#She doesn’t really seem like she’d be into literature though

[theres-whump-in-that-nebula]

I don’t like JoJo Siwa as a person but I feel like “Yesterday’s Tomorrow’s Todays” is referencing Fahrenheit 451 pretty heavily and I kind of like it (uh, minus the autotune abuse, that is)… anyone else?

And it’s perfect because if you look into the lyrics very closely at all, they make zero sense, just like the television programs in that fictional world.

[xcyphoz0a]

Hello there! I hope your day is going well, but if not I hope it gets better dude!!!🤗

I wanted to know if it’s alright to request an idea for sagau? Like I might make a post about this but I always thought it would be cool to have y/n retain some realistic features even though they isekai into tevat!

Like for example; the hair being more textured, shines in reflection , the way they would have different shades and saturation throughout the skin, they way how your touch feels ‘real’ or different, oh and ur eyes, oh how the characters could look how your pupils reflects, etc.

Idk I always thought if I were to make and character of mine or y/n still retaining little features they had back their own world seem kind of cool and interesting to think how people would react to it!

Even better is if they don’t know you’re the ‘creator’ of their reality and they were only able to hear your voice and how you express yourself!!

Anyways sorry for making this so long 🥲 I’m just kind of curious on how you or others would feel on this idea 💡

Unique differences

Gender neutral reader, ideas TW/CW: sagau Character(s): Some characters from Mondstadt Word count: 608 Proofread: n/a | The differences you hold is what makes you unique, so special, lovable. | A/N: hello! I hope this fits your tastes..? might have a part two if i manage to find some more ideas!

Taglist: @chaoffee

When you arrive you probably don’t know why some random citizens look at you with such amazed, perplexed gazes, with you likely thinking there’s something on your face that you don’t know was there.

You’re also slightly confused why the hilichurls don’t attack when you’re an inch near them, and why the slimes seem to be more docile, why you barely manage to see abyss mages– everything’s odd.

If you arrive near Mondstadt, Amber is the first one to find you and lead you towards the headquarters of the knights of Favonius, but she definitely notices something different with you. You haven’t spoken yet, so she doesn’t know who you really are, perhaps, you’re like the traveller, she thinks.

But when you properly introduce yourself to Jean and the others the whole knights that are in the headquarters, such as Albedo, Sucrose, Kaeya, Lisa, perhaps Eula, gather around you, murmuring to themselves that you’re 99% the creator that they’ve only ever heard, and you’re just standing there. 

With your voice, the different, more dynamic and ‘lively’ look that you have seemed to make more sense–your eyes held the shine and reflection of their own appearance, your skin seemed to be much softer… and you assume that you’ve managed to retain some realer features you had in your original world.

Don’t worry, don’t fret, they love you with or without differences. Even if you weren’t the creator, Mondstadt welcomes you with open arms.

Best to say now the whole of Mondstadt finally knows their creator’s here in their region.

While Albedo knows that you are the creator, he can’t help but wonder if he can try to run some tests–he doesn’t want to hurt you, he just has an infinite curiosity ridden area in his mind.

Same goes for Sucrose too, but she doesn’t want to come off as rude or disrespectful, so she only holds these curiosities within her, oftentimes writing this in her journal, it’s not creepy, I promise.

Jean finds your presence nice, but more than others, it feels as if you’re like a safe haven for her with only just your presence, and you can visibly see her tired eyes brighten up when you pat her head for her hard work.

For Lisa, she also holds some questions for you, though she’d rather stay where she is, watching and hearing you enthusiastically talk about the books and literature in your world in the library.

Diluc wishes he was the person to find you first and lead you to Mondstadt– his feelings towards the knights of Favonius may be neutral and slightly, very slightly bad, but he’s still grateful that you managed to arrive safely. If you manage to visit Angel’s Share often, he’s somehow always there, wiping a glass or two.

Kaeya’s teasing his brother. No hard feelings though! Just pure friendly sibling rivalry. But when you’re near, his charismatic face fades as he’s rendered to someone yearning for affection–it’s adorable.

Same goes for Eula. She’s not often seen in Mondstadt due to her… ‘status’, but when you welcome her with open arms and no judgemental gaze, she feels… so appreciated. She’s barely felt this before other than in the knights of Favonius, but this… feels more different, warm, loving.

Venti’s elated, often like him a majority of times, but for him, he feels the joy that he’s never felt before–it’s pure, unadulterated joy that stems from his chest, as his mind fills with endless pure and innocent praise and lyrics for you with his lyre. The weather in Mondstadt seems to be more light, a refreshing breeze whenever Venti’s with you for some reason…

[2-the-moon-and-2-saturn]

who we are (and what we’ve done — chapter 10

Events unfold painstakingly slowly.

Then again, that’s probably to be expected when one selects vaginal delivery as their preferred method of childbirth.

If she were using her logical brain, Lena would remember the countless books she read, both from terrestrial and Kryptonian literature, regarding this very moment that will change her life forever. She would think about the fact that these so-called ‘natural’ births (though at this moment, it feels like there is nothing remotely natural about it) typically result in a faster recovery time, which increases her chances of being active sooner and in less pain in the future.

If she were thinking with her emotional brain, Lena would remind herself that she actually chose this, among other things, because she did want the experience, because she wanted to be with her baby through everything since the very beginning, and something in her made this kind of birthing process just feel right.

But none of those scenarios are relevant right now, because Lena does not feel like she is thinking with any brain at all. In fact, her entire brain seems to be dedicated to signaling to her that pushing a baby past her vagina is supposed to hurt (as if she could ever forget).

So all of her well-researched arguments and all of her well-thought out reasons and all of her well-meaning wife’s attempts at comfort suddenly are irrelevant at the momentz Lena finds herself wanting to scream out a litany of all the swear words known to humans and Kryptonians alike, and curse nature or a god or something else that decided that in order to procreate, a person must go through this.

She tries to ignore the fact that the citizens of Argo actually advocated for her to just use the matrix, as has been done for so long, it’s become tradition. Nevermind that Kara offered to carry the child and Lena decided against it.

Right now, she doesn’t even care about the warm and cozy look they’d shared when she first went into labor, knowing that they were going to become moms, together, and nothing about it might ever feel real. Nothing else is relevant, because she’s bringing new fucking life into this world and so she gets to be as bitter and snappy and irrational as she’d like.

And then she is born; six pounds and two ounces of dreams Lena had never dared hope for. Pruney pink skin and fuzzy dark hair, the evidence of a life she had never thought to be meant for her. It’s not like motherhood has ever been a particular vocation of Lena’s, who always thought of herself as a fun aunt rather than a person who raises a child- she definitely has other ambitions in life.

But motherhood is still something she’s wanted, and can’t really believe her little girl is finally here.

Kara cuts the umbilical cord and the nurse cleans their daughter up, then places her in Lena’s arms.Such a beautiful thing — the way this tiny baby with powerful lungs that create the most ear-piercing screams simply becomes entirely content just because of skin-to-skin contact with her. Lena. Lena, who has never felt unconditionally, effortlessly, important to anyone.

The details of what happens next are hazy, probably due to the exhaustion of a seventeen-hour long labor. She thinks she feels lips on her forehead, and maybe the image of Kara’s megawatt smile in contrast with the tears in her eyes, her voice whispering sweet everythings like, “You did it”, “I love you so much”, and, “We’re officially moms”.

There’s something she’s receiving guidance on, and then her baby has latched onto her nipple, and then Lena is falling into the most peaceful sleep she has ever had.

She doesn’t dream — that wasn’t really even in the realm of possibility, considering all that her body has been through in the past day and the remnants of pain medicine in her veins.

She doesn’t dream, but in the next couple of days, she will imagine that if she did, the contents of it would, for a change, be very pleasant. That they would be a compilation of all the best, happiest moments in her life during the past five years.

Kara on one knee, flushed cheeks and held breath

as she waited for the answer that would solidify a bond they’d already known, in their hearts, to be true long before they actually realized it.

The butterflies in her own stomach when the woman she loves kissed her, deep and soft and all-encompassing, in the middle of the terrain where a house would be built to suit their every need. A place to grow old in. A place to belong. A place to call her home.

The glow of the stars when they left Earth, because Krypton’s technology would enable them to safely make a child from two ovocytes and, furthermore, guarantee Lena wouldn’t suffer with the super-strong kicks, once the time for those came.

Allura and Zor-El’s excitement to see her and introduce her to the society of Argo as the brilliant scientist who captured their daughter’s heart.

The moment two ovocytes became a zygote, and that cell split into two, split into four, split into a baby grown inside of her, a baby she loved from the moment they decided to have her.

Kara’s smile. Kara’s smile. Kara’s smile — all along and, most importantly, always matching her own.

Lena will have time to think about all of that in the days to come, when her breasts hurt from being fed on and her head hurts from a new kind of sleep deprivation and her heart hurts because she never thought it could contain this much happiness.

She will reflect on it, and all that’s led her to this, and she will find herself thinking, for the first time, while looking at this little bundle of hope, that she’s managed to build a beautiful life for herself, and that the best is yet to come.

And she will smile as she cries about that, too.

[iwritelmao]

The Maximoffs

summary: Wanda begins her studies on research, history, and literature, while in true Maximoff fashion, bending the rules a bit. Additionally, her classic shut-in behavior must end... With Peter's help, of course.

(Part 1) (Part 2) (Part 3) (Part 4) (Part 5 Coming Soon)

Wanda sat in the library, hunched over a book, exactly how she’d been about six months prior in Queens NY, in the library of Fordham University. Only this one was much smaller, even in its non-relative impressive size. Wanda liked that though. There were no whispered conversations at the circulation desk, no study groups being a bit too loud in a far corner. It seemed in this school, you were either dead silent, or you weren’t the type of person to be in a library.

Of course, there were exceptions. Like when Scott barged in to call Jean out on importan X-Men business. Something about national security being in danger. Or when Hank and Raven flirted over engineering volumes. Or when the professor came to check on Wanda after her third hour of isolation.

“I see you’ve abandoned War and Peace.” He noted, though he didn’t seem upset.

Wanda looked up sheepishly from the book she was reading. “You have a first edition Wuthering Heights.”

“Yes, I believe I also have Jane Eyre lying around somewhere.” Charles Xavier smiled at the girl’s astonishment. “A great something or other of mine was a Brontë fan.”

“Wow…” Her voice was barely at a whisper.

“Do you like to read?”

“Kind of? I think most of the appeal is seeing where the books have been. Looking for signs of whoever read them before; names inside covers, library logs, notes in margins.”Wanda said enthusiastically, though still keeping her voice down. “It’s like you can look at someone else’s life, their reality, through the window of another reality entirely… that’s a special thing for those of us who can’t read minds.”

Charles nodded. “I can imagine.” He said. “Though what I can’t guess at… is why you dropped out of university.”

Wanda looked up from the book. “It’s a long story.”

“Wanda you’re a wonderful student, filled with more academic curiosity than I can begin to muster out of Scott, or Jean, or even Kurt.”

She tensed up. “I really just don’t wanna talk about it.”

“Would you rather talk to your father?”

She clenched her jaw then took a deep breath. “No. And he obviously wants nothing to do with me or Peter.”

“You can’t really believe that.”

“Professor, he knows. And I’m willing to bet he’s known for a while.”

Charles Xavier sat up just a bit straighter. “No, that’s… surely he would’ve said something.”

“Yeah, your guess at ‘what the fuck’ is as good as mine.” Wanda said softly. “Don’t believe me? Read his mind, or something.”

“I’m not going to- no, I believe you,” Charles said. “Whatever he knows or doesn’t know, Erik wants a family more than anything. There must be something keeping him from speaking out… there must be.”

Wanda got back to her room to find Peter sitting cross-legged on her bed, flipping through one of her books. He looked up briefly before turning his attention back to the book, silver hair shielding his eyes. "You wrote all over this thing."

"That thing is a history textbook, so yeah, I annotated it," Wanda said, dropping her bag at the foot of her bed and sitting next to her brother.

"On Bohemian Culture..." Peter read from the cover, then moved to the sticker on one of the bottom corners. "Rented copy... Weren't you supposed to give this back to Fordham?"

Wanda shrugged. "I wanted a souvenir. And it's actually really interesting."

"God, you're boring," Peter tossed the book aside. Wanda used her powers to catch it in mid-air then set it on her desk. "Make any friends yet?"

The girl looked confused. "Why?"

"You're kidding," Peter remarked with raised eyebrows. Wanda shrugged. "Okay, fine. I'm heading out on the town with Hank and Raven tonight, you should come."

"The teachers?"

"Unless you, a vaguely 20-something-year-old, wanna go hang out with the gaggle of eighteen-year-olds," Peter suggested sarcastically, referring to Jean, Jubilee, and Scott. (seriously what the fuck is the aging system in these movies? I'm choosing to believe that the Maximoff twins are both 23 cause I feel like it)

Wanda rolled her eyes. "Fair. But Hank and Raven are... well, I don't know. They're something. I feel like they'd just be babysitting us all night." She said. "Plus, what nightlife is there in Westchester, New York?"

Peter stood up. "Would you stop making excuses to exile yourself?"

She looked at him for a long time, trying to find more reasons to say no, stay in, and read. But she kept drawing up blanks. Her mind kept going back to that one question. Where exactly was one supposed to find good nightlife in Westchester?

Raven threw her head back laughing and Hank watched adoringly. The older man smiled, then took another swig from the bottle of wine he'd brought (apparently, beer didn't agree with his stomach). Raven and Peter shared a six-pack, while Wanda sat and watched with a lukewarm, unfinished hard cider in her hands. She wouldn't drink anything that wasn't sweet or fruity.

They sat around a bonfire in the woods. It had previously been populated by the K-12 students during the homecoming season, but now all that was left was long since scorched grass, and empty bottles littering the clearing.

It was nice, Wanda decided, to be so free with a small group of people. Hank had been hanging from the trees earlier. Raven, shifting from blue, to blonde, and back as it suited her comfort. Peter darted back to the Mansion more than once for more ice to put in the cooler. Wanda had refrained from using her powers much, maybe because she wasn't drunk enough. Maybe because she was too intoxicated to do so safely. After all, dangerous things could happen if one played with chaos magic, the very threads of reality, so carelessly.

"Wanda!" Raven called out. "Your turn."

"Oh, uh..." Wanda paused, considering the question they'd all gone around the fire answering. "Nowhere."

Hank tilted his head. "What do you mean, 'nowhere'?"

The young woman shifted in her seat. "I mean, I've never..."

Peter spit out his beer. "What?" He stared with wide eyes. "What about that one guy? What's his name? He took you to prom, and after, you went to his place and..."

"Watched Never Ending Story on VHS."

Raven set her drink down. "Let me get this straight... You're a twenty-three-year-old virgin?"

Wanda shrugged. "I guess. I mean I've never really felt that way about another person. Sure, I've wanted to date people before... maybe even kiss them, but anything past that..." She looked up from her hands to see the rest of the group staring. "Sorry, I know it's-"

"Natural," Raven said. "Whatever you feel, or don't feel, it's for a reason. It's okay."

Wanda looked at her with a smile. For a moment, the only sound was the crackling of the fire, until Peter took a worryingly long sip of beer and said. "My first kiss was a guy on the track team at the high school I went to."

All eyes went to Peter. His twin sister's eyes widened as her head snapped in his direction. "Not Oliver..."

"Yes, Oliver."

"I thought you hated Oliver."

"Oh, I did. Hated him all the way to third base."

[theworldsforgottenboy]

4, 11, 18! (from @bladesandbhaalspawn)

how do they sleep with their LI (what position, does one steal the blankets, is one too hot/cold, etc)?

Hope runs hot, so she really appreciates having a partner that’s always cold. They sleep (or trances rather, since she’s an elf) with Astarion as one would a body pillow, arms wrapped around his neck, hand cradling his skull, leg slung over his. She low key crushes him with her big muscley body but he doesn’t mind 😉 she’s warm and real and her heart is beating which means they’re both safe and alive (for the most part anyway)

if either, are they part of the astarion/gale book club (magic & literature) or the wyll/shadowheart book club (trashy romance novels)?

She floats between both groups, but she definitely has more fun with wyll and shadowheart, though she’ll never admit it. (I will assume the quality of these books are at least a slight bit better than in the real world bc it seems like the noxious heteronormativity that informs a lot of trashy romance novels doesn’t seem to be present.) She always identifies a little to hard with the bad boy (gender neutral) loner lead and gets a little bit miffed when he’s “tamed” at the end. Will get embarrassingly technical about nitpicking the way vampire bites are described. As for more serious literature, she’d be a big fan of transcendentalist writers like Walt Whitman and Henry David Thoroueu and likes an earthier, more naturalistic prose style than Gale and astarion usually favor. Their conversations are interesting, but heated because at least one of them HATES the book selected and will not mince words about it.

what modern day tv show would they binge over a weekend? do they get their LI to watch with them?

She’d be a supernatural fan. I’m sorry for her, but I can’t spare my darlings from the truth, which is that she’s totally a Sam coded Deangirl. it’s got the perfect mix of nomadic monster hunting wanderlust and trashy ship bait drama for her mind to grab hold of and tear apart. She’d fall hook line and sinker. It does more damage to her brain than the tadpole could ever dream of. Astarion does not watch it thank you very much, he makes fun of her mercilessly for watching all 15 seasons it. That’s ok, because She got Wyll into it and they feed off of each others insanity. Suddenly the book club turns into a destiel fanclub. Shadowheart is upset but gets pulled under into casual fandom, if that’s even a thing with that show.

[forget-me-maybe]

WIP Tuesday!

hello!

thank you for the tag @heartfluttered , can't wait to read your new chapter!!

anyway! my adhd brain has been working overtime on just giving me new ideas and while straight up refusing to let me write anything on my current wips. HOWEVER imma give you a lil snippet from you keep showing up that i wrote before brain went blerghhh (maybe it'll help!!!):

Having Raphael around is like taking care of a child. Well, not that Tav has a lot of experience of taking care of children. Only Arabella and Yenna, and though Tav was the one to invite them to camp, she made a habit of staying away from them and letting Halsin take the lead.  But having Raphael around is what Tav imagines taking care of a child would be like.  Around midday he gets grumpy and Tav shoves an apple in his hand, which he angrily chews down and is bearable for another hour before it’s time for lunch. If the apple doesn’t work he probably needs a nap, and since she’s not his godsdamned mother and she won’t tuck in a grown man, she settles on giving him a strong cup of tea instead.  One afternoon she laced it with a Potion of Speed and while it did have the desired result for a moment, it wasn’t worth the catastrophic consequences of the effect of the potion running out. Let’s just say taking care of a lethargic Raphael is harder than taking care of a grumpy one.  She can’t be blamed for wanting to experiment though.  The days start to approach a half a tenday and all of them are spent in Ramazith’s tower. Tav can’t help but feel a bit guilty for leading a devil into Rolan’s home. But then again, Raphael’s not really a devil anymore and what Rolan doesn’t know doesn’t hurt him.  They purchased every single scroll of Comprehend Languages the Sundries had to offer them, which means Tav actually can contribute a bit to the research. On the other hand, the tower seems to have a certain imbalance of literature about Infernal architecture and literature regarding Infernal magic. If Tav has to read about the difference between Canian and Stygian pillars again she might set something on fire. And she’s not even the devil in the room!  When she’s not bored to the brink of falling asleep (which has only happened once since their first day at the tower, mind) there’s the issue of sitting still for hours upon hours. At least at home she has the garden to tend to, her books or she can keep her hands busy in the kitchen. And she’d very much like to finish her new quilt before winter.  She knows Raphael is annoyed with her constant humming, mumbling and tapping and the fact that she has to change position at least every ten minutes or she might actually go crazy. The glares he shoots her might just send her off this plane for good. Then there’s also the detail of him being very easy to annoy, and the small tinge of satisfaction she gets whenever he voices his complaints with a deep sigh. 

tags: @elizauh @adoenamedjane @lizziemajestic and literally anyone who wants to yap a bit about their wips <3

[aranarumei]

the anomalous agate (part three)

*blows out candles* happy birthday to me! here's a gift for some of you <3

for anyone who has no idea what this is about, go here for part one

for those who do, here's the ao3 link, and if you prefer tumblr, it's just under the cut

case 2-x: the anomalous agate (part 3)

The clock had just ticked over to 4PM when Hanzawa Masato entered the shop on Sunday. I shivered at the brisk gust of wind that swept through Jewelry Étranger; Richard simply rose from his seat and said, “Welcome back, Hanzawa-san,” without a flicker of surprise on his face. 

That was my fault—I hadn’t been able to keep my mouth shut during the intervening Saturday—but it was still good to see Hanzawa in the flesh.

I’d run into Kaede on Friday, and we’d ended up grabbing lunch together. She’d been accompanied by a friend who eyed me warily before Kaede explained how the two of us knew each other, and I was comforted to know that she had people so dedicated to looking out for her. I had a feeling that wasn’t the only reason for her stare, though—the bruise on my face had darkened into a faded yet obvious purple.

As we began to eat, it was impossible to not notice the attention we’d garnered, and Kaede asked, “Does it hurt?”

“It doesn’t even sting anymore,” I told her. After diligently applying an ice pack for most of the day before, the swelling had decreased and I was pain-free, assuming no one was poking my face. “Mostly it’s just awkward. But you can’t help that.”  

At my answer, she relaxed, and we finally got around to making proper introductions. She, like Hanzawa, was a freshman in university, and—possibly like or unlike him—was studying literature. They’d ended up meeting through some mutual friends of theirs in high school, and once they’d found out that they shared the same taste in books and movies, became fast friends.

“Still, he’s pretty guarded,” Kaede said, and I wondered if her casual acknowledgment of that fact was the reason she hadn’t pressed for details on how Hanzawa and I had met. “Like, he knows so many people, but doesn’t really give off that ‘popular’ aura, you know? And he never had a girlfriend in high school—not that anyone knew of, at least.” Then she seemed to catch on to the fact that I felt awkward talking about Hanzawa when he wasn’t around, and quickly changed the subject.

We eventually started to talk about part-time jobs, and when I mentioned that I worked at a jeweler’s store, she whistled in appreciation. “Wow, that’s interesting,” she said, and I began to understand exactly why she and Hanzawa were friends. “What’s your store lighting like?”

I stared at her blankly. “The… lighting?”

“Sorry, I’m way too used to talking to other film buffs!” Kaede explained. “I was just thinking about how jewels are so hard to take photos of. It’s really difficult to capture the sparkle that you see in real-life, right?”

“Pictures definitely don’t do the real thing justice,” I agreed.

“Yeah, and I know that there’s some stuff that jewelers inspect for that requires special types of lighting, so I was wondering if there was any fancy equipment at your shop. But I’m realizing you probably don’t look at that stuff too hard, huh?”

She had the same kind of disappointment on her face as Tanimoto-san when she’d learned I couldn’t perfectly recall what metamorphism was. “I could… ask, maybe?” I offered.

“If it’s no problem!” Kaede accepted. “Lighting’s so interesting to me… it affects how things are viewed so much. Like, the type of makeup that people wear for filming differs from daily wear…” She clapped her hands together in realization. “That would be a great way to deal with your bruise, actually!” At my awkward look, she paused, and sheepishly tacked on, “Well, only if you wanted to, I guess… it’s pretty out there as far as a solution goes.”

“Ah… I kind of already bought some for that purpose,” I clarified. “So it’s a good suggestion—just one that I’ve already taken.”

“No, no, I’m glad you thought of it already!” Kaede exclaimed. “Did you shop at a store in-person? It must have been uncomfortable…”

What was really uncomfortable was maintaining the pretense that I’d thought this solution up on my own instead of being led around by Hanzawa. But judging by the fact that she hadn’t brought him up, I was pretty sure his skill with makeup wasn’t one Hanzawa often advertised.

“A little,” I said, opting for a half-truth. “At the checkout line, I got asked if I was buying the stuff for my girlfriend.”

“I guess it is uncommon to see guys buying makeup…” Kaede said, and then mumbled to herself, “But wouldn’t your bruise…?” Thankfully, she moved on from that line of thought and instead asked, “Did covering the bruise not work, since it’s still pretty obvious…?”

“It doesn’t really matter to me on the day-to-day,” I said. “But I definitely can’t work any public-facing job unless I cover my bruise.”

“Ah, I didn’t think of that!” Kaede gasped. “It’s probably good to use it sparingly, anyways—makeup isn’t that great for your skin, and I’d imagine yours is especially sensitive right now.”

“That’s good to know,” I said. “It’s been healing pretty well so far, so I don’t think I’ll have to use it much. I guess it’s because I just work security, but the television station I work at didn’t even mind—”

“You work at a television station?” Kaede interrupted, eyes gleaming in excitement.

I was surprised I hadn’t thought to bring it up earlier. It was a welcome change of topic, so I nodded.

Once again, she asked me about lighting equipment, to which I could give no answer, and she began to explain the various types of special equipment involved in filming. At a certain point, I had to awkwardly pause her explanation and point to her food, which had been left untouched for the past ten minutes.

“I got way too excited,” she admitted sheepishly when we’d finally parted ways.

“It’s alright,” I said. “I like hearing about that kind of stuff. It makes me think like… there’s just so much in the world that people don’t know.”

“I definitely feel that way, too!” Kaede said. “I mean, I know cameras fairly well, but recently I saw this interview from an audio director and realized just how much work goes into capturing and adding all the sound for films…” She managed to catch herself this time before she launched into another ramble and wished me a good day.

I wondered to myself if everyone had something they were secretly and intensely passionate about, like Kaede and Tanimoto-san. Though I’d developed a new appreciation for things after meeting Richard, I still wouldn’t consider myself a true enthusiast of anything.

It would be nice to be that way, I thought.

Later that day, I found that I’d been added to a group chat consisting of Hanzawa, Kaede, and I, where she delivered the news that the senior we’d made a report against had gotten expelled. Hanzawa replied first, sending a brief but warm congratulations, and I hesitated before doing the same. It felt strange not to acknowledge his existence directly, but I didn’t have anything I really wanted to say to him, either. Emotions were even harder to read through a screen—no matter what I said, I’d probably hit an impenetrable wall.

In the end, I simply set my phone on my nightstand and decided to sleep. I’d have to spend some time applying makeup before heading to work tomorrow, so it was best to tuck in early.

Saturday had passed, and now Hanzawa was here, entering Jewelry Étranger without even a hint of his initial hesitation. Maybe it was just my own increased sense of familiarity, but despite his calm demeanor, he didn’t look as closed off as before.

“You were looking for stud earrings, yes?” Richard asked. “I can bring out a few more, unless there’s anything in particular that caught your eye.” 

“The lapis lazuli was quite nice,” Hanzawa replied firmly. “I’d love to see more of that.”

“…Please, take a seat while I fetch them,” Richard replied, a beat too late, and then he was off, an unsteady set to his mouth. 

I supposed I’d been able to surprise him, after all. 

“Milk tea, right?” I asked, motioning to where I’d set it down on the coffee table. 

Hanzawa shrugged out of his jacket—today had brought biting wind along with the encroaching frost of mid-October weather—and laid it on the back of his chair before sitting down. “You thought ahead,” he said appreciatively. 

“Well, you said you’d come, so…” I trailed off, not wanting to spotlight our last meeting, but unable to act as if it hadn’t happened.

Maybe Hanzawa was the same, because though he’d been distantly polite to Richard, his tone was warm as he spoke to me. He held his teacup in that same delicate fashion and took a long sip as he assessed my face. Finally, he declared, “You’ve covered it up well.”

My hand strayed towards my cheek before I willed it down. “I was worried I’d messed it up because Richard noticed,” I said, “but none of the other clients seemed to.” 

Hanzawa didn’t seem surprised to learn this. “Richard-san’s quite observant; I didn’t think it would fool him.” 

And fool him it hadn’t—not even for a second. I’d come into the shop to see that a client had come a few minutes ahead of their morning appointment. At first, I’d interpreted Richard’s look of vexation as an annoyance with my lateness, even though I’d come right on time, so I simply busied myself with making tea. He’d been unusually curt with the client, though not out of the bounds of simple familiarity with a regular, and once they’d left, he’d whirled on me with a sharp look.

I’d frozen in place, pinned by the emotion I couldn’t quite place in his eyes.

“Sit down,” he’d said, and I followed his order mostly out of shock.

“…Richard?” I ventured, and then bit down a yelp of surprise when he suddenly knelt before me.

Way to give a guy zero warning. I knew that Richard disliked the ways in which his beauty isolated him, but it was seriously unfair to see his face so close.

“What happened?”

I wrenched my gaze away from the fine strands of his eyelashes. “What?”

“To your face,” Richard said. Though he spoke quietly, there was a frigid edge to his words. “What happened? Tell me everything.” 

“Ah—you mean my bruise?” I’d finally realized, and Richard’s hands shook at my confirmation. “It’s—well, remember Hanzawa?” 

After giving him a quick rundown of the events, Richard’s expression softened. He sighed, and as he pinched the bridge of his nose, asked, “Why is it that you can never seem to avoid trouble?”

I shrugged, still a little distracted by how close his face was to mine. “…Is it obvious?” I asked after a beat. Maybe it was stupid, but I really didn’t want to leave.

“You haven’t done a bad job,” Richard assured. “Tomorrow, bring your supplies to work, and I’ll do it for you.”

Now that I thought back on it, Richard had seemed rather shaken when I’d told him what had happened. I’d known that Hanzawa’s visit had bothered him, but I hadn’t expected that Richard would react to news about him with such concern. 

I tamped down another instinctive flare of jealousy and agreed with Hanzawa. “Yeah, he’s way too good at noticing things.” 

“I wonder if there’s ever a customer that finds it unnerving,” Hanzawa mused. “To be seen so well… it could be frightening.”

“In a way, I think it’s relieving,” I said, thinking about how Richard had applied my makeup with swift prowess this morning. I’d thought I’d done a good job on my own, but when I’d checked his result in the mirror, it was flawless. And he’d been gentle with the entire process, too—I’d felt fussed over in a way that was as embarrassing as it was pleasing. “I really like the way he doesn’t presume anything, so maybe that’s why I think it’s fine. Because I never feel as if I've been judged by him.” 

“What a lovely way to feel,” Hanzawa replied, savoring his milk tea with a smile. 

Our attention was both redirected to Richard, who had returned with his tamatebako in hand. An odd look was on his face—I wondered if he’d overheard us, but he opened up his tamatebako without comment or force. The earrings on display weren’t limited to just stud earrings, but were likewise simple, sparse designs that highlighted the stone in question. Gold sparked through in different patterns in each stone, and some were entirely without it, the entire rock a deep, even blue.

Hanzawa studied each set with a keen eye. “Blue’s a rather neutral color, but lapis lazuli looks so rich it borders on ostentatious,” he sighed. “Still, it is nice.”

Aren’t you fond of green? I thought to myself. But since I remembered how awkward he’d looked the last time I’d said so, I kept quiet.

“Is there something that drew you to this stone in particular?” Richard asked. 

“Like I said, it’s just such an arresting color,” Hanzawa said after a moment. “And… I was thinking a little more about what I wanted.” Maybe he’d realized he’d spoken with a bit too much bite, because he then laughed self consciously and clarified, “I guess I’m looking for something like a statement piece? Though it might seem strange to say as they’re just earrings, and not even in a particularly grand style. But this color…” 

He kept drifting towards that point. I could see where he was coming from—with the exception of some sapphires, I’d never seen such a deep blue, and the gold color scattered within lapis lazuli left a vivid impression.

“Statement pieces do tend to be on the grander side,” Richard conceded. “However, I think any piece of jewelry is its own kind of statement.” He paused, eyes flickering towards me, and tentatively added, “I’d like to believe that gems reflect the feelings of their owner.” 

“Is that so…” Hanzawa said, and in defiance of Richard’s caution, passed by his statement without further comment. “Tell me more about lapis lazuli?” he asked. “I knew about ultramarine, but I’m sure a stone like this has more history surrounding it.” 

Richard relaxed back into his chair. “Historically, lapis lazuli was central in Ancient Egypt. You’ll see it almost anywhere in many artifacts from that time period.” 

“All those gold and blue objects, then…?” 

“That would be lapis lazuli,” he confirmed. “As you can see, it was prized for its color even back then. The gold part of these objects, though, was actual gold—the flecks you see in lapis lazuli are something else.” 

“The gold color comes from… pyrite, right?” Hanzawa recalled. 

“You would be correct. Pyrite is commonly called fool’s gold, as well,” Richard explained. “It’s quite different, though—pyrite is far more brittle, and naturally forms a cubic structure, as opposed to the malleable shapes of gold. The color also tends to be lighter and more like brass.”

I vaguely remembered Tanimoto-san saying she liked the cubic structure of pyrite a while ago—I’d really have to find out what that looked like. The cubes certainly weren’t appearing in the lapis lazuli before me, after all.

“So… essentially, the name fool’s gold implies you’d have to be an idiot to be deceived by it,” Hanzawa quipped.

At that, Richard cracked a small smile. “Something like that.”

“I can’t think of an artifact I’ve seen that wasn’t uniform in its blue,” Hanzawa recalled. “Isn’t that hard to source?”

“It makes it a great deal more valuable, yes. Both pyrite and calcite are common components of lapis lazuli that can add noticeable gold or white spots. While pyrite’s inclusion doesn’t often diminish its value, an abundance of calcite in lapis lazuli would.”  

“So even something like lapis lazuli isn’t good enough to stand as is?” Hanzawa commented, without derision but with some measure of disappointment.

“To clarify,” Richard said, and it was at this point I realized that he hadn’t had the number of conversations I’d had with both Tanimoto-san and Hanzawa, “you’re speaking of the various ways in which gemstones are modified?” 

“Something like that,” Hanzawa allowed, and I wondered just how much the man before me knew about heat treatments and dyeing and cutting and polishing. 

“It is true that procedures like heat treatment influence the value of a stone,” Richard said after pondering the subject. “But no stone exists without human involvement. Each is mined or otherwise sourced, then polished and cut, and then fit into various settings. Not every jewel goes through each step of this process, but beyond that, every gemstone and jewel you encounter is prized only because someone has decided to do so.” He took a deep breath. “There is no stone in the world that exists without a human response. So, if there is a stone that is perfect untouched, then it is only because someone thinks it as such.”

Hanzawa was stunned into silence, a rare show of vulnerability cast on his face.

Richard took note and softened his voice. “So lapis lazuli’s value, like many others, arises from circumstance. It was one of the only sources for blue paint, and unlike a blue sapphire, could be carved. For those in Ancient Egypt, its rarity made it a signifier of wealth and status. Cleopatra used its powdered form as eyeshadow. Ra, the god of the sun, was often portrayed as having golden skin and lapis lazuli hair.”

“…There’s a lot of history carried in these, then.”

“Indeed.”

“I can understand why,” Hanzawa said. “In each setting, the stone looks slightly different. Like it has reinvented its image each time.” He inspected one pair of stud earrings where the pyrite gleamed in blue like a sharp crack of lightning before setting them down. “I doubt I’d fit a stone suited to royalty,” he said. He tried to couch his words in a light, self-deprecating tone, but it only worsened their effect. “I apologize.” 

“No need,” Richard said, studying Hanzawa intently. “Still, Hanzawa-san… the fact that this stone is sold here means that it cannot be just for royalty, you know?” 

“Then… if stones reflect their owner, what kind of people do you think wear lapis lazuli?” Hanzawa asked. 

Since he’d just mentioned her, my mind flashed to Cleopatra—she was certainly an image that was out of sorts with Hanzawa. But when I thought of that story regarding her pearl earrings, I felt that Hanzawa had a similar sense of pride and wit. At the very least, he could certainly match the composure of a queen.

“…I think there is not just one type of person suited to a certain kind of stone,” Richard began. “Things are not that… well, set in stone.” 

“Still,” Hanzawa pressed, “There must be some kind of consensus. Indulge a simple curiosity… what meaning is lapis lazuli associated with today?” 

“…Some claim it is helpful for mitigating insomnia and negative feelings. But as for associations with the stone itself—truth, I suppose.” 

Even a fool who thought their pyrite was gold would be able to catch the shift in Hanzawa’s expression. I realized then that even though he’d told me to tell him everything, I’d glossed over most of what I’d talked about with Hanzawa. Richard was brilliant, but he couldn’t actually read minds.

“Of course,” Hanzawa murmured, the strangled expression on his face having settled into an odd, muted reverence. “That’s why it’s so beautiful.” 

He didn’t look towards me; he knew I’d known, and he was smart enough to tell that Richard couldn’t. Client privacy was important, but half the reason I’d wanted to speak to Hanzawa was to get rid of that troubled look on Richard’s face, and here I was, mucking everything up and making the situation worse for everyone. I anticipated Hanzawa would become withdrawn and make the quickest, politest exit possible, but what he did instead was worse. 

In a single motion, Hanzawa drained his milk tea. “I’m no professional jeweler, but here’s my assessment,” he said, a resolute look on his face. “Lapis lazuli is on the delicate end. It’s flecked with fool’s gold, but not to its detriment—this makes it a stone that is as rich as it is fake. To wear it, someone must be capable of handling it with care, and grand enough to carry the attention its blue deserves.” He paused, sent a mischievous glance my way, and added, “Don’t you think Seigi would suit it well? He’s rather careful.” 

As if on autopilot, Richard scoffed and replied, “Careful?” 

Hanzawa dipped his head in agreement, though his smile was obvious. “Richard-san, I’ll defer to you opinion on him, as it’s you that knows him so dearly well.” 

Richard’s face turned slightly red—I guessed it was a bit disconcerting to respond on instinct rather than thought. In a strained voice, he offered, “Would you at least like to try on some of the earrings?”

Hanzawa stared at Richard, his momentary cheer immediately dulled. Then he smiled again, but it wasn’t friendly. He reached towards the set he’d been drawn to during conversation and tried them on without much fanfare.

Once on his ears, I thought they suited him beautifully—the gold seemed to glow under the lights of the store, and the deep color enhanced the blue tones of his irises. But once Hanzawa inspected his own visage in the mirror, his plastered-on smile flattened into a dim ghost of itself, and he shook his head. “No, I was right,” he said, and removed his earrings before either of us could say a word. “This kind of thing isn’t for me.” 

He'd become like steel; that countenance of his made it impossible to ask questions. He wished me well, and then whisked himself away, a sliver of wind wisping into the shop in his wake.

Richard lingered in front of the open tamatebako. That had been the last appointment of the day.

I sighed, unsure how to apologize, and simply said, “I’m sorry—I really thought that if he came to his appointment, it’d be…” And suddenly I realized that the more I understood Hanzawa, the less I was sure I knew.

“No… you were fine,” Richard said. “Wasn’t he comparatively talkative today?” When my frown didn’t lessen, he added, “For what it’s worth, he seemed to have opened up to you.”

“To me?”

“Well, it certainly wasn’t to me,” Richard answered with a raised eyebrow.

“Not much good it did you, though,” I muttered.

Richard sighed and motioned for me to sit next to him. I glumly pulled a chair to his side. “He entered here on a whim, the first time,” he said. “Today, I could tell that he was seriously considering what he wanted. Though I understand your disappointment, it is an honorable decision for someone to decide they aren’t ready for something.”

“You’re right,” I conceded, “but it still doesn’t feel right.”

Richard’s hand hovered by me; I wondered if he was going to poke my bruise, but he simply settled a cool hand on my shoulder. “Rather than push someone into a shaky decision or entice them into a purchase by playing to their desires… it is best when someone makes the choice on their own.”

Come to think of it, he’d called himself thoughtless for selling that amethyst to Takatsuki-san, who’d been moved by the powers it was said to possess. Hanzawa’s case was kind of the inverse situation, but he, too, had been moved—in the opposite direction. And if, like Takatsuki-san, the reason was due to an unresolved state of mind, the purchase of a jewel wouldn’t pacify it.

“…You’re way too good at logical arguments, you know,” I grumbled.

Richard squeezed my shoulder. “It’s just that you think with your heart,” he said. “But that is not a detriment—it is a strength.”

I felt my face growing warm and turned to hide my expression. “I’d better get this makeup off,” I said.

“Unique” was a lovely compliment, but somehow, the simple assurance that I was liked as I was felt twice as magical.

[jihyoruri]

I lied. cibyn analysis.

ok so cibyn…. lemme start off w this… she’s the funniest mf EVERRR😭😭her relationship with kazuha has me LAUGHING like I just know they’re like “oh my god… we should dye your hair pink….” and they both js go along w it LIKE😭 I CAN NOT W THEIR HEAD EMPTY ASSES just straight YAPPING.

and… to my girl chaewon… in my heart ik ur winning… but youre mad funny being 5’4 with a bob tryna fight a girl from nyc who is FIVE FOOT EIGHT😭😭… I know wigs would fly and cibyn would STILL be talking to kazuha like😭brawl in the waiting room she don’t even turn around..

second. she played young yeonjin in the glory. this girl has some unreal level of control w her emotions… (I think).. I think she’s very aware of who she is and what she wants, and focuses on herself more than others. not in a mean way, she’s just like… you do you, whatever you do is your own problem.

overall I think she’s a nice person though, I don’t think she’d ever be rude to someone who didn’t DESERVE it yk what I’m saying..

to be honest I think cibyn is a pretty happy person, but she definitely got some issues cause of her mother… the belief that love is useless and will only get in the way of success is a very detrimental-to-your-health kind of way to think. It seems she only feels this way about romantic love though so she does still have good friends and let’s herself care abt other people, so… it’s not all that bad.

I don’t think she’s processed her issues from her childhood so if chaewon or yunjin were to confess… I think she’d need time to process it. i think she’ll probably get w chaewon (sorry yunjin 😞you can NEVER WINNN😭😭) but I think it’ll take her some time— you can’t just let go of years of the way you were, and I don’t think she sees a reason to. I don’t think cibyn minds the way she was raised or thinks— I don’t know if she craves a relationship but it really doesn’t seem like it. overall I think she’s pretty in-tune with herself and is overall like.. happy, but I think emotionally, she’s maybe not good with emotions she’s not used to/can’t control. i think cibyn probably likes being in control.

I also think she’s smart, like.. very smart. she probably jokes around and acts ditzy and whatever but smth tells me this girl is like. QUICK with it.. maybe not academically smart (although I feel like she’d be great with numbers and practical kind of subjects, math/science, maybe not literature cause.. u gotta be kinda good w emotions for it LMFAO) but she’s definitely very aware of the way other people ACT. she may not be aware of crushes her way but I think she can tell if someone is a good person or not idk.

overall uhhh chaewon stays winning I think cibyn likes control.. but I don’t think she’s AFRAID(?) to fall in love, I just think she has an aversion to it. maybe it makes her feel weak or smth?? i can’t rlly tell cuz she’s kind of always staying silly. she may b oblivious to crushes but she’s probably veeeery intelligent. I LOVE U CIBYN‼️(I want to study her under a microscope)

-🎏

LMAOOOOO cib!yn is honestly really funny😭 she intentionally does some of things to keep her peace but anyways i really like your view on her

[kasienda]

Love Remains - Ch 5

Written for @thelibraryloser‘s birthday.

Chapters: 1 | 2 | 3 | 4 | 5 |

Read on Ao3

Chapter 5:

Thirty-Six Days Since Marinette Lost her Memory

“I’d like you to do a supplemental reading this weekend to fill in some of your historical gaps.” 

Gaps was one word for it. She took the assignment without complaint though she wasn’t sure when she’d be able to do it. 

“Girl! Why didn’t you say something?” Alya asked as they walked to their next class. 

Marinette shrugged. “Because I do want to fill in my historical gaps?” 

Like in an abstract way if she could just suddenly know it the way she knew how to swing through the city on a yo-yo. Not the I want to dedicate hours of my life to this kind of way. 

“But you don’t have to do that all in one weekend!”

“Do you think old me would have said something?” Marinette doesn’t know why she’s asking. She hates the comparisons, but it’s like a scab she can’t help but pick at it when her friends and family keep commenting on how she’s different. 

“You like the green one? I thought pink was your favorite color.” 

It was! But that didn’t mean pink was always best for every single accessory. 

“That’s a beautiful drawing,” her maman said of the sketch of her father. “Have you sketched any new designs recently?” 

She hadn’t. She didn’t want to. Clothes weren’t interesting. But she knew her mother wanted her to say yes, so she hedged. 

Lila had spilled coffee on Marinette’s bag in art class. It had definitely been on purpose. Marinette glared at the girl as she resolutely gathered all her things to clean elsewhere rather than dignifying Lila with a response. 

“That was totally on purpose. Why didn’t you say anything?” Alya had asked after the fact.

Marinette piled her bag’s belongings carefully on a bench while she wrung out the backpack itself. “Didn’t really want her to know that she was getting to me.” Marinette’s diary had revealed that when Marinette make accusations against Lila, the other girl usually managed to twist it back on Marinette. She didn’t really want to make the same mistake when Lila didn’t believe she was holding a grudge. “Why?” 

“Well, you used to always call her out on things. Chloé too.” 

Marinette sighed. At least people had stopped asking what she remembered. Maybe they had finally figured out that she really didn’t remember anything. 

But it seemed other people did and Marinette now was apparently different than the Marinette of old, and now Marinette was never sure if that was a good or bad thing.

“If old you thought the teacher was being unfair or unreasonable, she definitely would have said something, but she would have been totally silent than if she just didn’t have time.” 

And thank goodness Alya was willing to be straightforward about such questions. Her parents were not. They were so diplomatic about answering such questions, but they always seemed sad. 

She felt like she was disappointing them. 

“What do you mean? You’re not disappointing them!” Alya had objected.

“But I am. They want me to be  her, and when I’m not, they’re sad.”

“They’re just worried about you.” 

Marinette pressed her lips together. Yeah Marientte definitely knew that they were worried. Paranoid was more apt. They constantly texted, wanting to know where she was, to remind her to put on a helmet, and asking for check ins everytime a friggin’ akuma alert went off.

Which made it that much harder to get away to be Ladybug. 

And she loved being Ladybug. 

Her parents would probably be horrified. 

“I just wish being me as I am now was okay.”

“Of course it’s okay.”

“But it isn’t , Marinette insisted, wanting to tug at her pigtails. She didn’t know how to explain, and Alya was looking at her with glassy eyes and Marinette knew she was disappointing her, too, though Alya was better at hiding it than anyone.

“You know that she’s you, right?” Alya asked softly. 

Marinette shrugged. She might be, but it didn’t seem to matter to anyone else.

…

Literature had become more bearable now that they were starting a new novel. It was a story that no one in the class had read before. Marinette found the story riveting. 

“Really?” Adrien asked. They had been partnered for a small presentation on the use of imagery in the book’s first three chapters. “What’s your favorite part so far?” 

Goodness, he was so earnest. Even when they had been paired he had been so sweet about it when she was obviously the weaker link of the two of them.

“Sorry you were saddled with me for this project,” she had said.

“Marinette, you are the best partner to have in this whole world. I wouldn’t have it any other way.” 

Her cheeks had burned. Was this guy for real? She might’ve maybe understood what it was old Marinette had liked about him.

Really she probably would have fallen for him too if it wasn’t for the fact that Chat Noir was right there guarding her life and being serving as the best sounding board and confidant a girl could ask for. 

“Hey, you okay?” he asked after the most recent akuma. 

She was fine. She just didn’t want to stop being Ladybug yet. Being Ladybug made sense. Being Ladybug was simple and something she was good at. Marinette’s life was so complicated. 

“I’m okay,” she said, determined for it to be true. 

“Do you want to talk about it?”

Like, how did he do that?!

But fifteen minutes later they were sitting side by side on the Eiffel Tower each with their own ice cream cones as she vented to him about her mundane problems.

“I hate history. It’s the subject I know, like nothing about and my teacher— he’s trying to be patient, but he clearly doesn’t know what to do with me. He keeps assigning extra readings, but even when I have time to read them. They don’t mean anything.” 

“That must be frustrating.”

She snorted. Understatement. “Even places on a map feel no more real than the map at the beginning of the fantasy novel we’re reading in literature.”

“I don’t know about history itself, but maybe we could do something about the geography?” 

He stands up, and offers her a hand, which she of course takes. He pulls her to her feet like she’s a princess and pulls out a box of colored cheeses from his baton. 

“What’s that?” 

“These are power ups for our Kwamis.” 

“We can power up our Kwamis?”��

He offers her a piece of cheese. “Eat this one.” He takes one of the same color. 

Soon they’re transformed. They have airtight helmets and wings. He levitates just barely into the air. She doesn’t move, staring dumbly at his offered hand. 

“Come on. I’ll show you.” His voice resounds inside her helmet. It feels both like he’s far away and like he’s all around her. 

She again takes it, because she’d trust him to take her anywhere. 

He led her on a low altitude tour of Paris, pointing out landmarks that are historically significant. But he doesn’t just recount events. When he speaks of kings and dukes, he tells a story. And suddenly King Louis VI and King Louis the XIV are not only separated by time, but by personality and vision.

They’ve been flying for hours already, when he takes her higher. They’re above the clouds, starting to see the curvature of the earth when he points out Normandy, the United Kingdom, Germany, and Spain. 

And then they’re further out, beyond even air they can breathe, and the Earth shines below them, a glowing blue marble in a vastness of inky blackness. 

She can’t breathe as she takes in the sight. There’s a whole world down there. It’s so big, bigger than any of her problems, and yet it’s so small when they’re out here in space. 

His voice is still describing the places they can see. Continents and oceans, but she can’t process the words anymore. 

“M’lady?” he asks, floating to her side with yet another hand reaching out, offering her support again and again. 

“You’re amazing!” she says, and is awarded with pink blooming underneath his visor. And he was. How did old Marinette never see or notice?! 

He never takes anything seriously. 

He’s always cracking jokes. 

He flirts with everyone.

Marinette had slammed the diary closed after she read it. What the hell had old Marinette been talking about?!

She had started a new diary after that, and it definitely wasn’t Adrien she had been writing about. 

Looking at his eyes now, even with only five weeks of memories she’s absolutely certain he’s the sweetest, most genuine boy that lives on the planet he just showed her. And he didn’t just show it to her. He made her see it, he made it real in a way that no one else had. 

She reaches for his hand, lets their fingers interlock, and it feels right.

Holding his hand, she’s not worried about how she’s different or the same. It doesn’t matter what she remembers or has forgotten. With him, she feels like a whole complete person.

She loves that.

She loves him.

… 

[ja3gerb0mbb]

bloodsucker chapter 3: trost fair

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

word count: 4k

content warnings: none

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

it was finally friday. i didn’t have any more literature lectures to attend; giving me time to push down my emotions from the week. i’m over it. it doesn’t matter. because, well it doesn’t. who is eren to me anyway? i was doing what i always did: obsessing over situations i have no control over. convincing myself eren’s words didn’t affect me was the easiest way of dealing with it. eventually, i started to really believe it. 

“sash! get up!” i yelled, barging into her room. she was sprawled out on her bed; limbs going in every direction possible. i chuckled as her torso shot up, her eyes going wide, “what!” she spoke, exasperated. “we have chem in twenty minutes, dummy.” i left her room, walking the short distance to the kitchen. taking out two slices of bread to put in the toaster, i notice hitch walking out of her room, “morning, want any toast?”

hitch rubs at her eyes, trying to wake up. “sure, thanks,” her voice still scratchy from sleep. i throw in another slice, and turn my body fully towards her, “i feel like i never get to see you!” i kept my tone sweet, but i couldn’t help the bite that came through. 

she softly chucked, sitting down on the island barstool that finally shipped. pouring water into a glass she spoke, “yeah, i’ve actually been sleeping at alpha phi most nights.”

i remembered that was the sorority historia was in. were they getting closer? i made a mental note to watch my mouth around hitch. “oh cool, were you going to join?” if she did, would she move out? maybe sasha and i would have an extra room after all. 

“i migh-” hitch was swiftly cut off my sasha sprinting out of her room, “i totally forgot we had chem today!” she dramatically groaned. “hange’s sweet and all but damn i really don’t know what they’re talking about most the time,” she stalked her way over to the toaster, taking out the slices, putting them on one plate; attempting to save them all for herself. 

i scoff, “um, hello! two pieces are for me and hitch.” sasha whips her head toward the other side of the kitchen, spotting hitch for the first time this morning. she gave an uneasy laugh, “sorry!” hitch gave her a laugh as well, joining us on the other side, grabbing all the fixings for toast. “i gotta run to class, i’ll see you later though?” it was a question, like she didn’t know if she would be coming back tonight. hitch ran out, rawdogging the toast with no napkin or plate. 

sasha and i bid farewell before leaving ourselves. on our way to class, i warned sasha, “i know you have no filter, but keep your shit locked around hitch. i think she’s bestie-boos with historia.” sasha really doesn’t have a filter; she’ll talk about the last shit she took to a total stranger. 

she groaned, “i’ll try! she seems kinda sweet, i’m surprised she’s getting sucked into all that.” she shoved the lsat piece of bread into her mouth; which was about half the slice. her cheeks grew, trying to accompany the size.

“really? i think she’d fit in perfectly,” i laughed at my own comment. as we reached the science hall, i opened the door for sasha. “do you have classes later today,” she asked.

i thought about the empty day ahead of me. i knew my mind would start to wander back to eren with the lack of work to keep me occupied. “nope. first and only class.”

“good! we’re going to the fair in trost later,” sasha’s face lit up. the fair was annual, and you could find everyone at sina there at some point.  “ooh! the fair’s back already? who’s going?”

“the usual. your boytoy and connie. i think mikasa and armin said eren might go, but don’t get your hopes up.” the comment was laced with sarcasm, but my hopes started to soar. my pace stumbled as i tripped over my own feet. no. don’t. i tried to convince myself. you’re over it. you’re over it. i was familiar with the sound the mantra created in my mind. at this point, the phrase felt tattooed on my brain. 

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

i stared into the mirror for what felt like hours. attempting to fix every single hair out of place. “stop making out with the mirror,” sasha teased. “you look like a tool, thanks to me,” she walked over, adjusting the shirt to show more of my collarbone. i wore a miniskirt, but since it was colder out, legwarmers were scrunched up on my calves. 

giggling, i replied, “if i didn’t have you i’d be walking around naked.” sasha placed two fingers in her mouth, making an obnoxiously loud whistle; “wish we got to see more of that!” she teased further. flipping her phone over on my desk, she checked the time. “shit! jean’s already here!” she made a beeline toward the door, and i followed close behind, grabbing my purse on the way out. 

jean’s radio was blasting so loud, we could hear it halfway across the parking lot. gasolina, huh. must be connie on the aux. i laughed out loud at the thought. sash and i climbed into the car; i sat behind jean as per usual. “wassup sluts!” connie greeted us, holding his hand in the back to dap each of us up. he��s such a boy.

“damn gimmie a bite of that!” connie yelled,  gesturing to my skirt; biting his teeth together loudly to make a ‘chomp’ sound that echoed in the closed car.

“EW connie, fucking weirdo!” sasha yelled, reaching her hands on either side of his headrest, yanking each of his ears. he let out a high pitched scream, making all of us cover our ears in pain. “im trying to drive!” jean yelled back, sounding like a frustrated dad, “quiet the fuck down!” it was his turn to abuse connie, sticking his hand out and slapping it into his throat. connie clutched it dramatically, gurgling and making sounds of death

as the laughter in the car died down, i noticed three bodies missing from our party. but there was only one in particular i was concerned with. . i couldn’t figure out why i wanted eren to go so bad.  jean’s car isn’t even big enough for three people. i reminded myself. they’re just taking another car.

the rest of the long ride was full of arguing and screaming. rides with this trio usually were. “i’m so exited for the churros i haven't had any in so long,” sasha practically drooled at the thought of it. 

“we know fatass,” connie said, looking over at jean and giggling like little girls. connie began to shake in his seat at his own joke, jerking his body into the back continuously. sasha attempted to hit him from behind, but he was moving too much for any to land. “oh look, i think i can see armin’s blonde ass hair,” jean roughly pointed out of the window, and i turned my head to see. 

after glancing around, i was able to spot armin. with a raven haired girl and a moody boy with a manbun. my stomach did cartwheels and i fought the smile on my face. you don’t care. i reminded myself. jean pulled into the nearest space, and we all filed out quickly. jean gave my shoulders a shove, pushing my body forward, “move it!” he continued to poke at my back. 

“asshole!” i pushed his chest, but he’s too broad to falter. “you look good though,” he commented as he looked me up and down. 

“thats what i said!” connie yelled, before coming up to my face and licking my cheek. i stood astonished for a few moments. i heard sasha gasp before she began giggling with jean. “ew! no the fuck you didn’t std-bag!” he started running toward the entrance of the fair; i kept pace with him before jumping on his back, locking him in a chokehold. 

“mikasa! wait up!” i heard from behind me. sasha had sped up her pace too, calling over the second group. at the mention of her name, she turned around, face lighting up. “hey! you guys made it here pretty quick!” eren turned around, locking eyes with me. i faltered my hold on connie, eventually letting go and hopping off his back. 

“so did you,” jean directed to mikasa. armin made his way to me and sasha, hugging her before me. “i’m glad you guys made it!” it was weird to see the three of them together. i had gotten so used to it being mikasa and armin as just a duo. 

“ay, where my hug at armin,” connie had a false bravado, sticking his arms out. armin skipped over to connie, embracing him. we watched as his hands slipped down to connie’s ass, gripping his cheeks tightly. our group erupted in laughter from the abnormal behavior from armin; maybe he’s been spending too much time with connie. in all the greeting commotion, eren slipped away. “hurry up!” he shouted at us with a half turned head. he set the pace of the group, and we walked faster to catch up. 

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

after being at the fair for a few hours, eren was still acting like a wet blanket. if we played a game, he watched from the sidelines. going on a ride? he stood in line and skipped out as we boarded the coasters. mikasa tried her best to include him, but he just wouldn’t budge. everytime her extended arm was rejected, her and armin were visibly taken aback. hurt flashed in their eyes; they looked like kicked puppies. 

“you know he’s in my history class. i was tying my hair back and he literally called me filthy? like what is he even on?” sasha’s voice pulled me back to reality. we now stood in line for the churros sasha’s been dying to get her hands on. the three boys were engrossed in their own conversation. 

“man, floch is so wild. i try to stay at least thirty feet away at all times.” i pulled my features in disgust at the thought of him. floch had a habit of rubbing everyone the wrong way. sometimes i feel bad everyone hates him, and then he opens his mouth and i’m reminded why. “i was on my way to class and he slapped my ass. in broad daylight!” mikasa told her story, genuine awe still laced her voice. 

connie scoffed, joining in. “i expect nothing less from that pervy freak,” he turned to face us now.  

“takes one to know one,” jean poked at him. “no need to by hypocritical, jean.” connie’s voice was bitter when spitting out his name. “i know you slap y/n’s ass all the time!” he proclaimed. 

jean laughed while i gasped, punching connie in the shoulder. “you don’t get to laugh bottom!” i directed towards jean whose face became bright red in embarrassment. “aw, jean-boy’s blushing,” sasha commented, giggling at jean’s state. 

as the laughter died down, i became aware of the cold air nipping at me. the thin long sleeve definitely wasn’t enough to keep me warm. i brought my arms up to cradle my chest, rubbing the sides of my arm. “cold?” jean asked, bringing his head closer to my ear. i nodded. before he could respond, i felt something being thrown on my back. i flipped my head around, eren held his own jacket to my shoulders, ensuring it didn’t slip. 

jean rolled his eyes before walking away. jeez, lot of tension between them today. whatever their issue was, i don’t think they have plans on resolving it. i wrapped eren's jacket closer to my body. the fabric was cold, despite him wearing it, but it was a lot warmer than being exposed to the frigid air. “i’m gonna head to the bathroom,” my announcement seemed to fall on deaf ears. all but for armin who turned his head, “do you want me to walk with you?” genuine concern laced his voice. “no, i’ll be fine!”

i turn the corner after coming out of the bathroom building. immediately running into something stiff and soft. it took me aback for a moment, but i pulled away as soon as i came back to my senses. it was.. bertholdt?! he looked back at me with wide eyes, “y/n,” his voice was low, “you’re here!” he seemed to be just as taken aback as me, but eventually color spread on his face. 

“hey! who are you here with?” i asked, taking another step away after realizing how close we were. beretoldt shifted awkwardly on his feet before responding, “yeah, uh, i came with reiner.” his tone was a bit unsure. i chucked at him, “what are you on a date or something?”

his eyes blew wide before denying profusely, “what no, no! i me-” he abruptly stopped talking and i soon felt an arm sling around my shoulders. the hand slipped down my arm, pulling me into the front of a body. the grip was cold and possessive; i looked up, immediately being captured in eren's eyes. he looked my face over, almost as if checking if i was okay before staring at bertholdt. eren’s arm gripped me even tighter, if that was possible. 

the two boys started at each other; eren’s gaze was viscous but bertholdt looked like prey. “um, i was getting churros for the group,” i gulped, “wanna tag along bert?” my offer was sincere, although the gesture was made in an attempt to break the tension. he briefly met my eyes, before looking back at eren, “no, i should go back to reiner.” he lifted his hand up for a weak wave of goodbye before swiftly turning around. 

eren and i stood in the same position, staring at the now empty spot. “that was weird,” i looked back up at him. 

“yeah,” eren scoffed as a response. he rolled his eyes lightly before meeting my gaze. 

“no. you. you were weird.” eren looked at me, almost astounded that I addressed him that way. his brows furrowed; in anger or confusion i wasn’t sure. “it was weird because he wants to fuck you.” i jerked my head back in surprise, and my brows began to furrow as well. eren took my reaction as a sign to remove his grip from my arm, and i immediately craved for more contact between us. 

“and? that’s your business how..” bertholdt always acted shy like that, but even if he was ‘trying to get in my pants’ it wasn’t any of eren’s business. especially after the way he’s acted towards me. “just warning you,” he smirked coldly, mocking me. scoffing, i fully pushed away from his body and walked away. 

i felt his presence behind me. turning my head, i could see he was a few paces behind, “stalking me now?” i chuckled lowly. 

“just protecting you,” he joked back, but there was seriousness behind his tone. like he really intended to protect me. “from..” i dragged the end out, urging him to explain what he thought was so dangerous. 

“the big bad wolves,” he deadpanned. turning to look at his face, his face was stone cold and dead serious. he bore into my eyes, as i burst out in laughter at his composure.  “like beretoldt apparently!” my arms clenched my stomach and i tucked tighter into eren’s jacket. sure, bertholdt was tall but he wouldn’t hurt a fly. eren’s evaluation of him was dead wrong. 

“the biggest and the baddest,” a light smile adorned his face as he continued the joke. the first i had ever seen up close. my breath hitched in my throat. we locked eyes, before his eyes drifted to something behind me. turning my head, i attempted to see what captured his attention. the ferris wheel. we still hadn’t gone yet; the park grounds would probably be closing soon. 

“wanna go?” i ask. he turns his attention back to me, but i can see the hesitance in his eyes. “we should probably get back. don’t want anyone to worry.”

“they won’t, just send a text,” reaching out, i grabbed hold of his hand and slipped my first two fingers around his pointer. “come on,” i urged. before he started moving his feet, i had to tug his arm a few times, but he gave in, diverting his head down to hide the small smile on his face. 

the line was vacant; everyone was probably already on their way out. the ride conductor smiled at us, before extending his hand to help us in the cart, “watch you step!” i took his hand, guiding myself into the capsule’s seat. however, eren ignored his gesture, opting to get in on his own. i rolled my eyes at that. as the door shut us in, he took out his phone. “armin said they’re all gonna leave in jean’s car. i’ll just drive you back to your dorm.” he put it back in his pocket quickly, looking up at me. we stared at each other; just breathing. 

his gaze awakened the butterflies; they spread into my throat, almost suffocating me. clearing it, i broke eye contact. “how long have you been friends with them for?” eren seemed to notice my momentary discomfort. 

“i met everyone last year. jean and i had biology together and he introduced me to everyone after he leached onto me for homework answers,” i joked. i would always be thankful to jean; sina wouldn’t be the same without any of them. 

“sounds like jean,” eren scoffed; at the mere mention of jean or comparing him to a leach, i wasn’t sure. “yeah. such an ass,” i tried to break the tension, “sasha and i definitely got closest, though.” 

his eyes lit up at the mention of sasha, “it’s hard to not get along with her.” he turned his head down, attempting to cover another smile fighting its way onto his features. being stuck in a cart with eren neither of us could get out of gave me confidence to ask around his past, “how long have you known everyone?”

he twitched slightly, but eventually answered. “well, mikasa and armin as long as i can remember. i know the rest from highschool but sasha and connie were a grade below us. really it was mika and armin that got closer to the three of them than i did.” was he lying? if i hadn’t seen the picture i would’ve believed him. he has a convincing poker face. but they were definitely closer than he was letting on. 

his lie prompted a twinge of anger. first he abandons his friends and then he acts like they weren’t even that close? remembering their behavior today made me snap at him, “armin and mikasa really hurt when you weren’t here,” my confidence didn’t get me far; it came out as a whisper. his demeanor immediately changed and his posture stiffened. fuck, must’ve hit another off-limits topic. “you don’t know anything,” he practically growled. it was the most viscous i heard him speak; it almost didn’t even sound human. 

my jaw went slack. he looked back up to meet my gaze, and his face was set in its usual state. “historia’s from washington. she went to rose high school too. crazy coincidence huh, wonder if you knew each other,” his tone was even; like he could control it again. my mind started racing. it was his turn to catch me off guard. how could he know? “i-” my voice cracked. i couldn’t continue, too baffled to form a thought. 

“don’t dig around in my past, and i’ll do the same.” his face was smug now, happy he was finally able to one-up me. questions thrummed in my mind as my breathing picked up. 

i looked onto the fair below through the wires of the capsule. i took deep breathes in, trying to control the knot in my throat. you don’t care. she doesn’t matter anymore, i began repeating. pushing everything down, i focused on the stands below. i locked my eyes on a bear from the ring toss. it was the biggest one there; hanging from the highest shelf. it looked like one i had back in washington; i smiled at the thought. i refused to meet eren in the eyes, focusing on that bear until the ferris wheel completed it’s course. 

getting out first, i promptly started to make my way towards the exit, “have a good night!” the conductor bid a goodbye. i turned to wave when eren’s pace caught up to mine. he started walking in the wrong direction. “eren! wrong way dumbass,” my first words were coarse; forcing me to clear my throat again. “eren!” i yelled again, but he didn’t break his pace. what an attention whore.

giving in, i followed him, careful to keep pace between us. he marched his way over to one of the stands, hopping over the counter of the first one. it was the ring toss. he outstretched his hand, grabbing the bear on the top shelf. once it came undone, he walked over to me and outstretched his hand to offer the bear. 

“eren!” my voice was loud, and i quickly lowered it, “don't steal that! what’s wrong with you!” i looked around the fair, but no one was near us. 

he lightly laughed at me, “for the nerve i hit.” i fought the smile on my face, but it was useless. setting the pace, he changed directions to the exit. “cars this way dumbass,” he barely turned his body to mock me. an apology sat on my tongue, but i kept it back. i don’t think he likes the word sorry. 

the car ride was quiet, and the blasting heater made me truly warm for the first time tonight. the bear at my chest provided a pillow; i felt my eyes close. 

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

i awoke to a light jostling. my eyes fluttered open as i realized i was being carried. two arms were tightly gripped under my arms and legs. one of mine was hanging, the other slug around a neck. eren’s neck, i noticed as i looked up at his face. he met my eyes quickly. “you wouldn’t wake up,” he scrunched his nose in a feature akin to disgust. “heavy ass sleeper,” he muttered under his breath. i could feel him bend down, and his grip loosened. i hopped out of his arms, putting balance back on me feet. 

“my night in shining armor,” i teased him. he turned his face away, furrowing his brows. we didn’t have much further to walk; almost back at my dorm. “we still have a project to do,” eren nagged as i yawned, still not entirely awake. “i know, i know. we’ll finish it this weekend.”

jamming my keys into the door, i opened it, walking halfway inside before turning around. “night, eren.” he nodded, shoving his hands into the pockets of his jeans before walking back to the parking lot. 

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

a/n: gasolina is connie's song idec

spotify playlist

[natikoko]

2,4,6,7,10,21,23,24,29 marlon

2. describe your character's voice. do they have a voice claim?

Marlon has a german country accent masqueraded as an american brooklyn accent, her words prosed articutely and doesn’t use slang or metaphors at all. if that makes the slightest semblance of sense. she tries sounding as “inkling” as possible but is slowly growing out of it

4. what's your character's favorite recreational activity?

…not joking, she likes jumping on trampolines. I’ve mentioned before that one of marlon’s biggest problems is that she’s constantly understimulated so doing physical activities such as this helps her a lot. her mood is actually night and day after she’s jumped on it for about an hour

adrian bought her a trampoline and she jumps and flips on it for a few hours. it tuckers her out bad. she also loves cleaning if that counts

6. what is the thing your oc likes the least about themselves?

marlon hates herself. I don’t think I could make that more apparent. if she had to choose, it’d be her drinking addiction. it constantly messes up so many opportunities for her and causes rifts in her relationships

7. what is the thing your oc likes the most about themselves?

marlon really likes her attractiveness. people seem to gravitate towards her, almost unnaturally. she doesn’t know if it’s because she’s vulnerable or if people are genuinely interested in her and her patheticness, but she loves it. why do you think she had two partners once upon a time?

10. what kind of music do they enjoy?

old german cabaret music. if based in our world, megan thee stallion

21. hobbies your OC enjoys?

cleaning, organizing, reading, eating(I’m serious), studying various random topics, drinking, drinking and painting and eating cheeses, recovering old world literature and collecting samples of musical records (very expensive hobby) (she uses pearl’s money) hunting (with her bare hands) farming (with her dad)

and watching marlon brando movies

23. what are your OC’s biggest flaws and biggest strengths?

marlon’s self worth is almost nonexistent. she’s impulsive, self-destructive, sardonic and stubborn. she’s insecure and short-tempered (I named several sorry). worst part, marlon doesn’t acknowledge any of these besides the fact that she’s insecure. her explosive anger effects people dearly and she doesn’t seem to even acknowledge it, her self-destructive and impulsive nature leads to her getting into situations that genuinely threatened the livelihoods of her and those around (got into a bar fight and someone pulled out a knife and almost stabbed her) and it’s been multiple times where adrian wanted to flat out break up with her

somehow, though, despite all of these negatives… marlon is very strong-willed. she didn’t escape that metro without it. she could stop drinking if she put her mind to it and went to rehab, but she thinks it’s punishment for everything she’s done wrong

she’s proud of her strong-will, but she wonders when she’ll put it to use

24. how does your OC handle the death of someone they know?

marlon ignores it. straight up. she’d pretend that it didn’t happen and try to proceed as normal. in reality, I think it’d be shock. something very inconvenient would happen to her (she’d drop an egg on the floor) and she’d crumble and burst into tears. probably would drink the rest of the night

29. when was their first kiss?

it was at 17, with tilly. she doesn’t like talking about the rest

[thebibliomancer]

Essential Avengers: Avengers #293: AND FLIGHTS OF ANGELS...

July, 1988

THE FATE OF MARRINA!

Wait, hold up... the fate of Marrina tm? Flights of angels...? Isn’t that usually followed by sing thee to thy rest?

Yup. Yuuup. Marrina is going to die.

Shame. Shaaaame.

She seemed like she had potential as an Avenger. How long has it been since we had a married couple on the Avengers? ... Oh, when Vision and Scarlet Witch were on the team. Still, though!

But I might be jumping the gun.

Last times on Avengers: the Avengers are having a tough time lately. Because this is the character assassination era. Captain Marvel Monica Rambeau is a weak and ineffectual leader who wants to do things like... not kill Marrina. Dr Druid very much wants to kill Marrina as a first and only option and is actively undermining Monica and having ominous sex dreams. Marrina turned into a giant sea monster for some reason and has been sinking ships and destroying coastal settlements. Namor is sad because his wife doesn’t seem to love him anymore and also is a giant world-threatening monster.

Tough times.

You know who else is having tough times?

Atlantis.

Marrina is smashing them UP!

Which is pretty fascinating! It implies there’s still some of Marrina within her because no doubt she’d harbor some resentment for Atlantis giving her beloved husband the boot and elevating one of his worst enemies to the throne.

Maybe we can ignore the blatant foreshadowing and snap Marrina out of-

Oh.

This doesn’t imply anything. Dr Druid caused this, for some reason.

Ffs.

I’ll get to that when it’s relevant in the plot.

Meanwhile, Simonson gets to put on his Literature Hat by quoting Milton’s Paradise Lost regarding the biblical Leviathan which has little to do with Marrina except being a big aquatic troublemaker.

Namor shows up after Marrina has already gotten bored and wandered off and is distraught to see that Marrina is now killing people that he cares about.

Okay, not really.

But considering its her attack on Atlantis that makes Namor go rejoin the Avengers, it really does feel kind of like all that other damage and other death she’s caused bothered him significantly less.

Over at Hydrobase, Dr Drui psychically spies on Namor, satisfied that his manipulations have paid off.

He also swoons so that he can flashback to something that happened recently but that the audience doesn’t know about.

Very considerate!

Dr Druid: “Apparently only I have the will to save all who can be saved. I pray this will give me the strength to do what must be done!”

Fuck you Dr Druid Point 1: Dr Druid can use “controlled clairvoyance to find Leviathan Marrina so all that time the Avengers couldn’t find her fast enough to prevent damage, Druid was just holding out on them.

Dr Druid: “So, my terrible friend, let us see what we can do to convince the others that you are indeed a menace that must be dealt with properly!”

Fuck you Dr Druid Point 2: He lured Marrina to attack and destroy Atlantis by creating an illusion of a nice, juicy boat and since sea serpents are dumb, he just had the boat head down towards Atlantis.

Fuck you Dr Druid Point 1+2=3: Given that he can find Marrina with “controlled clairvoyance” and lure Marrina with illusion boats, he could have been finding and diverting her and saving lives this whole time. Granted, the effort seems to exhaust him. So maybe he couldn’t have kept it up for long. But he’s refusing to help to his fullest abilities and then criticizing Monica for not being interested in saving lives.

You, sir, Dr Druid, are the menace that must be dealt with properly.

Grump grump.

Anyway.

Dr Druid feels bad about being an evil shithead but comforts himself that he’s saving lives by luring Marrina to kill a bunch of Atlanteans and convincing Namor to rejoin the Avengers so Druid can convince the other Avengers that killing Marrina as their first option is the best and only option.

Dr Druid: “She is too dangerous to be allowed to roam the seas at will... while Captain Marvel wastes time and lives seeking vainly for some illusory cure for Marrina’s condition. But there is no time to waste in that direction. For I have had such dreams that foretell of grave danger in the near future... and Marrina could be just the beginning. Yet how could I convince my fellow Avengers of a threat heralded by dreams? Best to keep my own counsel... and deflect the Avengers from Captain Marvel’s useless endeavors...”

And he finds She-Hulk, Thor, and Captain Marvel talking to Dr Pym on the video phone.

Pym isn’t promising any miracles because the information they sent over was fragmentary. But he used his science brain and scienced up a possible cure. A shot in the dark really. A shot in the dark in the form several hypodermic harpoon needles that will inject Marrina with viral recombinant DNA suppressor. Which MIGHT revert her back to her previous form.

Dr Pym also warns the Avengers to obviously not stick themselves with the harpoon needles because that’d be dumb.

Can’t tell if this is a chekov’s gun or just added detail.

Like that super special dart gun in Lost World Jurassic Park that would kill a dude in less than a second if they accidentally stuck themselves with it. But then the gun never got used at all.

Anyway, Black Knight says it’ll take him a couple hours to make some bazookas to shoot these harpoon needles.

He still sees the problem that Namor will get in the way. But Namor shows up to say he’ll definitely not get in the way!

Namor: “A true monach, Dane, will sacrifice anything, even his own happiness, for the good of the subjects he rules. That is his sacred trust. And though I am no longer a monarch, am I not a guardian of Earth and its mortal inhabitants? Is my trust not as sacred?”

Thor: “Well spoken, Prince Namor. I do not bid thee welcome, for what glad greeting can cloak the grim task that confronts us -- a kinslaying. But I speak as one Avenger to another... thy sacred trust in this hour of trial is gratefully received. No other warrior would I as lief have at my side.”

Frens. Or allies. Avengers. Whatever.

Namor sweetens the rejoining deal. Not only will he be more of a help than a hindrance, he’ll also show the Avengers where Leviathan Marrina is keeping all the ships she sinks.

And he does.

The Avengers get in their QUINJET and fly to the random part of the ocean that Namor tells them.

They don’t see Marrina which could mean she’s out looking for more ships.

Thor suggests they start searching.

Dr Druid says he’ll try a clairvoyant trace. WHICH WE ALREADY KNOW HE CAN USE TO FIND HER. HE DOESN’T FIND HER HERE. THE WORST.

Black Knight cobbled together a sonar pod to scan the oceans.

And Captain Marvel nyooms out in her lightform to zoom all around the world searching the oceans.

THEY STILL DON’T FIND ANYTHING FOR HOURS.

When they eventually find her its because there’s a static patch on their scanners, since Leviathan Marrina can, for some reason, jam signals.

When the Avengers find her, she’s sinking another ship. They arrive too late to save the ship and I guess there’s no survivors in the water because they jump right to trying to harpoon dart Marrina.

The first harpoon needle shatters against her armored scales.

She-Hulk reloads the bazooka and Black Knight figures that maybe her underbelly will be more penetrable. But Leviathan Marrina twists at the last moment and the second harpoon shatters against her armored head.

Thor jumps out of the Quinjet too and starts Mjolniring Marrina in the face, trying to distract her so Black Knight can get a good shot.

Thor: “HAVE AT THEE, CREATURE OF THE DEPTHS! The Avengers shall endeavor to save thee in spite of thyself!”

Black Knight takes aim at the stunned Leviathan Marrina’s underbelly... and no luck!

Her soft underbelly is still too armored.

And now there’s only one harpoon needle left...

Leviathan Marrina rises up to try to eat the people that keep shooting at her and She-Hulk has a sudden good idea.

She-Hulk: “That’s it! Her mouth! Aim for her mouth, Dane! No armor!”

With the very last shot, Black Knight shoots Marrina in the tonsils (ouch) with the cure.

AND IT WORKS!

God only knows where her swimsuit came from when she turned back into her normal self. But she’s back to normal!

Good times are here again.

Marrina: “Oh, my love. Is this another fevered illusion... or have my fondest dreams come true?”

Namor: “Fear not, my heart. You’re safe now, I promise. And here is my kiss upon it.”

Aw, that’s nice.

Now we scene change to the Kang subplot that’s happening for some reason and I’m sure everyone is excited about.

Remember? The one with Kang-123488.23497?

That guy! That specific Kang! Also, a billion other Kangs. Too many Kangs.

Beard Kang says that its rare for Kangs to survive a council war which means that despite the point of the original Council of Kangs to be a trap to kill all Kangs but Cape Kang, there’s so many infinite Kangs that there are multiple council wars of which Kang-123488.23497 is just the latest (whatever that means in terms of a group that transcends time) survivor to be scouted to join the Council of Cross-Time Kangs.

Which is like a Council of Kangs but probably less of a trap to secretly murder its members.

Since Kang-123488.23497 or Kang has survived a council war and also killed a little baby assassin Kang, he has proven he has the stuff to join the Council of Cross-Time Kangs.

And since its a join or die situation, Kang joins.

The lady Kang is apparently Nebula Kang and she is told to escort Kang to his new quarters.

OH HI NEBULA!

(Except it isn’t really.)

(Retcon alert: it will later turn out that this Nebula is actually Ravonna, spying on the Council of Cross-Time Kangs for Immortus or something. Which does follow up on that plot thread. But at the expense of following up on the Nebula plot thread. Nebula was transported by the Beyonder to somewhere away due to Firelord’s careless words. Starfox left the Avengers to go look for her while the team went back to Earth. Wouldn’t it make this stupid new infinite Kang pile more relevant to the team if it was Nebula? This is where she wound up after the Beyonder yeeted her? And because her plot thread was never tied off, she’s back and causing trouble for the Avengers? Spoiler alert: Nebula Kang will cause trouble for the Avengers.)

OH HI NEBULA! SO THIS IS WHERE YOU’VE BEEN

Kang is confused that Nebula Kang is called Nebula so she explains that since everyone is a Kang, they choose individual names to avoid confusion.

Kang-123488.23497 decides he’s going to be Fred. Fred the Kang. Fred Kang.

As in Flintstone.

Such a choice.

Nebula Kang also tells Fred Kang that her quarters are just down the hall from his. And flirtatiously suggests he come visit her sometime so she can whisper sweet lore dumps in his ear.

I don’t know if Kangs fucking Kangs is weird or not. Nebula Kang, whether Ravonna or Nebula, isn’t Kang. So its fair game for her. But they all dress alike so its a bit narcissistic, isn’t it?

Anyway, the lore dump she wants to sweetly whisper to him is about “the deadliest weapon in the omniverse” and how the Council of Cross-Time Kangs is all about finding it.

Well, that answers my question of what the hell this organization even does.

After she returns to her quarters, Nebula Kang says there are depths to Fred that she’ll enjoy plumbing.

God, Nebula. Stop being horny.

But she sits in a comfy looking chair and puts on what looks like an airplane neck pillows so she can check on her “catspaw.”

Nebula Kang: “Becoming a member of the Kang Korps was the wisest move of my career. And seducing the future leader of the Avengers will be the second!”

AND SHE TAKES ON THE FORM OF THE SEXY OMINOUS LADY FROM DR DRUID’S OMINOUS SEX DREAMS!

GOD DAMMIT DR DRUID, YOU’RE LETTING NEBULA MANIPULATE YOU! STOP THINKING WITH YOUR DICK, YOU DICK!

Anyway.

Back at the plot, the Avengers fly Marrina toward a hospital. Namor refuses to let anyone else hold her because he’s a romantic like that.

But suddenly everything goes wrong because we’re not allowed nice things in editorial mandate land.

Marrina: “I’m cold. So cold. I feel as though a hand of ice clutches at my heart and freezes my blood!”

Namor tries to warm her up with kisses but observes that her lips are like ice.

And suddenly she freaks out, begging Namor for help while also thrashing and clawing at him.

The cure didn’t. She’s reverting to the bestial form that preceded the leviathan. And shortly after, reverting to the leviathan.

Her thrashing causes Namor to crash into the ocean.

Thor tells Namor to kill Marrina before she can become big huge large again but Namor hesitates and she becomes big huge large.

Where the fuck did the mass for that come from?

Whatever. This is the Marvel universe where Hank Pym makes conservation of mass weep like a tiny child.

Actually... Speaking of that... hey this is a dramatic moment and all... its very sad that Hank Pym’s shot in the dark cure didn’t work... Why didn’t he just send the Avengers an assload of Pym Particles?

They shrink Marrina, put her in a little terrarium, and then study her and try to cure her from a more informed point?

Dammit, Hank!

You’ll shrink Tigra later and put her in a cat carrier but you won’t shrink Marrina? Playing favorites!

Anyway, not only does Marrina grow back up to a big ol’ Leviathan, she grows bigger than she was before.

Makes no sense but sometimes writers have to force the ending they want.

See, this isn’t the same level of threat the Avengers were already dealing with. It’s an indeterminate but larger level of threat.

Thor even says that if Marrina keeps getting bigger, she may endanger THE ENTIRE EARTH! As opposed to just shipping and coastal communities.

Thor and Captain Marvel decide to unleash electricity on Marrina, hoping to electrocute her before she finishes transforming.

For some reason, Monica decides this is the time to comment that she doesn’t know if she reaaaaally believes Thor is the reeeeal Norse god of thunder. But whatever, it’s not a relevant line of thought to this situation.

Thor summons lightning with Mjolnir and Captain Marvel turns herself into electrical energy and both slam into Leviathan Marrina with a KRAKKATHOOOUM!

Ah, Simonson. If nothing else, always good with lightning noises.

Anyway, its not going to be clear until next issue but this is the end of Monica Rambeau's stint as Avengers chairwoman.

She accidentally fucked up electrifying this giant sea monster, dissipated too much of her energy, and winds up de-powered and nearly dead.

This is the character assassination era. Even in this moment, she can’t be allowed a heroic sacrifice. It has to be another colossal boneheaded Monica Rambeau pratfall.

Sigh.

We’ll get to that with issue #294.

For right now, Captain Marvel is an afterthought, lost in the confusion of everything else going on.

The massive electrocution (which remember, cost Monica her powers accidentally) does not stop Leviathan Marrina. Hell, its not even said that it significantly inconvenienced her.

So Black Knight decides that despite the curse of bad shit if it tastes blood, he must use his extremely cursed cut anything sword to kill Leviathan Marrina.

Namor stops him. Because This Is Something He Has To Do Himself.

But the thing is. Black Knight did decide to risk the effects of the curse to save the world. I’m contrasting it with Monica losing her powers because of a fuck-up.

I’m so grumpy right now.

Sigh sigh sigh.

Namor: “Marrina, my beloved. Hear me, wherever you may be. That which I swore to guard has been taken from us both... And only death now can free your soul from within this living prison! RISE LEVIATHAN! Rise up, and meet your nemesis! FOR MY BELOVED! FOR MARRINA!”

Also, Black Knight freaks out yelling about blood.

Huh. I knew there was a curse on the Ebony Blade that would activate if it ever tasted blood and that’s why Dane tended to just whack people with it.

But I don’t know if he’s ever said what the curse would do, exactly.

For starters, it seems to knock him the fuck out. And his Atomic Steed nearly plummets into the ocean before Thor catches him.

Thor comments that if the curse has really activated, he might be better off dead. So Thor apparently knows what it does.

Dangit, leaving the audience in the dark.

Leviathan Marrina isn’t quite dead because she’s quite big and takes quite a while to die.

She swims to the bottom of the ocean to where she piled all her sunken ships to die among her prizes... and her eggs.

‘TWAS A NEST!

There’s three eggs. Which hatch and the babies zoom off into the ocean depths.

One of the Avengers (it’s unclear because they’re speaking from off-panel) wonders who the father was and another Avenger says they may never know.

But judging by that one hatchling, I’d say that the father was most likely Black Panther.

No wonder Namor is so pissed off at the guy later on.

Marrina shrinks down to her pre-monsterified form (where did the mass go??) and Namor cradles her dead, deceased corpse and swears to find her babies and “teach them of their mother’s spirit.”

Presumably her Alpha Flight and Avengers spirit and not the spirit of all the ship sinking.

He also swims off to build Marrina “a bier fit for a queen... where you will rest forever amidst the coral, the sea jade, and mother-of-pearl... the most precious jewel in all the sea.”

And Namor fucks off.

So I guess he’s not actually rejoining the team.

He’s going through a lot right now so it’s understandable.

With Marrina dead and Namor fucked off, the Avengers decide to go to a hospital for Black Knight when suddenly (as the end of issue cliffhanger) Dr Druid realizes Captain Marvel never came back from that lightning thing.

Great. So not only is her depowering presented (next issue) as something that was a fuckup and not an intentional sacrifice), also none of her friends even noticed she was gone. The dude that’s been constantly undermining her was the only one that noticed.

This issue fucking sucks.

I’ll complain more about Monica’s treatment when I get to next issue but Marrina gets the short end of the stick too!

Turned into a giant, world-threatening monster for reasons of -shrug, confused grunt- and her husband is forced to kill her. After they try all of one time to cure her.

She didn’t get to do a lot in Avengers but she was an established character over in Alpha Flight and she’s being killed off as part of a story to kick Monica off the team and presumably to make Namor sad.

Stern was apparently kicked off the book for pushing back against the character assassination era but I don’t know whether Marrina was always part of Gruenwald’s plan or whether Simonson added that on.

Either way, it sucks.

I feel very negative about this stretch of comics.

Maybe things will get better. But the Worst Roster in issue #300 is upcoming. And then after a bit, John Byrne will be taking over both Avengers books.

There’s some that like John Byrne’s writing but his run contains several very irritating retcons and shifts in characterization.

We’ll see.

Follow @essential-avengers​ because where else are you going to get this level of olde Avengers coverage? The rest of the internet? Don’t be ridiculous. Like and reblog and comment, maybe.

[moonlightreal]

Reading The Secret Circle in 2023

I love this series. It was probably my first teenage witches series, it was YA before YA was really a separate genre, and LJ Smith is a solid writer. But I’m giving it a reread to see what I see, that my teenage self, who had read much less YA, didn’t see. And I’ll just write whatever comes to mind while I read.

The first thing and the main thing that made me twitch was Faye. The femme fatale of the coven, Hera the jealous goddess, boyfriend stealer and terrorizer of the school. In her first scene she’s pressuring a guy who has a girlfriend to take her out on a date, and since the whole school lives in terror of the coven’s powers the poor guy can’t say no. This is super uncomfortable.

Ms. Smith likes this femme fatale character type, she uses it again in one of the Night World books. I don’t think I’ve ever run across this kind of character in any other YA book. Faye is a very sex-positive character but also a sexual predator of unfortunate boys. She’s not a good person but she’s presented as wicked but still one of the good guys.

In the second book there’s a buck-wild scene where Faye, Suzan and Deborah play “Pizza Man He Delivers” they get the house done up like witchy love nest with candles, incense, crystals and music, and then they order six pizzas and if the delivery guys are cute they invite them in to seduce them. And I have so many questions. 1)did anybody do this in real life ever? 2)does Ms. Smith think anybody did this in real life ever? 3)how many adult films is this exact scene in? It’s straight out of a dirty video, with characters who are supposed to be 16! Ms. Smith is a much weirder writer than you might think lol.

Good girl Cassie decides this is wrong because the guys “don’t have a choice” even though they are enjoying the proceedings. The real life dangers of seducing and sleeping with random guys don’t seem to cross Cassie’s mind, so maybe their school has really bad sex ed.

But (back to slightly more serious thoughts) reading Faye it also occurs to me that she’s the femme fatale without ever being slut shamed. Her sexuality is scary but not shameful. Suzan, the voluptuous Aphrodite of the coven who barely gets a mention that doesn’t include mention of her chest size, is not really written as less-than because she likes seducing guys. In fact there’s a scene where Suzan helps the other girls get ready for the school dance and Cassie thinks, “She’d thought Suzan was just an airhead, but it wasn’t true. Suzan loved beauty and was generous about sharing it with other people.” and that is an amazing, amazing way to write the “fashion obsessed airhead” character type. Half my headcanons for Stella are based on that image that stayed in my head from the time I first read this series to the time I started watching Winx.

Each girl in the coven is based on a goddess, and they each have a signature color. This is not a bad writing trick to handle a bunch of characters and make them distinct! The third “bad girl” is Deborah the biker chick, based on Artemis the huntress. Deborah rides a motorcycle and wears itty-bitty tops and leather jackets and at one point has a leather hat with a chain on it. And she’s “not interested in boys.”

Ms. Smith was writing in the early ninties when there were “gay books” and ‘normal books” and she was writing normal books as directed by her publisher so all her characters are white-cis-het. But Deborah, while described as very pretty with a dainty face, is kind of butch. One of the boys, the cold and emotionless Nick, is described as not liking girls, but I don’t get any potentially gay vibes off him. If you wanted to read into it Nick could be ace and Deborah could certainly be a lesbian.

This made me wonder-- if she started writing again today when representation is the trend in YA literature, what would Ms. Smith think? We can’t ask her so I can only make a guess based on her writing, her blogs, and the fact that she’s no fan of Trump… I think she’d freaking love it. Ms. Smith’s jam is writing forbidden love, and now she’d have all these new kinds of couples to write and new reasons for their love to be forbidden. Thinking Night World here because that’s a series that could be expanded, what do all the supernaturals think of same-sex relationships? The witches are very traditional but same-sex relationships happen among animals so maybe the shapeshifters are chill with it. Who knows? Ms. Smith could worldbuild that stuff to her heart’s content and I think she’d have just a grand time.

LJ Smith mentioned somewhere that she put “everything I could find or make up about Wicca” into Secret Circle. There were BARELY any books about witchcraft in 1992, and I wonder what Ms. Smith could do today, when they’re everywhere and she could look up all different magical traditions. She’d have so much to work with!

So what did she have to work with? The girls use rhyming spells and lots of candles. They use herbal teas and homemade beauty products. There are circles and books of shadows. The elements and nature are mentioned a lot, but despite the girls reflecting goddesses they don’t worship the old gods.

There aren’t a lot of magic tools, interestingly. The girls use a lot of stones, each girl has a unique “working crystal” and a type of stone that they use most. Then there are the “master tools,” a set of regalia the leader of the coven wears: a bracelet, tiara and garter. Not a wand, besom or cauldron in sight! At one point one of the characters mentions typing up spells to make a “floppy disc of shadows” which is a phrase I think I read in a Silver Ravenwolf book, but I don’t think Ms. Smith read any SRW, she’d have pulled WAY more from it if she had.

But if you are, like I was, a young magic user looking for how-tos in fiction books, the Secret Circle is great. The main magical takeaway is the use of stones and crystals, which the girls use constantly. As jewelry, as pendulums, in spells, or just to hold to absorb their attributes. Each girl mentions her favorite stone at some point so whoever you are you’ll probably be inspired to use your favorite stones more often.

In fact I think I’ll drop the page from the old Circle Daybreak website here.

Finding your working crystal Each witch in the coven, male or female, also has a special stone, often of their color choice but not always. This is their working crystal, and is used to draw out their own special virtues and powers. Here are what different crystals can be used for and what they mean. You, too, can use your working crystal, in addition to wearing a certain color, to bring out these qualities in yourself.

The garnet brings circulation to normal, helps the blood clot, and purifies. It builds balance, awareness, and well-being, as well as preventing fears and insecurities. Garnets also draw out negativity, and can make one more attractive to others.

The ruby intensify love, compassion, and sexuality. It, too, brings circulation to normal, and purifies the blood. Also, rubies are high-energy stones for courage, boldness, and action. Faye likes to wear star rubies to increase her sex appeal to men.

Carnelian stimulates energy and appetite, as well as physical power and courage. It helps ground one to the physical plane, and promotes practical application of ideas. As Suzan’s crystal, perhaps this is why she has such a fondness for twinkies.

Citrine is Deborah’s crystal and may be the source of her energy. It provides a sense of stability and promotes practical application of ideas and a rational approach. Citrine also adds energy and emotional balance. It clears the body of toxins.

Topaz calms and cleanses. It relieves and balances emotional breakdowns. It aids in the healing of nervous fatigue, exhaustion, and extreme stress. Topaz also aids with headaches.

Peridot is used for clear sight and problem solving. It is a healer of the spirit and physical body. It provides protection from nervousness, and increases fearlessness and willpower. The circle uses it for dowsing. It helps with hurt feelings.

Melanie’s crystal is jade, and she uses it for mental clarity. It brings peace and calm, and has a stabilizing effect on the body. Jade also builds courage, clarity, and tranquility of the mind. It aids stomach problems.

The emerald strengthens memory, clear seeing, and wisdom. It enhances speech and creativity. Emeralds also increase intelligence, foresight, and prophecy. It aids heart problems and asthma, and eye problems.

Malachite purifies things on the material plane. Its bands provide protection of creative ideas. Malachite also promotes tranquility, success and good wealth in business. It is sometimes called lapis liguris.

Lapis Lazuli is used by vampires in The Vampire Diaries as protection from the sun. It illuminates the mind, and has purifying and healing properties. Lapis also promotes mental endurance, insight, and wisdom, as well as building good judgment and psychic abilities. It helps emotional healing.

Azurite aids in communication. It clears thoughts, and cleanses negative mental states. Azurite also aids in insight, vision, and hypnosis. It reduces stress and depression.

The sapphire aids in communication, as well as aiding clairvoyant perceptions, divine wisdom, and prophecy. It also cleanses negative mental states and disturbances. Sapphires help with nervous and mental disorders, and asthma.

Blue Topaz adds spiritual strength. It calms, sooths, and sedates. Blue topaz also brings a peaceful and natural healing state of consciousness. It builds mental clarity, and aids emotional healing.

The amethyst, Laurel’s crystal, has a calming and healing mental effect. It enhances the meditative state, and creates pure thoughts. It also adds spiritual insight and higher values, in addition to alleviating mental stress. The circle uses amethyst to ward off evil

Extra Secret Circle stuff: There was a sequel series written by Aubrey Clark. They are not very good. I did have them from the library but it was some years back so my memories are vague. Ms. Clark did her best but she just doesn’t have Ms. Smith’s gift for getting the characters right. She also killed off some characters, I think Suzan didn’t make it, which sucks.

Ms Clark brought two new things to the series: the concept of witch hunters and Scarlett, Cassie’s half-sister. My first reaction was, “Ha-ha, Mary Sue long lost sister!” but… it’s actually a pretty valid idea. Bringing in a child of Black John is a good way to add something new and connect to the original villain without bringing him back from the dead, and Scarlett can start evil and then be turned to good. Valid plot! I, uh, don’t remember if that actually happened in the sequel series, but the idea’s good.

There was a TV show. I was excited to learn this—but I learned it too late and could only find a middle episode and something I forget what about the plot annoyed me so much that I never tried to find the rest. I really probably should at least watch episode one, give it a chance, but the CW’s style is just so not my jam.

I’ve read that the show and the sequel books have similar plot points so that could explain some of the sequels’ events, if Ms. Clark was writing to tie in with the show.

[motownfiction]

the trade

All her life, Lucy’s parents told her a lot about the trade.

About how some insecure academics would tell you that you can never admit it if you like teaching (You can). About how publish-or-perish is mostly real, but very few candidates fresh on the job market have more than a piece or two on their resumes. About how the ranking of your school doesn’t matter as much as the research fit, as much as who has the money for you to come study there. Lucy took some of these secrets to heart; others, she ignored (as evidenced by her almost meltdown when she was accepted at Wayne State for a terminal master’s and not to Michigan for their accelerated Ph.D. a few years back). But now that she’s at NYU, a year and a half into her doctoral studies, she realizes just how little they prepared her for this part.

She’s worked with a lot of students by now, but none have gravitated toward her so much as Nikki Fredericks. Nikki was in Lucy’s first-year writing class last year. She comes from Toledo, Ohio, she has purple hair, and she wants to be a poet (“But my mom says I have to become a teacher first,” she said in the middle of their first writing conference last fall, dejected as can be). It’s no matter. Nikki is a poet at heart. Even her research papers sing off the page. It’s raw talent, unshaped, but Lucy doesn’t see any problem with that. She’s still unpolished in so many ways. But for all the good students she’s had in semesters gone by, Nikki is the first one who seems to really care. Nikki is the first one whom Lucy sees like a mentee.

And she has loved every second of it.

Will loves to see her inspired like this. He reminds her that she’s always wanted to be needed. The way he says it, it sounds like a warning. But it doesn’t bother Lucy much. It’s good to help people. It’s good to help students. And if Nikki Fredericks wants Lucy’s help, then so be it. She’s going to give it to her. The world deserves to hear her voice.

Whose voice? Will asks one night when Lucy is looking over Nikki’s paper for another class. Hers or yours?

Lucy doesn’t answer that question.

Nikki took her other composition class in the spring of that year, and this fall, she’s taking Lucy’s introductory literature course. It becomes a little inside joke. Nikki is the one constant in Lucy’s schedule, the paper she’ll always know she’ll enjoy the most in a wide-variety stack, the person she’ll always know in the middle of those first-day ice breakers. Lucy loved being that student in her own undergraduate classes. Now that she’s the instructor … it’s not the power that she likes. It’s the way she’s able to see herself make a difference, the way she’s able to be the teacher she always wanted.

In the spring, Lucy’s leading discussion sections in a British literature survey. It’s the closest they’ve ever let a second-year doctoral student come to teaching a survey course, as she’ll tell anyone who will listen (so mostly Will). She mentions something to Nikki after class when Nikki comes up to her desk and asks if she can look over her thesis statement for the upcoming essay on Othello. She expects Nikki to say yes, she’ll register, no problem. But she doesn’t.

Instead, she shuffles her feet at the front of the classroom and says that even though she knows she’d mostly be dealing with Lucy, she’s heard some really tough things about the main instructor. So she’s going to take the American literature survey instead.

“But I’ll keep in touch with you!” Nikki promises. “Like … how could I not?”

Lucy nods. She thinks it’s really polite that Nikki would say that, would let her believe for even half a second that she’ll stay her mentor (if she ever was in the first place). But Lucy knows better. She knows that when Nikki Fredericks drops off her Blue Book on the last day of the semester, that will be the last time she and Lucy ever really see each other. And even though she’s said goodbye to plenty of students before, none of those other students were so smart. None of those other students seemed to care that she was the teacher.

She tells Will she’s not that sad about it. That she understands. And on some level, she does. But when Will hands her a cup of tea and sits down beside her on the couch, she realizes just how tense she’s been … how much she can feel herself getting old, already, at twenty-five.

“They’re always going to move on,” he says, “but that doesn’t mean they forget you.”

Lucy sighs into the clouds above her vanilla tea.

If only her parents had prepared her for these parts of the trade. The personal ones. The heartbreaking ones. If only they’d warned her.

Then maybe she wouldn’t have to sigh into her tea.

(part of @nosebleedclub january challenge -- day xxviii!)

[snowangeldotmp3]

cowboy like me 👀 show me the goods liv

🫡 here's a rough snippet for u alex! (these are really more like character introductions more than anything lol but!!)

steve harrington is a changed man. a reformed man, if you will. not in the good, christian sense of the word, but he was a changed man. a better man than he had been, he knew that for damn sure.

sure, his circle of friends looked…different than his previous friends, but he wouldn’t trade it for the world. if anything, they’re the reason why he’s become a better man. they’re a bunch of little shits, but he wouldn’t trade them for the world.

he met them a couple years ago, while trying to reconcile with the woman who left him at the altar, nancy wheeler.

****

robin buckley was a different kind of woman. never prim, never proper. always considered peculiar, more boyish than her mother would’ve preferred. took an interest in literature and languages rather than boys and being a proper lady or whatever.

she was a lesbian, she knew that from a very young age. men were just gross.

oh, and she was also a werewolf. so you know, that tends to further ostracize one from society.

she was bitten when she was fifteen, not even old enough to get married, and it had been an…interesting discovery to say the least.

at first, she genuinely thought she was going to die. she’d been bitten by what she thought was a dog in the woods a few days prior, and was convinced that it was without a doubt rabies.

luckily for her it wasn’t! it was lycanthropy. who knew?

she doesn’t like to dwell on it. as her luck might have it, she, as far as she knew, she was not a very violent werewolf. she could be, if she wanted to be, but it just simply wasn’t her nature.

**** nancy wheeler did not want to ever see hawkins again as long as she lived.

when nancy met steve he was an asshole. a downright son of a bitch. but she went along with it because what else was she to do? she had the most sought after man in the town, she couldn’t afford to lose him! her reputation would be in shambles, her family would be embarrassed (well, maybe not mike, he didn’t care[ nancy gets her monster training from murray bauman.]).

maybe she should’ve felt embarrassed about leaving him at the altar, or maybe something akin to regret but, she couldn’t find it in herself to actually regret it. she’d felt free when she left him, like some unnamed weight had suddenly lifted from her shoulders.

looking back, nancy knew what it was--she didn’t love him.

that sounds harsh, but it’s true. at least, she could never have loved him the way he could her. she didn’t like men. at all, it seemed.

there was also the fact that steve had so much trauma attached to him, not fully on his part either. you see, when steve and nancy were still dating, nancy’s childhood friend, barbara holland, disappeared without a trace. nancy, having a curious mind and a strong instinct, fuelled by her grief, sought out to find her missing best friend.

and she did. nancy found barbara holland in the woods, with two puncture wounds on her jugular.

though nancy did not literally kill her, she did feel some sort of responsibility for her death. steve told her to ignore it, that there was nothing they could do. nancy though, has never been particularly good at listening. she headed straight to the library, and did the most research she could.

the preacher never let barb’s disappearance go, always talking about some evil in hawkins, an evil in the world that must be snuffed out.

turns out, the preacher was right, there is an evil in this world. maybe not  the evil that he was talking about, but there is evil in this world.

monsters, it seemed, were real. realer than anything those preachers could’ve ever imagined.

and nancy intended to put a stop to them.

****

eddie munson, insofar as he knows, is the only one of his kind. a vampire. has been for a little while now. he knows for sure though, that he’s not the one responsible for the murders happening in hawkins…

[ladyhindsight]

I’ve finished the book, so I’m going to keep firing these away until this delirious nightmare is finally over.

Clary has taken a taxi from the diner and now arrived at the Institute to see Jace. Jace, however, is not present because he is currently bothering Simon with his presence. Clary, in mean time, snoops about Jace’s room and narrates the deep reasons for his tidiness.

Because people cannot keep their room clean and orderly or alphabetize their literature collection without having deep-seated childhood trauma. Jace is just a quirky boy like that. Though it is not that this is out of ordinary nor that character’s neatness shouldn’t have a deeper meaning. It is that Jace is the only character whose actions are a specific point of focus and explained in detail, because he is Clare’s darling.

After being done with going through Jace’s box, Clary then bumps into Luke who is there to see Maryse. Maryse appears, and there are couple points I originally didn’t bother to point out, but surprise, I didn’t manage to get over them:

          Maryse Lightwood stood in the doorway, her hand lightly on the frame. She was wearing gloves, pale gray gloves that matched her tailored gray suit. Clary wondered if Maryse ever wore jeans. She had never seen Isabelle and Alec’s mother in anything but power suits or gear. “Clary,” she said. “I didn’t realize you were here.”           Clary felt herself flush. Maryse didn’t seem to mind her coming and going, but then, Maryse had never really acknowledged Clary’s relationship with Jace at all. It was hard to blame her. Maryse was still coping with Max’s death, which had been only six weeks ago, and she was doing it alone, with Robert Lightwood still in Idris. She had bigger things on her mind than Jace’s love life.

→ Again with the Isabelle and Alec’s mother though she is equally Jace’s → Like if the situation was someway else she’d otherwise blame her? → Robert is doing it alone as well in Idris

They then discuss the current problem of the two dead Shadowhunters.

I don’t understand this conclusion. It sounds like someone is trying to set the Downworlders up so the Nephilim would believe they are under attack by them. Nothing in this suggests the Downworlders would be up at each other’s faces over couple dead Shadowhunters on their respective territories. It would be more reasonable to assume, the Downworlders being subjected to the Nephilim government and power, that they are being set up to have problems with the Nephilim. 

Thanks for telling, though, once again, you’ve shown. Deleting this makes the passage better.

We then cut to Simon.

Simon is having YA protagonist moment with a mirror.

Jace washing his face in a sink is written as a comparison because Simon couldn’t have witnessed it (Simon could’ve heard it though and thus known it). Because it is a comparison, though it tries to tell a fact, it sounds just oddly specific instead of strictly what Jace did.

This is Simon’s point of view. Why did he shake his head? Simon would know that, not give us a comparison to why he actually did it. Did he shake his head to clear it? Say it so. Is there some other reason he shook his head? Say it so. 

Simon being aware how little he can narrate Jace’s character is interesting. Clary is written so unbelievably intuitive in the first three installments, especially in City of Bones. She is written declaring facts about characters like Jace and Valentine she could not possibly know for certainty that these facts are presented. So instead of Clare actually being aware of that fact, it seems more like a sly way to contrast how absolutely Clary knows Jace and Simon, not even a friend, doesn’t.

Simon and Jace leave to go grocery shopping, because Jace is visibly tormented and has not eaten since yesterday.

The mystery of Jordan’s true identity truly renders these characters incredibly dumb. No one’s first name is on a buzzer. The only logical conclusion would’ve been: “Doesn’t he have a first name?”

But then Simon would have to ask about it, and the secret would be revealed before the dramatic moment. All I’m saying is, this subplot is poorly reasoned and constructed and makes the characters idiots in order to maintain the mystery.

This is irrelevant. This is such a needless, idle, absolutely futile detail that I cannot comprehend why this is being told. Of course it is the same jacket. Jace has not gone home in meantime to change his clothes.

When Clare writes things like this, she wants you to pay attention to the fact that they did, in fact, say the exact same thing. It is not eerie, it is hand-holding and not trusting your readers to realize the similarity. It is not echoing the same words, it is Clare desperately wanting you to see how Clary and Jace think alike, because she simply can’t risk the chance that some readers might miss it and thus, her efforts to prop up their relationship would go unnoticed.

Clare is also acutely aware how flawed Jace’s logic is but also tries to logic this dumb logic away with Jace wanting to punish himself by not being with Clary. How sad. Jace truly is tormented. Bring out the violins, boys.

Concurrency. Simon is following Jace in, so he is at the door. Following in, he is not yet inside the store. Simon can’t grab a cart near the front door while also following Jace in. 

→ Jace shoved the door open. Simon followed him in and grabbed a miniature wheeled silver cart. → Jace shoved the door open, and Simon followed him in. He grabbed a miniature wheeled silver cart...”

Because he was a vampire. Nothing to do with vampirism will go unexplained. Ever. 

He no longer needed to breath. Because he was a vampire. He did not hear Raphael’s breathing over the line. Raphael didn’t need to breath. Because he was a vampire. Simon’s chest constricted, but not because he needed to breath anymore. He was a, you guessed it, a vampire. Simon is hungry, but not for food. Because he is a vampire. No matter how many times it has already been told that Simon is craving for blood, it is the utmost importance for you to remember that he cannot eat food. Because he is a vampire.

I can’t find proper words for this thought I have about this. Clare often uses other, often irrelevant characters to prop up her own darlings. Because this was already a thing in City of Bones, where Clary felt the need to “turn traitor against her own gender” because some girls found Jace hot and whispered about it (and Clary was jealous), it comes off as an unsubtle attempt at making Jace appear desirable like no other character is. By extension propping up Clary because Clary got to have Jace and not these generic giggling girls with push-up bras.

We are also constantly operating in the area of plausible deniability when it comes to Jace’s looks, a trick Clare loves as if she doesn’t make the rules. Jace is objectively hot, not because the writing has made him beautiful and desirable, but because other characters find him beautiful and desirable. Not that you have written those characters to behave so to back up your own claim and the jealous narrative you’ve created.

We cut back to Clary. She’s arrived at the Silent City with Luke and Maryse to wake the dead and have them spill the tea.

In City of Ashes, whenever they speak about the killing of the Silent Brothers:

“We need to get out of here. If there’s something out there nasty enough to kill the Silent Brothers, it’ll make short work of us.”

“Why would anyone murder the Silent Brothers? They’re not warriors, they don’t carry battle Marks—”

Someone wanted something from the Bone City and was willing to kill the Silent Brothers to get it.

“Valentine took the Mortal Sword. That’s why he killed the Silent Brothers.”

“He couldn’t have killed the Brothers. They were torn apart. No one person could have done all that.”

“So you’re saying that Valentine told you all this? He told you he killed the Silent Brothers because he wanted the Angel’s Sword?”

 “Last night the Silent Brothers were slaughtered as well, and none of them were drained of blood.

Do these leave an impression of some of the Silent Brothers surviving because they weren’t present at the Silent City at the time? When there is no reaction from the Silent Brothers that survived even in City of Glass? Especially when in City of Glass it is said:

“We assume Valentine wants it,” said Isabelle, “but that doesn’t help much, since no one’s got a clue where it is. The Silent Brothers might have had an idea, but Valentine killed them all. There won’t be more for at least a little while.”

“After I heard that Valentine had killed the Silent Brothers—that he had the Mortal Sword—I knew he would go after the Mortal Glass next.

This is just backpedaling because Clare concocted The Infernal Devices.

Hi, Jem. 👋

Why can’t Clary just be Jocelyn’s daughter, so we wouldn’t have to suffer every time Valentine is brought up and see Jocelyn always being cast aside from the parenting equation.

→ The chill of the marble radiated through her shirt as she leaned over...

→ This close, she could see details—that His hair had been reddish brown and his throat had been torn clean...

It sure is a terrible suddenness when it’s being told.

As the gasp would indicate. It also could indicate that Maryse is surprised but the Terrible Suddenness of the dead person waking up. But this chapter is intent on shitting on Maryse, so obviously she just didn’t really believe the unbeliever she is.

So now that they have done what they came to do, the corpse is being difficult with feeling all the pain of his death, so Maryse manhandles him and forces it to answer who killed him.

Aside from the fact that Luke in the books is such a bland character, this hoity-toity, morally superior attitude is not getting any likes from me. What Luke is essentially saying is that, once they had already committed a horrible act of waking up a corpse, they should’ve just shrugged and left because they didn’t get their answers the nice way? My girl Maryse just gets shit done. Luke has also gotten shit done in horrible way, but now is the time to act morally better? Piss off.

Cut back to Simon and Jace and their third-wheeling friend, Jace’s Torment.

The man who was just as much of a zealot as Valentine and did everything Valentine ordered him to do? The man who died despising Downworlders as much as Valentine did (for all Jace knows)? The man that you have never met and share no bond with and are connected to only by blood that means absolutely fuck all? (Except when you’re Herondale, obviously) You feel like you are betraying that man just because he is your biological parent? Piss off.

I don’t know why you don’t know how reflections work. There is only one pair of eyes that can be looking at Simon, and unless Jace is whipping his head around to look at Simon directly and through the reflection, this is physical impossibility.

Going back to the earlier chapter, why didn’t Simon smell the “lemony tang that was peculiar to the werewolves”? Plot reasons, that’s why.

Cut back to Luke and Clary driving home.

I don’t know what Luke expected. The dead man to just wake up and say, yes, it was this person called Camille who killed me, good day? Just because it didn’t go nicely, it doesn’t mean it was futile effort. Maryse made sure of that.

This part just highlights how broken the Lightwood family is. Maryse handles New York alone. Robert is also dealing with things alone in Idris. Alec has hopped off to a vacation and Isabelle is doing who knows what aside from meeting up with Simon. It is not the focus of the story, but the story doesn’t really acknowledge the fact that right at this moment, their family is completely torn.

The Seeliee Queen has already been sowing seeds of discord, and now the Lightwood family tragedy is used to underscore Clary and Jace’s loves-me-loves-me-not drama. Fantastic how bad and self-centered the writing can be.