USJ and had the same effect on the story and the characters. Anyone could have been possessed by AFO and triggered Izuku’s need to save them. Anyone could be Nana’s grandson and the effect would be the same. And, as Shiggy is the poster villain for MHA, this is the greatest writing failure of MHA. Why? Because a villain's role is to push the plot and the hero's arc forward.
Hell, Overhaul is only around for one arc, and he affects the story more than Shiggy;
Overhaul's actions caused Izuku to force himself to grow to help Eri, then showed Izuku that defeating a villain isn't enough to save someone as Eri was still traumatized. Mirio lost his quirk, prompting a sense of guilt in Izuku but determination in Eri so she could help him. The bullets Overhaul made come back and cripple Aizawa to the point he has to depend on others. Night eye is killed by him and dies in Ochako's arms, forcing her to rethink her career and install an intense need to save others so no one dies on her watch again. And so on.
And as for AFO, just like Naraku, the story wouldn't exist without him. Without him, there would be no OFA, All Might's backstory wouldn't have happened, all the nomu plots wouldn't exist, and Shiggy would have nothing. Everything Shiggy has isn't through his own strength but through AFO.
The point is that AFO and Overhaul cannot be removed or replaced by another to make the story function. Shiggy can, and to me, that is a huge failure.
Special mentions; (these are more opinion based)
1: Wasted concepts
*Hori has a bunch of good ideas but due to time constraints or overwhelming himself, Hori rarely follows through or explores the full potential.
The biggest example is the Nomus. I stated this in another post but I’ll copy it here;
“The Nomus are the ones that carry the threat and the emotional impact for the main cast. Kurogiri connects to Aizawa and shows that AFO has not only been stealing corpses but has been eyeing UA students especially, which connects to UA. And the Bat Nomu is a personal connection to Izuku and Bakagou, who are both major players. And we know Dabi’s connection to the plot.”
Because the Nomus are mostly made of dead people, this could have a huge impact on the cast. Forget about Shiggy, if AFO really wanted to get back at All Might he should have used Nana’s corpse in some way. That would have shaken him up and hurt him and the audience more than some kid All Might met once. Plus, the nomus aren’t just dead people, they’re living people that were experimented on. Think of how that raises the stakes for the heroes as they’re not just fighting villains, they’re fighting innocent people who were kidnapped and brainwashed. And every time a hero dies they can end up as one of those monsters. Again, the emotional stakes are raised.
This is especially important for Izuku. Even if the bat nomu disappeared after one arc he would still have made an impact on the story if he had faced Izuku and been revealed who he was. Why? Because he was someone Izuku knew. A bully, yes, but still someone Izuku knew. And AFO turned him into a monster. This gives Izuku a personal reason to fight and train harder while introducing him to the kind of person AFO was. Whether Bat Nomu died or was captured, there’s a personal stake for Izuku.
I could go on, but this post is already gonna be long. The gist is that we got the bare minimum with them and it’s a shame.
But it’s not just the Nomus, there’s also Stain. They introduced a cool villain with a decent concept and half a leg to stand on, but they lock him up right away and don’t bother with him again for over two hundred chapters. And even then he does ONE thing, then vanishes.
There are also a ton of wasted characters like over half the class of 1-A, The UA teachers, the quirkless, the MLA, and Sir Night Eye.
Now to balance this, here’s what I like about Hori’s writing;
1: Decent Concepts *While he doesn’t always explore them very well, Hori does put out fun concepts that fanfic writers myself have fun with.
2: The creative use of Quirks *When Hori shows us the quirks he’s very creative in their uses which is cool to see. And there’s a lot of science and research behind them that I’m discovering.
3: The Characters *Love ‘em or hate ‘em, Hori creates a lot of interesting characters, a majority that people want to learn about. (Shame we don’t but I digress.) (Plus most of the designs are creative.)
4: All Might’s character and arc *Nearly everything about All Might is perfect from a story perspective. Almost everything about how All Might is written is done absolutely well.
5: The setup *The stage Hori set up is very interesting and I like it. I like the premise, the setting, the characters, and more.
6: The Art *I like most of Hori’s designs as they’re nice-looking and creative. Most of the costumes are fun as well. (I love Ochako's hero costume! As well as Stars and Stripes'.)
7: Subtle scenes *This is mainly shown in the beginning, but many small scenes carry many character and story elements without it being overly obvious. But I talked about them in my chapter reviews, so I won't repeat myself.
And that's it! Feel free to share what you like or dislike about Hori's writing elements.
#anti league of villains#anti lov#anti shigaraki#anti shigaraki tomura#anti tomura shigaraki#bnha meta#bnha critical#mha#bnha#long post#anon reply#hori's writing#bnha praise#I don't think Hori's a bad writer#I think he was rushed on a lot of stuff#pressured#and just over his head#I think if he was able to write the entire store before publishing things would have been better#sadly manga doesn't work that way
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unexpectedly fallen — bangchan
➳ published: 4.10.21 ➳ greek mythology!au || genre: fluff || smut || rated: m ➳ pairing: bangchan x reader ➳ summary: sometimes you don't expect to find comfort in someone but sometimes life has another thing in store for you ➳ word count: 7.8k ➳ warnings: finger fucking, oral (fem. receiving) ➳ author's note: god i hope this is okay, it was a lot harder to write than i thought. i'm so sorry to everyone who has been following me. i've had really bad writer's block mixed with bad mental health and uni.
this is part of the gods among us collab!!
‘As the times change, legends tend to fade into nothing more than myths, stories to tell and share across the generations and what were once great feats, great victories, become nothing more than bedtimes stories that people share with their children. Nobody believes in the Old Gods; in the way the world once was and if nobody believed in the Gods then they certainly no longer believe in the beasts that once roamed the world.
There are legends about Cerberus, the hound of Hades and the guard dog of the Underworld, they date back for centuries and detail various stories about the mighty beast. The three headed hound who kept the dead from leaving the Underworld, his mass enough to fill the cave that was the entrance to the great beyond; he was Hades’ most trusted beast, one of the twelve labours, he defeated many heroes in the stories of old.
But no matter what these stories depicted, no matter how many different versions there were, nobody could ever deny that Cerberus wasn’t a good boy. Loyal and obedient to his Master’s word, he upheld his duty to Underworld no matter what the cost. Cerberus was a good boy – is a good boy – even as the legends fade into nothing more than myths, stories to tell and share.’
Slamming the book closed, you yawn, stretching out and rolling onto your back as you look up to the ceiling. You think about the stories you were told about your father, the stories that your mother would tell you about the man she fell in love with once upon a time but you never really cared enough to listen. He has been absent your entire life outside of the gift he would send every year on your birthday – a small obol that you could use to visit him. Your mother had always told you that your father wasn’t able to visit often, that because of how the times were, it was often difficult for him to fit in or even be able to manage to come up from the Underworld because of his duties. It didn’t matter though, the fact that he never made the effort to at least visit, made you not want to go and see him whether he sent you the obols or not; they stayed in a drawer, in your room, with all the other junk knick-knacks you never throw away.
Though, the idea of visiting him has become something that you are considering now that circumstances have changed.
Rolling over onto your side, you look at the picture frame on the nightstand and sigh softly, reaching out for it even though it’s not quite within your reach. “You know, you could have at least waited another year.” You say softly, pouting as you do. “I graduate in a few months and it would have been nice to have you here with me.” There is no answer of course, you never expected there to be one as you look at your mother and yourself smiling brightly in the photo.
This was taken last year on your birthday, before she had been diagnosed with a disease that was slowly killing her. There was nothing they could do because it had been found too late; she never showed symptoms or any signs of being sick and yet, there she was, dying a little more each day before your eyes. Life was so much easier then, when you had her support on those days at university where nothing seemed to go right.
It was so easy to go home but now…
Placing the frame back in its place, you pull the blankets over you. “Alexa, good night.” With a heavy heart, you fall into a dreamless sleep with the only thought that seems to be in your mind as your body relaxed into the mattress is the thought of seeing your father.
In the Underworld.
Chan leans back and stretches out in his chair, arms raised above his head with the joints in his shoulders popping nicely as he lets out a loud yawn. It’s been so long since anyone came to the Underworld who isn’t dead, gone are the days of Greek heroes trying to rescue their girls, and ever since those days have become nothing more than a memory, he’s been bored shitless.
Feet propped up on the desk, Chan closes his eyes and lets the sun lull him into an afternoon nap. His dark hair shimmers with deep blues and purples in the sun while his fair skin is exposed to the harsh rays; normally he would shift and slumber in the entrance of his cave but there hasn’t been a visitor in centuries so he has no worries about being disturbed in his human form. “I really should see if Hades would let me get a job in the town.” He mumbles to himself, his bare chest rising and falling with deep, relaxed breaths.
It would take a whole three seconds to fall asleep, one to allow every muscle in his body to relax completely, two for his mind to stop its racing and settle down, and three for everything to fade into darkness as he falls off the edge into the depths of dreamland below. Though, it takes a whole three seconds for you to disturb the hound’s serene rest in the sun. One to walk up to the desk, two to look at the shirtless man before you, and three to speak and nearly make him fall off his chair.
You never really knew what you expected to see when you reached the entrance to the Underworld, were you expecting to see a large three-headed dog snarling as you approached or some man in his prime standing guard decked out in Greek warrior armour? You weren’t really sure but what you didn’t expect to see was this guy who looked like he belonged at your university, lazing shirtless in the sun without a care in the world. You stand there for a moment to take him in, coming to the conclusion that he barely looks older than you, with unnaturally handsome features and muscles that indicate he spends most of his time working out.
Though, considering he’s currently taking a nap, you wonder if he’s just supernaturally blessed.
“Hello?” You ask, knocking on the desk, making a small sound of surprise when Chan manages to right himself before he ended up toppling over. He should have heard you, in any other circumstance he would have but it’s been so long since anyone has approached him that he never thought he would actually need to pay proper attention to his surroundings.
It’s not like Hercules is going to come and take him again.
“Who are you?” He asks, voice a little rougher than what he intended as he was so close to sleep, he hasn’t slept properly in centuries and this was going to be the time… or so he likes to kid himself. Rubbing his eyes, his brow furrows and lips curl upwards as he wakes himself up properly. “Are you dead or are you-” Chan stops in his tracks as he looks at you, blinking a few times to make sure he isn’t dreaming but the longer he looks at you, the more he’s sure that you are standing in front of him. “Who are you?” He repeats and takes a step closer, which causes you to take a step back.
The man sniffs the air, a low growl erupting from his chest as he backs you up against the cave wall, causing you to lift your hands, placing them against his firm pecs, to keep him from getting any closer. You can see his canines pressing against his bottom lips and his dark eyes looking a little more feral as he stops to look at you. You stutter out your name, clearing your throat to repeat it again while he tilts his head, seeming to be slightly confused when he moves away. “I’m here to see Hades.”
Chan scoffs, raising an eyebrow as he looks at you up and down which you find both unsettling and annoying, “sorry human but that’s a no-go.” He moves you out of the entrance of the cave and gives you a gentle push back towards the town you had just came from. “Now, run back to civilisation.” He heads back to his seat and you follow him, digging around in your pocket. “Look, miss, I can’t help you-” He begins as you slam the obol down on the desk which causes him to stop and look at your hand moving away from the coin.
He hasn’t seen one of those in a long time.
“What’s this?” Chan looks at you, raising his eyebrow as he folds his arms over his chest.
You look at him, taking him in for a moment before you answer. Any other circumstance and you may be checking him out, but that isn’t the look you give him. “You know,” you tilt your head to the side like you’re inspecting something, “you really aren’t what I expected.”
He visibly deflates, what a strange human you are? “Miss, I don’t know what you expected but whatever you are looking for, it isn’t here.”
“Yes, it is.” You point to the back of the cave, “what I want is down there.”
“You aren’t going to the Underworld.”
“Why not? I gave you the obol.”
Chan scoffs and shakes his head, “the obol is for Charon to cross the River of Styx, to pay the ferryman.” He says with a condescending tone, like this is a fact that you should obviously know – which you do, he doesn’t know that though. “But there is something wrong with the situation, I am not Charon and you are not dead.”
Mimicking his stance, you fold your arms over your chest then roll your eyes. “I know that,” you say with a childish tone, clearly with the intent to annoy him. “You are Cerberus and I am the daughter of Hades.” You wear a victorious smile when the man’s eyes widen in disbelief.
You sometimes couldn’t help yourself, always needing to be right and argue when you knew that you were, no matter who the person on the other side of the argument was. Your mother said it was a trait that your father had and you refuse to believe that but considering she was always sweet and calm, never falling for your baiting, you eventually had to agree that you had something in common with your old man.
“So, Cerberus, are you going to take me?” You don’t drop the superior act, feeling rather smug about having stumped the guardian to the Underworld but as he narrows his eyes, a low, deep rumble echoing around you, you quickly drop your arms and give him an apologetic smile.
“Chan,” he corrects you as he grabs the obol, flips the coin in the air and catches it before pushing into the back pocket of his dark denim jeans. “Nobody has called me Cerberus in decades.” He doesn’t move, standing there looking at you, studying you as he tries to work out whether you are lying or not.
There aren’t many children spawned by Hades, Zeus was the God who liked to put his dick into everything and hasn’t changed at all even as the years passed but Hades had only really sired two children. One was with Persephone and the other has returned to the Underworld… “If you’re the daughter of Hades, why have I never heard of you?”
You shrug, “it’s not like Hades wins ‘Father of the Year’ awards, I’m not surprised if he never spoke of me considering I told people my dad’s dead.” Chan lets out a short, amused huff through his nose. “How about you take me to him and let him decide whether I’m really his kid or if I’m just another human making shit up?” You say it like this is something that happens all the time, humans claiming to be demigods.
Well, for Zeus… yes, but not so much for Hades.
Choosing to believe you, for now, he leads you in silence into the cave, the darkness soon swallowing you whole as you wander in the dark without a guide until a dim light erupts around you. Chan doesn’t say a word as the blue flames begin to light a path down a set of stairs that feel like they go on forever.
Deeper.
Deeper.
You feel like you’ve been descending these stairs for hours before you finally reach the bottom and everything before you, you never expected to see. “Welcome to the Underworld.” Chan feigns a cheerful tone as you stop beside him and look at the metropolis before you. It resembles the city that you grew up in, large skyscrapers and buildings everywhere with traffic and pedestrians moving around the streets to where they want to go. “Hades likes to keep up with the times so he changes things around every few hundred years so that the souls that rest here don’t get bored and moan for hours on end.” He chuckles a little, “it’s actually bearable down here now.”
Following Chan through the bustling streets proves harder than what you thought; while the souls don’t have a physical form, they still seem to make it difficult to get around as they pass through you, the feeling similar to what you would think a dementor would feel like if they were to try and suck out your soul. It makes you feel sick to your stomach, cold and sickly as you push forward. You are too stubborn for your own good, trying to keep moving while stumbling and growing dizzy. It’s not until your vision starts to black out that you realise that if you don’t do something then you will pass out right then and there.
“Ch-ch-chan…” You manage to get out, the words feeling like they are sticking to the back of your throat and being squeezed from you, rather than you speaking them but however they came to become sound works as the hellhound stops and turns to look at your pale features.
Sighing, he walks back towards you; he should have warned you about avoiding the spirits, the effects that they have on humans and how dangerous it can be to have too many spirits pass through you. Sure, you could technically be a demigod and so you won’t die but the effects can still take a toll on your human body. “Come here,” he lifts you up and while normally you would protest, right now, you don’t have the energy to push him away or fight him on the matter so instead, you allow him to carry you. He does so effortlessly, carrying you bridal-style towards a large building as you close your eyes and take the moment to rest.
“Are you nervous?” He asks after a while, chuckling at the way your eyes widen when you open them and meet his eyes. You hadn’t been expecting to open your eyes and have his face so close to yours, especially when there is really no need for it to be. A soft blush dusting your cheeks as the corner of his lips lift up. “Do I make you nervous?”
He stops in front of the largest skyscraper and you immediately struggle to get down and smooth out your shirt before tidying your hair. “N-no.” You lie, well, it’s not a complete lie. You aren’t nervous to meet Hades, you’ve heard a lot about him from your mother and the fact that he’s tried to have you visit him for so many years, even this year, it makes it clear that he does want to see you. What made you nervous was how he could have his face so close to yours without flinching away when you came to. “Don’t you own a shirt?” You can’t help your eyes running down his body briefly before looking away.
Chan notices your gaze, one that he knows you didn’t mean but that doesn’t stop him from making the comment. “Eyes up here, sweetheart.” You narrow your eyes while he flashes a proud smile for having gotten under your skin. “Does it bother you?”
“Yes,” you answer, hoping that he would at least do something about it.
He nods, “good,” before walking up the stairs and leaving you standing there, shocked and annoyed. You always thought Cerberus was meant to be a good boy, that’s what the myths always seemed to show, that he was loyal and good.
Seems like the myths were wrong. Cerberus can be a dick, or at the least, he seems to enjoy your buttons more than he should.
The day seems to be going for a trifecta with the unexpected outcomes. First, Cerberus, then the Underworld and now, Hades. You were half-expecting him to walk in and laugh at you, mock you for coming all this way to see him when that wasn’t something he wanted but instead he stands there, looking at you in awe like you are the most amazing thing he had ever seen.
It is funny though, how he looks at you like you are a work of art while he could easily have so many humans falling to their knees for him. With a handsome and surprisingly gentle face, you know that you have inherited certain features from him; while everyone would tell you looked like your mother, seeing Hades before you, you realise that statement may not be as true as what you always believed. His hair is tied up in a top knot, the deep blue matching his suit while he strokes the stubble on his chin; the mythology really doesn’t do him justice because while they portrayed most of the Gods and Goddess as these beautiful beings, they never really gave much detail to Hades.
Though, you’re not sure how you would describe him other than God-like looks.
You feel like you’ve been standing there for hours now and the way he mutters, ‘look at you’, under his breath every now and again has started to become a nuisance. “How old are you?” He asks you for the umpteenth time.
Your jaw ticks slightly before you answer, a sign that you are losing your patience. “25.”
“Ah,” he nods as he scratches his chin, lips turned down as he thinks. “And you said that you were studying at university?”
Deep breath in and slowly exhale, “yes, I’m a literacy major.” You’ve repeated yourself several times now and your patience is starting to wear thin.
“Would you like to sit with me? We can talk and I get to know each other a little more over something to eat.” Oh no, you aren’t really prepared with bonding with an absent father. You never actually really thought very far about how this would go, or how long you could handle being around him, but having him ask you twenty questions isn’t something you think you can really handle without having time to process the fact that you actually methim.
Hades.
Lord of the Underworld.
Your father.
“Maybe another time.” You can see the disappointment in his eyes, though, it’s quickly gone and replaced with a smile as he nods, seemingly understanding. “I just wanted to meet you, this is all still weird and new to me but I just- I don’t know, I’m sorry.” You let out a self-deprecating laugh, “I don’t know what I expected really because it’s not like us sitting down and talking about my entire life and how you weren’t present in it is going to make up for your absence.”
Hades doesn’t seem to annoyed by your words, in fact, he looks saddened as he nods in agreement. “You have every right to be reluctant to let me in but let me try and make up for it.”
Do you? Do you let him try and make it up to you or do you cut your losses and do it alone? What do you really expect him to do? He can’t exactly move to Earth and be a present father, make up for all those years lost but your mother always said to give him a chance every time an obol arrived in an envelope that had nothing but your name written on the front. She always begged you to reach out, to visit, to let him try and be involved but you always said that if he never tried then why should you? Yet, here you are, with Hades asking you to give him that chance so, should you?
Can you really build a relationship with him?
Chan has been standing in the back of the room the whole time, not really paying attention to what was going on as he felt it had nothing to do with him; he did his job by taking you to Hades and now he waits until it’s time to take you back to Earth. He stood there quietly, zoned out and staring at a random spot on the wall while he daydreamed about being back at his desk, basking in the warm sun and finally getting his nap. He’s so completely in his own head that it takes him a while to respond to Hades’ voice faintly making its way into his spaced-out mind; he blinks rapidly and looks at his master, straightening his back as he stands to attention. “Yes sir?”
“You’ll accompany her back to Earth and stay with her until graduation.” You and Chan stare at Hades in disbelief, the immediate protest beginning as you both try and talk over each other.
“What-”
“Sir, I don’t-”
“You can’t-”
The moment Hades raises his hand, you stop and stare at him, fuming, while Chan looks down at the ground like a dog who is about to be reprimanded by his owner. “This wasn’t up for discussion or protest. I may not be able to bond and connect with you but I refuse to be on the side lines of your life; Chan has been guarding the entrance to the Underworld for hundreds of years and in recent times, he’s been rather bored.” Chan’s ears turn red, he never realised that Hades noticed that the hellhound was always going slightly insane with boredom. “You will have someone around that I trust and if you need anything, you will easily be able to get it and Chan can finally go and stretch his legs.”
You can hear it in his tone, the way that this isn’t up for discussion so you don’t bother to argue but you are wondering why this and why now? “You could come to Earth instead.” You say, not hiding the annoyance in your tone. “Instead of him, why don’t you come?”
While you aren’t completely sure whether you want Hades actively involved in your life, you are sure that you don’t want a new roommate who doesn’t where a shirt imposing on your life. Hades smiles at you before letting out a soft sigh. “As nice as the offer is, it isn’t that easy for me to just live on Earth, it’s the reason why I was out of your life for all those years.” He walks over to the large window that allows him to see over all of the Underworld, “I have to be here to make sure everything stays the way it should. If I’m away for too long then it will slowly start to fall apart and the balance will be destroyed between the Heavens, Earth and the Underworld.” He looks at you with regret in his eyes, knowing that you couldn’t possibly understand what he’s saying completely, as this isn’t your life – no matter how much you’ve studied it. “While I can visit you more often, this is the best I can do to be present in your life.”
Your shoulders drop as you look away, not at all impressed with this outcome; maybe it would have been better if you stayed away and went through life without ever having come down here, that way, you wouldn’t have to be in this strange and frustrating predicament. Yet, is it really that bad? While you have friends to hang out with and you haven’t really been alone in terms of always being able to have someone around you, you have felt lonely, like there’s a hole your mother left behind that can’t be filled.
Maybe this could be a way to help ease that emptiness.
Sure, it’s Cerberus – Chan – rather than Hades but he seems to want to be more active in your life. “So, if I agree,” you know you didn’t really have a choice but you like to pretend you do, “would you come visit more often?”
“Yes, at least once a month to allow you a chance to get to know me.” You nod, honestly thankful that he is taking into account that you still need time to forgive him for never being around – yeah, you get it but it still doesn’t excuse not making more of an effort.
“Can you make sure he,” you point at Chan, who narrows his eyes at you, “wears a shirt while we are forced to reside in the same apartment?”
Hades nods his head, “Chan is rather obedient, I’m sure he won’t have a problem wearing a shirt while he is on Earth.” While Hades seems so sure that his loyal and trusted beast would be on his best behaviour, Chan looks like he’s ready to make a run for the exit simply to escape the future that he doesn’t want.
Did he want to spend more time on Earth around the humans? Yes. Does he want to spend more time on Earth being around you, the human who seems to get on his nerves? No, but because his master says he has to, he’s going to.
Yay, lucky him.
“Hey, have you seen my-” Chan opens your door and you quickly wipe your eyes, trying to hide the evidence of your tears. “Were you crying?” He asks as he leans against the doorframe, crossing his arms over his chest and giving you a scrutinising look; he knows you were, he heard you down the hallway so he tried to think of an excuse to talk to you.
Graduation is around the corner and in the beginning, Chan couldn’t wait for it to come and go so that he could return back to his duty as the guardian of the Underworld but as each week passed, he found himself enjoying his time here more and more.
While you two tend to argue and push each other’s buttons, you really did like having the company. Chan is clean and takes care of the place, you give him space when he wants to relax and you fell into this calm routine that felt like you had known each other for years rather than months. Hades has visited a few times, always bringing unnecessary things with him but you slowly started to enjoy it because it showed you that he was really trying but just because your father is Hades and your roommate is the mythical beast, Cerberus, didn’t mean your life was nice and breezy. You miss your mum; you miss the fact that if you needed her that you could just head home and lay on the couch with her playing with your hair as she spoke about the lady in her Pilates class who had the funny tummy or how the clerk at her grocery store was definitelyin love with their boss.
You thought this would fill the void but if anything, it only made it worse.
“I’m fine,” your voice cracks a little and Chan moves towards you, sitting on the edge of your bed as his brow furrowed with worry. At first, you barely would speak to each other unless he was asking you about things or you were getting at each other about basically anything but lately, he’s been the only person who you could talk to when you needed comfort.
Chan looks at you, not believing for a second that you were fine. He’s seen you like this a few times and while he knows that you miss your mother, he’s never seen you like this. You have barely left your room, he can tell that you haven’t showered at all today and from what he’s heard, you’ve been crying all day. “Do you miss your mum?” He asks, voice softer than what it was when he opened the door.
You sniff, clicking your tongue, “I always miss her.” You wipe your eyes at the mention of her. While she isn’t the reason you are crying, the mention of her still makes your eyes tear up – she would have known what to do.
“But that’s not why you’re crying?” He says this carefully, slowly, like he’s trying to process it all in his head and you shake your head, pulling your knees to your chest and sighing. He really can be terrible at this, not that he has a lot of experience when it comes to comforting humans but sometimes you wonder if he ever actually listens to you for him to take so long to click onto what goes on in your life. “Hmm…” He looks at you, sniffing the air and trying to get a good read on your emotions, “you miss your mum but that’s not why you’re crying, graduation is around the corner but you’ve passed all your classes so you aren’t upset about that.” He rubs his face with his palm and your vision blurs again when your phone vibrates next to you, the reason for your tears trying to get a hold of you. Chan doesn’t miss this, the way you make yourself smaller and practically curl in on yourself as the phone vibrates like crazy.
You don’t immediately realise the phone has stopped vibrating or that he’s answered the phone until you hear a slight growl in his voice.
“Hello.” Chan answers, displeased by the reason that you are in such a state. He should have known; he should have expected such a thing to happen considering he had seen first-hand what this guy was like. Chan isn’t as stupid as you may think, he could tell when you had developed a crush on one of your classmates which he normally wouldn't care about but it took one house party for him to know what this man was truly like; a sweet talker, charming and pretty until the girls weren’t in the room and then he showed how much a playboy he was.
It took that one party for Chan to know that this man wasn't good for you.
Chan hated him, though he didn’t exactly know why really but it was something that he had said while you were getting a drink from the kitchen that made Chan wish he could give him a one-way ticket to the Underworld. “I bet I know how to put that mouth of hers to good use, teach her a good lesson.” The way he thought he was really smooth with that made Chan quickly finish his beer. Sure, you have the annoying tendency to argue and you always need to be right but he hated that; hated that someone you liked would dare say such crude things about you like you were just another notch on his bedpost.
You lift your eyes to look at Chan, barely even realising that he’s in nothing but his favourite baggy shorts with his hair still damp from the shower. You notice that his eyes have grown darker, something you’ve learnt means that he’s growing angry, that the beast inside is coming out – this you learned that hard way when you said something that caused him to snap harsher than he ever had before. There’s tension in his jaw as he grinds his teeth together and with every other breath, he lets out a low growl which has you reaching out to touch his forearm, keeping him from breaking your phone in his tight grip.
“What I’m doing with her phone is none of your business, mate.” He speaks slowly, clearly trying to keep his voice calm and level while his nostrils flare and when you touch his arm, his eyes go from boring a hole in the wall to looking at you and returning to their usual soft brown. “No, I’m not going to let you explain anything to her. No, you’re not going to try and explain it to me either. I don’t care,” another growl escapes him and he shakes his head at you as you look a little worried. He’s okay, he’s in control. “You made her cry, you’re lucky that taking care of her is more important than coming and ripping you apart.”
The question that gets thrown at him has his eyes widening slightly before he recovers. “Why do you care so much? Do you like her or something?”
“You ask a lot of questions for something who has exactly twenty-four hours before they become a missing persons report.” Your eyes widen and you grip Chan’s arm but he just waves off your worry – he wouldn’t… this time.
As the conversation comes to a close, Chan hangs up the phone and places it down carefully because if he didn’t, he may have thrown it. “Chan-”
“You need to have a shower.” His words take you by surprise, especially because he isn’t actually looking at you when he says it and after he does, he stands up, grabbing you by the hand and tugging you to the bathroom.
“Ch-chan,” you try and pull out of his hold but he shakes his head.
“It’s annoying knowing that this is why you’re crying,” he grumbles, only letting you go when you’re in the bathroom. Heading over to the shower, he adjusts the head and temperature before turning it on and you just stand there in your oversized hoodie, looking both confused and annoyed with puffy eyes and a snotty nose. “You know you deserve better than how he treated you, you weren’t even dating and he treated you like you were nothing more than a prize.” Chan stands there, still not looking at you as he has his hand in the water, waiting for it to warm up.
“How do you know what I deserve?” You venomously spit out. You don’t really mean to sound so bitchy but he went from being worried about you because he thought you were crying about your mother to being grumpy basically saying your taste in men is shit in a matter of moments.
He scoffs, looking at you finally as he opens his mouth to speak but whatever he wanted to say seems to be taken away by the water being at an appropriate temperature and that being more important. “Take your time.” Looking away from you again, Chan heads to the door but you manage to stop him by standing in front of his escape. “What?” He snaps at you, dark eyes meeting your bloodshot ones.
“Answer my question.” You demand.
Chan shakes his head, “nah.”
God, he’s so frustrating. “If you’re going to be an asshole to me after snapping at a guy for treating me like shit, you should at least answer my question since you’re being as bad as he is.”
You wait for his reaction, the one where he bites back and yells and snaps at you but instead Chan sighs and moves you out of the way. “Because,” he starts to head out of the bathroom before pausing just outside the door, “it’s how I’ve been treating you for the past month or so.” With those words hitting you like a tonne of bricks, he leaves you standing there feeling more confused than you have ever been in your life.
Chan never said anything more about that day, when you got out of the shower, he was on the couch watching television and when he did speak to you, it was always light and casual – like nothing had happened. Yet, you couldn’t just pretend like everything was the same as it was before. You couldn’t stop thinking about what he said, stop noticing the little things he did for you – things he had always done for you. When did Chan start doing these things? You honestly cannot remember. You just know that one day, you came home to your favourite chocolate always being in the fridge or how he would make you a cup of coffee every time he made himself one; you noticed that he would make more than enough food for you whenever he cooked lunch and that you had things to take in your bag when you went to campus.
You don’t remember when it all happened but you appreciated it all.
Chan always made sure you ate proper meals, he sat through your favourite shows and movies, he never complained when you stole his hoodies at night, nor did he care whenever you feel asleep watching shows with him. Ever since Chan pointed out the way that he treated you, ever since he pointed out that this was how he thought you deserved to be treated, you started to wonder about other things.
At first, you two argued about everything and those arguments would get pretty heated but those arguments slowly turned into friendly teasing because you both knew how to push each other’s buttons to get a reaction. He never used to engage with you whenever you asked questions, choosing to ignore you to play on his phone or begrudgingly follow you around because he had to, but eventually he started to open up, tell you about his life and the things he’s seen as well as seeming excited to go to with you whenever you went to meet your friends. Sometimes, he would look at you and scoff, judge your hair or make-up while making a comment about how you were dressed but after a while, he would give compliments, choose matching accessories for you and you would always catch him looking at you whenever you were out and about.
Somehow, Chan went from being the biggest pain in your ass to someone you confided in about everything.
“You’re staring at me again.” Chan says with a twitch of the corner of his lip.
You blush softly, quickly looking away. “Sorry,” you mumble as you pay attention to the movie playing, one that you can’t even recall beginning. While Chan may act like nothing happened, you couldn’t and managed to make it completely obvious that you’ve spent the better half of the past week obsessing over whether there is something between the two of you.
His eyes glance over in your direction, a small chuckle passing through his nose as he stretches his arm over the back of the couch. “Why are you so far away?” He says, indicating with his head for you to come closer. “I don’t bite… unless you want me to.”
You throw a pillow at him, “why do you need to be like that?” You whine while he laughs and manages to dodge the pillow.
“Be like what?”
“A flirt,” you say with an accusatory tone which has him laughing even more. “Why are you laughing? God, I hate you!” You don’t really, he’s just frustrating the living shit out of you.
Chan shrugs, “it’s fun seeing you overanalyse it all.” You throw another pillow which he catches, “all I basically told you is that I know how you deserve to be treated because I treat you better than he ever did and you’ve been on edge all week. It almost looks like you’ve got a crush on me.” While he acts like this is all a big joke to him, Chan does hope that there is a small glimmer of feelings towards him. He didn’t know when it happened for himself, he just remembers finding you passed out at the table one night after you had been studying for an exam and realising that somewhere amongst all the teasing and late-night talks about his life, he had fallen for you.
Unexpectedly.
“You are so infuriating.” You fold your arms and huff, glaring at the actors onscreen.
Moving closer to you, Chan leans in wearing a shit eating grin, “you didn’t deny it.”
“Deny what?” You look at him, narrowing your eyes.
“That you have a crush on me.”
“I don’t.” This makes his grin wider and you shove him away. “I don’t!”
With a loud laugh, he grabs your wrist and shakes his head, “me thinks the lady protests too much.” You make a noise in surprise to Chan pulling you closer, the action causing you to be nose to nose with barely any room between you. “I can hear your heart getting faster, are you nervous?”
Nope, maybe you do hate him. “Why are you doing this?”
“Doing what?” He lowers his voice and you feel his breath against your lips, he’s so close and yet, he’s choosing to tease you instead.
“This. If you are so sure of how I feel then why are you trying to drag it out of me?” Your own voice lowers to match his, so quiet and soft as you meet his eyes and hold his gaze, your heart beating faster in your chest.
He doesn’t answer you straight away. Chan remains silent for a brief moment as he searches your eyes, checking to make sure he’s not reading too much into this. “Because if I’m wrong then kissing you could end very badly for me.” You swear you felt his soft, velvet lips brush against yours but maybe the thought of kissing him created the illusion that they did. “So, do you, have a crush on me?”
Ba-dump. You look at him, mind racing with how this could go. It could go both ways so do you want to take that risk?
Ba-dump. You try and swallow, realising your mouth is suddenly dry which makes you hyperaware that your palms are sweaty. Why are you so damn nervous?
Ba-dump. Your head moves on its own, nodding, but before you even manage to finish the movement, Chan’s lips are on yours.
Clothes lay haphazard on the floor, fingers become tangled in dark locks, breathy moans drawn out as soft lips brush over sensitive skin. One kiss had become two which soon turned into Chan slowly undressing you while your hands tried desperately to rid him of his clothes. His hands take their time to map out your body, learning and appreciating every dip and curve while you pull him closer, needing his bare skin against yours.
Chan is patient, savouring the taste of you, while you are eager, hungry, needy.
“I’m not going anywhere,” he whispers against flushed skin, fingers ghosting over your core as his hot breath indicates how close he is to where you want him except instead of giving you what you want, he drags this out and drives you crazy. “Just relax.”
Your fingers tug on his hair, a low whine escaping you as the anticipation makes you grow wetter by the second, “stop teasing me.” He chuckles, that’s what he does, doesn’t he? It’s what he’s always done, drove you crazy, frustrated the fuck out of you and teased you, why should now be any different? “I hate you.”
Cocking an eyebrow, Chan looks up at you, a smirk on his lips as he tries to move away but your grip keeps him from doing so. “Then should I stop? If you hate me so much, maybe I shouldn’t give you what you want?”
“Chan~” You whine out his name as you desperately keep him from moving and he can’t help the low groan that passes through his lips at the way you sound. An angel singing out his name like that should be illegal but fuck, he’ll do it again as long as it’s you.
You gasp, two fingers gliding through your velvet walls as Chan slowly pushes in until he’s knuckles deep. He needs to make sure you are nice and stretched out, that you take him easily because he doesn’t want it to hurt, it shouldn’t hurt; he wants this to be perfect, to give you pleasure as he claims you as his. Curling his fingers, he brushes against your sweet spot as his lips attached to your erect clit peeking out from under the hood. Your walls clench around his fingers, your slick coating them as they move inside while his tongue flicks, eliciting heavenly sounds from you; he could do this all night, lay between your legs and play with your dripping cunt.
Oh, how pretty you would look all messy and fucked out from nothing more than him eating you out and fucking you with his fingers.
“Sing for me, princess.” He says, his low tone sending delicious sensations down your spine, “I want to hear every sound, every curse, everything. Don’t hold back~” His fingers begin pumping in and out, nice and slow as he runs the flat of his tongue between your folds, sucking sloppily on your clit. The louder you get, the faster he moves, his own deep groans vibrating against your core as he eats you out messily, making your juices drip out of you mixed with his saliva and he doesn’t stop as you are brought over the edge into the sweet abyss below, prolonging the climax for as long as he possibly can.
With your mind foggy from the orgasm, Chan licks you clean, humming softly while you let out heavy pants as you try to calm down your racing heart. You look down at him, blushing deeply as you watch him like his fingers clean before running the back of his hand against his mouth. The sight of him like that has you shivering slightly but nothing is quite as breath taking to him as you.
“How are you feeling?” He slowly kisses his way back up your body, hovering over you so he doesn’t put too much weight on you. You let out a pleased hum but that’s not good enough for him, “I need words, princess. I want to make sure you’re doing okay; you can just tell me if it’s too much and we can continue another time.” You stare at him in pure adoration in that moment, falling deeper for him than you ever thought possible.
“I’m okay,” you confirm, wrapping your arms around his neck and pulling him in close for a kiss, tasting yourself on his lips. “I’m better than okay, really.” He hums before giving you a quick peck and pulling away, climbing off you and lifting you into his arms before carrying you to the bedroom.
Tomorrow you’ll wake up in his arms, the evidence of tonight painted on your skin by way of his lips and fingertips but right now, you’ll revel in the love that you found in the only person who has filled that void in your heart by giving you his own.
#ksmutclub#straykidsland#bangchan fic#bangchan scenario#bangchan smut#stray kids smut#stray kids scenario#cerberus!au#bangchan x reader#bang chan scenario#iridescentxstars ©#scenario ; bangchan#g ; smut#g ; fluff#cerberus ; bangchan#group ; skz#au ; greek mythology
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Big Bang Editing Story [Day 98]
I started writing this fic while editing my Big Bang story, but am going to continue doing it for other things now that Kill Dear is out. I will write and publish 100 words of the story every time I finish doing whatever task I’m doing. If you’d like to block these proceedings, please feel free to block the tag proofread stories. I will reblog this post with the parts of the story I do today. Edited chapters are linked; everything else I’ve done so far is under the cut.
My Master Post Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 Part 5 Part 6 Part 7 Part 8 Part 9 Part 10 Part 11 Part 12 Part 13 Part 14 Part 15 Part 16 Part 17 Part 18 Part 19 Part 20 Part 21 Part 22 Part 23 Part 24 Part 25 Part 26 Part 27 Part 28 Part 29 Part 30 Part 31 Part 32 Part 33 Part 34 Part 35 Part 36 Part 37 Part 38 Part 39 Part 40 Part 41 Part 42 Part 43 Part 44 Part 45
Hey! Guess who’s actually using this to edit again! We’ve actually come full circle since I’m participating in the Big Bang this year and will be using this to proofread that. Today I’m proof reading the Labeled Sequel though. :)
Also, my internet’s been meh today so if I disappear... you know why.
Chapter 46 (Patton)
Patton hadn’t been aware until Virgil came along what exactly Mr. Deknis did in the winter. Most of his staff had gone home or had winter tasks unrelated to gardening to do, but Mr. Deknis and a few choice members of his staff still apparently did a lot despite not being able to plant anything.
He frequently invited Virgil to join in on these tasks, and Virgil often accepted. Patton wasn’t sure why he seemed to enjoy things like deep cleaning gardening tools and checking over equipment, but he did, so Patton was glad.
“Alright, that’s enough of that for today,” Mr. Deknis said once Virgil finished brushing off the paste that had been applied to remove rust from a hoe.
“Are you sure?” Virgil asked. “I have more time to work. Even if you need to go, I can still work on something. Unless you don’t want me messing with things without supervision…”
“I’m not telling you to leave, Virgil,” Mr. Deknis said with a half-smile. “I just thought you might want to help me out with something else today.”
“Oh, okay. Sure,” Virgil agreed, sounding just a touch excited.
“Let’s put all of this away,” Mr. Deknis said.
Virgil and Patton helped him put things away, though Patton felt more like a hindrance as both Mr. Deknis and Virgil seemed to know exactly where everything in the room went whereas Patton wasn’t sure about some things.
Patton didn’t always come with Virgil when he was helping Mr. Deknis. Sometimes Logan would come instead, and Virgil had been coming alone with increasing frequency over the last month or so.
He seemed to like it. He always seemed to look forward to spending time with Mr. Deknis and not only because Mr. Deknis often bribed him with snacks of dried or pickled fruits and vegetables.
Once the tools and cleaning equipment were stored away, Mr. Deknis led them down the hall. Mr. Deknis had an entire hall to himself on the first floor of the castle which included his bedroom as well as places to dry and can things.
Where he was leading them now was a small study next to his bedroom. Patton had never been there before and by the way Virgil was curiously looking around, neither had he. It was a cute little area with a small desk and a bookshelf full of books that seemed to all be on plants.
“I’m starting to think about what I want to grow in the gardens next year,” Mr. Deknis explained as they crammed into the small office. He pointed to a large piece of paper on his desk. “This is the plan at the moment, though it’s nowhere near finalized.”
He pointed at an empty square sketched on the large paper. “I was thinking I wanted to plant something new here, but I don’t know what. It’s just a small patch between the vegetable and flower garden. It’s sort of by the one three teared fountain. I usually use that patch for newer plants, so it could be a vegetable or a flower. I was thinking you could help me pick out something to put there.”
Virgil looked up at him, eyes wide.
Mr. Deknis smiled at him. “Would you like to?”
“I…” Virgil said. “I wouldn’t have any idea what to put.”
“Well, I have a few different books of plants you can flip through,” he said. “Any idea what kind of plant you’d like to grow?”
Virgil shrugged.
“I’ll just give you a few for now,” Mr. Deknis said, selecting three different books. “If you can’t find anything you like, just let me know and I’ll give you another book. There are plenty of different types of things to grow. This is just a start.”
“Thank you,” Virgil said, eyes staring down at the field of flowers drawn on the cover of the book on the top of the stack in his arms.
They spent the afternoon on the floor of Mr. Deknis’ living room. The gardener made them some lavender tea and let them eat some candied walnuts and then retreated to an armchair to read his own book about plants.
Patton and Virgil laid on the floor flipping through the different books. Virgil still wasn’t very good at reading, so Patton would read the descriptions of the plants that caught his eye to him. One of the books was about different vegetables and one was about herbs, which of course, did catch Virgil’s attention a bit because of his love for edible things. Yet the pictures of flowers seemed to interest him the most.
They ended up eventually looking only in the flower book. A while after that, it became clear that he preferred flowers in the orchid family verses composite flowers because he liked the shape of their petals better. So, then they focused more on looking at the different types of orchids that existed.
“There are a lot more types of orchids than I knew there were,” Patton said.
“It’s the second largest family of flowers,” Mr. Deknis told them from his chair. “There’s a lot of different kinds, over 28,000 species at least. Vanilla comes from an orchid plant. If there are none in that book you especially want, I could get a book specifically on orchids.”
Virgil, having already flipped through the book multiple times looking at the orchids in it, looked up at him with a bit of excitement in his eyes. “I would like that,” he said. “Yes, please.”
Mr. Deknis’ eyes softened on him, and he got to his feet. “I’ll go see what I have in the office.”
“Getting to grow something in the garden is exciting,” Patton said once Mr. Deknis left.
“Yeah,” Virgil agreed. “It is.”
It was very nice of Mr. Deknis too, Patton thought. He didn’t have to offer to let Virgil plant something, in fact, him happening to have an empty patch in his plans was probably a little bit of a fib, but it was a nice one.
Virgil liked plants, and it would give him something to look forward to over the winter and then something to do in the spring and summer. Honestly, Patton couldn’t wait to see him experience the castle in the spring. He’d already loved it in the fall, let alone when things started to grow. Patton had a feeling he’d be spending a lot more time outside this summer.
Mr. Deknis came back with a good-sized book filled with pictures of flowers. “Why don’t you take this with you for tonight,” he suggested. “It’s almost dinner time. We can talk about it more when you come to help me again on Saturday.”
“Thank you,” Virgil said, taking the book. “I will see you Saturday then.”
“See you Saturday, Virgil,” he said with a smile.
Chapter 47 (Logan)
Logan and Virgil had gotten into the habit of having reading lessons in the afternoons 3 times a week. They would sit in the small library near the royal wing for an hour or two and do different things related to increasing Virgil’s literacy.
Logan had started with just teaching him letters, but he’d memorized those long ago at this point. Now, Logan would spend most of the time having him read simpler books out loud and correcting any mistakes he made along the way. Improvement was surprisingly fast, though in truth, Logan hadn’t had any measure for how long it would take a teenager to learn to read and Virgil was quite dedicated.
Usually, their lessons ended with Logan reading a more complicated book while letting him follow along. The last week, they had been reading the library book Virgil had chosen for himself, Into the Mist. It was an interesting book to read to Virgil, though Logan was unsure if it would be as interesting if he were to read it on his own. In truth, it was a good, but rather ordinary fantasy book. Virgil, however, seemed incredibly fascinated by it. He had never heard a high fantasy story before in his life and he was constantly comparing and contrasting things in the book to things he understood in real life as well as asking Logan about them.
It also became clear that Virgil did not quite understand real life fully. He attributed the same amount of awe to hearing the ocean being described as he did to the main character’s climb up the sky to a cloud city in hopes of saving his love interest’s life. In fact, he seemed more in awe of Logan’s explanation of the ocean since it actually existed.
Logan had a sudden intense urge to plan a trip to see an ocean at some point in the future. Lamir was a costal country and its castle sat on top of a cliff that overlooked the sea. It would be easy enough to take a trip to their ally’s country at some point.
“So, cloud mites don’t exist?” Virgil confirmed yet again.
“No,” Logan said. “They don’t. In fact, their existence would go against all magical laws since they are sentient without being alive.”
“But crabs do?” Virgil asked.
“Yes.”
“How?”
“Crabs do not go against the natural order of things,” Logan said.
“But why?” Virgil asked.
“I… don’t understand the question.”
“They don’t have the right number of legs.”
“W-what do you mean by that?” Logan asked, confused.
“Animals can only have an even number of legs on either side.”
“No,” Logan said. Virgil nodded vigorously. “What about beetles? Those have 6 legs. Three on each side.”
“But beetles are bug,” Virgil pointed out.
“Bugs are animals,” Logan argued.
“No, they’re not.”
His face was so serious, and he was so sure, that it was funny. “Bugs are animals,” Logan said.
Virgil seemed confused by this. “But they have 6 legs.”
Logan couldn’t help but laugh at that. “Virgil, what do you think and animal is?”
“Well, I don’t know,” Virgil said, pouting slightly at being laughed at. Logan leaned over to bump their shoulder together which seemed to pacify him. “Cows. Birds. Frogs.”
“I think we need to get you a tutor. You are missing some fundamental building blocks in your education.”
He huffed, peering at the book.
“It’s no fault of your own,” Logan assured. “You are not born with information like that. People were just negligent in teaching you these things.”
Virgil nodded. “That actually reminds me of something.”
“Mmm?” Logan asked.
“There’s something I need to teach you.”
“And what would that be?” Logan asked.
“Survival instincts.”
“What?”
Virgil slammed his hand down on Logan’s desk. “You have no survival instincts,” he declared. “I bet you don’t even know what hemlock tastes like.”
“Isn’t that poisonous.”
“Yes,” Virgil said.
“Then of course I don’t know what it tastes like.”
“Exactly! That’s the problem.”
“I don’t need to know what poison tastes like, Virgil,” Logan said.
“Yes, you do,” Virgil argued. “It’s an important skill.”
“I think your view of what constitutes as an ‘important skill’ may be skewed,” Logan said.
“You’re a prince,” Virgil said. “Knowing about poisons is an important skill for you.”
“It’s really not though.”
“You’re at war,” Virgil reminded, “and they already tried to assassinate your father. Do you think they’re not going to send someone else when your father is alive at winter’s end, and they’ve heard no word from their assassin? Do you think if they realize you’re not easily manipulatable, they won’t come for you too?”
“Well, I mean…” Logan said. “You do have a point there.”
“And you need to learn how to climb things and catch things.”
“Why do I need to know how to catch things?”
“We’ve already had this discussion,” Virgil said. “In case someone throws a knife at you.”
Wait. When had they had that conversation?
“And while we’re on the topic of knives, you need to know how to use a knife effectively.”
“I know how to use a knife,” Logan claimed even though he knew he didn’t know how to use a knife in the way Virgil was talking about.
Virgil, despite having no concept of taxonomic classification, was no fool. “Chopping things for potions doesn’t count,” Virgil said. “I’m talking stabbing lessons. For you and Patton, though to be honest, Patton has an advantage already over you when it comes to using weapons.”
“Why does he…” Logan thought. “Because he managed to get a hit on you with a cookie sheet one time?”
“His reflexes are better,” Virgil said, “as well as his ability to use his environment to his advantage. You’re always completely oblivious about what’s going on around you.”
“Excuse me. I am incredibly observant,” said Logan.
“How many chairs are in the dinning room we walked through to get here two hours ago?” Virgil asked.
Logan thought for a moment. “I’m not sure.”
“Exactly! You walk by them every day and you don’t even know how many chairs there are in that room.”
“I have no idea what that has to do with anything.”
“How would you know if someone tampered with the chairs if you don’t know how many of them there are or their positions.”
“Tampered with the chairs?” Logan asked. “What are you talking about? I filter out unnecessary information. That doesn’t mean I’m unobservant.”
“Yes, it does,” Virgil said. “Plus, half the time you don’t even know where I am when you know I’m in the same room as you,” Virgil said.
“Well, that’s because you climb on top of things and hide in walls!” Logan said. “That’s hardly fair.”
“You mean I’m quiet and good at hiding like… an assassin might be.”
Logan pursed his lips. Virgil tilted his head and smiled at him. “I am plenty observant,” Logan insisted once again.
“Prove it,” Virgil said.
“And how should I do that?” Logan asked. “Beyond simply memorizing the furniture arrangements?”
Virgil shrugged. “I’m sure you’ll get an opportunity soon.”
Logan wished he would have been observant enough in that moment to notice the determined spark in his eyes.
Chapter 48 (Thomas)
Thomas was leaving his office when he ran into his son. Or more accurately, his son almost ran into him. “Is everything alright?” Thomas asked.
“I…” Logan said. His hand came out to grasp Thomas’s shirt sleeve, odd behavior for him at least at this age. He used to do such things when he was very small. “Yes,” he said anyway. “Everything is perfectly fine.” He glanced behind himself down the hall.
Thomas looked at him and then looked down the hallway, concerned by his strange behavior. “Are you sure?” he asked.
“Yes,” Logan said, but he wasn’t letting go of Thomas’s shirt.
“You seem a bit anxious, Logan,” Thomas said.
“I am not,” Logan denied, releasing his shirt. Thomas caught a glimpse of something moving above their heads. The hallway Thomas’s office was in had large pillars along the outer wall that really no one should be able to scale despite there technically being grooves in them. Yet, there Virgil clung to the chapiter of one of them. Even more bewildering, he was gripping a pouch of some kind in his teeth.
They met eyes briefly. Virgil tilted his head at Thomas. Then, he removed one hand from the pillar. How was he up there? He made a motion with his hand that seemed to be telling Thomas to step back.
Thomas looked back at his son. Logan hadn’t noticed Virgil, too busy glancing behind him and not looking up. Thomas looked back up at Virgil and took a big step back. The moment he did, Virgil grabbed the bottom of the pouch with his free hand and let go with his teeth. The pouch flipped upside down dropping its contents right onto Logan’s head.
Logan gave a high-pitched shriek that Thomas didn’t think he’d ever heard from him before. “Virgil!” he yelled, now absolutely soaked.
“Learn to look up,” Virgil said seriously, still clinging to the pillar.
“I hate you,” Logan replied.
“Don’t say things you don’t mean in anger,” Thomas reminded. He was a bit worried Virgil may overreact to Logan saying things like that to him, though he seemed perfectly calm at the moment.
Logan scowled at Thomas. “You’re on his side?! He just dumped water on my head!”
“He needs to be trained to be more observant!” Virgil said.
Logan turned his scowl to Virgil. “Come down here, you intolerable creature! I’m done with your so-called training!”
“And what would you do if I did come down?” Virgil asked while arching an eyebrow, wholly unconcerned. “Quote facts about animals at me?”
Thomas was unsure what about that comment angered Logan, but it apparently did.
“You little…”
“Boys,” Thomas interrupted. “What’s going on here?”
They both immediately started speaking at once, doing their best to talk over each other. Thomas didn’t catch much of either rants except something about ‘training’ and Virgil ‘stalking the halls’ and an “exploding muffin.”
“Okay, okay,” Thomas said, putting a hand up to tell both of them to be quiet. “One at a time. Virgil first.”
“Really?” Logan asked.
“Logan,” Thomas scolded.
He mumbled something under his breath, but he did quiet down.
“Virgil,” Thomas started again. “What’s going on?”
“I’m training him,” Virgil said.
“Training him?” Thomas asked. “Training him for what?”
“For life,” Virgil answered. “He isn’t observant enough.”
“Ah,” Thomas said, still fairly confused. “And how are you training him?”
“Right now, we’re doing situational awareness training,” Virgil said.
“And how does that translate to you dumping water on his head?” Thomas asked.
“He wouldn’t have gotten water on his head if he’d noticed me,” Virgil answered, seriously. Thomas tried not to laugh at the look on his face.
“That is, perhaps true,” Thomas said. “However, dumping water on people’s heads is not nice. Perhaps there is a nicer way to do this training?”
“People trying to kill them won’t be nice,” Virgil said.
“No one is trying to kill Logan,” Thomas said.
Virgil just pursed his lips. “Maybe,” Virgil said. “Not yet.”
Thomas was unsure where this fear had come from. Perhaps he had heard about the successful assassination of Lamir’s late queen. Thomas hadn’t exactly publicized the fact that the queen had been killed and not simply died when he’d returned, but he had told certain people including Logan and Patton. It was possible one of them had let it slip and Virgil had freaked out about it.
“Well,” Thomas said. “It still isn’t nice to ruin someone’s day over a threat that doesn’t exist yet.”
Virgil just huffed at him. He was being surprisingly petulant which actually made Thomas smile just a tad. He’d not even been able to imagine this side of him a month ago. “Why don’t you come down here?” Thomas suggested. “We can talk through the issue and come to a compromise.”
Virgil stared down at him with skeptical eyes.
“Perhaps with tea and cookies?” Thomas suggested.
Virgil tilted his head and slid down the pillar until his feet touched the floor. “What kind of cookies?” he asked.
“We’ll have to see what Helen has made lately,” Thomas said. He turned to Logan and frowned. “You should probably change before you get sick being wet and in the cold.”
Logan nodded and shivered a little bit while rubbing his own arms. Despite the castle being warm, it was no fun to be completely soaked during the winter. Thomas wasn’t even sure if Virgil would have thought to not use freezing cold water. Even with heating elements, the water in the castle could be very cold if you didn’t wait for a bit for it to warm up. Thomas didn’t think Virgil would have thought too far ahead in this ‘training.’
“I’ll take Virgil down to the kitchen and get some tea and cookies for all of us,” Thomas told Logan.
He gave his son a look trying to communicate ‘I’ll talk to him.’ Logan pursed his lips, but nodded, seeming to receive the message.
“Why don’t we meet you in the royal dining room, so the conversation is more private?” Thomas suggested. It would be a much calmer environment than the main dining hall or the kitchens.
“Sure,” Logan agreed, turning to walk off in the direction of the royal wing. The poor thing was huddled in on himself and cold.
Thomas looked over at Virgil and smiled at him softly as Logan left. “Let’s go see what cookies Helen has ready,” he suggested.
Chapter 49 (Virgil)
“So,” King Thomas said as they walked through the halls towards the kitchens. The path to the kitchens from pretty much anywhere in the castle was familiar to Virgil now. Food was abundant in this place and there were no restrictions on Virgil eating it. There were no restrictions on anyone in the castle eating it, unless you counted Patton’s mother insisting people eat a more varied diet than only cookies. Personally, while Virgil did like cookies, he had no complaints over that matter. “You and Logan seem to be having a disagreement,” Thomas continued.
“I’m right,” Virgil insisted, and he was.
However, explaining why Virgil was right to the king was a bit difficult when Virgil was hiding why he knew Logan developing survival instincts was important. It was clear that Virgil did not get his point across correctly because the king laughed slightly.
“Everyone believes they are right during a disagreement,” Thomas said. “I’m sure Logan has his own ideas about who is correct.”
Virgil frowned at him. “I am.”
“Perhaps you are both right,” the king suggested.
“But…”
“You cannot dump water on people’s heads in the castle hallways, Virgil,” the king scolded, but it was a gentle scolding and Virgil forced himself to not climb the wall and disappear. He had a point to make. “Especially not in the winter.”
“He’s the prince,” Virgil argued. “He needs to know how to protect himself in case of danger.”
“That is true,” Thomas conceded. “You are probably correct that we should be making sure the royal family is well protected and can protect themselves. We have been safe for a long time, but there is always a risk.” He seemed contemplative for a moment. “However,” he continued. “The way you are going about it is not correct in my opinion. Clearly, it is not in Logan’s opinion as well.”
“But…”
“You risk making more problems than solving with your strategy,” the king said.
“Like what?” Virgil asked.
“Well,” Thomas said. “Getting someone wet when it’s cold is never a good idea even inside a castle.” Virgil… could agree with that. “You also could accidently ruin something important by getting water on it if you don’t give warning. Even if you are doing something besides pouring water on his head, if you continue to do things to ‘train’ Logan in the same vein, he is likely to become more paranoid than vigilant.”
“What’s the difference?” Virgil asked.
“Being vigilant means you are prepared for danger around every corner. Being paranoid means you are expecting danger around every corner.”
“There doesn’t seem like there’s much of a difference,” Virgil said.
“There is,” said the king, as they pushed through a set of double doors. “Take any of the royal guards,” he gestured subtly at the two people guarding the room to the hall they’d just come from. “If a guard is constantly worried that every little sound is a danger and every new person is an enemy, they will waste all of their energy and time chasing down stray rodents and interrogating maids that decided to walk a different path to their destinations. When real danger does appear, they may be too worn out or distracted to react.”
“However, if the guards are calm and instead of instantly overreacting to every small thing, they make a note of it in case it ends up being something they need to react to later, then they will be prepared to act if there are any actual threats.”
Virgil bit his tongue to stop from mentioning that he’d managed to sneak by the guards to the royal wing the first night he was here. A boy with a cookie sheet had done more against him that King Thomas’s guards.
“That’s why I make sure everyone who works for the castle, especially the guards have not only time off to sleep and eat, but time off for leisure where they are not expected to be hypervigilant.”
“All people need to have a time and place to feel safe, even the ones whose jobs it is to keep others safe. Logan’s job is not the same as the guards who keep the people in this castle physically safe, but he is training to be king. He needs time to perform his duties and to relax between them. Harassing him all day with survival training is not going to help him.”
“People don’t need to feel safe,” Virgil argued. “They need to be safe.”
The king stopped walking and turned to him. Virgil couldn’t help but cringe a bit as the king studied him.
“You haven’t had a chance to feel safe very often in your life, have you?” the king asked.
Virgil shrugged, looking away.
“What would make you feel safe?” Thomas asked.
“Logan being safe,” Virgil said.
“Logan is safe, Virgil,” the king tried to argue.
Virgil scowled. “I don’t trust your guards. Even the best guard won’t be able to help if Logan gets trapped alone with someone. He needs to learn self-defense.”
“Well, I’m already planning to up security in the castle when spring comes. Would me asking if he’d be willing to do self-defense training with someone help?”
He thought about it for a few moments. “Maybe,” he said, lips pursed, “but what if the person you get to teach him isn’t any good at it?” Honestly, Virgil wasn’t sure if he could trust anyone in this entire kingdom to do proper training.
Then again… Prijaznia had been holding its own against Mocnejsi for… Virgil didn’t actually know how long. He just knew that he’d always remembered there being a war going on between them for his entire life. And… while no one had ever actually said it out loud, Prijaznia was probably winning. It’s why Mocnejsi was going for things like assassinations and tricks instead of normal warfare.
Not to mention Prijaznia was less… war torn. Sure, he’d been living in the castle recently, but even in his travel to the castle, people seemed to be a bit better off.
So, maybe there were some people in the kingdom who knew what they were doing when fighting. However, Virgil wasn’t going to trust the king to pick out who should train Logan.
“I’m sure we can find someone who is up to your standards,” the king said, though the curl to his lip seemed to indicate he wasn’t taking Virgil seriously. Of course, as far as he knew, Virgil was just a random kid his friend had befriended, so that was probably fair.
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It was a bit frustrating to not be able to tell Logan’s dad why Virgil was worried or how he knew how to help, but Virgil wouldn’t dare give him even the slightest hint of the truth. He respected the king. He was starting to like the king. Yet, Virgil was not a fool.
The king obviously misinterpreted the disgruntled expression on his face. “Maybe you can also do some of your training,” he said, “but there has to be compromise. You and Logan need to talk about it without fighting before anything goes any further. I can mediate. We’ll talk about what things might be okay and what things are off limits.”
“Okay,” Virgil said, still not happy, but knowing there wasn’t much else he could do.
“Okay,” the king agreed. They were now at the door to the kitchens “Now, let’s get those cookies.”
Chapter 50 (Patton)
Patton was starting to get excited. There had been a small snow storm a couple of weeks before, but since then, the temperature had been on the rise with no sign of more snow on the horizon. It was still a bit chilly, but Patton only really felt the need for a light coat instead of any more extreme winter wear. It was great!
Usually everyone including Patton was relieved as Winter turned to Spring, but this year, Patton had even more of a reason to be happy about it. Virgil had gotten a tiny bit more comfortable going outside over the winter, but he still didn’t like it too much.
Patton could almost feel the change in him as the warmer months drew nearer like a flower getting ready to bloom. He was happier and more energetic. Mr. Deknis was getting things ready to start planting as soon as his seasonal workers started to arrive in the coming weeks. In the meantime, Virgil helped him get ready with a lot of enthusiasm.
It was probably the warmest it had been today. It wasn’t nearly summer, but Patton wouldn’t call it cold. So, while Logan was off doing princely duties in the afternoon, Patton decided to test if it was warm enough now for Virgil to willingly go outside.
Patton found Virgil in Mr. Deknis’s rooms a couple of hours after lunch, figuring he’d be done with whatever task they were doing that day by then. Patton ended up being correct as when Mr. Deknis let him into his living room, Virgil was busy flipping through yet another book of orchids, still trying to decide which he wanted to grow.
“Hi, Virgil,” Patton said, walking into the room with Princess Marisol on his heels. She had been lazing in a sunny spot by a nearby window but had gotten up to follow him as he walked by.
“Hi,” Virgil replied. He closed the book and set it aside.
“I was wondering if you wanted to go to the dovecote with me,” Patton said. “I wanted to send a letter.”
Virgil thought about it for a moment, and Patton would swear he was using some secret weather sensing mechanism in his head to check the weather before saying, “Okay.”
“If you two are going to the dovecote, would you mind taking a letter for me as well?” Mr. Deknis asked.
“Of course,” Patton agreed.
Mr. Deknis turned to grab a sealed letter off his desk. “It’s for my daughter,” Mr. Deknis said. “The handlers should know the right pigeon to give it to.”
Patton nodded and took it.
“You have a daughter?” Virgil asked, sounding more surprised than Patton would have expected.
“Yes, Darlene,” Mr. Deknis said. “I’ve talked about her. I thought I’d mentioned she was my daughter.”
“I didn’t know you could have children.”
The statement clearly rang with truth to Mr. Deknis’s ears, but it didn’t make him look any less confused. “Why would you think that?” he asked.
Patton’s eyes widened as he recalled a conversation from months ago where Virgil had been confused about why Mr. Deknis was allowed to be a gardener when he was a multrum. Patton didn’t know much about how multrums were treated in Mocnejsi, but it hadn’t sounded very nice and Patton could draw some conclusions about why Virgil thought that. The problem of course was that Patton was pretty sure very few people in Prijaznia would be confused about Mr. Deknis being allowed to have a kid.
“You’re old,” Patton blurted before Virgil could say anything more. “Old people can’t have kids.”
These things were not technically lies. Mr. Deknis still looked at him like he’d just sensed Patton saying one though. He frowned and his eyes narrowed a bit. Patton had… never been as good at running around Mr. Deknis’s powers as Logan was.
“Patton,” Mr. Deknis said. “What?”
“You have to forgive Virgil,” Patton said, grabbing Virgil’s arm and tugging on it. Luckily, Virgil followed easily enough. “I’m pretty sure he doesn’t even know how babies are made.”
“That isn’t an argument, Patton.”
“Anyway, we have to go,” Patton said.
Patton pulled Virgil out of Mr. Deknis’s living room and into the hallway. He slammed the door behind them. “Run,” said Patton to Virgil. They ran.
Luckily, Patton was right. Mr. Deknis was old and didn’t seem keen to chase them. However, Patton expected that the conversation was nowhere near over. This, even if it made their behavior even more suspicious, would give Patton time to think of something or, more realistically, talk to Logan and get him to think of something.
The ended up all the way outside the stable before the stopped. Virgil, while fast, was not a distance runner and Patton wasn’t exactly athletic, so they collapsed in an exhausted heap.
“Why did we run?” Virgil asked after a few minutes of rest.
“People from Prijaznia wouldn’t question why a multrum can have a child,” Patton said. “They’re just normal people with some powers. If we’re not careful, he could have figured out you weren’t from here.”
Virgil grimaced. “That’s not good,” he said.
“It’ll be alright,” Patton promised. “We just need to ask Logan what to say. He’s always better at talking circles around Mr. Deknis.”
“He’s in a meeting right now though.”
“Yeah,” Patton said, “but that just means we have to be sneaking for a couple of hours.”
Always one to make something fun out of a not so great situation, Patton glanced over at Virgil. “You’re pretty good at sneaking,” he said. “Why don’t you teach me something about sneaking by helping me sneak into the dovecote.”
“You want to do training?” Virgil asked.
Patton hesitated, having heard about ‘training’ from Logan. “Uh, only this type of training,” Patton said, “and only for this afternoon until we have a chance to talk to Logan.”
“The king told me I could train people if they gave me permission.”
Oh dear.
He seemed invigorated suddenly and popped to his feet even though Patton really would have rather rested for a bit more.
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Something that's been bugging me for years since the Legends finale. If Zhan had been the writer for Rebels, do you think he would have had Thrawn bomb Lothal to bring Ezra out? On the one hand, from Legends Thrawn's portrayal I imagine he would without a second of hesitation. On the other, Canon Thrawn has been much more... restrained? And on a third point, there's the fact that Legends and Canon Thrawn seem like they really could be the same person just at different points of time. cnt in next
...I'm just curious if anyone else was curious if Zhan agreed with that direction taken. Which, on that note, did Zhan ever say anything about his thoughts on how Rebels handled Thrawn? Both from a writing standpoint as well as an acting and musical one (Thrawn's various leitmotifs)?
Oh man. Ohhhhhhhh maaaaan. My friend, you have asked exactly the right person this question, because not only have I wanted to talk about this multiple times before, but I also have ~receipts~. 👀
⚠️Spoiler warnings for Star Wars: Rebels, The Mandalorian, the canon Star Wars novels Thrawn, Thrawn: Alliances, Thrawn: Treason, Thrawn Ascendency: Chaos Rising, and Thrawn Ascendency: Greater Good, and the legends Star Wars novels Heir to the Empire, Dark Force Rising, The Last Command, and Outbound Flight.⚠️
Oh man. Where to begin.
Lets start with who Thrawn is, because depending on who you ask, you're gonna get different answers—whether you're strictly a Legends fan, Dave Filoni, a guy who's only seen Thrawn in Star Wars: Rebels, Timothy Zahn, or just a writer/artist fan like me.
To Timothy Zahn, the man behind our favorite chiss, Thrawn is a character that is constant in both attitude and personality throughout all of his content. In multiple interviews, ranging from Thrawn's debut in Rebels to the latest about the writing of the Ascendancy Trilogy, Zahn states that Thrawn in canon and Thrawn in Legends are indistinguishable.
And so I present the receipts:
In a 2017 interview with The Verge on writing the first canon Thrawn book Thrawn, Zahn is asked the following question and responds as such:
How do you navigate bringing back a character who already has an extensive backstory and audience expectations, with telling a new story that fits in the new continuity?
Actually, I didn’t find that to be a problem. I’d never written Thrawn in this part of the Star Wars timeline, so it was simply a matter of bringing him into the Empire and chronicling his rise through the ranks. It’s still the same character as in the 1990s books, just a decade or two younger and in a very different military and political environment.
In another interview with The Verge in 2018 (a few months after the finale of Rebels aired) about writing Thrawn: Alliances, he repeats this sentiment twice:
Thrawn feels like if it had been written before the canonization purge a couple of years ago, or if you squinted a bit, it would serve as a perfect setup for Heir to the Empire.
Oh, I don’t think you need to squint at all. I wrote him in these two books to fit in with everything else I’d done. So if someone at Lucasfilm snapped their fingers, and suddenly all of my other books were canon, and there would be no real retrofitting that would have to go in. It would all fit together.
Thrawn: Alliances feels more at home in the new canon, especially because Thrawn has been fleshed out a bit more in Rebels. Was there any adjustments for that?
Not really. I’m getting to play with more canon characters like Vader and Padmé and Anakin, but the character himself, I still see him as the same person. He’s got goals, and he won’t necessarily share them with you, but he as long as you’re going the same direction, he’s happy to cooperate and assist along the way.
...and this is referenced again in a 2020 interview with Polygon about writing Thrawn Ascendancy: Chaos Rising:
Along with Thrawn’s appearance in Rebels, Zahn would pen a new novel, Thrawn, that chronicled the character’s early days as an Imperial officer. Zahn didn’t have to change anything with the character, telling me in 2017 that “he’s like an old friend who I understand completely.” While Heir to the Empire was no longer canon, a reader could easily read Thrawn as a precursor to that classic novel. Thrawn went on to become a major presence in Rebels, and Zahn continued to explore his origins in Thrawn: Alliances and Thrawn: Treason.
The next day, an interview with IGN was published on the same subject:
Thrawn is an especially unique case because Zahn has been able to effectively continue the work he started way back in 1991 with Heir to the Empire. That novel may not be a part of official Star Wars lore any longer, but as Zahn explained, Thrawn himself is basically the same character regardless of continuity.
[....] The closest comparison between Chaos Rising and Zahn's earlier EU work is probably 2006's Outbound Flight, which is set during the Clone Wars and details the first encounter between Thrawn and the Galactic Republic (while also retroactively laying the groundwork for elements of Heir to the Empire). That novel is no longer canon, but Zahn told us he prefers to operate as if it were. He's making a concerted effort not to retread the same ground as Outbound Flight and to avoid contradicting the events of that novel as much as possible.
So yeah. In Zahn's opinion, Legends Thrawn is Canon Thrawn is Book Thrawn, and there is no difference whatsoever between Thrawns in, say, Outbound Flight, Heir to The Empire, Alliances, and Chaos Rising. I wholeheartedly disagree, but lets move on.
Now that the books are out of the way, its time for Rebels.
In July of 2016, after the trailer announcing Thrawn's canon debut aired, Dave Filoni had the following to say about Thrawn's character in regards to Timothy Zahn:
“I was pretty adamant with a couple of people saying, ‘Listen, we need to have Tim sign off on this. This is kind of a waste of time [otherwise],'” says Filoni. “We, of course, can do what we want with a character that Lucasfilm owns, but without Tim’s okay, what does it mean? That’s not going to be good. Once we had some stuff, we wanted to do what we thought was right and make the character. Then we brought him in. We had the production fully prepared. I said, ‘Look, if there’s something that Tim says that I think is really valuable, even if it changes something dynamically, we need to be ready for that and see what we can do.’ I wanted to make sure we did this right by everybody. We brought him in and we didn’t really tell him why. We just flew him up to Lucasfilm and sat him down in a theater and said, ‘Hey, we’re bringing Thrawn into the show.’ He was like, ‘Wow.’ and I said, ‘Yeah, wow. And I’m going to show him to you right now and you let me know what you think.'”
(Before we continue, keep that first highlighted sentence in mind for future reference. I'm going to come back to that later.)
Fortunately, Timothy Zahn was delighted at the show’s approach to the Empire’s imposing blue-skinned Chiss.
“We showed him some of the scenes with him,” Dave Filoni recalls. “He looked like a kid in a candy store. I think it meant a lot to him not just because it was his character, but because you have to imagine what he went through when it was announced that everything is Legends now, not Expanded Universe. I get that and I’ve always appreciated the work that goes into the Expanded Universe… For Tim, I think it was us saying, ‘No, no, no. We really like your character. We want him to be part of the real thing. The canon universe.'”
So in 2016, before we even saw Thrawn in action beyond a trailer, we were told that Zahn gave the OK, and he was chill with the way Thrawn was created in the show. In 2017, he gave a little more of the background of this process in an interview with FANgirl Blog:
The events of Thrawn dovetail closely with Rebels and shed light on some of Thrawn’s more seemingly surprising actions on the show, like when he appears to lose his temper and yell at Lieutenant Lyste. What was it like to see Thrawn come alive onscreen? Is he how you’ve pictured him in your head?
I don’t see my characters in terms of voice or appearance, but rather as personality or attitude. That said, I very much enjoyed the way the Rebels team brought him to life, in his appearance, voice, and actions.
I also appreciated the freedom I had to tweak certain incidents, such as the one you mentioned, and give additional or alternate explanations for the viewers who may have thought those were somewhat out of character for him.
He doesn't really elaborate on this, but we can assume he had SOME creative input on Thrawn's character, and he was overall pretty happy with the choices made in the show.
But then, we have this from that earlier 2017 the Verge article:
When did you learn that Dave Filoni was intending to bring Thrawn to Rebels, and did you have any input into how the character would be handled?
[...] I didn’t have any real input into how Thrawn was going to be handled, mainly because the lead time of an animated series is so long that much of season 3 had already been finished. But I trusted Dave and the team to do the character right. After all, why bring him into Rebels if you were going to drastically change him? Having seen the entire season now, I think we can agree that my trust was completely justified.
So... he didn't have "any real input," but was satisfied with it in the end? I guess? I don't know. We're getting into some contradictions now.
The last thing I've got in regards to Rebels is an interview Zahn did with the YouTube channel Star Wars Explained after the finale aired, where he responds to the following:
“So, maybe let's jump over to Rebels for a little bit. Now that it has wrapped up, how do you feel Thrawn was represented in Star Wars: Rebels?”
“They did a really good job—they not only understood the character and how to write for him, but they also understood the meta around how you defeat him. The only way to defeat Thrawn is to throw something at him he can't control, or can't anticipate. Given perfect knowledge and control, Thrawn will always find a way to win. But they understood, this is how you defeat him, these are the things we can use against him... so his portrayal in general, is very good; he's smart, he's anticipating, he's a step ahead of everybody, he's looking at clues and picking up on them, so I was very pleased with how the Rebels team handled the character."
I think these quotes answer many of your questions, so to answer your initial question: If Zhan had been the writer for Rebels, do I think he would have had Thrawn bomb Lothal to bring Ezra out?
Yes—but ONLY because at that point, the only established™️ Thrawn content was found in Legends, where Thrawn was a ruthless and calculating warlord.
However!
I do believe that if given the chance to re-write the Star Wars: Rebels finale using his now-canon novels as a solid background TODAY, Zahn would choose to not let Thrawn bombard Lothal's Capital City.
I believe this because he made one single very interesting creative choice when writing Thrawn that completely overwrote Thrawn's pre-established Rebels character: Thrawn was not responsible for the civilian deaths on Batonn—Pryce was.
And that's that on that.
A few months ago I would have ended it there, but today, Thrawn's story is no longer just contained in the novels and Rebels, but also in that of The Mandalorian.
This is where I will proudly say I have no idea what the fuck is going on. Before The Jedi aired, I was 100% sure that the next time we saw Thrawn, it would be nowhere NEAR the Empire, because Zahn was pretty adamant in the novels that Thrawn was only in the Empire to help. His. People.
So now he's apparently doing fuck-knows-what in fuck-knows-where and is STILL associated with the Seventh Fleet and Imperial Warlords???
Huh??? Despite the fact that he held no true loyalty to the Empire or to the Emperor??? It's been months and I'm still confused as fuck. Add to the fact that Zahn also doesn't know what the fuck is going on to the equation and we get a big fat question mark with one pretty clear answer that Filoni said himself that we have to keep in mind:
"We, of course, can do what we want with a character that Lucasfilm owns."
So I don't think Zahn has much control over Thrawn as we would all like to think. We can hope he gives us the crazy Thrawn and Ezra Space Adventure™️ novel all we want, but ultimately, Thrawn's fate does not rest in his hands.
If you guys have more to add please let me know!!! This is, obviously, a topic I am very passionate about, so I'd love to hear your thoughts!
#tye answers asks#not the post youre looking for#thrawn#timothy zahn#thrawn trilogy#legends thrawn#star wars#rebels#lothal#star wars rebels#dave filoni#thrawn ascendancy#chaos rising#greater good#thrawn alliances#thrawn treason#thrawn books#wow this took a while#but I like the way this is looking
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I'm sorry to hear that your hard work was leaked but I was curious about what happened. I hope the person faced consequences because that was a very selfish thing to do leaking your work like that :(
I haven’t taken action against the person who leaked the book. I know who they are, since they uploaded the page I signed for them, and I was able to match that against my records.
I haven’t refrained from taking action because I feel sympathy for them. I don’t. It’s beyond shitty behavior to receive an early, signed book as a gift, and to then leak the entire book online. It’s a shit thing to do to the authors and an equally shit thing to do to other fans. However, I don’t want to put myself (and Wes) through the exhausting, grim and expensive process of legal repercussions. It doesn’t mean what this person did isn’t horrible, and it doesn’t mean they haven’t cost the entire fandom any chance of there ever being an early contest giveaway like that again. They did. There never will be. There will be no ARCs of Chain of Iron, either, and you can thank them for that, too.
Part of what makes piracy such an issue for authors goes far beyond the individual assholes who upload and distribute and translate stolen books. It’s that the whole system is set up to make it incredibly difficult for us to do anything about it. Publishers do little to nothing to prevent piracy, and authors shoulder the entire burden of searching out and reporting illegal copies of their books. And even then, we’re dependent on whether or not the reported website feels like complying with copyright laws or not. Twitter is incredibly slow to respond, Tumblr is about fifty-fifty on bothering at all. They’re legally required to take action, but they also know that the effort of doing something about it if they do not falls on exhausted, overburdened artists who often can’t afford to follow up with a lawyer’s letter.
And like, I get being broke and wanting to read books; there were a lot of books I had to pass up reading when I was broke (I will be forever grateful to the library system of New York and Brooklyn, which is how I read books at all from about 2001-2004.) I was broke enough that I slept on a bare mattress because I couldn’t afford sheets, but I’m pretty sure if I broke into Bed, Bath and Beyond and stole a bunch of fitted percale bedding I wouldn’t have encountered much sympathy if I got caught.
I talked about this on Twitter before, and I’ll say it again here though I know it will make very little difference: pirating books doesn’t just hurt the author of those books. It hurts everyone at the publishing company, where the margin of profit is razor-thin (and yes, publishers should do more to protect themselves against piracy; I agree there); it hurts bookstores, especially indie bookstores (I remember doing an event at a store that told me, sadly, that they were likely going to have to close because people “came into the store, looked at the books, took notes, then went home and pirated them.”) It hurts libraries, who rely on circulation for funding, and the shutting down of libraries hurts people who actually can’t afford books.
Now, I know is no way to talk people out of piracy; the internet has normalized it, and besides, people will generally do the cheaper, easier thing — you can’t talk people into not doing something they want to do by telling them it’s wrong, in my experience. They’ll find ways to justify it, whether it be that they can’t afford the book or it isn’t yet available in their language or that they find the author “problematic” and this is the way they’ve chosen to punish them.
The reason I put “problematic” in quotes is because yes, of course you can read and enjoy work that has problematic elements. Pretty much everything has some element that’s going to be found problematic by someone — which is exactly why deciding that it’s morally excusable to steal from people you think are creating flawed work is more than problematic. Holding creators accountable for their work means critiquing that work, not stealing it.
I listen to a lot of political podcasts, and some of them review work by extreme right-wing politicians etc. who have written books that the podcasters find morally despicable but wish to, or need to, review and discuss. Since they don’t wish to give money to the authors, they buy second-hand copies or take the book out of the library. They certainly don’t steal, translate and distribute copies of the books because they genuinely do not like them and do not want more people reading them. That’s what it looks like when you have an actual moral problem with a book or author.
However, running multiple fan accounts for a book series, naming your internet identity after characters from that book series, and talking endlessly about “your favorite parts” and how this is “your favorite book” entirely invalidates any argument that you’re doing this because you think the books are bad, evil, etc. If you claim a book is actively homophobic or racist but are so desperate to read it that you’ll steal it, so excited about it that you’ll share that stolen copy, so obsessed that you’ll illegally translate a whole book and provide that stolen translation to as many people as possible, and so dedicated to the fandom that you’ll name yourself after the characters in the books and write poetry about them, I have to tell you: the last thing that looks like is that you actually find the books problematic, regardless of what you say to the contrary. It looks like you like them but don’t want to pay for them, because in fact, that’s the case. (Either that or it looks like you’re really into racist, homophobic books, and making sure as many people read them as possible, which is your problem.)
One of the issues I have with piracy is that it teaches you to hate creators. You have to hate them, because you’re doing a fucking awful thing to them and you have to justify it. This results in lying about creators — about their process, their translations, their research — as if somehow, even if they were bad researchers, that would justify widespread theft. (It doesn’t.) Those who steal books wind up in a headspace where they are obsessed with the content of the books, and entirely unwilling to accept the reality that those books were created by a real person that they’re really harming. It encourages the mentality that I didn’t create Jem or Magnus or Will or Cordelia: they came from some kind of sparkly outerspace planet and I was just lucky enough to get to write down their adventures. It invalidates the hard work creators put into what they create, and in fact, erases their very existence. The internet attitude toward creators is already incredibly toxic (especially if they’re women, LGBT+ and/or BIPOC) and the feeling of entitlement to free content, and vicious hatred toward those who aren’t providing it (even though a lot of creators, me included, provide a great deal of free content) contributes to that. Genuinely, if you’re stealing someone’s work, the least you could do is not also be an asshole about them. (Or pretend you’re Robin Hood. He stole from the rich who had taken property and goods from the poor, and returned that stolen wealth. He didn’t steal from artists and independent bookstores and use that stealing to benefit himself and his friends. The idea is actually kind of funny.)
I understand there is a pressure to be up to date on the books that are being released so as to participate in fandom, and I do get that. Unfortunately, piracy has real consequences that stretch beyond just hurting me and Wes. Because LGBT+ books are pirated at such an incredible rate, and we’ve definitely seen that with TEC, I am left wondering if there will ever be an actual Spanish translation of TEC, or whether the publisher will decide not to bother because it’s already been so thoroughly pirated in Spanish. I have to wonder if there will even be a third book of TEC at all, or whether publishers will feel it isn’t worth doing. And I have to wonder why the people who create this situation so often have usernames that include Jem or Magnus or Alec or Cordelia or Julian or Tessa. What an incredible misunderstanding of those characters, to imagine a world in which Will Herondale or Magnus Bane or James Carstairs would approve of stealing books and harming writers. And why name yourself after a character who absolutely couldn’t stand you? I don’t know. I don’t get it, any more than I get hating someone who provided you with something you claim is your favorite book.
That was a much longer answer than you were probably expecting or hoping for, and I know I’ll get yelled at quite thoroughly for writing it. Writers always do, when we engage with the issue of piracy. I know most of you reading this acquire your books honestly; most of you are not like this at all. But like most things on the internet, a small amount of people really do have the power to make things pretty rotten for everyone else.
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Demon!Dimitrescux Reader
Synopsis: Lady Dimitrescu reveals herself as a demon that has made it her personal mission to guard you after what you believe is the case of worst/best timing of your entire life. No trigger warnings. 1.6k words.
A/N: This took me less than two hours to write/publish this. I needed this out of my system ASAP
The black Toyota Corolla had to look strangely familiar your first pass down the street. It reminded you of your boyfriend’s car, and you swore that the digits of the license plate must have been one or two off his, and the generic pine tree air freshener must have been a different color. Not to mention the woman in the backseat with a cocktail dress on.
You chose not to think about it as you walked into the 7-11 in nothing but your pajamas and the pair of crocs you haven’t worn since being on the college swim team. It wasn’t hard to decide what to grab off the shelves. A bag of chips store brand sour patch kids and gummy worms, a two-liter of Pepsi, and a bottle of wine too big for one person. The cashier looked just as tired as you did, and you understood what it was like, barely, time is a social construct that distanced you deeply from the night shifts you pulled at this same store while in college. Nine to five shifts (Dolly Parton shifts, your coworker would call them with a smile) were only better because you could sit down and have a stable sleep schedule. It was the same grueling work, and in your case, you had to deal with the same shitty people that complained about things you can’t control.
His droning voice pulled you out of your train of thoughts. “The total is forty-eight fifty-seven.” He was either crying in the backroom while you were picking out your chips or hit a massive dab, you weren’t sure, but his red eyes made either option feasible. You didn’t comment on it, only handing him two twenties and a ten and taking the change back before walking out the door. You didn’t say anything to him, and vice versa, which you appreciated because you didn’t have the energy to deal with a chatty Kathy right now. And as you pull yourself down the street, your bag of crap from 7-11 in your hand, you pass that same deja-vu-mobile and look at the stickers on the back.
The same I love my dog and proud cat-dad stickers in the exact same place, the dent on the right side of the bumper, and the license plate that was in fact, one hundred percent his. Which begs the question, who was the girl in the cocktail dress, and what was she doing in the backseat? The question didn’t matter for long because the car promptly burst into flames. Oh well. Wait.
The.
Car.
Is.
On.
Fire.
It’s your boyfriend’s car.
Your
Boyfriends.
Car.
Is.
On.
Fire.
You wipe out your phone to call the fire department when you see the girl in the same cocktail dress crawl out of the car, dress pulled up to her waist, barefoot and mascara streaming down her face. She’s violently beating his clutch against the ground, desperate to put out the flames while your boyfriend slams the door open on the other side and throws himself out full force onto the asphalt of the busy street. He looks up and sees the anger in your eyes.
“Hey, babe.”
“I-I-can-” he stutters violently. His face was red in anger and blood dripping from his nose due to the face-first collision with the freshly paved street.
“We’re over.”
You do him the favor of calling the fire department for his car and walk off as soon as you hear the sirens of the firetruck. You didn’t have anything to do with it. No need to watch the fallout when you had nothing to do with the disaster. Besides, your soda’s getting cold, you wanted to drink that before it got Luke-warm. You ended up dropping off the crap and walking to the 24-7 grocery store a little farther in the other direction to get ice cream. Standing in the frozen aisle, in nothing but your pajamas, bright red crocs, and moist eyes, you try and decide between the weird, nuanced flavors that all taste like vanilla anyhow.
You look up towards the top shelf when you notice the woman leaning over you. She’s deathly pale, skin as pale as paper and lipstick so red it glowed compared to everything else. Her huge hat would make a shadow on her face if it weren’t propped right above her hairline.
“So, did you enjoy the show sweet-heart,” she whispers in your ear. You feel her breath on your neck and her gaze freezes your heart. “You didn’t think that his car catching on fire was a happy accident now did you?”
You turn around, only not to see her behind you, but on the fogged-up glass doors on the other side of the aisle. “Did you really think that I’d be standing right behind you?” Her question is almost taunting.
“Who are you?”
She breathes into her elegant pipe only to blow out to re-fog the glass before staring dead into your eyes and saying the words that changed your life forever. “I’m your guardian demon.”
You honestly thought you were losing your mind, seeing this woman in the glass, telling you she was a demon who set your ex’s car on fire. (It felt odd to call him that, you had been dating him for three years). Her elegant leg steps through the glass, her dress riding up to just below her knee before it hit the ground and the rest of her flowed into our realm as smoothly as her dress swayed when she walked over to you.
She was almost twice your height, and the view from where she stood in front of you made her feel even more so tall. “So mortal, what do you have to say, knowing that you have a five-hundred-year-old all-powerful demon protecting you?”
“What happened to my guardian angel?”
She scoffs. “You never had one. Most people nowadays have guardian angels, in fact, I’ve only heard of one other mortal who hasn’t had one that’s alive right now.”
“What do you mean?” You can’t help but ask. There’s an entire world of things you didn’t understand. Angels. Demons. Hell, even bigfoot could be real for all you know.
“Well, darling, there is a very simple answer to that question: there are only so many angels for so many mortals, and so sometimes a few slip through the cracks of the system, and that’s where we step in.” She moves around to the refrigerator next to you and inspects the sorbets. “Despite what the church tells you, us demons love humans. They’re a claim to social status. You bring a human home, and you’re viewed as wealthy, famous even.”
“So that’s what you get out of taking a person’s soul in a deal.”
She turns to you. “When I what now?”
“Ya’ know,” you say, “a person makes a deal with a demon in exchange for money or fame, and when they die their soul belongs to the demon and they’re doomed to eternal hell yada-yada-yada.”
“Is that what they’re teaching you, now.”
“At least that’s what my mother says. I didn’t really believe in any of this stuff till you stepped out of the door and said you set my ex’s car on fire.”
“I would have done it sooner, but you looked so happy with him, it was difficult to pull that away from you,” she sighs before standing up to her full height, “that woman he was with was going to give you HPV and I’d prefer the human I fought tooth and nail over to not get an STD. I would never have let that stupid-man-thing touch you had I known he would cheat on you with a mortal so… infected.” What an interesting word to decide to land on.
She turns and waltzes back across the aisle with a grace that has long been lost to time. “And besides, you’re better off without him, with him off your mind you’ll be able to take that new project on at work and get that raise you’ve been needing so badly.”
You’re still trying to process this. “You mentioned that you only heard of one other mortal with a demon guardian. Who is he?”
“His name doesn’t matter, all I really care about is that damn man-child, Heisenberg, is watching him, which means he won’t be alive much longer.”
“Do you kill us?”
She puts her hand to her chest and looks genuinely offended before her features soften when she realizes you had never met a demon in your entire life not to mention even believing in them. “We would never. Our humans are like our children, and while we may not be able to subtle pull strings to protect those that we watch over, we do have our more… direct ways of protecting them.”
“Like setting his car on fire.”
“I’ve done worse things to keep you safe.”
Your face pales, but your curiosity brightens your eyes. “Like what?”
“Your so demand, child, but remember when lightning struck the tree in your backyard, and it fell and landed on your neighbor fifteen or so years ago?”
You can’t formulate words.
“Or how your car broke down on the side of the road so you couldn’t reach the hotel you booked?”
“You did that!”
“They were going to steal your luggage!” She scoffs before taking a long drag from her pipe. “Anymore, questions?”
“Is Jesus real?”
“I wasn’t there for that, and if he was, he hasn’t left his fluffy little sky bed since being nailed to that goddamn cross.”
“One more.”
“It better not be stupid, darling.”
“What ice cream should I get?”
Her soft smile returns. “Get the java-chip, but the one right behind the front one, there’s a little extra than usual in that container.”
#lady dimitrescu#alcina x reader#alcina dimitrescu#dimitrescu x reader#demon dimitrescu#resident evil 8#resident evil village#resident evil x reader
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Mr. Protector Man - George Weasley
Request: Hey i never ask for a request before but here: like George and female reader are together and she is the daughter of Sirius then the year with Umbridge come and wont leave the reader alone because of her last name then George get very protective and make sure nothing bad is gonna happened to the reader. Ps i really like your writing! AND Hii! I like your writing and i was wondering if u could write a George Weasley imagine where the reader is Sirious Black daughter and its during the year where Umbridge is there and she’s giving a hard time to the reader and George is there to protect her and help her? Sorry this is veery long! Thank you
A/N: Thank You for Requesting. BTW Requests are always open. I kinda ran with this idea and played up dad!Sirius because I love that image. I hope you all enjoy it. Thank you!
Mr. Protector Man
There were only a few weeks left of your summer before you returned for Hogwarts for the final time, at least as a student. Your years at Hogwarts had been filled with twists thanks to the appearance of one Harry Potter, but you really couldn’t complain. In fact, you were quite grateful for his appearance. With someone with a more famous name than yours, you could finally move out of the spotlight and into something that you could call confidence. Not that you were not a confident person, but the constant reminder that your father was a murderer didn’t help in the whole “making friends” part of your life. Luckily, a pair of twins made their way into your life, and you could never explain how eternally grateful you were for their presence.
In your fifth year, however, the attention turned back to you when your father escaped Azkaban. It would have been terrible for you, had you not had Fred and George constantly reminding you of how incredible you were. Overtime, however, you grew more comfortable with the knowledge that your father was free, and when Remus met with you to tell you all that he had learned, you were ecstatic. Finally, you could say that your father was worth the love that you had stored away for him.
Your sixth year also brought about changes to your personality. You found that your confidence grew since people were no longer talking about you and your father. To say that you were grateful Harry was placed in the tournament was selfish, but you were happy to know that you could live your life without being put on trial for everything that you said and did because of your last name. Throughout that year, you were able to send a couple of letters to Sirius that were filled with your life story. He was thankful that you grew up to be happy and didn’t suffer at the hands of muggles like Harry did. All he ever wanted for you was for you to be happy, so when the summer came around, he was stuck at Grimmauld Place, you jumped at the opportunity to finally be with your dad. There were people, those that will not be mentioned, who thought that this was a terrible idea, but Remus suggested that this would be a good opportunity for the both of you.
When you finally moved in, you were nervous to be around the man who was never there to raise you. There was a part of you that resented him, but you understood the circumstances and swallowed your pride. When he saw you for the first time, he practically burst into tears, and you didn’t hesitate to launch yourself into your arms. You were both filled with joy at the thought of finally being able to become a sort of dysfunctional family. The rest of the day was filled with tears and laughter as he told you about his school days and you told him about yours. When Remus came to visit the happy family, he was shocked by how quickly you two got along. He thought there would be some awkwardness, but instead it felt as if the two of you had been together the whole time. He was delighted to see one of his oldest friends return to the world of the happy and see his smile be genuine.
When the Weasley family joined what felt like a party of two, you were even more excited than before, although you were slightly disappointed at the loss of time that was going to be spent with your father. Your routine had changed to accommodate the gingers, but worst of all, you had to keep things under control with George. Sirius was aware that you were seeing someone, but he chose not to think too much into it. It wasn’t until he found the two of you cuddled up on the couch that he realized that your boyfriend was sleeping in the room right beside yours. Now, cue the protective father instinct, and you find Padfoot sleeping in the hallway between the two doors most nights. The problem with this logic was that Sirius was a deep sleeper, and so long as you didn’t step on the poor dog, you could get away with just about anything. You easily tiptoed across his sleeping body to find your boyfriend. George was worried about making this move, so he often let you do it to avoid him losing his life.
With only a few days left, you found that you were beginning to worry about what school would be like when you got back. There were rumors spreading and false information making its way into headlines. Both you and Harry were at risk to some bad treatment from the school, but you just remembered all of the stories Sirius told you about his time at Hogwarts and tried to channel his cool energy. Sirius could sense your change in demeanor, but he chose not to question it. He even looked to George to see if he noticed it as well, and he was pleasantly surprised to see that your attentive boyfriend was indeed acknowledging these small changes. They both wrote it off as some before school jitters, but Sirius and George were still worried about you.
Now, fast forward to meeting the pink toad. Everything in your body ached at the sound of her shrill voice. More than anything, you wanted to throw something at her in hopes of finally shutting her up. It wasn’t until your first class with her, that you really began to feel hatred bubble up inside of you. You were aware of how she mistreated others, especially Harry, so you tried to stay off her radar. Sadly, she was very aware of who you were and reminded you of it every chance she got.
“Miss Black, please put away your wand.” You grimaced at her voice but maneuvered your wand away from the view of the wretched woman. You sighed and started writing down the useless information from the book. Everything that was written down and published was nearly a lie. You put your head in your hand and continued to sketch down those ideas of what a useless institution called “defense against the dark arts.” How was this even true? You lived with Remus and for a while with your father. Both people taught you defense knowing that your last name would be troublesome. This information was vital to your life, but this class was killing you slowly.
“Ahem,” her voice made you want to shove the quill into your ears. “Miss Black, sit up straight and show some respect. It seems that you cannot act like a lady in this class. I will see you in detention tonight. Maybe then you will learn how not to act like the daughter of a murderer.” You scoffed, but you remained quiet. You thought back to your last talk you had with Sirius.
“You know, there are still going to be people who will say things about me.” You sighed at your father.
“Of course I know. I know the truth though, and for now that’s all that matters.” Sirius smiled at your commentary, but he knew that words about your family can hurt, especially when they are pointed at you. He was someone who was unaware of the comments that can be made. He was worried before you were born that his name would be troublesome, but there was never a time that he believed that it would be his own fault.
“I need you to understand that it is not your duty to defend me. The world will not believe the truth, especially given these times. They don’t believe Harry or Dumbledore, which means that they are not going to believe you. Please, promise me that you will take care of yourself first.” You reluctantly nodded your head.
“Fine, but I’m not going to be happy about it. I hate being a reflection of a lie.” You wanted the rest of the wizarding world to know what an amazing man your father was. You wanted to be seen as more than the daughter of someone who murdered his friends without a second thought. You gave your father a hug and murmured a promise to him that you meant to keep.
As you stand before the door that led to the devil, you questioned why you would make a promise that constituted you to put yourself in danger and to lose all that you had worked so hard to maintain in your life. Your night was spent with a throbbing, bloody hand, and a single tear that was not for the physical pain, but the emotional loss you acquired by allowing this witch to have an impact.
The following weeks, you met with the toad in detention. Most of the time, they were small offenses that typically would go unnoticed by other professors. You kept your word to your father the entire time, despite the physical and emotional turmoil of these events. The word “insubordinate” stained your hand and was a constant reminder of how you felt. You felt useless and worthless. This didn’t go unnoticed. George saw this change in your behavior. Your smile was forced, and your eyes were red with tears that he was certain met only your pillow. He knew that he had to take action. He felt terrible for doing something before, but he never knew how bad it was until he saw you that one night in the hallway.
You sat down on the ground and let your back trace the freezing bricks. You took your hand and wrapped it in a bandage, something you knew to bring with you now. You placed the wrapped hand against the wall, as a way to numb the stinging. You didn’t let any tears fall. Instead, you stared ahead of you and drowned out any noises. That was how George found you. He walked over to you and sat down beside you. No words were shared in this exchange. He didn’t know what to say or do to help, so he stayed by your side in silence, hoping that you would say something.
“I’m sorry that you have to see me like this. I will head back up to my dorm and get some sleep. You should too.” You stood up and placed a chaste kiss on cheek and walked briskly to your dorm. George watched your retreating form and realized that he failed to protect you like he wished he could. He made a promise to himself that he would not allow anything else to happen to you.
You were sitting in the great hall when George appeared beside you. He pulled you into his body and kept his arm over your shoulder. You forced another smile and tried not to get emotional. It felt strange to be held like you were so important to someone. George didn’t let you go for a while. Then you both made your way to the classroom that was known to bring pain and grief to many of the students. You sat down and tried to keep your cool. No matter how hard you tried to not cause any trouble, the woman always found a way to bring attention to you in a negative light.
“Miss Black, you should know by now that I am not a fan of your attitude, but this is unacceptable.” You weren’t even sure what she was lecturing you about. Honestly, you couldn’t care less what the issue was.
“Professor, I think you should be respectful of this girl. She has done nothing wrong. You just don’t like her because you don’t like her last name. You should mind your tongue.” Those harsh and direct words came from the mouth of the one person who would always have your back.
“Mr. Weasley, I will see both you and Miss Black in detention. Now, sit down and do your work.” George scoffed and walked over to where you were sitting.
“I don’t think so. This class is over for today as far as I’m concerned.” His act of defiance came to a close with you being led out by him with a shocked look on the woman’s face.
“George. George, stop it right now. We can’t just walk out of class. We are going to get into more trouble.” As you two continued down the hall he stopped abruptly.
“No Y/N. I am not going to stop. You’re the one who needs to stop lying to me. You can’t keep letting her have an effect on you. We both know that you are so much more than the reputation that comes with your name. She’s just jealous that you are more famous and pure than she ever will be. She’s a disgrace to the world. Not your dad, and most certainly not you.” His words brought the tears back. His love for you was unbelievably pure and unconditional.
As George watched you fall apart in front of him, he held you. You clung to him as if he was going to disappear if you let go. You both stood in the middle of this empty hallway without a care in the world. Neither of you were aware of how much time was spent there. Your tears started to dry, and your hiccups eventually dissipated, much to your appreciation. You two only became aware of your surroundings when the sound of footsteps echoed.
“Mr. Weasley, Miss Black. Why aren’t you in class?” You turned your head in the direction of Professor Mcgonagall. As she saw your tear stained expression, her face dropped. She assumed what the issue was. Throughout your years at Hogwarts, she saw a lot of Sirius in you. You reminded her of the chaos your father and his friends brought to school, but you also reflected his kindness and sincerity. There had always been some dissonance between you and some of the professors, but she had always had a soft spot for you. With the terror of the woman in pink, she could only assume that you and Harry were getting the brunt of it. The Weasley twins as well, but she suspected that they were intentional in their actions.
“Sorry professor, but I couldn’t sit there and listen to her talk to Y/N like that any longer.”
“Please professor, it was my fault. Don’t let George get in any trouble for protecting me.” You couldn’t handle knowing that you were the reason George was in trouble two times in the span of an hour with two different professors.
“Did you two receive detention from her?” You both nodded. “Well, I will make sure that it is spent with me instead. Now, I don’t expect you to return to that class, but please try to be punctual to the others. Oh, and Miss Black, don’t let her words get to you. We both know the truth.” She offered you a smile and assured you both that she would see you in her office for detention, which you both know would not be a real detention.
That night, you sat by George and talked. For the first time in too long, the two of you discussed how you were feeling.
“Y/N you know that your name is not a representation of you. Her words are nothing more than a jealous filled disgust. She holds the opinion of the ministry who refuses to acknowledge the truth of our times. But I need you to come to me if she ever says or does anything to you when I am not around. I will always do what I can to be there for you because you are worth the world.” You shifted to move closer to his body, and you nodded. You were grateful to him for being there as your voice when you couldn’t be there for yourself.
“Thank you Georgie for being there for me. I love you so much.” He chuckled quietly.
“I love you too, but this wasn’t a one time thing. I am here to be your hero, which I have already proved to be earlier, if I might add. You and I are going to do this together, and I’m not going to let her hurt you anytime soon. I will, however, be working with Fred to get some revenge going. You are welcome to join me, but you can���t be out in the field with us. I’m not going to let you get caught, and get into more trouble. Understood?”
“Yes George, I understand.” You giggled. “Mr. Protector Man.”
“That was all you came up with? I’m ashamed.” He laughed, and you joined in.
“Give me time, I’ll come up with something better eventually.”
When you returned to Grimmauld Place for the holidays, you were ecstatic. Your dad was just as happy to see you, especially to spend the holidays with you for the first time since you were an infant. Sirius was also aware that he owed a lot to your boyfriend. George had sent a letter to his mother that included an additional note for Sirius. He wrote about the issues that you were dealing with due to the pink witch, and how you did everything you could to uphold your promise to him, despite the physical pain you endured. Sirius was proud of you for being strong, but he felt guilty knowing how hurt you were because of him again.
“Y/N, come here. I think we should talk.” You walked over to your dad and sat down beside him. “I know you made a promise to me earlier on, but I hope that we can acknowledge that this woman is not worth your time and energy. I know, because you're a lot like me, that you want to tell her off, and I think maybe you should. I just need you to be careful about it, because I don’t want you getting hurt anymore.” You nodded and thought about all that you wanted to say to her. You always bit your tongue, but you also thought that maybe it was a blessing in disguise that you never told her off. George knew exactly what to do and say to avoid you getting into any more trouble, but you knew that if you spoke your mind, then you probably would get into more serious trouble.
“Thank you, but I think I’ll keep silent a little longer. Plus, I’ve been helping Fred and George with their pranks, so I think that is enough for now.” Sirius’ face lit up knowing that you pranked the toad. That is exactly what he and James would have done.
“So, this George guy,” Sirius began with a smirk on his face, “I approve of him. He’s a good one, and I’m happy he’s with you.” You smiled at your dad.
“Me too. He really is the best.”
“I think him and I need to have a word though.” You sighed at him and gave him a knowing look. “It won’t be anything bad, entirely.” You laughed and stood up and patted him on the back jokingly.
George appeared in the doorway and made his way over to your father. You left the two of them alone, knowing that their conversation was going to be a good one.
After a long while, longer than you expected, George reappeared.
“So, what did you two talk about?” You urged, pointing a finger at his chest.
“You know, a little of this, a little of that. He just wants to know that you’re happy and that I am doing my job. Protecting you of course, and he offered a nice little threat that I should never even think about hurting you because then he would willingly find himself back in Azkaban.” You gasped playfully, knowing that your father would never actually hurt him, and that George could never hurt you either.
“Well, the ministry thinks he is a murderer, so who knows what he might do.”
“I am your own personal Mr. Protector Man, so I don't think that he is going to be able to touch me.” You both laughed at his comment.
“I thought you hated that name. You told me you were ashamed.”
“It’s growing on me. I love you Miss Black, surname and all.”
“I love you too Mr. Weasley, but I think I like Mr. Protector Man a bit more.” You giggled and rested your head on his chest.
#harry potter x reader#george weasley imagine#george weasley x reader#fred weasley imagine#fred Weasley x reader#sirius black imagine#sirius black x reader
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Patent troll's IP more powerful than Apple's
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I was 12 years into my Locus Magazine column when I published the piece I'm most proud of, "IP," from September 2020. It came after an epiphany, one that has profoundly shaped the way I talk and think about the issues I campaign on.
https://locusmag.com/2020/09/cory-doctorow-ip/
That revelation was about the meaning of the term "IP," which had been the center of this tedious linguistic cold war for decades. People who advocate for free and open technology and culture hate the term "IP" because of its ideological loading and imprecision.
Ideology first: Before "IP" came into wide parlance - when lobbyists for multinational corporations convinced the UN to turn their World Intellectual Property Organization into a specialized agency, we used other terms like "author's monopolies" and "regulatory monopolies."
"Monopoly" is a pejorative. "Property" is sacred to our society. When a corporation seeks help defending its monopoly, it is a grubby corrupter. When it asks for help defending its property, it is enlisting the public to defend the state religion.
Free culture people know allowing "monopolies" to become "property" means losing the battle before it is even joined, but it is frankly unavoidable. How do you rephrase "IP lawyer" without conceding the property point? "Trademark-copyright-patent-and-related-rights lawyer?"
Thus the other half of the objection to "IP": its imprecision. Copyright is not anything like patent. Patent is not anything like trademark. Trade secrets are an entirely different thing again. Don't let's get started on sui generis and neighboring rights.
And this is where my revelation came: as it is used in business circles, "IP" has a specific, precise meaning. "IP" means, "Any law, policy or regulation that allows me to control the conduct of my competitors, critics and customers."
Copyright, patent and trademark all have limitations and exceptions designed to prevent this kind of control, but if you arrange them in overlapping layers around a product, each one covers the exceptions in the others.
Creators don't like having their copyrights called "author's monopolies." Monopolists get to set prices. All the copyright in the world doesn't let an author charge publishers more for their work. The creators have a point.
But when author's monopolies are acquired by corporate monopolists, something magical and terrible happens.
Remember: market-power monopolies are still (theoretically) illegal and when companies do things to maintain or expand their monopolies, they risk legal jeopardy.
But: The corporate monopolist who uses IP to expand their monopoly has no such risk. Monopolistic conduct in defense of IP enjoys wide antitrust forbearance. What's the point of issuing patents or allowing corporations to buy copyrights if you don't let them enforce them?
The IP/market-power monopoly represents a futuristic corporate alloy, a new metal never seen, impervious to democratic control.
Software is "IP" and so any device with software in it is like beskar, a rare metal that can be turned into the ultimate corporate armor.
No company exemplifies this better than Apple, a company that used limitations on IP to secure its market power, then annihilated those limits so that no one could take away its market power.
https://www.eff.org/deeplinks/2019/06/adversarial-interoperability-reviving-elegant-weapon-more-civilized-age-slay
In the early 2000s, Apple was in trouble. The convicted monopolist Microsoft ruled the business world, and if you were the sole Mac user in your office, you were screwed.
When a Windows user sent you a Word file, you could (usually) open it in the Mac version of Word, but then if you saved that file again, it often became forever cursed, unopenable by any version of Microsoft Office ever created or ever to be created.
This became a huge liability. Designers started keeping a Windows box next to their dual processor Power Macs, just to open Office docs. Or worse (for Apple), they switched to a PC and bought Windows versions of Adobe and Quark Xpress.
Steve Jobs didn't solve this problem by begging Bill Gates to task more engineers to Office for Mac. Instead, Jobs got Apple techs to reverse-engineer all of the MS Office file formats and release a rival office suite, Iwork, which could read and write MS Office files.
That was an Apple power move, one that turned MS's walled garden into an all-you-can-eat buffet of potential new Mac users. Apple rolled out the Switch ads, whose message was, "Every MS Office file used to be a reason *not* to use a Mac. Now it's a reason to switch *to* a Mac."
More-or-less simultaneously, though, Apple was inventing the hybrid market/IP monopoly tool that would make it the most valuable company in the world, in its design for the Ipod and the accompanying Itunes store.
It had a relatively new legal instrument to use for this purpose: 1998's Digital Millennium Copyright Act; specifically, Section 1201 of the DMCA, the "anti-circumvention" clause, which bans breaking DRM.
Under DMCA 1201, if a product has a copyrighted work (like an operating system) and it has an "access control" (like a password or a bootloader key), then bypassing the access control is against the law, even if no copyright infringement takes place.
That last part - "even if no copyright infringement takes place" - is the crux of DMCA 1201. The law was intended to support the practices of games console makers and DVD player manufacturers, who wanted to stop competitors from making otherwise legal devices.
With DVD players, that was about "region coding," the part of the DVD file format that specified which countries a DVD could be played back in. If you bought a DVD in London, you couldn't play it in Sydney or New York.
Now, it's not a copyright violation to buy a DVD and play it wherever you happen to be. As a matter of fact, buying a DVD and playing it is the *opposite* of a copyright infringement.
But it *was* a serious challenge to the entertainment cartel's business-model, which involved charging different prices and having different release dates for the same movie depending on where you were.
The same goes for games consoles: companies like Sega and Nintendo made a lot of money charging creators for the right to sell games that ran on the hardware they sold.
If I own a Sega Dreamcast, and you make a game for it, and I buy it and run it on my Sega, that's not a copyright infringement, even if Sega doesn't like it. But if you have to bypass an "access control" to get the game to play without Sega's blessing, it violates DMCA 1201.
What's more, DMCA 1201 has major penalties for "trafficking in circumvention devices" and information that could be used to build such a device, such as reports of exploitable flaws in the programming of a DRM system: $500k in fines and a 5 year sentence for a first offense.
Deregionalizing a DVD player or jailbreaking a Dreamcast didn't violate anyone's copyrights, but it still violated copyright law (!). It was pure IP, the right to control the conduct of critics (security researchers), customers and competitors.
In the words of Jay Freeman, it's "Felony contempt of business-model."
And that's where the Ipod came in. Steve Jobs's plan was to augment the one-time revenue from an Ipod with a recurrent revenue stream from the Itunes store.
He exploited the music industry's superstitious dread of piracy and naive belief in the efficacy of DRM to convince the record companies to only sell music with his DRM wrapper on it - a wrapper they themselves could not authorize listeners to remove.
Ever $0.99 Itunes purchase added $0.99 to the switching cost of giving up your Ipod for a rival device, or leaving Itunes and buying DRM music from a rival store. It was control over competitors and customers. It was IP.
If you had any doubt that the purpose of Ipod/Itunes DRM was to fight competitors, not piracy, then just cast your mind back to 2004, when Real Media "hacked" the Ipod so that it would play music locked with Real's DRM as well as Apple's.
http://www.internetnews.com/bus-news/article.php/3387871/Apple+RealNetworks+Hacked+iPod.htm
Apple used DMCA 1201 to shut Real down, not to stop copyright infringement, but to prevent Apple customers from buying music from record labels and playing them on their Ipods without paying Apple a commission and locking themselves to Apple's ecosystem, $0.99 at a time.
Pure IP. Now, imagine if Microsoft had been able to avail itself of DMCA 1201 when Iwork was developed - if, for example, its "information rights management" encryption had caught on, creating "access controls" for all Office docs.
There's a very strong chance that would have killed Apple off before it could complete its recovery. Jobs knew the power of interoperating without consent, and he knew the power of invoking the law to block interoperability. He practically invented modern IP.
Apple has since turned IP into a trillion-dollar valuation, largely off its mobile platform, the descendant of the Ipod. This mobile platform uses DRM - and thus DMCA 1201 - to ensure that you can only use apps that come from its app store.
Apple gets a cut of penny you spend buying an app, and every penny you spend within that app: 30% (now 15% for a minority of creators after bad publicity).
IP lets one of the least taxed corporations on Earth extract a 30% tax from everyone else.
https://locusmag.com/2021/03/cory-doctorow-free-markets/
Remember, it's not copyright infringement for me to write an app and you to buy it from me and play it on your Iphone without paying the 30% Apple tax.
That's the exact opposite of copyright infringement: buying a copyrighted work and enjoying it on a device you own.
But it's still an IP violation. It bypasses Apple's ability to control competitors and customers. It's felony contempt of business-model.
It shows that under IP, copyright can't be said to exist as an incentive to creativity - rather, it's a tool for maintaining monopolies.
Which brings me to today's news that Apple was successfully sued by a patent troll over its DRM. A company called Personalized Media Communications whose sole product is patent lawsuits trounced Apple in the notorious East Texas patent-troll court.
https://www.bloomberg.com/news/articles/2021-03-19/apple-told-to-pay-308-5-million-for-infringing-drm-patent
After software patents became widespread - thanks to the efforts of Apple and co - there was a bonanza of "inventors" filing garbage patents with the USPTO whose format was "Here's an incredibly obvious thing...*with a computer*." The Patent Office rubberstamped them by the million.
These patents became IP, a way to extract rent without having to make a product. "Investors" teamed up with "inventors" to buy these and impose a tax on businesses - patent licensing fees that drain money from people who make things and give it to people who buy things.
They found a court - the East Texas court in Marshall, TX - that was hospitable to patent trolls. They rented dusty PO boxes in Marshall and declared them to be their "headquarters" so that they could bring suits there.
Locals thrived - they got jobs as "administrators" (mail forwarders) for the thousands of "businesses" whose "head office" was in Marshall (when you don't make a product, your head office can be a PO box).
Productive companies facing hundreds of millions - billions! - in patent troll liability sought to curry favor with locals (who were also the jury pool) by "donating" things to Marshall, like the skating rink Samsung bought for the town.
https://hbswk.hbs.edu/item/why-south-korea-s-samsung-built-the-only-outdoor-skating-rink-in-texas
Patent, like copyright, is supposed to serve a public purpose. There are only two clauses in the US Constitution that come with explanations (the rest being "truths held to be self-evident"): the Second Amendment and the "Progress Clause" that creates patents and copyrights.
Famously, the Second Amendment says you can bear arms as part of a "well-regulated militia."
And the Progress Clause? It extends to Congress the power to create patents and copyrights "to promote the Progress of Science and useful Arts."
I'm with Apple in its ire over this judgment. Sending $308.5m to a "closely held" patent troll has nothing to do with the "Progress of Science and useful Arts."
But it has *everything* to do with IP.
If copyright law can let Apple criminalize - literally criminalize - you selling me If copyright law can let Apple criminalize - literally criminalize - you selling me your copyrighted work, then there's no reason to hate on patent trolls.
They're just doing what trolls do: blocking the bridge between someone engaged in useful work and the customers for that work, and extracting a toll. It's not even 30%.
There is especial and delicious irony in the fact that the patent in question is a DRM patent: a patent for the very same process that Apple uses to lock down its devices and prevent creators from selling to customers without paying the 30% Apple Tax.
But even without that, it's as good an example of what an IP marketplace looks like: one in which making things becomes a liability. After all, the more you make, the more chances there are for an IP owner to demand tax from you to take it to market.
The only truly perfect IP is the naked IP of a patent troll, the bare right to sue, a weapon made from pure abstract legal energy, untethered from any object, product or service that might be vulnerable to another IP owner's weapons.
A coda: you may recall that Apple doesn't use DRM on its music anymore: you can play Itunes music on any device. That wasn't a decision Apple took voluntarily: it was forced into it by a competitor: Amazon, an unlikely champion of user rights.
In 2007, the record labels had figured out that Apple had lured them into a trap, selling millions of dollars worth of music that locked both listeners and labels into the Itunes ecosystem.
In a desperate bid for freedom, they agreed to help Amazon launch its MP3 store - all the same music, at the same prices...without DRM. Playable on an Ipod, but also on any other device.
Prior to the Amazon MP3 store, the market was all DRM: you could either buy Apple's DRM music and play it on your Ipod, or you could buy other DRM music and play it on a less successful device.
The Amazon MP3 store (whose motto was "DRM: Don't Restrict Me") changed that to "Buy Apple DRM music and play it on your Ipod, or buy Amazon music and play it anywhere." That was the end of Apple music DRM.
So why hasn't anyone done this for the apps that Apple extracts the 30% tax on? IP. If you made a phone that could play Ios apps, Apple would sue you:
https://gizmodo.com/judge-tosses-apple-lawsuit-against-iphone-emulator-in-b-1845967318
And if you made a device that let you load non-App Store apps on an Iphone, Apple would also sue you.
Apple understands IP. It learned the lesson of the Amazon MP3 store, and it is committed to building a world where every creator pays a tax to reach every Apple customer.
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Five Tom Riddle Crossover Fics to Read
Tom Riddle is a difficult character to ship. For those of us who want to see pairings beyond the Big Two (Tomarry and Tomione), canonical options peter out relatively quickly. Sure, we can invent our own pairings by fleshing out side characters, but sometimes, the itch is best scratched by borrowing from another canon.
And it makes sense for Tom more than nearly anyone else in HP. Tom was born into an era that is the subject of so much literature, so it’s easy to find another person kicking around postwar Europe if that’s your goal. He’s an archetypal character, the villain seeking immortality, and can be matched against other villains with the same aims. Hell, even his quest to recover lost artifacts turns into the basis for two of these works—Tom Riddle has the perfect combination of a recognizable context and character model, plus the ambiguity of his canon timeline, to slot him alongside so many other fictional figures.
I want to pause on some of these themes for a second. Immortality or relationship to age, for one, is something that comes up in three of these pairings: the Darkling and Koschei the Deathless are both immortal characters in their own canons, and Edmund Pevensie is not immortal but has aged and de-aged repeatedly in his travels to and from Narnia. The HP series doesn’t give us nearly this wealth of different perspectives on age and immortality, which is fair—HP makes it clear that immortality is unnatural and undesirable, and Flamel is notably a ‘good person’ because of his willingness to accept his own death—but for a character as obsessed with the idea as Tom, some emotions can only be explored when you match him with another character who has a complicated relationship to aging. Even someone like Indiana Jones, not immortal and not trying to be, has an interesting perspective to bring to a story because he has seen so many other quests for power gone terribly awry.
Of course, the other thing we get from crossover pairings is the ability to match Tom with a villainous character. And whether you’re a fan of conflict at the start of a relationship or not, I think there’s something to be found in putting two villains together: moral arguments, when they exist, are rarely about whether death is necessary but about what kinds of death are best used when; the entire concept of either a redemption arc or a breaking bad arc can be thrown out a window. It’s a space wherein our two villains are allowed to be themselves, and the reveal of the extent of each character’s villainy becomes a strange form of celebration. This is challenging to achieve if one sticks to HP canon alone, whereas crossovers are a fruitful space.
My selection methodology was to read every crossover fic with a clear focus on Tom Riddle or Voldemort on AO3. I found crossover pairings by visiting the meta pages for the Tom Riddle, Voldemort, and Tom Riddle | Voldemort tags—I may have missed some pairings for Tom Riddle, as the character has over 300 child relationship tags and AO3 cuts off at 300 displayed. If you know of any ships I missed and should check out, do tell! I’ll also make a note here that one of these fics is my own—if self-recs bother you, skip Bluebird.
The following five fics are ordered by wordcount. Let me know what you think!
Neurotic Virtuosi, by skazka
Crossover: Hannibal Rising (movie version). The wizarding world exists, and Tom and Hannibal encounter each other in non-magical Eastern Europe.
Summary: Tom and Hannibal ride the same train when Tom is hunting down the diadem. Tom shares an apple and thinks about keeping Hannibal.
Mature, <1k, Graphic Torture Fantasies
Why?: This is one of those pairings that I wouldn’t have thought to do when the characters were both young, but it’s so much better for that choice! The length of this fic means we only get a taste of their interactions, but what a taste it is. Tom’s internal fantasies are horrifying and described in a very erotic way, which fits both characters.
This also serves as an interesting vision of what Tom might have experienced during his world tour to find the diadem, a period we rarely get to see. I particularly like that the author chose to write it as frustrating and mostly fruitless; a Tom who is stymied and unsuccessful is a particular weakness of mine.
Two Sides of the Same Coin, by Anonymous
Crossover: Chronicles of Narnia. Both Hogwarts and Narnia are real, and the characters meet in Britain. The magic isn’t the same, but there’s mutual recognition.
Summary: Tom tries to use sex to seduce secrets out of Edmund. Edmund sees something reminiscent of his younger self, the version of him who could join the White Witch, in Tom Riddle.
Explicit, 2k
Why?: Edmund and Tom are a pairing made in crossover heaven, both boys of a similar age born into war in the same country and whose discoveries of magical worlds help them escape it. Both lust for power and make poor choices; Edmund canonically recovers and finds redemption from his actions, and Tom does not.
This fic wears the hat of something pure smut, starting in the middle of a sex scene and tagged with top/bottom roles, etc., and it is that and does that well. But give it a shot for Edmund’s reflection at the end, his hopeful musings that he can apply the lessons learned from Aslan to help Tom before Tom’s utterly lost. It’s a crossover ship with unbelievable potential for both characters, and this fic makes me want so much more.
Shedding Skin, by electric_typewriter
Crossover: Deathless by Catherynne M. Valente. Both the wizarding world and the magic of Deathless exist.
Summary: Tom meets Koschei before splitting his soul. They keep meeting, and Tom keeps attempting to match Koschei’s immortality.
Not Rated, 2k
Why?: Immortality via relocation or storage of souls is an idea that easily predates Harry Potter as a series, and seeing two different versions of the some core idea interacting with one another is precisely what crossovers exist to enable. Koschei as an immortal being that found his immortality in a way he considers superior is a fascinating concept, because it creates a power imbalance between them that leaves Tom always running to catch up. And Tom, poor Tom, feels like a desperate man, finding sensation only when he’s around Koschei and feeling nothing at any other time.
This reads a bit like you’re dissociating. The author uses descriptive language to keep the reader a little distant from the grounded reality of the events happening, which has the effect of keeping you focused on the metaphysical question of what it means to have part of a soul.
Bluebird, by Phantomato
Crossover: Shadow and Bone. S&B summoning powers instead of HP magic, set in the real world, with characters’ histories preserved.
Summary: Tom is the second sun summoner to exist, born long after the first gave up her powers and lived out her natural life. He tracks down the Darkling, the shadow summoner who never really died.
Explicit, 17k
Why?: Tom is an immortal being for at least part of his life, and his character arc is about pursuit of immortality, but he is fundamentally a young immortal, and is killed before he can graduate to old immortality. Aleksander, the Darkling, is canonically an old immortal, and his character arc is about the burden of living with the knowledge that you will likely always be alone. That loneliness sets the scene for the relationship between Tom and Aleksander, driving Aleksander’s behavior—he fundamentally believes he will always be alone, even an immortal like Tom passes through his life.
There is a high proportion of smut in this, serving in place of the emotional honesty that neither character can muster, and I recommend it for that. But the story also relies on investment in quiet everyday moments shared between the characters. It’s a fic told through behavior because both men are so cautious around one another, where they nevertheless manage to find sympathy for the other.
Riddles of the Dead, by Maeglin_Yedi
Crossover: Indiana Jones. Blends together the wizarding world and the mysticism present in Indiana Jones films.
Summary: Tom Riddle hires an expert archaeologist and gentleman adventurer, Dr. Indiana Jones, to help him pursue an artifact that might grant him immortality. There’s fucking, fighting, magic, snakes, and some difficult choices in store for our leading men.
Explicit, 18k, Angst
Why?: Maeglin Yedi has been a mainstay of the Tom Riddle/Lord Voldemort ficspace for nearly two decades, but an old crossover like this can unfortunately slip through the cracks. It shouldn’t! With an original publishing date in early 2005, this predates the concept of horcruxes, the knowledge of Tom’s early years at Wool’s orphanage, and, well, so much of what we would eventually learn about Tom Riddle as a person. It’s a testament to the author that the story manages to capture Tom’s character in such a way that he’s still fully recognizable to a current-day reader, despite working with so much less canon.
This fic is fun. It’s an adventure, featuring hazards and traps and assassination attempts that you would expect from an Indiana Jones film, but the magic and mystery never overwhelms the relationship at the core of this story. It’s set up beautifully, with a mirrored structure between the front and back halves of the fic that foreshadows the inevitable end of the story. Watching older, confident Indy seduce young, hungry Tom is a delight. One (possible) mark of a great Tom-centric fic, imo, is to be able to portray Tom enjoying the exchange of power, giving it to someone as well as taking it from them, and this Tom is able to revel in giving up some perceived power as he practices being vulnerable with Indy. The romance is quite sweet, especially considering that ‘angst’ tag at the top of the fic!
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Ducktales Comics: Spies Like Us and Dime after Dime or Weblena: The Preschool Days (Lena Retrospective) (Comissioned by WeirdKev27)
Hello all you happy people and welcome back to Shadow Into Light, My Lena Retrospective, which fittingly has now come to Women’s History Month! I sadly do not have anything besides this arc prepared for the month. This month is pretty packed for me with two shows a week to cover, as while there’s only two weeks of Ducktales left final space starts up right after to take it’s spot, two arcs to cover, and two time specific movie reviews: animal crossing the movie and the 1990 TMNT film. I will try to get more than the currently planned top 12 superheroines list out there... but this month is very tight as is, so if I do not I deeply apologize.
Now that’s out of the way, it’s appropriate we start Women’s history month on some likely lesser known parts of Lena’s history, with some comics stories focusing on our faviorite emo lesbian duck and her 87 counterpart. Before I get started on that though Kev my patreon pointed out something intresting a few weeks back i’ve been forgetting to get to and since we’re looking into Minima, I felt this was the perfect time to do so: Lena’s Concept art.
There’s quite a few things to gleam from this. For starters as pointed out in the reddit thread I got the image as a whole from this was made in 2015, meaning Lena was one of the first new characters designed for the series and was part of it from the VERY early stages, as evidenced by the fact that despite clearly having their new personalities established, Beakly and Webby still had the old designs.
The other notable change is that her first design was way more like both Magica nad Minima, a bit more modern, but clearly far more obvious who she was related to. She also had all black feathers making the shadow twist a bit more obvious and was likely done away with both to avoid giving that twist away, the same reason for the fake lestrange name, and to avoid accidently black coding her, as while Lena being black would’ve been intersting, it also would’ve invited a firestorm of controversy given that their one black character in season 1.. woul’dve started off as a homeless, manipulative antagonist, and none of that would play well nor was it something the progressive crew of this show couldn’t spot from a mile away. And even this early on they have an almost final design ready, simply changing the shirt to fit her personality more, and her hair to be pink because it honestly looked better She also had green eyes throughout, but for whatever reason they phased them out. That part I don’t quite get as they look nice but probably they were hard to translate to the reboot style once they settled on their own. Her purple eyeshadow and haircut though have stuck since and were good calls.
One last VERY obvious note.. Webby was gay for Lena from minute one. While Dana helped it is now VERY obvious they gay coded this relationship from the design phase, and the crew was entirely aware the whole time and I gave them less credit than I should have. They clearly had this in mind, and it’s very likely ONLY subtext because Disney, while making more and more progress, is very reluctant to have queer characters as Owl House was a struggle and since they have a tighter leash on properites based on the sensational 6, that means Frank knew they had the same odds of making Webby or Della queer in anything but subtext that a pig has of suviving in a slaughterhouse. I bring this up because I fear the series getting accused of queerbaiting somewhere down the road instead of doing what they could with a bad hand and hoping they could make the show as gay as they could. Penny is as out as they posisbly could get her, and Violet and Lena’s dad’s got a full apperance, if no speaking role that made it obvious beyond a shadow of a doubt their gay and did it in a plot important episode. So they did their best and I want them to get credit for that.
But while this is all intresting stuff, join me under the cut for the meat of today’s review as I dig into Lena’s only apperance in the tie-in comic that was never punished here, and the only apperance of her protoype Minima.
Spies Like Us: As I mentioned this comic was never published here which is doubly weird to me because of how I knew this story existed. Since I follow comics weekly and buy trades reguarly, I read the solicits companies put out eveyr month to see what new series are coming, what the ones i’m currently reading are doing, and what trades are coming out. That sort of thing, and it’s something I love. I know their basically adds.. but their well put together adds that really pull you into the books you like. The big two and the indies are all very good at it and sometimes i’ts the only way to know a comic is coming if the company dosen’t make a press release for it ahead of time.
So naturally given there are several comics I follow at idw, paticuarlly the TMNT comics, I read those solicits and found they were going to do an issue with Webby and Lena becoming spies, and was excited about it. I ended up forgetting about it and never really followed the Ducktales comic as it came out, and upon reading an issue or two recently, one for another comission by kev as one story, happy happy valley, was particularly terrible. For those who haven’t read the story or my review, it involved the family getting stranded on an island where their forced to partake in activites and smile..that somehow turned into an aseop about Louie wanting to be rich. It ended with this
Yes.. really. That actually happened. But even with this, I fully planned to cover the issue when I covered Lena, and brought it up to Kev when he commissioned the retrospective. He gave me the discord equilvent of a blank stare and had never heard of it. I soon found out why: the story was replaced as, and fair play to disney, it spoiled Beakly’s past from the agent 23 episode which wasn’t going to air in time. What dosen’t work is they never reprinted the story in The US.. didn’t put it in a future issue and just swap it’s place didn’t put it in the nothing. And the story was fully complete as we’ll see, with a cover and everything so they had no excuse whatsoever to NEVER use it, even with what happened to Lena in the season finale, this clearly took place before that and it was weird to just shelve it because of that. But thankfully when a bunch of the stories were reprinted overseas, this and another one, also webby centric got published overseas. But not in english.
Lucky for me, I was able to find an english translation of an english story which you can read RIGHT HERE. It was translated by @neopuff and I thank them for it as without them this review would not be possible and want to give them all the credit. So was it worth all their hard work translating it? Well let’s take a look.
We begin at the Manor where Lena is skulking around suspiciously.. though it turns out she and Webby are just playing hide and seek. Though Lena accuses cheating. The dialouge here is pretty flat though that’s not Neopuff’s fault at all. As I can attest from reading other stories a lot of the early IDW comics are just this flat in dialoguge no matter the writer as they were likely given character descriptions and basic info about the show they likely had written up for merchandising and Frank and Co were given no involvement and likely weren’t made avaliable to consult on the comics to help them be a bit more fleshed out. It’s very obvious to me Disney just tried to get these pumped out so they’d have a series in stores to tie in without carring about qualities and given Scrooge debuted in comics, their lack of care toward that side of things in general, but especially in the first american published original duck comics in a while, bothers me a lot. It’s inexcusable.
That being said the story isn’t half bad nor is the setup as the two hear a beeping and find it’s Beakly’s phone going off with a mysterious message from Q, Webby thinks she’s been reactivated, and is encouraged by Lena to go look after her while she stays along. While Webby says in response
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It just feels grossly out of character for both. Lena is far more subtle about manipulation as shown five minutes ago and Webby blindly trusts her. Because she has a massive crush on her and is naïve about how the world works. It just seems very odd of her to get suspicious as she never does on screen, and again it comes off as Disney having barely given the writers any materials on them when i’m sure Frank or Matt would’ve been happy to write up a thing for them to help outside of the usual press materials they were given.
Though hte last line isn’t all that out of character and has an obvious answer as within a jumpcut Launchpad’s taking them to London and is told to blend in.. which he does with an australian flag and accent.. good gag.
So our heroines do some heroic breaking and entering and look for the package, but soon find while hiding it’s already in transit.. and had obvious bows on int. Whoops. Our heroes trie the old follow tha tcar bit and refreshingly, it dosen’t pan out as the guy stops and tells them to get out. A nice twist. Unable to follow, our heroes instead find launchpad lost, as his map is upside down
So Lena dares him if he can follow that plane, a nice bit of character for both. I will give Joe credit. While the dialouge’s a bit flat and there was that out of character moment.. for the most part he does nail the actual character down and does use it decently enough. He’s just not given enough page room or actual details to work with is all.
So while our heroes follow they end up having to crash as they run out of fuel.. lucky their with the expert but end up near home where the package is delivered to. Turns out this wasn’t a spy thing, this was just a thing with her aunt. That’s fine and a nice gag.. it’s just ruined by just sorta.. ending. Lena leaves disapointed and Beakly scolds webby for “playing spy” and she’s sad. That’s it that’s how it ends. Which dosen’t fit the characters, as while Beakly would defintely scold her, it just dosen’t FIT that she’d be that tearse or not appricate the effort or give her an actual lecture and it feels like Joe had no idea how to end this after the gag and just.. ended it.
Final Thoughts for Spies Likes Us: This was okay. It is a bit of a disappointment as for the only story not available.. i’ts just okay and not really above an average Ducktales comics story, with some nice character bits but feeling a bit weak overall, as do at least the first half of the idw comics. I haven’t read the later stuff to see if it got better. It’s worth a read if you like Webby and Lena as characters and it’s not BAD, it’s just not anything impressive and is a simple hyjinks filled misunderstanding story.
Dime After Dime:
So now we go back a bit to the original. I didn’t do these in chronological order because frankly, Dime after Dime is the better story of the two and the bigger one at that, so I have more to work with here. But the original also had comics and honestly from the few i’ve read much BETTER comics. I chalk this up to two things: The Ducktales 87 comics seem to have come out AFTER the series was already a hit, and since Ducktales is pretty close to the original uncle scrooge comics minus it’s own tweaks here and there, it’s easy enough to just write the stories like you would a regular uncle scrooge story, just with Webby and Launchpad added, whereas the idw writers were staffed with writing for all new versions of the characters with noticable differences without much to go on. It’s why to me with tie in comics you have two options: Wait long enough so you can put your story inbtween the episodes like the Steven Universe and Regular Show comics did or just make your own continuity entirely like the Adventure Time Comics and the Archie TMNT Adventures series did. The ONLY time i’ve seen a comic work like this is the Bravest Warriors comic, which had a talented writer and fit well enough in the margins until it sadly ended.. and honestly is BETTER in some cases than the series. I might get to it someday. The point is this comic shows why you need to have a deft hand adapting something instead of just falling your arms about and hoping it’ll work.
So today’s comic was part of some Disney Series called cartoon tales, which clearly repackaged comic stories from wherever, and put them together. I don’t know much about it and the only other issue avaliable collects the disney adventures adaptation of “Just Us Justice Ducks”, which I might cover at some point. This book does have two other stories which i’d be happy to do on comission or on my own at some point, one involving gladstone the other gizmoduck, but for now, i’m just sticking to the title story and the reason you all came here.
So we open with Magica gazing into her crystal ball from her Mt. Vesuvies base saying that Scrooge will never know what hit him I know exactly what and who wiil hit him thank you very much.
Scrooge is seeing Webby off to her first day of day camp, getting all teary eyed which is touching. Beakly apparently goes with her as the story never SAYS Sshe does but she’s not also not around when the story moves on, as Launchpad says it looks like rain. Scrooge dismisses him, though Launchpad turns out to be right. Scrooge had good reason for once though, instead of just being a dick good on you comic for making me not want to punch him in the face, trust me that is a high bar to clear with the scrooge comics, as the weather was fine just a minute ago. Naturally it was Magica All Along! Nothing scrooge can do now that eveyrthing has gone wrong! Her entrance though is sadly not a catchy earwormy tune, but .. this confusing line
I think your thinking of Gladstone. And he’s still single so.. have at that but no Scrooge is the one who values hard work over anything else and brags about THAT or being rich. I .. I don’t get this line and frankly I don’t want to. Even in stories where the dime is supernaturally lucky and the source of his wealth he dosen’t boast about it because he’s not stupid and dosen’t want everyone knowing how to bankrupt him instantly. This line will baffle me until I die, presumably, given my life’s tragetctory, after reviewing an episode of mighty ducks and slipping on some a jerky wrapper.
Scrooge asks what she wants...
No this isn’t that kind of story sadly. Her plan is to.. zap the bin with lightning and take the dime. Really just went with your first draft didn’t you magica? But as stupid as this plan is Scrooge has prepared for it. He installed a lightning rod on the bin to save on power, and to power his new super soaker traps. So all Magica did was save him money. She flies off and nothing is acomplished.
So we get back to Webby at the Teenie Weenie Day Camp.. and just so you don’t think that was a terrible joke on my part...
My theory for how this name got approved at all is the editor KNEW how that sounded and just wanted to see if Disney would actually print a comic with the phrase Teenie Weenie without getting what it means in slang or how hilariously inapproriate it is to namme a children’s camp after it.
Your probably wondering who that grown woman calling Webby a dweeb is. Well story wise, she’s SUPPOSED to be another kid at the camp around Webby’s age. In practice, she looks like THIS in closeup
So it looks and plays like a 30 year old woman snuck into the day camp and no one’s noticed she’s not actually a children. Or their just humoring her because she had a week to live. I don’t know. I do know she doesn’t get to judge on names.
Snippy Von Glitz, proof rich people really do hate their kids and this this comic is trying personally to give me material. Snippy is your average alpha bitch, taking a chair from Minma and being obnoxious and classist and all that jazz. Minima gets hers back by making the chair bouncy then returning it to normal so Snippy gets in trouble when she makes up things about the chair, with the lady in charge getting ready to call her Dad. You cannot convince me that her “Dad” is just what she calls her husband, this is how they both get off, and that the lady at the preschool only tolerates it because they pay her a lot and so far the kids haven’t noticed Snippy is 30. Webby likes minima finding her name pretty, proving that the ho yay is alive no matter the webby and magica relative, and Minma returns the favor by saving her from a block.
Minma is reluctant to make an actual friend, finding they aren’t worth anything and given most of the kids here apparently pick on her and her aunt is well.. Magica, it’s understandable why she’d be so cold. But Webby presses on and says something from Scrooge about friends. Which given Ducktales scrooge has none goes weird but it gets Minma to find out she knows and lives with Scrooge, so she cons webby into taking the dime for show and tell, showing that she can manipulate them with her powers, and that he won’t notice it’s missing, getting her with “I thought you wanted to be friends”
So let’s pause for a second and compare and contrast the two: Both are the niece, or at least sorta in Lena’s case, of Magica, both manipulate webby, and both are her first real friend: The 87 boys are little monsters and I don’t consider them friends or even brothers, while the 2017 ones are just that: brothers. Their her siblings in all but blood, not friends and have hteir own long complicated history.
But otherwise the two are vastly different. Lena is a far more complex character as she’s been abused her whole life, is a rebel because Magica hardly gave her agency, and while she starts wooing webby out of self interest it’s clear even as far as the first episode she cares. Lena would gladly be part of the world if she could and this whole scheme is to gain that choice.
Minma is still sympathetic but very different: She walls herself off because the other kids laugh and mock her for being herself and lashes out at them.. not unreasonably mind , but still feeling she needs no one else.. but as we’ll learn later she’s only helping Magica to finally feel accepted, to get all the fancy clothes and stuff that will make her popular instead of that grown woman masquerading as a kid for disturbing reasons. Minma is at her heart just a hurt kid desperate to fit in. And while Lena shares the desire for a place to belong.. it’s at it’s core much sadder. Lena.. wants a family. Someone to love her and to care about her and actually look after her. Minma has that she just wants to be loved. it’s similar but very diffrent and I can see why Lena evolved into what she did, as Frank and Matt ended up going in a far darker but ultimately more interesting direction. Minima is not a bad character at all though and without her I don’t think we would’ve had Lena, but at the end of the day the 87verse is just not that complicated, so the reboot needed something more and that more evolved into who we have now.
Both kids excitedly talk about their new friends, with their respective guardians being distracted. Scrooge is distracted by the fact his car is a bit bumpy and Launchpad offers to fix it up for free with some parts from a buddy, which given the sentence “This won’t cost you anything” makes him erect, Scrooge agrees. Magica meanwhile, whose watching Minima while her mom is away which raises a LOT of questions we don’t have time for like who she is, is she’s poes wife or does Magica have other siblings... it’s a lot of questions we’re never going to get answers to.
The next day Webby got the dime easy as Scrooge was distracted. so Minima swaps them while she’s distracted. But while swiping it was easy, which to be fair Webby is likely approved in his security so it woudln’t match her.. or the story just needed to progress. You make the call.
Magica does the logical thing and goes and get sthe dime and the story ends there.. and i’m shitting you, she of course brags to scrooge, reveals minima as her spy, and offers to RACE him for it shortly after he realizes he has a fake.
The only major flaw in this story is Magica’s overconfdience, which isn’t BAD persay, but here has gotten to dumbass proportions. She just can’t plan for anything and a CHILD has a better plan than her that only dosen’t work for reasons we’ll get to. And that plan is almost ruined by Magica taunting scrooge!
So a race is on but Launchpad has transformed Scrooge’s old Model T into this
Damn that’s cool. Scrooge of course dosen’t like it, but honestly you get what you paid for. Oh that’s right you paid nothing for something you NEED to use every day for transportation.
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At the rickity thickity bridge, Steve Buschemi’s worst roll and her minion ask Webby to roll with them and Minima mistakes this for betrayal planning to soak them all.. only for Webby to DEFEND HER, pointing out minma’s her friend, how she dresses is fine and she loves her no matter what.. the last part’s implied. The 30-year old asshole and her minon leave Webby and Minma is genuinely touched, as no one’s done that for her before. She put up so many walls... she didn’t realize someone could ACTUALLY care about her, so obessed with thinking she had to be like that soccer mom in preschoolers clothing, she just had to be herself: kinda werid but in that fun adams family way. Webby says she knows Minma would do the same.. so while she prepares to let’s get back to the race. Magica realizes Launchpad’s roadster is actually gaining and spreads some tacks, but Scrooge counters with some money.. because of course he has a lot of money in the trunk. But Magica takes out the bridge and while scrooge awesomely JUMPS IT... he’s still too late.
As you probably guess though, Minima had a change of heart, and gave Webby the real dime back, and Scrooge confirms it. Minima TRIES to tell Magica, and Magica is horrified her niece is a goody goody “I”ll never hear the end of it at my astral aerobics class”.. I.. I want to see that. Let’s raise those spirit ladies and kick kick that soul, doge that shadow king punch them in the soul. Yes! Now eat it eat it and absorb it’s power!
We end on a button joke as Webby apologizes for taking the dime., Scrooge accepts it and Webby tells them magica learned to carpet and they gulp for some reason.
Final Thoughts on Dime after Dime: This story was decent. It has problems, some jokes don’t land and Magica is made horribly incompetent, but minima’s character arc is endearing, and Webby herself is precious as always and her winning Minima over feels genuine. And Scrooge is in prime adoring uncle mode with her and i’ts just so cute. And the roadster race is pretty awesome to watch honestly. It’s an exceptional and enjoyable tie in story.. and not the last ducktales 87 story we’ll be covering here. Wink wonk.
Next Time: Things get DARK as Lena and Webby head into the depths of Scrooge’s hidden bin and Lena heads into the depths of her own soul.
Tommorow: Woo-Ooo mofos as we go back to the very beginning of the reboot! A family restored, a lost city to explore, and a glomgold rises! Be here or be square.
#ducktales#ducktales 1987#webbigail vanderquack#lena saberwing#weblena#minima de spell#magica de spell#bentina beakly#launchpad mcquack#scrooge mcduck#dime after dime#spies like us#idw#comics#animation#shadow into light
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milk + instagram live (t.h.)
I traveled to London (and Oxford), England in March of 2019 for my spring break my sophomore year of university, so some things mentioned here are entirely from personal experience, so please don’t hate me if you’ve experienced something different! I stayed at a hotel in between West Kensington and West Brompton (a few blocks away from West Brompton Station) and one day some family members and I decided to attend a local showing at a cinema nearby and it was SO. DIFFERENT. than the theaters I had been to in the States. IDK, maybe it was just me. The entire experience was like culture shock again in the few days I had been there, so I had to bring that up in this little piece. Also the thing about milk is something I have genuinely wondered about, cause I’ve heard it’s different in England than it is in the USA, but I may be wrong. Let me know! Anyways, I have big love for London (and supreme love for Oxford, sorry) and I’m looking forward to going back someday soon!
The reader is non-celebrity and American, so I’m sorry if that feels exclusionary to any of you, honestly! I thought this might be just a little fun jaunt because I don’t really write real person fiction. Just a bit of fluff.
Sorry for this long intro. Enjoy and let me know what you think! xo
Word Count: ~1.5k
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It’s some sort of exclusive interview for a magazine or something of the sort, you’ve been told; a collection of questions they want you to answer to publish somewhere, to print as something special for one of Tom’s things. That’s all you know. It’s just something you agreed to do after his publicist had asked a few weeks ago. It wasn’t like you did this for a living, so there was an attitude of nonchalance about it all because if they ended up not liking it one bit, they could scrap it all and no harm, no foul.
“Now,” the interviewer begins, a man in his 40′s with balding hair and a slightly crooked nose, sitting in the chair across from you, “I know you just announced that you got married, so congratulations, firstly--”
“Oh, thank you,” hands folded on your lap, smiling sweetly. You know people want their well-wishes to be heard and recorded, but sometimes it’s easy to imagine a completely private life, fame free, in which this isn’t the biggest news in the world (or just the biggest news for a day in the entertainment industry in the United States and England); a life where this is just a normal thing that normal people decide on, there’s a celebration, and that’s really it. It’s not splashed on newspapers and trending on Twitter, even though that can be a fun thing.
“I’ve been really happy these last few months since we got married and was excited to tell all of Tom’s Instagram followers,” there’s a break for a small laugh from you, “There’s been such an abundance of well wishes from everyone and I’ve felt so incredibly lucky because I know not every woman who has been in my position has recieved such a reception.”
The interviewer gives a move of his head in recognition of your words, but his eyes are already flying down the paper he holds in front of him, “There have been quite a few changes that have happened, I’ve been informed, and the first is that you decided to move to London!”
“Ha, yes,” you begin, nodding, “Not only did I just completely intertwine my life with another person’s, but I moved to an entirely new country. There’s definitely a lot of culture shock that has happened these past few months.”
The interviewer kind of chortles along with you, but the awkwardness has already settled in and you can feel it because you are the literal worst at small talk. And that’s all this interview is.
“Any cons you’ve listed already about residing here amongst us?”
“Oh no,” you groan dramatically, trying to lighten up the mood, a hand coming to cover your eyes for a moment, “you have to promise not to tell my husband, because I do have a few things actually.”
“I make no promises, as this interview will be completely up for grabs,” The man holds up his hands and you’re a little disappointed that he doesn’t seem to want to play along with the joke.
You brush it off, though, because he’s either nervous or he’s here for a few questions to be answered and then he wants to be out of here. You get it; you have a job, too, that sometimes squeezes the patience out of you.
“Well for one, the local cinemas are just set up so different than the ones I went to all the time in the States. I still have to prepare myself for the experience every time,” there’s a little bit of an awkward pause.
“We have different cinemas?” He asks, like he’s suspecting something more; something deeper. Maybe he wants something more scandalous? You nod along, though, smiling softly at his confusion. It has always felt funny trying to explain this.
“And I miss people smiling at me in public, on the tube or in the more crowded public spaces where I don’t really know anyone. People are literally so lovely when they invite me into their homes to eat with them and stuff like that, but I’ve only got one reaction from someone for smiling at them. Most of them just stare for a second or ignore me entirely! I don’t know, maybe it’s just me.”
He shrugs, not quite sure what to say to that, because he’s not at fault for it. It seems most people know what you’re talking about when you say this and you’ve garnered that it’s a cultural thing for the most part. You don’t fault anyone for it.
“Also,” your hand comes to scratch at a place above your left eyebrow, “I know this is weird, and I don’t even know if it’s entirely true, but I haven’t drank milk in the months since I’ve moved here because I heard in America that milk is made differently here or something like that. I haven’t been able to gather up the courage to find out if it’s true or not, and I mostly drink water or juice or whatever else so my husband hasn’t bat an eye yet. I just don’t want to ruin my previous experience with milk,” You shrug your shoulders and laugh. Your hands come unclasped and you hold them out in a surrender-like gesture.
Your final answer seems to startle the interviewer, because his laugh is surprised and maybe a bit shocked and leaves just as quickly as it came. The rest of the short conversation, lasting only a few more minutes, continues smoothly. After sitting around in the office for a little while longer, you are free from the place and from (hopefully) ever having to do this again without Tom. Your schedule is blissfully empty for the rest of the day, a Saturday, so you eventually make your way home.
- -
“What’s this I hear about your fear of English milk?” The door opens first and then the voice follows.
Of course, that would be the first thing he says to you after a whole day of not seeing each other.
“Good evening, darling, how was your day?” You quip from the couch, what’s left of your cup of tea gone cold on the coffee table parallel to it. “Oh my day was fine, Tom. I’m glad you’re the one who does the regular rounds with the press, not me, because I was so awkward today. How was yours?”
You hear his keys clink against something, probably the kitchen counter, and then the rustle of a bag. It takes a second but then you see his hands grip to top of the sofa as he leans down towards you. There’s a quick kiss that comes before he rights himself. The marital bliss has not faded away yet given that adoring look in his eyes. It is the same look he gave you standing right across from you the day of your wedding, the same one you saw four months ago on your honeymoon, and the one he gave you last night while getting ready for bed as he brushed his teeth.
“I got something from the shop on my way home,” He wiggles his eyebrows and you know some part of you saw this coming from a mile away.
You know now that the shop means the grocery store because a few months ago you had asked him what the term meant (“it’s so vague, though,” “darling, I’m not going to waste my breath calling it the ‘grocery store.’”). (There are still many British terms you have yet to learn.) You allow yourself to sit up and then turn around to meet him as your knees come to dig into the cushions. Now you both are almost at the same height.
“God, I hate you,” You chuckle, leaning towards him.
“The ring on your finger says otherwise, love,” You roll your eyes but then press an elongated kiss to his lips. There’s a few moments where he gets some in down your neck and behind your ear before he pulls away.
“C’mon,” He says, pulling your arms and almost vaulting you over the couch and onto the cold, hard floor, “to the kitchen we go! You need to drink some milk.” It takes a few more minutes for you both to actually get there, but then he grabs the carton from the bag and a glass from a kitchen cupboard.
He pours a little at the bottom of the glass, not even filling it up a quarter of the way. Part of you wants to shudder, part of you is feeling adventurous enough to be excited. But then he pulls his phone from the pocket of his jeans and asks if he can go live on Instagram. For a moment you consider saying no, simply because you’re not sure if you want to open yourself up to the world of Tom’s Instagram followers watching you try your first taste of non-American milk, but then you decide “why not?” It can’t do any real harm, right?
Tom hands the glass to you and you place it on the counter in front of you as you sit down at a stool. You can see the moment on his face the live video starts and a second later he quickly explains the situation.
It does not take you much longer to become a viral internet meme.
#tom holland x reader#tom holland x oc#tom holland x original character#tom holland x you#tom holland x y/n#tom holland fluff#tom holland one shot#tom holland oneshot#tome holland preference#tom holland fanfiction
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Mia Asking Jason About His Feelings For Roy While Cooking
Summary:
Mia asking Jason about his feelings for Roy while cooking, and Jason didn’t deny it.
Notes:
English isn’t my native spoken language so there can be grammatical errors.
This snippet is from an originally planned fiction revolving around Roy, Jason and Mia with Mia being the witness of Royjay’s developing relationship. I may never find a chance to finish their story so I will just post moments that I enjoyed writing while picturing their world. Hope you enjoy.
Published on AO3: https://archiveofourown.org/works/33110860
——
It wasn’t Mia's turn to cook today, but not like she minded it and all. She’s in a good mood lately given how well the day job has turned out, and the camaraderie she’s developed with the colleagues at work.
To be frank, the two other housemates’ cooking skills just weren’t satisfying. Jason was alright, if he really paid attention and invested his time to cook. Same cannot be said for Roy, however, who was an entirely different story. The only edibles on his menu might just be that ham and cheese sandwich he seemed to be barely able to assemble.
Mia hummed in joy while she poured her lasagna sauce into a rectangular Le Creuset, which had already been layered with some pre-made lasagna sheets. She raised her eyes to look at Roy who’s sitting across the kitchen island, while still preserving her attention down at the stoneware.
“I never knew you’d be so interested in a wooden door before.” Mia chuckled.
Roy seemed to be dragged out of his lost thoughts and back to the world by her voice, quickly moving away his glaze, looking a little embarrassed. He’d been fixed to the stool he’s sitting on and stared at Jason’s bedroom door with his head rested in his elbow in the same position for quite a while, even the oven had been pre-heated.
Mia continued to work on layering sheets and pouring the mixture from the saucepan, the warm steam spreading the fresh smell of tomato, garlic, slightly caramelized pork and veal bolognese along with other goodness that’s been well combined into the open air kitchen. She kept her head down while going on, “Figured what’s getting into your head. Now that James and I are dating, Jason seems like about to start one himself, you’d be thinking of finding someone to hang out with too?”
Roy admitted almost immediately, let go of an unnoticeable sigh for Mia seemed to not be aware what’s really going on in his mind. “Didn’t you always mention that girl… the one on that team you and Dick were on back then, was it Danielle?” “Donna.” “Donna. Anyway. I don’t know, maybe you can try contacting her again?” Roy looked a little confused by her suggestion. “Donna… she’s a partner and a good friend that’s all. Also I haven’t caught up with the Titans for quite some time.” “But there is always a chance out there somewhere, right?”
By now Roy seemed to have lost interest in this topic, and just shook his head towards the room that Jason was in, and steered the conversation back to what’s happening in there. “You can’t know… that girl, she came here and was after Jason…” Mia knew what he’s going on and about, “If you ask me, well, from a female perspective, what she’s after from Jason could not have been any more obvious.”
Just a little less than half an hour ago, a silver white long haired girl walked in from the front door of their apartment without giving any heads up, she promptly glanced over the room, including Roy who was laying on his back in the couch at the time, and Mia who’s busy preparing their dinner behind the counter. She briefly studied the situation, confirmed with the cook which bedroom was Jason’s, then dashed and disappeared into that room with a not-so-gentle bang as she closed the door, leaving Roy and Mia completely dazzled and curious.
Roy exchanged looks with Mia as he got up. He thought that girl looked familiar before he remembered that he, or rather, him and Jason had met her on the plane from Gotham back to Star City. She was sitting across the aisle, had started to strike a conversation with Jason around halfway of the flight. Roy hadn’t paid them too much attention as he curled up comfortably in his window seat and napped almost the entire time. When their plane had arrived and the seatbelt signs turned green, and Jason stood up to reach their backpack from the overhead bin, Roy saw the girl had slipped a thin piece of paper into the back-pocket of his jeans.
Roy had never seen her again after they got back home, until just now. He bet that Jason had contacted her without him and Mia knowing, and for Christ’s sake, he’d exposed their secret headquarters - an apartment on Winnick St that the three of them would scramble each month to come up with the rent for - to a stranger that hadn’t gone through their little gang’s trust test.
Mia saw him shuffled around yet eyes glued to that door, so she ordered him to buy some more basil leaves from the store that apparently her topping sauce is now short of. Roy groaned before leaving the apartment, still managed to strike a last look at that door that the girl has vanished into.
Some time later, the girl has finally decided to stomp out of that room again, she glimpsed over Mia, without saying a word then bounced across the communal space before walking right out, seemingly assuming oneself to be one of, otherwise, the owner of the house.
When Jason emerged just a little later too, Mia then stared at the ceiling and started talking at loud to herself, “Gotta be impressed with all the soundproof works of these walls, you can’t even hear a thing that you’d expected from the other side.”
Jason said that he and Roslyn merely spoke while in there and nothing more had happened. He looked around and asked where Roy is. Mia told him that she requested him to go to the shop and get her some more basils. Jason pondered on that. Mia figured out he’s gauging whether he should go out too, “I thought he might want some air for himself seeing that both his housemates are romantically involved in a relationship.” Jason started to look confused.
Mia thought to herself, Mia Deardon, don’t you screw this one up. She made an effort to calm her tone of voice before speaking up again. “That girl and you, aren’t you a thing or about to be?” She probed in a slightly joking way.
“A thing?” Jason now looked even more puzzled, as if this image of presumed future has never come across his mind before, “I don’t recall anything remotely like that ever discussed in our conversation.”
Mia stopped what she’s doing and pointed a silicon spatula at him, which was still covered with warm tomato chunks, “Jason, when you let a girl walk into your room, you should be prepared to provide her the chance of a mutually respectful association that is what we called a relationship, instead of just fooling around and walk away like a jerk.” Though in this particular scenario, the female individual seemed to matched that perona more, Mia had no intention of pointing that out.
“I’ve not even had a clue how she found this place, I thought she’s just some upper manager of a business, not some sort of a detective.”
Mia squinted her eyes, clearly not buying, “You know, usually a girl found out a guy’s address through a text message or a phone call.”
“Trust me, Mia, I’ve never even asked for her number.” Jason wiped his forehead and started to feel the angst up his gut, but he tried hard to not let it unleash upon Mia. “Do we have enough ingredients for tonight?” He indicated the kitchen bench filled with mixing bowls and food scraps with a nod. Mia gave it a thought, then answered, “We might have just run out of paprika, can you give Roy a ring and ask him to get a jar from the shop?”
“I’ll head down myself, don’t think he can hear the call right now.” Jason turned around to leave. Just when the door’s about to be opened, Mia called his name.
“Jason, do you love Roy?”
His hand on the doorknob came to a sudden halt. He paused for a second, “Why’d you say that?”
Mia took a deep breath, giving her best to not give away the fact that she’s rehearsed over and over what’s coming next. Instead of answering the question, she continued, “I’m not saying the kind of brotherhood you’d shared with Dick or your other partners from the cop shop, what I meant was something like Ollie and Dinah, like between me and James.”
Jason looked to be caught off guard with what she’s just said, and Mia for one was happy with how this whole situation had been going, as he at least didn’t just abruptly deny the question nor went on interrogating why the hell she’d stir up some shit like that. She heaved a sigh of relief, carefully thanking herself for the sharp observation and analysis she’d secretly inducted on themselves.
Jason looked at her, without saying a word, seemed to be still waiting for her to go on. So she did. “Roy is the kind of person that, how should I put this, would rather let his feelings sink than swim if you don’t show anything to him first. Probably why he and Ollie never saw each other eye to eye when they came across.” Jason nodded in agreement. “If he thinks that the other person doesn’t share a mutual feeling, I bet you he’d take it to his grave than ever speaking up about it.” This actually has contradicted to Roy’s impression on him, as he always saw the guy as carefree and weren’t shy about showing his affections towards the others, but Jason wasn’t going to oppose otherwise and just let Mia kept on.
“He had a crush on a girl in that crime fighting group he was in before, always claimed that he wasn’t good enough for her, so the girl never found out his feeling for her in the end.” Mia fixed her eyes on him, her spatula had now dropped to the bench surface as she leaned against the edge with both of her arms, looking at him demurely, “He’s recently acting more and more like that again. I don’t know about you, but here’s what I thought, if that other person this time at least showed him some sort of hints, maybe he wouldn’t have too many regretful undone deeds to carry with him to his tomb after all.”
Jason lowered his head and thought on that for a moment, his hand already loosen from the doorknob and he just noticed how his palm had been sweating all this long. He turned around to face Mia behind the island, who’d clearly done speaking and was waiting patiently for a response. Jason found her gaze again as he meticulously raised his eyes, “And you think this person… is… me?”
Mia grinned, “We both know that his current social life, or rather, his only life is devoted on bringing down that Merlin’s evil little scheme, which the whole operation comprises only two people, and he’s surprisingly one of them.” She could not have been clearer than that who the other person she’s referring to.
Jason couldn’t bring himself to let out of a word. There was too much to be said, too many questions bursting in his chest. When did Mia start to notice Roy’s altered behaviours as she described? How did she work out the confidence to ask him about it and not even worry that she might’ve been wrong? Did Roy ask her to feel him out, or was her perception of Roy’s feeling for him even legit?
“Jason, hello, someone in there?” His thought had been interrupted with her teases as he drown, “So let me ask again, Jason, do you love Roy? The kind of love like between Ollie and Dinah?”
The former Robin had let out a deep breath before cracking her a smile, “I’m gonna go get us some more paprika from the shop.” Then he opened the door and left the apartment.
None of the three housemates had ever demanded paprika when they had lasagna night, Jason knew better than that, and he secretly thanked Mia a thousand times as he sprinted downstairs.
——
End of snippet
End notes:
I draw Royjay fan arts from time to time, if you liked this story you’re welcome to also check them out on my Instagram: https://www.instagram.com/shashawip
#royjay#roy harper#jason todd#Mia dearden#dccomics#red hood and arsenal#red hood and the outlaws#arrowfam#team arrow#speedy#red hood#arsenal#green arrow#jayroy
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Big Bang (Sort of) Editing Story [Day 97]
I started writing this fic while editing my Big Bang story, but am going to continue doing it for other things now that Kill Dear is out. I will write and publish 100 words of the story every time I finish doing whatever task I’m doing. If you’d like to block these proceedings, please feel free to block the tag proofread stories. I will reblog this post with the parts of the story I do today. Edited chapters are linked; everything else I’ve done so far is under the cut.
My Master Post Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 Part 5 Part 6 Part 7 Part 8 Part 9 Part 10 Part 11 Part 12 Part 13 Part 14 Part 15 Part 16 Part 17 Part 18 Part 19 Part 20 Part 21 Part 22 Part 23 Part 24 Part 25 Part 26 Part 27 Part 28 Part 29 Part 30 Part 31 Part 32 Part 33 Part 34 Part 35 Part 36 Part 37 Part 38 Part 39 Part 40 Part 41 Part 42 Part 43 Part 44 Part 45
I have no idea how long I’ll work. I’m currently stuck waiting for a ride. So *big shrug.*
Chapter 46 (Patton)
Patton hadn’t been aware until Virgil came along what exactly Mr. Deknis did in the winter. Most of his staff had gone home or had winter tasks unrelated to gardening to do, but Mr. Deknis and a few choice members of his staff still apparently did a lot despite not being able to plant anything.
He frequently invited Virgil to join in on these tasks, and Virgil often accepted. Patton wasn’t sure why he seemed to enjoy things like deep cleaning gardening tools and checking over equipment, but he did, so Patton was glad.
“Alright, that’s enough of that for today,” Mr. Deknis said once Virgil finished brushing off the paste that had been applied to remove rust from a hoe.
“Are you sure?” Virgil asked. “I have more time to work. Even if you need to go, I can still work on something. Unless you don’t want me messing with things without supervision…”
“I’m not telling you to leave, Virgil,” Mr. Deknis said with a half-smile. “I just thought you might want to help me out with something else today.”
“Oh, okay. Sure,” Virgil agreed, sounding just a touch excited.
“Let’s put all of this away,” Mr. Deknis said.
Virgil and Patton helped him put things away, though Patton felt more like a hindrance as both Mr. Deknis and Virgil seemed to know exactly where everything in the room went whereas Patton wasn’t sure about some things.
Patton didn’t always come with Virgil when he was helping Mr. Deknis. Sometimes Logan would come instead, and Virgil had been coming alone with increasing frequency over the last month or so.
He seemed to like it. He always seemed to look forward to spending time with Mr. Deknis and not only because Mr. Deknis often bribed him with snacks of dried or pickled fruits and vegetables.
Once the tools and cleaning equipment were stored away, Mr. Deknis led them down the hall. Mr. Deknis had an entire hall to himself on the first floor of the castle which included his bedroom as well as places to dry and can things.
Where he was leading them now was a small study next to his bedroom. Patton had never been there before and by the way Virgil was curiously looking around, neither had he. It was a cute little area with a small desk and a bookshelf full of books that seemed to all be on plants.
“I’m starting to think about what I want to grow in the gardens next year,” Mr. Deknis explained as they crammed into the small office. He pointed to a large piece of paper on his desk. “This is the plan at the moment, though it’s nowhere near finalized.”
He pointed at an empty square sketched on the large paper. “I was thinking I wanted to plant something new here, but I don’t know what. It’s just a small patch between the vegetable and flower garden. It’s sort of by the one three teared fountain. I usually use that patch for newer plants, so it could be a vegetable or a flower. I was thinking you could help me pick out something to put there.”
Virgil looked up at him, eyes wide.
Mr. Deknis smiled at him. “Would you like to?”
“I…” Virgil said. “I wouldn’t have any idea what to put.”
“Well, I have a few different books of plants you can flip through,” he said. “Any idea what kind of plant you’d like to grow?”
Virgil shrugged.
“I’ll just give you a few for now,” Mr. Deknis said, selecting three different books. “If you can’t find anything you like, just let me know and I’ll give you another book. There are plenty of different types of things to grow. This is just a start.”
“Thank you,” Virgil said, eyes staring down at the field of flowers drawn on the cover of the book on the top of the stack in his arms.
They spent the afternoon on the floor of Mr. Deknis’ living room. The gardener made them some lavender tea and let them eat some candied walnuts and then retreated to an armchair to read his own book about plants.
Patton and Virgil laid on the floor flipping through the different books. Virgil still wasn’t very good at reading, so Patton would read the descriptions of the plants that caught his eye to him. One of the books was about different vegetables and one was about herbs, which of course, did catch Virgil’s attention a bit because of his love for edible things. Yet the pictures of flowers seemed to interest him the most.
They ended up eventually looking only in the flower book. A while after that, it became clear that he preferred flowers in the orchid family verses composite flowers because he liked the shape of their petals better. So, then they focused more on looking at the different types of orchids that existed.
“There are a lot more types of orchids than I knew there were,” Patton said.
“It’s the second largest family of flowers,” Mr. Deknis told them from his chair. “There’s a lot of different kinds, over 28,000 species at least. Vanilla comes from an orchid plant. If there are none in that book you especially want, I could get a book specifically on orchids.”
Virgil, having already flipped through the book multiple times looking at the orchids in it, looked up at him with a bit of excitement in his eyes. “I would like that,” he said. “Yes, please.”
Mr. Deknis’ eyes softened on him, and he got to his feet. “I’ll go see what I have in the office.”
“Getting to grow something in the garden is exciting,” Patton said once Mr. Deknis left.
“Yeah,” Virgil agreed. “It is.”
It was very nice of Mr. Deknis too, Patton thought. He didn’t have to offer to let Virgil plant something, in fact, him happening to have an empty patch in his plans was probably a little bit of a fib, but it was a nice one.
Virgil liked plants, and it would give him something to look forward to over the winter and then something to do in the spring and summer. Honestly, Patton couldn’t wait to see him experience the castle in the spring. He’d already loved it in the fall, let alone when things started to grow. Patton had a feeling he’d be spending a lot more time outside this summer.
Mr. Deknis came back with a good-sized book filled with pictures of flowers. “Why don’t you take this with you for tonight,” he suggested. “It’s almost dinner time. We can talk about it more when you come to help me again on Saturday.”
“Thank you,” Virgil said, taking the book. “I will see you Saturday then.”
“See you Saturday, Virgil,” he said with a smile.
Chapter 47 (Logan)
Logan and Virgil had gotten into the habit of having reading lessons in the afternoons 3 times a week. They would sit in the small library near the royal wing for an hour or two and do different things related to increasing Virgil’s literacy.
Logan had started with just teaching him letters, but he’d memorized those long ago at this point. Now, Logan would spend most of the time having him read simpler books out loud and correcting any mistakes he made along the way. Improvement was surprisingly fast, though in truth, Logan hadn’t had any measure for how long it would take a teenager to learn to read and Virgil was quite dedicated.
Usually, their lessons ended with Logan reading a more complicated book while letting him follow along. The last week, they had been reading the library book Virgil had chosen for himself, Into the Mist. It was an interesting book to read to Virgil, though Logan was unsure if it would be as interesting if he were to read it on his own. In truth, it was a good, but rather ordinary fantasy book. Virgil, however, seemed incredibly fascinated by it. He had never heard a high fantasy story before in his life and he was constantly comparing and contrasting things in the book to things he understood in real life as well as asking Logan about them.
It also became clear that Virgil did not quite understand real life fully. He attributed the same amount of awe to hearing the ocean being described as he did to the main character’s climb up the sky to a cloud city in hopes of saving his love interest’s life. In fact, he seemed more in awe of Logan’s explanation of the ocean since it actually existed.
Logan had a sudden intense urge to plan a trip to see an ocean at some point in the future. Lamir was a costal country and its castle sat on top of a cliff that overlooked the sea. It would be easy enough to take a trip to their ally’s country at some point.
“So, cloud mites don’t exist?” Virgil confirmed yet again.
“No,” Logan said. “They don’t. In fact, their existence would go against all magical laws since they are sentient without being alive.”
“But crabs do?” Virgil asked.
“Yes.”
“How?”
“Crabs do not go against the natural order of things,” Logan said.
“But why?” Virgil asked.
“I… don’t understand the question.”
“They don’t have the right number of legs.”
“W-what do you mean by that?” Logan asked, confused.
“Animals can only have an even number of legs on either side.”
“No,” Logan said. Virgil nodded vigorously. “What about beetles? Those have 6 legs. Three on each side.”
“But beetles are bug,” Virgil pointed out.
“Bugs are animals,” Logan argued.
“No, they’re not.”
His face was so serious, and he was so sure, that it was funny. “Bugs are animals,” Logan said.
Virgil seemed confused by this. “But they have 6 legs.”
Logan couldn’t help but laugh at that. “Virgil, what do you think and animal is?”
“Well, I don’t know,” Virgil said, pouting slightly at being laughed at. Logan leaned over to bump their shoulder together which seemed to pacify him. “Cows. Birds. Frogs.”
“I think we need to get you a tutor. You are missing some fundamental building blocks in your education.”
He huffed, peering at the book.
“It’s no fault of your own,” Logan assured. “You are not born with information like that. People were just negligent in teaching you these things.”
Virgil nodded. “That actually reminds me of something.”
“Mmm?” Logan asked.
“There’s something I need to teach you.”
“And what would that be?” Logan asked.
“Survival instincts.”
“What?”
Virgil slammed his hand down on Logan’s desk. “You have no survival instincts,” he declared. “I bet you don’t even know what hemlock tastes like.”
“Isn’t that poisonous.”
“Yes,” Virgil said.
“Then of course I don’t know what it tastes like.”
“Exactly! That’s the problem.”
“I don’t need to know what poison tastes like, Virgil,” Logan said.
“Yes, you do,” Virgil argued. “It’s an important skill.”
“I think your view of what constitutes as an ‘important skill’ may be skewed,” Logan said.
“You’re a prince,” Virgil said. “Knowing about poisons is an important skill for you.”
“It’s really not though.”
“You’re at war,” Virgil reminded, “and they already tried to assassinate your father. Do you think they’re not going to send someone else when your father is alive at winter’s end, and they’ve heard no word from their assassin? Do you think if they realize you’re not easily manipulatable, they won’t come for you too?”
“Well, I mean…” Logan said. “You do have a point there.”
“And you need to learn how to climb things and catch things.”
“Why do I need to know how to catch things?”
“We’ve already had this discussion,” Virgil said. “In case someone throws a knife at you.”
Wait. When had they had that conversation?
“And while we’re on the topic of knives, you need to know how to use a knife effectively.”
“I know how to use a knife,” Logan claimed even though he knew he didn’t know how to use a knife in the way Virgil was talking about.
Virgil, despite having no concept of taxonomic classification, was no fool. “Chopping things for potions doesn’t count,” Virgil said. “I’m talking stabbing lessons. For you and Patton, though to be honest, Patton has an advantage already over you when it comes to using weapons.”
“Why does he…” Logan thought. “Because he managed to get a hit on you with a cookie sheet one time?”
“His reflexes are better,” Virgil said, “as well as his ability to use his environment to his advantage. You’re always completely oblivious about what’s going on around you.”
“Excuse me. I am incredibly observant,” said Logan.
“How many chairs are in the dinning room we walked through to get here two hours ago?” Virgil asked.
Logan thought for a moment. “I’m not sure.”
“Exactly! You walk by them every day and you don’t even know how many chairs there are in that room.”
“I have no idea what that has to do with anything.”
“How would you know if someone tampered with the chairs if you don’t know how many of them there are or their positions.”
“Tampered with the chairs?” Logan asked. “What are you talking about? I filter out unnecessary information. That doesn’t mean I’m unobservant.”
“Yes, it does,” Virgil said. “Plus, half the time you don’t even know where I am when you know I’m in the same room as you,” Virgil said.
“Well, that’s because you climb on top of things and hide in walls!” Logan said. “That’s hardly fair.”
“You mean I’m quiet and good at hiding like… an assassin might be.”
Logan pursed his lips. Virgil tilted his head and smiled at him. “I am plenty observant,” Logan insisted once again.
“Prove it,” Virgil said.
“And how should I do that?” Logan asked. “Beyond simply memorizing the furniture arrangements?”
Virgil shrugged. “I’m sure you’ll get an opportunity soon.”
Logan wished he would have been observant enough in that moment to notice the determined spark in his eyes.
Chapter 48 (Thomas)
Thomas was leaving his office when he ran into his son. Or more accurately, his son almost ran into him. “Is everything alright?” Thomas asked.
“I…” Logan said. His hand came out to grasp Thomas’s shirt sleeve, odd behavior for him at least at this age. He used to do such things when he was very small. “Yes,” he said anyway. “Everything is perfectly fine.” He glanced behind himself down the hall.
Thomas looked at him and then looked down the hallway, concerned by his strange behavior. “Are you sure?” he asked.
“Yes,” Logan said, but he wasn’t letting go of Thomas’s shirt.
“You seem a bit anxious, Logan,” Thomas said.
“I am not,” Logan denied, releasing his shirt. Thomas caught a glimpse of something moving above their heads. The hallway Thomas’s office was in had large pillars along the outer wall that really no one should be able to scale despite there technically being grooves in them. Yet, there Virgil clung to the chapiter of one of them. Even more bewildering, he was gripping a pouch of some kind in his teeth.
They met eyes briefly. Virgil tilted his head at Thomas. Then, he removed one hand from the pillar. How was he up there? He made a motion with his hand that seemed to be telling Thomas to step back.
Thomas looked back at his son. Logan hadn’t noticed Virgil, too busy glancing behind him and not looking up. Thomas looked back up at Virgil and took a big step back. The moment he did, Virgil grabbed the bottom of the pouch with his free hand and let go with his teeth. The pouch flipped upside down dropping its contents right onto Logan’s head.
Logan gave a high-pitched shriek that Thomas didn’t think he’d ever heard from him before. “Virgil!” he yelled, now absolutely soaked.
“Learn to look up,” Virgil said seriously, still clinging to the pillar.
“I hate you,” Logan replied.
“Don’t say things you don’t mean in anger,” Thomas reminded. He was a bit worried Virgil may overreact to Logan saying things like that to him, though he seemed perfectly calm at the moment.
Logan scowled at Thomas. “You’re on his side?! He just dumped water on my head!”
“He needs to be trained to be more observant!” Virgil said.
Logan turned his scowl to Virgil. “Come down here, you intolerable creature! I’m done with your so-called training!”
“And what would you do if I did come down?” Virgil asked while arching an eyebrow, wholly unconcerned. “Quote facts about animals at me?”
Thomas was unsure what about that comment angered Logan, but it apparently did.
“You little…”
“Boys,” Thomas interrupted. “What’s going on here?”
They both immediately started speaking at once, doing their best to talk over each other. Thomas didn’t catch much of either rants except something about ‘training’ and Virgil ‘stalking the halls’ and an “exploding muffin.”
“Okay, okay,” Thomas said, putting a hand up to tell both of them to be quiet. “One at a time. Virgil first.”
“Really?” Logan asked.
“Logan,” Thomas scolded.
He mumbled something under his breath, but he did quiet down.
“Virgil,” Thomas started again. “What’s going on?”
“I’m training him,” Virgil said.
“Training him?” Thomas asked. “Training him for what?”
“For life,” Virgil answered. “He isn’t observant enough.”
“Ah,” Thomas said, still fairly confused. “And how are you training him?”
“Right now, we’re doing situational awareness training,” Virgil said.
“And how does that translate to you dumping water on his head?” Thomas asked.
“He wouldn’t have gotten water on his head if he’d noticed me,” Virgil answered, seriously. Thomas tried not to laugh at the look on his face.
“That is, perhaps true,” Thomas said. “However, dumping water on people’s heads is not nice. Perhaps there is a nicer way to do this training?”
“People trying to kill them won’t be nice,” Virgil said.
“No one is trying to kill Logan,” Thomas said.
Virgil just pursed his lips. “Maybe,” Virgil said. “Not yet.”
Thomas was unsure where this fear had come from. Perhaps he had heard about the successful assassination of Lamir’s late queen. Thomas hadn’t exactly publicized the fact that the queen had been killed and not simply died when he’d returned, but he had told certain people including Logan and Patton. It was possible one of them had let it slip and Virgil had freaked out about it.
“Well,” Thomas said. “It still isn’t nice to ruin someone’s day over a threat that doesn’t exist yet.”
Virgil just huffed at him. He was being surprisingly petulant which actually made Thomas smile just a tad. He’d not even been able to imagine this side of him a month ago. “Why don’t you come down here?” Thomas suggested. “We can talk through the issue and come to a compromise.”
Virgil stared down at him with skeptical eyes.
“Perhaps with tea and cookies?” Thomas suggested.
Virgil tilted his head and slid down the pillar until his feet touched the floor. “What kind of cookies?” he asked.
“We’ll have to see what Helen has made lately,” Thomas said. He turned to Logan and frowned. “You should probably change before you get sick being wet and in the cold.”
Logan nodded and shivered a little bit while rubbing his own arms. Despite the castle being warm, it was no fun to be completely soaked during the winter. Thomas wasn’t even sure if Virgil would have thought to not use freezing cold water. Even with heating elements, the water in the castle could be very cold if you didn’t wait for a bit for it to warm up. Thomas didn’t think Virgil would have thought too far ahead in this ‘training.’
“I’ll take Virgil down to the kitchen and get some tea and cookies for all of us,” Thomas told Logan.
He gave his son a look trying to communicate ‘I’ll talk to him.’ Logan pursed his lips, but nodded, seeming to receive the message.
“Why don’t we meet you in the royal dining room, so the conversation is more private?” Thomas suggested. It would be a much calmer environment than the main dining hall or the kitchens.
“Sure,” Logan agreed, turning to walk off in the direction of the royal wing. The poor thing was huddled in on himself and cold.
Thomas looked over at Virgil and smiled at him softly as Logan left. “Let’s go see what cookies Helen has ready,” he suggested.
Chapter 49 (Virgil)
“So,” King Thomas said as they walked through the halls towards the kitchens. The path to the kitchens from pretty much anywhere in the castle was familiar to Virgil now. Food was abundant in this place and there were no restrictions on Virgil eating it. There were no restrictions on anyone in the castle eating it, unless you counted Patton’s mother insisting people eat a more varied diet than only cookies. Personally, while Virgil did like cookies, he had no complaints over that matter. “You and Logan seem to be having a disagreement,” Thomas continued.
“I’m right,” Virgil insisted, and he was.
However, explaining why Virgil was right to the king was a bit difficult when Virgil was hiding why he knew Logan developing survival instincts was important. It was clear that Virgil did not get his point across correctly because the king laughed slightly.
“Everyone believes they are right during a disagreement,” Thomas said. “I’m sure Logan has his own ideas about who is correct.”
Virgil frowned at him. “I am.”
“Perhaps you are both right,” the king suggested.
“But…”
“You cannot dump water on people’s heads in the castle hallways, Virgil,” the king scolded, but it was a gentle scolding and Virgil forced himself to not climb the wall and disappear. He had a point to make. “Especially not in the winter.”
“He’s the prince,” Virgil argued. “He needs to know how to protect himself in case of danger.”
“That is true,” Thomas conceded. “You are probably correct that we should be making sure the royal family is well protected and can protect themselves. We have been safe for a long time, but there is always a risk.” He seemed contemplative for a moment. “However,” he continued. “The way you are going about it is not correct in my opinion. Clearly, it is not in Logan’s opinion as well.”
“But…”
“You risk making more problems than solving with your strategy,” the king said.
“Like what?” Virgil asked.
“Well,” Thomas said. “Getting someone wet when it’s cold is never a good idea even inside a castle.” Virgil… could agree with that. “You also could accidently ruin something important by getting water on it if you don’t give warning. Even if you are doing something besides pouring water on his head, if you continue to do things to ‘train’ Logan in the same vein, he is likely to become more paranoid than vigilant.”
“What’s the difference?” Virgil asked.
“Being vigilant means you are prepared for danger around every corner. Being paranoid means you are expecting danger around every corner.”
“There doesn’t seem like there’s much of a difference,” Virgil said.
“There is,” said the king, as they pushed through a set of double doors. “Take any of the royal guards,” he gestured subtly at the two people guarding the room to the hall they’d just come from. “If a guard is constantly worried that every little sound is a danger and every new person is an enemy, they will waste all of their energy and time chasing down stray rodents and interrogating maids that decided to walk a different path to their destinations. When real danger does appear, they may be too worn out or distracted to react.”
“However, if the guards are calm and instead of instantly overreacting to every small thing, they make a note of it in case it ends up being something they need to react to later, then they will be prepared to act if there are any actual threats.”
Virgil bit his tongue to stop from mentioning that he’d managed to sneak by the guards to the royal wing the first night he was here. A boy with a cookie sheet had done more against him that King Thomas’s guards.
“That’s why I make sure everyone who works for the castle, especially the guards have not only time off to sleep and eat, but time off for leisure where they are not expected to be hypervigilant.”
“All people need to have a time and place to feel safe, even the ones whose jobs it is to keep others safe. Logan’s job is not the same as the guards who keep the people in this castle physically safe, but he is training to be king. He needs time to perform his duties and to relax between them. Harassing him all day with survival training is not going to help him.”
“People don’t need to feel safe,” Virgil argued. “They need to be safe.”
The king stopped walking and turned to him. Virgil couldn’t help but cringe a bit as the king studied him.
“You haven’t had a chance to feel safe very often in your life, have you?” the king asked.
Virgil shrugged, looking away.
“What would make you feel safe?” Thomas asked.
“Logan being safe,” Virgil said.
“Logan is safe, Virgil,” the king tried to argue.
Virgil scowled. “I don’t trust your guards. Even the best guard won’t be able to help if Logan gets trapped alone with someone. He needs to learn self-defense.”
“Well, I’m already planning to up security in the castle when spring comes. Would me asking if he’d be willing to do self-defense training with someone help?”
He thought about it for a few moments. “Maybe,” he said, lips pursed, “but what if the person you get to teach him isn’t any good at it?” Honestly, Virgil wasn’t sure if he could trust anyone in this entire kingdom to do proper training.
Then again… Prijaznia had been holding its own against Mocnejsi for… Virgil didn’t actually know how long. He just knew that he’d always remembered there being a war going on between them for his entire life. And… while no one had ever actually said it out loud, Prijaznia was probably winning. It’s why Mocnejsi was going for things like assassinations and tricks instead of normal warfare.
Not to mention Prijaznia was less… war torn. Sure, he’d been living in the castle recently, but even in his travel to the castle, people seemed to be a bit better off.
So, maybe there were some people in the kingdom who knew what they were doing when fighting. However, Virgil wasn’t going to trust the king to pick out who should train Logan.
“I’m sure we can find someone who is up to your standards,” the king said, though the curl to his lip seemed to indicate he wasn’t taking Virgil seriously. Of course, as far as he knew, Virgil was just a random kid his friend had befriended, so that was probably fair.
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It was a bit frustrating to not be able to tell Logan’s dad why Virgil was worried or how he knew how to help, but Virgil wouldn’t dare give him even the slightest hint of the truth. He respected the king. He was starting to like the king. Yet, Virgil was not a fool.
The king obviously misinterpreted the disgruntled expression on his face. “Maybe you can also do some of your training,” he said, “but there has to be compromise. You and Logan need to talk about it without fighting before anything goes any further. I can mediate. We’ll talk about what things might be okay and what things are off limits.”
“Okay,” Virgil said, still not happy, but knowing there wasn’t much else he could do.
“Okay,” the king agreed. They were now at the door to the kitchens “Now, let’s get those cookies.”
Chapter 50 (Patton)
Patton was starting to get excited. There had been a small snow storm a couple of weeks before, but since then, the temperature had been on the rise with no sign of more snow on the horizon. It was still a bit chilly, but Patton only really felt the need for a light coat instead of any more extreme winter wear. It was great!
Usually everyone including Patton was relieved as Winter turned to Spring, but this year, Patton had even more of a reason to be happy about it. Virgil had gotten a tiny bit more comfortable going outside over the winter, but he still didn’t like it too much.
Patton could almost feel the change in him as the warmer months drew nearer like a flower getting ready to bloom. He was happier and more energetic. Mr. Deknis was getting things ready to start planting as soon as his seasonal workers started to arrive in the coming weeks. In the meantime, Virgil helped him get ready with a lot of enthusiasm.
It was probably the warmest it had been today. It wasn’t nearly summer, but Patton wouldn’t call it cold. So, while Logan was off doing princely duties in the afternoon, Patton decided to test if it was warm enough now for Virgil to willingly go outside.
Patton found Virgil in Mr. Deknis’s rooms a couple of hours after lunch, figuring he’d be done with whatever task they were doing that day by then. Patton ended up being correct as when Mr. Deknis let him into his living room, Virgil was busy flipping through yet another book of orchids, still trying to decide which he wanted to grow.
“Hi, Virgil,” Patton said, walking into the room with Princess Marisol on his heels. She had been lazing in a sunny spot by a nearby window but had gotten up to follow him as he walked by.
“Hi,” Virgil replied. He closed the book and set it aside.
“I was wondering if you wanted to go to the dovecote with me,” Patton said. “I wanted to send a letter.”
Virgil thought about it for a moment, and Patton would swear he was using some secret weather sensing mechanism in his head to check the weather before saying, “Okay.”
“If you two are going to the dovecote, would you mind taking a letter for me as well?” Mr. Deknis asked.
“Of course,” Patton agreed.
Mr. Deknis turned to grab a sealed letter off his desk. “It’s for my daughter,” Mr. Deknis said. “The handlers should know the right pigeon to give it to.”
Patton nodded and took it.
“You have a daughter?” Virgil asked, sounding more surprised than Patton would have expected.
“Yes, Darlene,” Mr. Deknis said. “I’ve talked about her. I thought I’d mentioned she was my daughter.”
“I didn’t know you could have children.”
The statement clearly rang with truth to Mr. Deknis’s ears, but it didn’t make him look any less confused. “Why would you think that?” he asked.
Patton’s eyes widened as he recalled a conversation from months ago where Virgil had been confused about why Mr. Deknis was allowed to be a gardener when he was a multrum. Patton didn’t know much about how multrums were treated in Mocnejsi, but it hadn’t sounded very nice and Patton could draw some conclusions about why Virgil thought that. The problem of course was that Patton was pretty sure very few people in Prijaznia would be confused about Mr. Deknis being allowed to have a kid.
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not sure if this is what you had in mind but i was thinking maybe kdj and hsy meeting briefly earlier in life (at 20/22 years old or sth)? maybe having a misunderstanding or an argument over something trivial (like interpretation of a book or who should take the last lemon flavored popsicle in the store) and somehow still managing to reach some recognition or understanding of each other. years later they would forget about each other but still remember that bizarre situation sometimes. i have no idea if that makes any sense but i believe in your writing and massive brain and powerful swag. xoxo
Aaaaah, Exe I'm sorry if this isn't exactly what you asked for... I was just like... what if that time Han Sooyoung and Kim Dokja almost met in the epilogue went a little differently and like... haha...
The first part is basically copied and pasted from that chapter before the twist, so go read that first if you haven't!
Han Su-Yeong staggered and walked closer to Kim Dok-Ja. Several passersby brushing past her looked back in suspicion.
Kim Dok-Ja was now walking down the subway’s steps.
Kim Dok-Ja, with earphones stuck in his ears and reading something on his phone while walking downstairs.
She knew what he was currently reading.
“—!!”
She barely managed to shout, but her voice still didn’t come out. So, she desperately chased after him.
Because of the story you wrote, author-nim, I was able to survive until now. Han Su-Yeong was also able to survive while reading the sole reader’s words.
She managed to write the next part of Yu Jung-Hyeok’s life through them.
She was able to endure her boring and stuffy teen years, the days she never wanted to go back to, thanks to those words.
This train is bound for… She spotted Kim Dok-Ja standing on the platform, waiting for the next train to arrive. A person hiding within the small world crafted out of letters to protect himself was standing right there.
Kim Dok-Ja, who didn’t know anything about the apocalypse about to happen.
Kim Dok-Ja, who’d get to live on the expansive world of the ‘Ways of Survival’.
Kim Dok-Ja, who’d get to meet the protagonist he so longed to become.
Kim Dok-Ja, who’d become the ‘Demon King of Salvation’.
Kim Dok-Ja, who’d sacrifice himself multiple times for the sake of his companions, and as a result, came to the 1863rd turn and met her.
Kim Dok-Ja, who was destined to become the ‘Most Ancient Dream’, the price he paid for loving a certain story too much.
[Your mental state is crumbling!]
[The main body’s ego is regaining its control.]
[Your Fable is being extinguished.]
Her legs grew heavy, and her arms didn’t want to move anymore. Her body was gradually becoming not hers.
Even then, Han Su-Yeong wanted to tell him.
⸢To tell him that he was definitely not at fault for this story being born. And to tell him that the things he was about to experience were not his sins.⸥
Because, her past 13 years existed solely to say those words to him.
⸢To say that, though you have grown up while reading this story, there’s no need for you to become it.⸥
She barely managed to muster up her strength, her arm coiling in on itself and preparing for her one last willful action.
[Your ego will convert into the ‘subconsciousness’.]
As she set her weak, pre-scenario body into that final decisive movement...
The twenty six year old Han Su-yeong who knew nothing of the soon to come apocalypse, woke up thrusting her fist forward into the face of some guy on the subway.
She would've thought she was still dreaming, if it hadn't been for the feeling of his soft cheek slamming against the hard bone of his teeth under the force of her balled up hand.
'What the hell? Why am I doing this?'
Han Su-yeong most likely would have asked herself these things if she had any more time to think before her punch had landed.
She got her answer, though. Despite never asking her question, that reason she was looking for became clear as the man staggered off his balance.
He made a futile attempt to right himself before being knocked to the ground. The phone that he had been holding so close to his face clattering screen-side up onto the concrete of the subway floor.
That was when she saw it.
She only had to read a snippet of the words on that phone screen to come up with an explanation for her own actions at that very moment.
[There are three ways to survive in a ruined world. Now, I have forgotten a few, but one thing is certain. The fact that you who are reading this now will survive.
-Three ways to survive in a ruined world
Author’s words: Thank you so much for reading ‘Ways of Survival’ up to here. I will come back to you with an epilogue!]
'Ways of Survival.' 'Three ways to survive in a ruined world.'
...
Yes, there was no doubt that this guy sat on the subway floor rubbing at his cheek deserved it.
Some latent evil of the world must be working to Han Su-yeong's advantage, because none of the commuter passing by spared her a second glance as she sorted out her own motives. They simply dodged around her and the man she had assaulted moments ago.
If Han Su-yeong had to write some train of thought into their actions, she might imagine these negligent bystanders saw something like an overly dramatic lover's spat. Something personal that they ought not get involved in.
Were it not for the pervasiveness of such a cliche recurrent in physical altercations between men and women, maybe they would see it for what it was. A question of honor between authors.
Because Han Su-yeong was certain that was who this man was. An author who was so shitty that he had created an alt to try and hype up his terrible novel.
That was right... It was years ago now, but Han Su-yeong remembered that unsubstantiated accusation of plagiarism on her first published webnovel, SSSSS-grade Infinite Regressor.
This shitty guy had made an alt account that was so obvious... it was something 'Dok-ja,' like he wasn't even trying to pretend he didn't make it just to pretend to 'read' his own webnovel...
If that didn't prove it, then it was also clear from the comments that he had left on every single chapter. When she was reading them, Han Su-yeong had known that if she were such a bad author that she would have to have just one reader, the words that he wrote represented that perfect amount of reader to author engagement that she would have desired.
But that sort of relationship... it was unrealistic. Han Su-yeong had been an author for something like 13 years now, and she had never had such a relationship in her entire career.
So it was obvious that a reader like that could only be written by an author with those same desires that she held.
And then he even had the nerve to wander out of his self contained fantasy, accusing her superior work of plagiarizing his shitty one just to draw in more views and commenters.
So of course he had a lot of nerve to be rereading his own damn author's note right where she could see hi-
"Can I help you?"
Han Su-yeong felt all of the hot air she had been blowing herself up with to justify her current situation deflate upon hearing that voice of his.
The man she'd injured looked up at her with hollow black eyes. Eyes that perhaps had only seemed bright while being illuminated by a screen.
His voice was mild, too. As if getting punched in the face were something that was merely tiresome to him, instead of something to stir anger or indignity. The reactions that Han Su-yeong had been mentally preparing herself to butt heads with.
Nothing about his reaction seemed to ask Han Su-yeong for her motives. There was no race to find an explanation behind those hollow eyes. No bit lip, straining to come up with a turn of phrase to become an appropriately biting retort.
This guy wasn't an author.
...
Hey...
Why had she punched this guy again?
"Sorry." Han Su-yeong found herself saying, as her body deflated, extended arm going back to her side. "From the behind, you looked like my shitty ex."
She let herself fall into the cliche.
"Ah. I see."
Han Su-yeong hated the guy's expression, just then.
It was one that said, 'Well isn't that just my luck?'
But she couldn't help but watch, as this unlucky guy stood up and picked up his phone, brushing it off instead of himself, as if it were more precious to him than his own body.
And when that Dok-ja turned around, Han Su-yeong only saw his back for a second, before the sight of him was once more swallowed up by the uncaring world of the subway station crowd.
#exe i know you're kind of lowkey evil and didn't read the epilogue all the way through and its ok i love you but im coercing you now ok <3#Parts that are from the original are in italics they're from 535#orv spoilers#also i know i usually do the names from the Rainbow Turtle translation but I decided to style match for this one#not beta'd#writing#ficlet#han sooyoung#han suyeong#kim dokja#hsy#kdj#orv#omniscient reader#also xoxoxo exe
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