#and he's using his knowledge to help people!!!

[maybefae]

If you were written into a book, what would be the story? (Fictional tropes?)

Pile 1 - Pile 2- Pile 3

Remember, this is a general reading and it may not resonate for everyone or completely. Tarot is a tool to help guide but you are responsible for your actions and life, you choose your path.

Pile 1

Tarot: King of Wands, The Tower, Three of Pentacles, Ten of Cups, Two of Swords, Five of Cups, Page of Swords, Three of Cups, Temperance, The Empress, Ten of Cups, Ace of Cups, Two of Wands, Judgement, The Sun

Oracle: The Cartographer, The Founder, The Scholar, The Captain

I am getting two versions but with the same “ending.” And I originally was gonna use the deck I picked for your pile a couple days ago but I kept shuffling and nothing was coming through so I had to use a different deck. But some of the previous cards did come through! I believe that the deck situation does actually play into the story I am getting too. 

The situation has to do with a switch in power. This story starts with a king and this king could either be your husband in this book or your father. (I’ll let you guys decide what version you like best.) 

If it was your husband, this was an arranged marriage and one you really didn’t get much of a say in. Your family could’ve needed financial help and you being married off to royalty probably helped them. You probably went through with it just so your family would be happy. But the king was selfish, wouldn’t see any other way but his. He didn’t care much about you, liked the look of you on his arm, but would bed any other woman or person he’d like because he’s king. You didn’t have room to grow during this part of the story.

However, there is a turning point where you had enough or your kingdom was in trouble with his ruling and you end up killing him. And you probably made this murder look like an accident. I do have the idea that you probably had a servant or night that helped. This knight could be a love interest that you end up with in the future. But this is your big tower moment where you then are put into power without much knowledge on how to rule. 

But the people of the kingdom as well as the workers that were for you and the King actually adored you. They knew how disgusting, selfish, and greedy the King was; they saw how the King treated you. That’s how he treated them as well! And so the workers helped you, taught you how to rule. And you did a lot of studying, independently but also getting word from around town. I’m not gonna say that it was easy being put in a position of power, but you did it as gracefully as you could. It has a lot of found family vibes. The other kingdoms may have had an issue that you actually helped your people and weren’t greedy and self-centered but there are also hints that you actually end up uniting a bunch of lands. But you did grow into a well-loved ruler.

It’s like the quote, “Is it better to be feared or to be loved?” And in your case, it’s better to be loved because the people would go to lengths to defend you and the land. They have something to be proud of. 

If you wanted a love interest, I believe you get one and I have a feeling it is the knight I picked up on earlier. Or there could be a character added later on for book two of your story.

Pile 2

Tarot: Knight of Pentacles (The Entertainer), Wheel of Fortune (Life Map), Eight of Cups, Three of Pentacles, Page of Wands (The Wanderer), Nine of Pentacles, The Tower (The Shore), King of Wands (The Protector), Five of Cups, Seven of Cups, The Hierophant (The Phoenix)

Oracle: The Pathless, The Fate, The Alchemist, The Walker, The Sentinel

So I wanna start with the fact that there are two cards about “fate” here. And there is a blatant story that is shown here. This story has to do with time travel and you, as a character, having a hard time accepting fate. 

In this story, you have a partner that you were madly in love with, as were they with you. But this could be a historical fiction where they are drafted or they sign up to go to war. And while they were deployed, they would send letters promising a future. However, you end up getting news that they died in war. And you are hysterical. You don’t want to believe it’s real and will go to whatever lengths to get them back. 

Thus, this is where the time travel part comes in. I don’t necessarily know how time travel would happen in this book but I keep getting the vision of you going through time line after time line trying to find the one where they survive and make it back from war. A time line where you both can live out the future you planned. But each one, they end up dying. And your character is supposed to accept this moment as a thing that was supposed to happen. No matter if you went back and changed something in the past, it was bound to happen anyway. It’s like you can’t change someone else’s life. Your love wasn’t wasted. And I see a being, personified death, try to tell you this and you’re just sobbing and begging death for help. But it’s like you just ask, “What am I supposed to do?” And you don’t ask how you can bring your lover back. You want to know how to live. And Death ends up telling you something, but in my vision it’s like it zoomed out and I can see the both of you. His mouth is moving while you look at him, listening to his advice. But I can’t hear it.

It reminds me of the letter a soldier wrote to his lover.

Pile 3

Tarot: Nine of Cups, Seven of Cups, Page of Wands, Nine of Pentacles, Nine of Swords, Two of Swords, The Star, Ace of Pentacles, King of Swords, The Hierophant. Page of Swords, Eight of Pentacles

Oracle: The Waker, The Sentinel, The Chiromancer, The Miser, The Guide

I’m getting a few books or pieces of media that can correlate: Pride and Prejudice, Little Women (Jo and Laurie in particular), and Anthony and Kate (Bridgerton).

I believe that your story revolves around the complexities of the “older sister” role. You are the character that needs to control and look after everything or else you think the world will fall apart. But there is also an energy here of high standards and “why do I need a lover if I already have everything I need?” or the anger of someone wanting to come in, love and take care of you but you get angry because you have had to do it all by yourself. The anger of wanting this person when you needed them but now you don’t anymore, so fuck off. 

This pile is definitely for the enemies-to-lovers fanatics. There is an energy here of one-sided feelings but it’s more that your character does like this person but the unchecked/unhealed anger overrides all good feelings. This story is a journey of letting go and letting yourself be loved despite how uncomfortable and scary it is. The female rage, the anger of the older sibling…figuring out how to deal with the anger, letting go of control now that you don’t need to live in survival mode anymore. It’s the older version of you protecting a younger version of you, protecting your heart…

The love interest is charming. They can come off cocky and a flirt but may say things the wrong way which makes you “hate” this person. You think they’re a town bicycle, everyone gets a ride with them. But they truly do have feelings for you. They like the chase and fall deeper in love with you the more they have to work to break down your walls so you can see how serious they are. There could be events in the book where they come around to help and they could be the only ones that do come around to help you when everyone else is blind to your struggles and pain. And over the course of the book, you see that and finally take down your wall, slowly, brick-by-brick. And even if they like the chase, they don’t lose feelings when they finally get to hold you in their arms. They are completely serious, completely in love with you. And you get to have the safe home you’ve always dreamt of in the end. They are your defenders, even though they know you can handle yourself. The slow burn was worth it, I promise. 

Decks Used:  Ophida Rosa Tarot by Leila and Olive, The Rider-Waite Tarot Deck, The Citadel: A Fantasy Oracle by Fez Inkwright, Ethereal Visions Illuminated Tarot Deck by Matt Hughes Dividers: @inklore

[aquaticmercy]

Waste a Moment / Part 7

Summary : Bucky had always kept his distance, but seeing you get hurt on a mission changed everything. For the first time, he has a chance to start over with you.

Pairing : Bucky Barnes x avenger!reader (she/her) 

Warnings/tags : Mentions of food. Cursing. Memory loss. Head injury. Reader used to work in a museum.

Requested by :  @remoony

Word count : 2.9k

Note : This chapter was quite nice to write. I’ve never had siblings but I’ve had people who I thought of as siblings so I hope the work translates to the reader and Yelena. Enjoy! 

Series Masterlist

“How did You Find Me?”

Tuesday.

Eventually, it was time for you to move back to your apartment. You knew it was coming, but the knowledge didn’t make it easier. 

You had spent far more time at Bucky’s than you intended. His presence had become a comfort to the quiet confusion you occupied.

The day of the move, Bucky was there, as he had always been.

As you stood in the foreign space of your apartment, he was there— helping you rebuild the space a version of you once called home.

The two of you worked in near silence, the kind that had become comfortable. 

Every now and then, he’d ask where something should go. You wouldn’t know, so you just pointed at where you thought made the most sense.

There was something methodical about the process of unpacking and rearranging. Back at the museum, you loved cataloging, so this should have been soothing. But it wasn’t. 

As you placed your clothes back into drawers and rearranged ornamental things on the shelves, you couldn’t shake the feeling that you were putting together a puzzle with missing pieces.

Bucky didn’t ask how you were, didn’t try to force a conversation you weren’t ready for. 

He just helped. 

He dusted the shelves you hadn’t touched in months. He wiped down the counters that gathered layers of dust. Every now and then, you caught him checking to make sure you were okay. 

By the time the apartment was mostly back in order, the sun had set. 

This space, once yours, felt like it belonged to a stranger. This sense of detachment was unsettling, like you were an outsider looking in.

Bucky moved towards the door, though he hadn’t opened it yet. He stood there, hands shoved deep into the pockets of his slightly torn jacket.

“It looks like it used to,” he said quietly. You glanced at him, then back at the room. You nodded, trusting that it did.

Bucky took a small step toward the door. He opened his mouth as if he was about to say goodbye, but his eyes told you he didn’t really want to go. 

“I’m gonna miss you,” he said finally. He stood there, one foot in your apartment and the other in the hallway.

You felt a flutter of panic that made your chest tighten. The thought of him leaving— of being alone in this empty space— was unbearable. 

Before you could stop yourself, the words tumbled out. “Do you think… Can you stay? M-maybe for a couple weeks?”

Bucky blinked, surprised by your request. 

For a moment, you worried you’d said too much, that you’d crossed a line.

“I don’t know if I’m ready to be alone yet,” you admitted, your voice barely above a whisper. 

The tension in his muscles melted away as he took a slow step toward you.  

When he spoke again, his voice was gentle. “Of course.” He said, “I’ll stay as long as you need.”

Wednesday.

Exhaustion finally pulled you into a restless sleep, but you didn't find any peace. 

It was the concrete again, heavy against your body. It collapsed around you, trapping you in a suffocating darkness. The cold scrape of rubble, the crushing weight, your muffled screams—  it was too much to process. You were desperate to escape. You were struggling to breathe. 

Then, you saw a tall figure walking towards you— Bucky! 

But the walls began to close in completely before he could get to you.

Suddenly, you felt rough hands on your shoulders, shaking you firmly. The world around you started to dissolve. 

You found yourself fighting against the intrusion.

You swung in self defense, fist connecting with something solid. A sharp grunt of pain finally pulled you back into the present. 

Jolting awake, you realized you were in your bedroom. Bucky crouched next to you, clutching his jaw.

“Oh, God—Bucky! I’m so sorry—I didn’t mean—” you stammered, horrified.

His eyes softened relieved that you were awake, despite the slight bruise. 

He waved it off.” It’s okay,” he murmured, taking the punch surprisingly well. “I’ve had worse.”

You looked at the clock on your bedside table that read 01.00 AM. 

Had you only been asleep for two hours? 

“You were having a nightmare,” he told you.

You sat up, clutching the blankets to your chest. You couldn’t remember all the details, but terror settled in your bones anyway.

“I’m gonna stay here,” he said. His voice was calm, almost casual, almost waiting for your permission. “Just in case.”

Maybe you should just tell him to go back to the guest room, brush it all off with a forced laugh, or apologize profusely for punching him.

But the idea of being alone again, left to wrestle with the dark corners of your mind, was unbearable. 

You managed a nod. 

He eased himself beside you. He stayed above the covers, respecting the boundary between your space and his.

For a while, neither of you spoke. Bucky simply leaned back, propping himself on one arm, his other hand close to yours but not quite touching.

Eventually, he broke the silence. “Do you want to talk about it?”

You shook your head. It was too soon to put the fear into words. Bucky nodded, and you were grateful for it. He leaned back, his head resting against the headboard.

After a few moments, you let out a shaky breath.

“Close your eyes,” he murmured. “I’m right here.”

Slowly, hesitantly, you let your eyes shut, listening to the calm, reassuring sound of his breathing. Each rise and fall of his chest became an anchor, something to focus on beyond the remnants of your nightmare. 

The bed dipped slightly as he adjusted, inching closer. His human hand laid next to yours, a quiet offer of comfort if you wanted it.

Finally, you shifted closer, curling into the warmth of his presence. His arm wrapped around you, gentle and protective.

You didn’t think you could fall asleep again, but with him there, the crushing weight in your chest began to ease.

“I’m not going anywhere,” he whispered.

Saturday.

You started feeling at home again. 

As your eyes drifted to the former winter soldier readjusting flowers in your vase, you started to think that  maybe home didn't mean a place. Maybe home, to you, was a person.

Each morning he made you coffee, handing you a mug without a word. He offered to help with laundry. Slowly, he started moving his things here. His clothes. His toothbrush. His shoes.

He didn’t hover, but he was always around, as if he could tell when the walls began to feel like they were closing in. Sometimes, he’d catch you staring out the window, lost in thought, and he’d nudge you gently. Other times, he’d suggest small things to keep you anchored—a walk around the block, a stop at the corner store for groceries, or a quiet evening watching old movies. 

Today, you had trailed your fingers on his jaw, looking at the spot you had punched him in your sleep several days ago. You were amazed at how the bruise that formed was no longer there. Guess it made sense— super soldier healing and all. 

If only the bruises in your mind healed that quickly.

The nightmares didn’t vanish, but they started to lose their edge. When they came, they didn’t feel quite as suffocating, partly because when you’d wake, he’d be there.

He stayed in the guest room most nights, but if you needed him, he’d be there without question, laying with you until morning.

He tried to act as if he was happy with this being casual, being platonic. 

Sure.

Sunday.

Today, you found yourselves on the couch after a long day of training. Bucky had brought over a couple of old records he’d picked up from his storage room, and you both took turns picking the next one to play. 

At one point, you caught him watching you. 

When you looked over, he didn’t look away, didn’t try to hide the way he was studying your how your eyes lingered on his. 

After a moment, Bucky’s expression grew thoughtful.

“You know, that nightmare you keep having... with the concrete ?” He paused, meeting your eyes, weighing whether he should continue. “That’s actually what happened during the mission.”

You felt your chest tighten. "What do you mean?"

“I was part of the rescue team that went in to get you out.” He took a steadying breath. “I was the one who found you underneath the rubble.”

“You… saved me,” you whispered, trying to piece everything together. “I must’ve hit my head before you got there. I think I— I’ve lost them by then..”

He nodded, “You said you see me in your dreams sometimes,” His voice softened. “I was probably the first person you saw after hitting your head.”

Oh.

Bucky had been your first new memory in four years, the first face you’d seen after the darkness. All the quiet pull you’d felt toward him suddenly made sense. 

The strange safety you felt with Bucky—finally made sense. For once, something made sense.

It’s been so fucking long since anything made sense.

Tears slid down your cheeks, slow at first, then everything spilled over. 

The sobs came hard. When your shoulders shook, Bucky pulled you into his arms without hesitation. His hand moved gently along your back as the record skipped quietly in the background. 

He didn’t say a word. He just held you, knowing how much you needed this release. 

When the tears finally eased, you managed a weak, watery laugh. “So,” you joked. “I basically imprinted on you like a little gosling.”

He chuckled. “Lucky me.”

Monday.

The museum was unusually quiet, just the soft hum of ventilation and the muffled steps of a few wandering visitors. Maybe the laugh of a couple school kids pointing at the Homo Erectus display. 

You said hi to Alex before making your way in. 

You and Yelena moved through the halls. She had suggested the museum for your post-training catch-up today, knowing how familiar this place was to you. 

As you strolled through the Ancient Greek exhibit, you pointed at a sculpture that caught your attention.

"That's Mnemosyne," you said, "The goddess of memory."

Yelena looked at the statue with a curious squint. “There’s actually one for that?”

You nodded, feeling a faint sense of purpose as you explained. “In Orphism, which is this really interesting ancient Greek tradition, they believed the newly dead would drink from the River Lethe, which would make them forget their past lives. But if you drank from the river of memory—Mnemosyne—you’d remember everything and be free from the cycle of reincarnation.”

She turned to you, giving a small, almost mischievous smile. “And here you are, teaching me about memory after you’ve lost four years of it. Irony’s got a sense of humour.”

You chuckled, though the joke stung. “Drinking from Mnemosyne’s river would be pretty useful right about now.” Your tone was light, but the longing was unmistakable.

Yelena looked back at the statue. “Maybe you’re not supposed to get those years back,” she said thoughtfully. “Maybe… they’re not important.”

There was a comfort in her words, as if forgetting allowed you to live in the present. To be new. To be whoever you decided you wanted to be.

After a while, you both settled on a bench in a quieter part of the gallery. The moment felt calm, with only the gaze of painted portraits and ancient relics to overhear you. 

“I’ve been meaning to tell you something,” you started, the words slipping out quietly. “It’s about Bucky.”

Her brow lifted slightly, leaning in. “Oh?”

“He’s been staying with me.” You took a deep breath. “Sometimes he stays in my room. He’s been helping me regulate my nightmares.”

Yelena listened, her features falling as she gave you a small nod of encouragement.

"I think…” you trailed off, heart fluttering nervously, “I think I’m falling in love with him.”

Yelena’s expression stayed steady, but her eyes sharpened a bit. She nodded, but her face was unreadable.

“I’m happy for you,” she said, though there was a hint of hesitation that you didn’t catch. “You sound… at peace with him.”

Relief washed over you in waves. Yelena’s support mattered to you in ways you didn’t quite understand.

“I feel safe with him,” you admitted, a smile spreading across your face. “I don’t know how to tell him yet, but… it’s just nice to feel… something real.”

She reached across, giving your hand a small squeeze. “You deserve to feel safe.” 

Her fingers lingered hesitantly before she let go.

An edge flicked behind Yelena’s eyes, a tension you couldn’t quite place. You thought it was just worry, the way she’d been looking out for you ever since everything went blank. 

But her mind was piecing together things she knew about Bucky that you’d forgotten— that she wasn’t sure you were ready to hear.

As you shared more— about how Bucky had held you through the worst of your nightmares, how he stayed without ever asking anything in return— she listened. 

She didn’t want to shatter the peace you’d found, not when you were finally beginning to reclaim your life. 

Still, she knew there were parts of Bucky that could change everything if they came to light.

She had thought, naively, that Bucky would tell you. Maybe he was just waiting for the right moment

But the way you spoke about him made it clear he wouldn’t.

Wednesday.

Yelena found Sam in the gym, his back to her as he worked through the last of his reps. 

Sam took a seat on the bench, ready to hear her out. 

She didn’t waste any time. She said your name, voice barely above a whisper.

Sam knew Yelena was protective of you, especially now, after everything you’d been through. "Go on," he coaxed.

Yelena’s hands clenched into fists. 

"She’s falling in love with Barnes, Sam." Her voice wavered, and she looked away for a second, like the thought of you being hurt was something she couldn’t bear. "But she doesn’t know what he was like before."

Sam’s shoulders slumped.

“I know,” he started. “But I don’t think he’s just pretending to care."

“But she doesn’t know.” Yelena’s voice cracked. "She doesn’t know he’s… he’s just trying to undo the damage he caused in the first place. I can’t let her fall for someone who’s hiding her own past from her." She took a shaky breath, blinking back the tears. 

You were the first person who came as close as a sister to her since Natasha... and losing the last four years you had together had been harder on her than she'd like to admit. Losing you to grief, losing your trust? That would break Yelena.  "She deserves the whole story. She deserves a choice.”

“It’s not that simple.” Sam looked away, his hand rubbing the back of his neck. "I saw him. In the hospital, before she woke up. He was there, holding her hand, talking to her for days as if she could hear. He wouldn’t leave. He wouldn’t let her be alone."

Bucky had faced what she couldn’t bring herself to — he’d seen you at your lowest, at the brink of death. When Yelena first heard what had happened, she had locked herself to waste away in her apartment, sinking to the floor as sobs destroyed her body. 

She couldn’t go to see you— how could she?

She couldn’t bring herself to see even a hint of bruising on you. Couldn’t bear to witness the blood pooling on your head, the cuts on your limbs.

Hearing Sam tell her what happened to you had reminded her of losing Natasha.

The fear had paralyzed her. She couldn’t bear to see you unconscious, clinging to life by a fragile thread.

She hadn’t been there then, but Bucky had.

"It doesn’t change what he’s hiding.” She murmured, barely audible. “If he really cares about her, then he should be brave enough to tell her the truth.” Her voice trembled. “If she finds out he’s only with her to make up for his mistakes, to… to fix some guilt inside him, it’ll destroy her.”

No one’s allowed to destroy her, she thought, not after everything she had been through. 

“It's not just guilt.” Sam insisted. "Every time I see them together, it doesn’t look like he’s trying to atone. I know Bucky much better than you do. It looks like he’d finally realised what he’d— that he’d… that he loves her.”

No, Yelena thought. She knew he always had feelings for you but there's no way he loves you more than I do. 

She’d been there first; she knew you better than anyone, knew the sound of your laughter and the quiet sadness you tried to hide. She had loved you, the way she’d loved Natasha—like family. You were her sister in every way but blood.

But now, watching the way you talked about Bucky, the way he seemed to carry your pain as if it were his own... 

Maybe he did love you more, in ways she couldn’t, in ways she’d never even considered. 

“He still needs to tell her the truth,” her voice was much softer now,  though no less fierce. “He owes her that much."

“Then talk to him,” Sam nodded. “Make him see what’s at stake.”

“And if he doesn’t tell her?” Yelena blinked. "I can’t watch her fall apart. Not again."

“Neither can I.” Sam’s voice strained as he packed his things into his duffel bag, "But let him try. Give him more time.”

Time.

Yelena knew better than most people that time was just a cruel joke running circles around mortals like her.

And she was getting impatient.

-to be continued…

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[iridescentmirrorsgenshin]

Hi! Thank you so much for all your analysis, I really enjoy them!! Did you find it strange when Alhaitham, at the end of the event, said he is not interested in visiting the temple of Silence for that gem? Because Alhaitham has always been one to pursue knowledge (sometimes to the extreme, i.g archon quest, where he offers to be taken as a hostage instead to learn more about the truth) Even Kaveh was confused by his answer. I wonder if Alhaitham only meant it in a "I wouldn't go through the trouble JUST for this gem" or if this might be a potential hint to his next storyquest? Idk, it just stood out to me that even Kaveh commented on it, when he knows Alhaitham the best.

i'm glad you enjoy them, thank you so much!! anon this is a delicious sumptuous question, this ??? inkling has been rattling around in my head since finishing the quest, so thank you for giving me a chance to break my own thoughts down about this!

alhaitham's own thoughts about the wedjat eye are that there is little more research to be carried out, as the wedjat eye is perceived as a piece of history, whose purpose and meaning has already been identified - and this can contrast against his active research pursuit with the forbidden canned knowledge capsules as it was uncertain what danger they posed, and the root of the danger

but kaveh points out (as you rightfully say) that since the gem is a legendary historical artifact, it's strange that alhaitham isn't interested in at least seeing it, to which alhaitham states that he refuses to go to the temple of silence to do so because it's too far for him, which is so funny to me??

as if he isn't seen roaming around in the desert and going on research trips to ruins in his character trailer, as well as the latter part of the archon quest taking place in the desert. i suppose that since alhaitham had personal motives to be in the desert these times, and, apparently the wedjat eye doesn't particularly interest him, that he isn't willing to make the journey this time, okay give us nothing!!!

alhaitham brings up the chance of the wedjat eye being brought to the akademiya for appraisal, and says that in that case, he would take a look, as he likes to know when interesting things are brought to the akademiya - which can be seen as well in his story quest, where he keeps files on interest on his desk that the player can read

i think it's interesting that it is sethos himself who directly invites alhaitham to look at the wedjat eye for research when it's now contained in the temple of silence, as in cyno's second story quest, when the temple of silence is explored, sethos gives cyno and lord kusanali permission to choose people deemed "worthy" to pursue knowledge in the temple of silence, warning that they must be careful with their choice of candidates

cyno then extends this invitation to kaveh and alhaitham, with them seemingly being these 'candidates', as kaveh says he is interested in visiting the temple of silence in order to look through ancient documents, with cyno saying "that day will come" which seems to imply the temple of silence being at the centre of some future event

each sumeru event (an odd textual mystery and now nahida's birthday event) since then has, of course, included sethos, as he is now a mainline sumeru cast character, and the mention of the wedjat eye now belonging to the temple of silence is consistent with maintaining the organisation as a pivotal part of sumeru

whilst alhaitham's reluctance to physically go there seems to be for comedic purposes, in line with him not helping with the celebrations as it isn't part of his job description (oh but you can head on over to port ormos for no apparent reason to yap with kaveh and leave to go back to the house of daena? like it's a brisk stroll away?? SICK!) i think it's very likely that we'll get more of an exploration of the temple silence in future events (or perhaps a sethos hangout which i am once again asking for), especially (as you say) alhaitham is associated with pursuing knowledge, and the temple of silence is described by sethos to be the hub of this, i'll assume that there has to be something there that entices him to make the journey

as for the wedjat eye being brought to the akademiya, i'm not so sure if this will be explored in an event or character story? the purpose of it seems to be fully explored in this event, with candace being the only one to be able to operate it, and with alhaitham saying that there's no need to study it further could be a narrative choice of essentially wrapping up this story thread - but who knows?? (thinking along these lines, it's notable that candace shows the wedjat eye to the traveller and paimon, but doesn't reveal it to alhaitham and kaveh when directly discussing it, ensuring that the two never see it...? worms in brain actually)

going back to the temple of silence, the information it actually possesses regarding king deshret's civilisation being a mystery, as well as the wedjat eye being a gift from king deshret now being contained there, (along with mehrak's core being from king deshret's civilisation which i think would be very !!! to explore), is really interesting to me, especially with the emphasis on there coming a 'day' in which it's possible for the temple of silence to be explored by the main crew, or those that cyno and nahida select as candidates. i'm very much hopeful that hoyo will fulfill this foreshadowing!!

[rainybyday]

me have another 2am thought

Anyways, Rin is training to be a medic-nin right? I just thought this was the best way for Rin to get closer to Kakashi because of his trauma.

my thought process:

Rin is a child shinobi that grew up in war, moreover, she is training to be a medic-nin in wartime. Now, when you are learning something that is very sensitive and possibly life-altering like medical knowledge in wartime you have to be very knowledgeable so that 1) you can heal your soldiers faster and efficiently, 2) not have to replace your soldiers from multiple deaths, 3) would be considered more advances in military efficiency compared to other hidden villages. Especially when the hidden leaf grew up with the living legend of Tsunade, meaning most medical knowledge is very highly known and advancing more quickly with the wartime crunch.

What I'm getting at is that medical knowledge should be highly advance when Rin starts her training. However, as said before, she has to understand medical knowledge to start the practical medical process.

Let me propose this: Rin has seen many mentally unstable shinobi because of the tragedy of war.

Maybe this might seem extreme but so is using children to go on a mission that is to be the turning point of the war and not a shinobi that is more highly advanced and fully capable of in acting it, not preteens who barely advance into another rank.

So Rin has seen many horrors of the human mind from those that they lost, physical injuries, and to the deaths they committed by their hands. Wartime is not stable for the fragile minds of children who grew up in war. Hence, I think Rin has seen and mostly helped and shadowed many nurses and doctors to help their patients as much as possible before they are forced to enter the battlefield once more.

I think Rin might feel like a failure in some sense, to see these people she could help but also can not. She has to send them off to a place that was the reason for causing their minds to slowly break, not knowing if they would come back or if she sent them to their death.

If obito can have inseacureties about his clan, and Kakashi with his father, then I would make it so rin's struggle is trying to save those she was trained to save but can't.

This would honestly make more sense if it were applied to how Rin tried to save Obito and her sacrifice for the village. Maybe she thought she could finally save people even though no one would know her name, even if she hurt her last friend, even if she would never open her eyes.

(and now i have 2am tears, god damn )

So this is how I connect this thought process:

Rin doesn't see the effect of Sakumo on Kakashi. Well... yes she has since she did know him when he was younger but let me rephrase that. Rin sees Kakashi as a cool and amazing person, even when she enters the academy and is placed into a team with him, he is still 'cool' and 'amazing' and 'skilled'. She, like Obito, might have never heard of Sakumo's death and thought that this was how Kakashi had grown up to be. Or she just thought this is how Kakashi has grown up to be through the natural change of growing up like any other kid and might not have questioned it.

But what after she started to learn medical information? People don't usually know what is wrong with the people closest to us, we excuse their behaviors as "Oh, that's just like them" or "Oh they've always been like that". Rin could have thought of this or she was just blind to Kakashi's struggles because she herself is still a child, a child who thought very highly of Kakashi and might have seen him in some sort of hero-worship. We are often blind to those we hold close to because we always see them in one type of light that we don't see other 'discoveries' about them.

But anyway, I think Kakashi acting all jumpy and weary and even scared at Obito would make Rin see Kakashi in another light. One that matches her patients. Of course, it's going to take a while because, after all, she has been holding Kakashi on this pedestal majority of her life, but she will see the signs.

She will feel shocked, and maybe a bit of denial because how can Kakashi, genius and perfect Kakashi Hatake, have ptsd/trauma. Much less with Obito of all people!

But she will look, she will watch, and see that he acts like this when Obito is most angry when he yells or shouts when he blames him or calls him out. She will see Kakashi become tense and still, how he always keeps an eye on Obito and is tip-toeing around him instead of aggravating him.

She will see how fucken terrified Kakashi is of Obito and think.

Why is Kakashi scared when Obito yells? Why is he so quiet all of a sudden? Why is he so twitchy as of late? Why does he have dark eye bags under his eyes? Why does he look like he is losing weight?

Why does Kakashi look like a dead man walking?

It scares her, it scares her a lot.

Kakashi is starting to look like the shinobi she treated but can't truly heal or save. He looks like he is consistently being hunted by a nightmare like he doesn't want to live, like he is the last man alive.

Rin is scared, scared that someone she grew up with, seen, and became friends with (at least she hopes they are friends) is now looking like the people she has failed.

Then she started to think, is this the last time I see him? Will he be back? Is this the last time I ever see him again?

Those thoughts haunt her.

And her mind steeled itself to one though.

I won't fail him, I won't.

a question but also an idea dump

has there been a Kakashi time travel fic to his time in Team Minato and he's scared or overly cautious of Obito? Like I'v seen a couple where he is just either very nice to his team mates or he's going through trauma hell to be very jumpy over everything. But like, is there one where he is just kind of fresh out of the war or during the fourth war and the first thing he wakes up to is his old team?

Minato which, while dead, he still saw and had some sort of closure with him

Rin, depending on when he traveled back, is a girl he spent years regretting her death but understood through years of friends helping him that she made that choice, or saw her ghost, and is stable now of his feelings about her

Obito on the other hand? Obito who he despaired for years, who he based his personality and character on, who turned out to be the killer of his second family, who hurt his village and friends, who started a world with the world, who wanted him to essentially kill him (the same way he did with Rin), and if we go further, who died after he saved his students when Kakashi was willing to be that sacrifices instead.

Honestly, I think he would have fresher newer trauma from Obito all over again. I think Kakashi would have spiraled if Obito lived after the war, yes maybe he will forgive him or whatnot but you can't tell me he wouldn't have some sort of complicated resentment for all that he did and the impact it had in some sort of twisted way in his life. Kakashi is a shinobi, he is an adult, he has trauma. He will not just feel one type of emotion for other people because he himself knows to see the world in a shades of gray. But emotions are a funny think and they take time to react and mask them.

So imagine Kakashi back to his younger days and the first thing he sees is Obito yelling at him, getting angry at him, blaming him

You know what most people talk about when it comes to trauma? Flashbacks. But for Kakashi, he's flashback was real and staring right back at him.

He will attack Obito, maybe run, maybe keep fighting him, to kill or defend himself? I don't know, you usually don't know when you are faced with the face of your trauma yelling right in your face when you are at your most vulnerable.

Needless to say, Team Minato is very concerned for their youngest.

[zaine-m]

I love the juxtaposition of how disability is seen in Piltover vs Zaun in season one of Arcane. The ableism that exists in Piltover is much more based in societal expectations of your worth being based on you fitting into the norm whereas the ableism that exists in the undercity is much more based in capitalism expectations of your worth being based on your output. There are 4 characters that I think really show how disability is treated in their city, Viktor, Sevika, Heimerdinger, and Huck.

(Also I'll give a disclaimer that I'm not physically disabled so I'm not that knowledgeable on this but I wanted to share my thoughts)

Viktor and Sevika both have similar roles as the right hand man of the 'leader' of their nation but Sevika gets so much more respect than Viktor because the undercity is socially accepting of disabilities. When Finn wants change he goes directly to Sevika whereas when Mel wants something she refuses to even respond to Viktor. Sevika commands respect while Viktor is treated as a second class citizen. Even though Sevika has a job that should be more affected by her disability she's able to get an enhanced prosthetic made specifically for her. Viktor gets some medical care but it's far from enough as we see his body physically degrade a lot over his time in Piltover and we see that when he really needs medical help he has to go to the undercity to get that help.

But Zaun isn't free from ableism it just shows it in a much more capitalist way, 'you only matter if you can produce output'. Huck (the shimmer addict) isn't disabled when we first see him, just physically weak but because Zaun has such a high expectation for physical abilities he is forced to use substances that end up causing him to become physically disabled and dependent on them. This is similar to how in our 40 hour work week society even abled people can be burnt out by their work. Even though Sevika is the one who is physically disabled because she is able to produce output after getting a prosthetic because Huck's physical weakness cannot be helped by a simple aid he is forced to use destructive substances that send him into poverty.

Heimerdinger is an interesting character because physically at his height and proportions he would be disabled (at least in our world) and the city he built does mainly house people with different proportions than him. But we rarely see him struggle, he seems to have to run to keep up with the guards but they make sure he doesn't fall behind. We see that his door has lower locks to accommodate him but we also see he has the same chairs as everyone else. Both Viktor and Heimerdinger have bodies that make is physically harder for them to move around spaces but because Viktor is seen as disabled and Heimerdinger's differences are seen as a normal variation Heimerdinger is able to get accommodations and respect while Viktor is not.

I think these differences in the two cities really reflect how a society's willingness to accommodate a disability is more based on their ability to accept people whose bodies deviate from the norm than on how hard making those accommodations actually are.

[literary-motif]

Act II — The Clouds

Scene ii — The Wraiths 

previous scene // overview // read on ao3 // next scene

Warnings: guns

You let the VW door fall shut behind you, the feeling of being under observation immediately palpable. Tara’s people were not subtle. As you stood before the bulletproof car — decidedly before it — you could not help the feeling of being exposed, making the hairs on the back of your neck stand up. 

Asirel came to stand beside you as you looked up at the golden letters, shining a solid white once the sky darkened. The Quetza Hotel. It was less impressive than you remembered, or perhaps you had gotten used to the quiet elegance of Atlantis, unimpressed by whatever tried to imitate its grandiose charm. 

There was a biker next to the large Roman staircase, standing by his polished black motorcycle. You could not see his eyes, hidden beneath the helmet, but you felt his gaze burning into you. 

“See the guy over there?” you asked quietly, leaning closer to Asirel and brushing down your coat to clear it of invisible dust. You were stalling, allowing the gang a few minutes to gather, and prepare their little play of intimidation — you expected nothing else from Tara, no matter the hidden gentleness she had shown you many times; this was business — before you would make your way to the entrance and get straight to the point.

“Yes,” Asirel said, not daring to lower his gaze from the golden letters above. He was tense, painfully aware of just how defenseless he was. 

You turned to face the biker, walking up to him with intention. Asirel shuffled to follow, his heartbeat loud in his ears as he wondered what exactly you were doing, walking into danger like that. 

“James,” you greeted, coming to stand a few paces before him. “What a surprise to see you here. I thought you’d be holed up in your office fawning over Excel spreadsheets.”

Silence, but you could see the almost unnoticeable clenching of his fist. On the surface, he seemed unfazed, but you could see the disdain on his lips as he tilted his head and pulled up his visor. 

“Likewise,” he said, ignoring the second half of your comment. A few strands of brown hair were plastered to his forehead. His eyes were sharp as he glared at you with the cold gaze you were sure he wore when pouring over his work as a financial advisor. His eyes flickered to Asirel. “Brought your pet?” 

You felt Asirel stiffen beside you. 

“How is your nephew?” you asked drily, the corners of your mouth twisting upwards when his eyes widened in alarm. 

Perhaps it had been a bad idea to reveal your card like this. It was a rather delicious surprise that never got old: flaunting knowledge in their face that you — by all rights — should not have. And this was a particular secret you had kept close to your chest for years. 

James straightened, drawing himself up to his full height. One hand went to his hip, where you could see the outline of his gun. The warning was clear. Tread carefully. You were under no illusion that he would shoot you in an instant if you posed a threat to his family.

You held his gaze, blinking at him unimpressed. “I’m here to meet Tara.”

He scoffed. “Tara’s busy.”

“She will have to reschedule. This cannot wait,” you said. This should have been sufficient time for them to be prepared for your arrival. You walked towards the staircase, watching Asirel move as well after a moment’s hesitation.

James did not follow. 

“How brave of you to turn your back on someone with a gun, ready to take aim and fire at us,” Asirel hissed, searching the glass of the hotel door to look behind him in its reflection. James was still standing beside his motorcycle, gun decidedly not raised to tear him open. “Won’t being here with you put a target on my back? More than this, in the metaphorical sense.”

You kept walking, not glancing behind you. “Sometimes we need to take risks, Asirel.”

He did not look reassured. 

“Relax. You are safe with me. This does not work if you do not trust me,” you said, pushing open the double door to the lobby, noting the absence of a doorman. 

The lobby was surprisingly empty for such a large hotel chain, and you stepped onto the purple carpet, leading across the tiles of green marble towards the brown and golden reception desk. There was a large staircase leading upwards, the golden banister polished to a shine. It practically sparkled in the light from the chandelier above. 

You made no secret of your arrival, directly walking towards the grim-looking treasurer of the Wraiths standing at the reception. They glanced up as they saw you approach, lowering their gaze towards the register again, feigning to be busy. Their uniform was navy blue, adorned with black buttons that bounced lightly as they turned the page, scribbling something in the margin of the thick, red register.

“I’m here to see Tara,” you said, suppressing the urge to ring the golden bell beside you as they did not look up when you spoke. 

“Tara’s busy,” they said dismissively, not raising their head as they continued writing. 

You waited a moment, looking at the movements of the pen as they ceased, but the treasurer did not look up, instead turning the page to read something else. You had had enough. 

“Look me in the eye when you lie to me,” you said harshly, clicking your tongue as you saw their head snap up instinctively before resentment clouded their eyes for having given in so quickly. “Now let’s try that again. I’m here to see Tara, presently. It is pressing.”

The treasurer looked at you unfazed. “However pressing it may be for you, it is—”

You took a glance around the room. Not much had changed since you’d been there last, meaning the lounge she used for meetings was still behind the sliding wood door to your right. “In here?” you interrupted them, raising your hand towards it.

They followed your movement, hesitating a second too long. “She is not there,” they said, keeping their eyes on the door. 

You shook your head with a scoff, giving them a displeased look as you walked towards it, ignoring their protests as you slid it open. 

Why everything had to be a game of lies and pretend with the gangs, you could never understand. It was a chaotic business, aggravating and dangerous. The members were volatile. You could not know for certain that the treasurer was not about to pull out a gun and shoot you the moment your back was turned — but you did know Tara, and that eased your mind. 

Of course, she was in the lounge, just like you had assumed. 

Tara sat on one of the mint green couches, cradling a cup of steaming tea. Her brown hair framed her face loosely, the strands barely reaching the black suit jacket she wore. “You could have knocked,” she said, taking a sip of her tea as her brown eyes snapped up to study you. 

Security was stationed in every corner of the room, ominously peering over you in what you thought was supposed to be a show of her upper hand. 

It made you smile in amusement, picturing how they had scrambled into the room once they had seen your car approach. How they had waited with bated breath until you were done antagonizing James, slipping past the treasurer until they could give you their best dark glare. It was a pretense, an act. 

Still, you knew their guns to be real ��� locked and loaded.

Asirel was on your heels. You let him step inside, sliding the door shut behind him. “All this for us?” you teased, gesturing around the room towards the security as you made your way further inside. “My, my, Tara. You honor me. It’s not as if I’ve started carrying a gun since the last time we met.”

“I like to play it safe with you,” she said, her gaze flickering to Asirel before settling on you again. “It’s not every day you grace my humble hotel with your presence. Who have you brought?”

“A close colleague, Asirel Cain. Now, tell me” — you said, sitting down on the mint green couch in front of hers, subtly brushing over the cushion beside you to motion for Asirel to sit down as well — “What is this I hear about a blackout?”

Her expression darkened, eyebrows furrowing in displeasure at the reminder of the latest little catastrophe that had plagued her life, no doubt still pulling at the strings to clean up the mess left by the confrontation. She took another sip of her tea. “A minor strife, nothing to bother you with,” she said. 

“Oh, but it bothers me greatly,” you said, reaching a hand into your coat. 

The security tensed immediately. You watched as they reached for their guns, and you pulled out an envelope. They eyed it — the large guy in the corner in front of you breaking his poker face to frown in confusion — and observed keenly as you retrieved a handful of pictures, spreading them on the coffee table and presenting them to Tara. 

“It bothers me greatly,” you reiterated, “when two of the most important gangs in the city go at each other’s throats and kill half a dozen civilians. How difficult do you think that is to keep out of the papers!”

“That’s not what happened!” she spat, glancing at the pictures briefly. She knew the damage the blackout had caused firsthand and had spent all night working out a plan to fix it again. 

The issue was more complex than you presented it. Part of her thought that you knew. It would not be the first time you hid behind supposed ignorance, not letting on how deep your understanding of the issue went in favor of manipulating your way through the conversation. 

“Regardless,” you said sternly, watching her bristle at your tone. “Tell me it won’t happen again.”

Her jaw clenched, lips pressing together in a thin line. Her eyes remained fixed on you, their sharp coldness replaced with quietly burning anger as she glared at you. 

“I cannot speak for the others,” she said, her voice steady despite her fury. “Perhaps you’ll swing by and talk to them yourself while you’re in the city? I’m sure you could use some of the stuff in their basement. Might help to take the edge off.”

You scoffed, ignoring her attempt to rile you up. “Come to an agreement with them. A truce,” you said, motioning towards the pictures. “I’m tired of watching you run around like lunatics, setting cars on fire and blowing up shops.”

“We do neither!” she said, afterward taking a deep breath. 

It would not do to have anger cloud her mind, although it was aggravating how easily you managed to get under her skin. She finished her tea, closing her eyes to savor the taste and cool her boiling blood. 

Tara sat down the mug, looking at you coldly once again. “Since you are asking so nicely,” she said, “I suppose I could work something out. The hotel could use a little extra publicity in return, don’t you think?” 

Your eyes narrowed. “Let’s not get ahead of ourselves here, Tara,” you said. You did not come to make bargains, especially not on her terms. “My very presence is a favor to you. If it were up to me, I’d eradicate all the gangs and split Quetza into four little hotel chains to even out the market, and with one more incident like this blackout, I very well might!”

The fire in her eyes relit instantly. She was furious at being disregarded, angry to be threatened in her own hotel. Nobody dared to speak to her with such an edge in their voice — and you did realize belatedly that perhaps you brought a gun to a swordfight — and as she tensed, wrath in her expression, you anticipated it when her gaze flickered nearly unnoticed to the security guard in the corner behind you. 

It was a signal, and it worked, of course. 

You heard heavy footsteps draw nearer from all sides. Gritting your teeth, you fought against the sudden spike of anxiety at the feeling of being caged and tilted your head instead. You did not need to turn around to know that the security guard behind you had a hand on his belt, resting calmly on his gun, waiting for Tara’s words on an order that would never come. 

“Are you threatening me?” she asked, her voice steady despite her anger. 

You felt Asirel tense next to you. He clenched his hands into fists to hide their trembling, resting them on his thighs. He thought his heartbeat was audible from how loud he could hear it in his own ears. 

“I am warning you,” you said, “and if you don’t relax and trust me on the importance of this, I will have to tear you down.”

It was a thinly veiled message — words you had told him before — and Asirel caught on. You heard him take a deep breath, trying to calm down despite the looming figures in your periphery. 

“I am tired of needing to keep an eye on Stockton, Tara. Either do as I say or suffer the consequences — and they will be dire. Not only for Quetza, crumbling into dust over your shortcomings, your childish inability to sit down with your rivals and come to an agreement. It will destabilize the entire branch, and you will be left with nothing but the ash of your faded importance. And what future will that be for you? Keep your people in check!”

A loud thump came from somewhere above, ripping through the tense silence your words had created. It made you jump, startled by the unexpected noise of something tumbling to the ground. Asirel muttered a curse under his breath. Security tensed, looking at each other. Tara glanced at the ceiling, frowning in confusion.

Hurried footsteps made their way down the stairs into the foyer, the trampling clearly audible. A muffled sound of protest came from the treasurer before the door to the lounge was rolled aside. Someone darted in.

The reaction from the security was immediate. They pulled out their guns, aiming them steadily at Asirel and you as a little head of whirly black hair ran towards Tara, clasping something in his little hands.

“Mom,” he cried, crashing against her and burying his face in her shoulder. “It broke an— and I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to. Dad— Dad will— he will—”

“Elias,” she said, wrapping an arm around his shaking shoulders to comfort him. Her tone remained stern. “What did I tell you about coming in here?”

The little boy raised his head, looking up at her with tears in his eyes. He took a shuddering breath, his voice cracking. “But—”

“No ‘buts,’” she said, cupping his cheeks and wiping his tears away with her thumbs. “This is very important. Do you understand, my little star? Never come in when the door is closed. That means there are people over, alright? Elias, honey, promise me. Hey.”

You took in the scene in front of you, eyes flickering to the security guard to Tara’s left. He looked at you with such intensity that you could not help but stare back. His trigger finger twitched. He was eager to shoot you at one wrong move, now that her son was here. Slowly, you raised your hands, keeping your eyes on him as if daring to find a threat in your placating gesture. 

Asirel had gone entirely rigid. His fists clenched impossibly tight. You supposed this was not his first time facing the barrel of a gun, but the feeling of being helplessly surrounded must have been new to him.

“Pro—mise,” Elias sniffled, looking down sadly at what you saw to be a star chart, the turning pieces of the complex design now loose. “It broke, mom. I’m sorry. I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to. Dad—”

“He’ll understand, sweetheart,” she sighed patiently, cradling a hand through his hair. “We’ll take a look at it together later, yeah? Maybe we can fix it.” She moved her hands to his shoulders, turning him around gently before placing a kiss on the crown of his head and pointing him towards the door. “Let me finish this meeting first and I’ll come help you. Alright?”

Elias looked unconvinced, his lower lip wobbling again as he clutched the chart. “What if we can’t fix it?” he croaked wetly, turning to look at his mother again with new tears in his eyes. “What— Dad will— he’ll never let me use his again! But I didn’t mean to. It was an accident. Was an— an accident, Mom. I’m sorry.”

She shushed him, smoothing out his hair to get him to calm down. Elias took shuddering breaths, his little shoulders shaking from their force. 

“It’s not broken,” Asirel said gently, keeping his voice light despite the discomfort and primal fear of being shot battling to choke him up. He kept his eyes on the little boy, now turning to look at him curiously, a glimmer of hope sparkling in his bright eyes beneath the sheen of tears. 

He blocked out everything else, forgetting about the security guards, missing your surprised glance at hearing him interject. He saw Tara’s head shot up, her grip on her son’s shoulders tightening nearly unnoticeably.

Elias did not seem to register it. “What do you mean?” he asked, wiping his eyes and taking another shuddering breath. He was calming down. 

“Its components are out of place, that’s why it doesn’t work anymore. You need to position them right. Here” — he held out a hand — “let me help you.”

You heard the security guard behind him suck in a sharp breath. “Tara,” you warned. They were too skittish for your liking.

She understood, eyeing Asirel’s open hand wearily before loosening her hold on Elias. “It’s alright,” she said, more to the security than to him. “Go ahead.”

Her son walked over slowly, still sniffling as he handed the complex star chart over to Asirel. He took it carefully. 

“See these things here,” he explained, pointing to what looked like large circles. “They need to be aligned with these here. Then you have these other little ones. They need to turn freely to make the entire thing move. Do you understand?”

Elias nodded, watching in awe as Asirel fixed the alignment. 

“The tricky part is knowing how the parts harmonize,” he said, glancing at Elias. “But that’s something you’ll learn when you’re older if you’re still interested in this. Here, all done.” Asirel handed the working star chart back to him. 

Elias looked at it for a long moment, his eyes wide with fascination. “Thank you,” he said, beaming at Asirel. His eyes sparkled. He turned back to Tara, showing off the working chart. “Look, mom. He fixed it!”

Another set of hurried footsteps darted down the stairs. There was a faint ‘where is he?’ from a deep voice soundingmildly panicked, then a string of courses following the treasurer pointing towards the lounge.

A man walked to the doorway, looking displeased. Tara raised an eyebrow at him, but he simply shook his head tiredly. “Elias,” he said, strands of his black hair falling into his face. His son walked up to him excitedly. “What are you doing here?”

“Look, Dad,” he said cheerily, holding up the star chart. “I— it broke a little, but the nice man fixed it. I’m sorry. I’ll be more careful next time. It was an accident.”

He looked over to the couch where you and Asirel sat, then back at his son. “Did you say thank you?” he asked. Elias nodded energetically. “Alright then. Say your goodbyes and we’ll leave them to their work. We need to have a talk about where you can wander off to.”

“Bye Mom,” Elias said, waving at Tara before turning to the other couch. “Bye-bye. Thanks again, Mister.”

His father wheeled the door shut behind them, his voice faintly audible in the lounge as he said, “It’s ‘sir,’ Elias.”

The security guards stepped back with a wave of Tara’s hand. You let out a breath, relaxing into the cushions as youturned to look at Asirel curiously, a pleased smile on your face. He noticed, his cheeks tainted a faint pink as he muttered, “I took an astronomy course in university.”

You hummed. “Impressive.” You turned to Tara, who was looking at Asirel with an unreadable expression. “I can see why James is smitten.”

She cleared her throat at the mention of her brother, snapping back into the present. “I suppose I can bring about a truce if you want it that badly,” she said. “There is a meeting in Fresno in a few days. I promise to try.”

“That’s all I ask,” you said softly, glancing at the pictures on the coffee table. “Thank you.”

She stood from the couch, ready to escort you to the foyer. Asirel followed suit, looking at you uncertainly when you remained seated. 

“What do you know about Samuel Kennedy?” you asked, keeping your voice neutral as you studied her expression. 

“Kennedy?” she asked, thinking for a moment longer. “As in Robert Kennedy?”

Asirel bit his lip, amused at hearing his own phrase repeated. 

“His brother, yes,” you said. “He is a judge.”

“I haven’t heard of him,” she said, eyebrows furrowing in concentration. “Samuel Kennedy? No, never heard of him. Robert, I know well, however. That little viper. Now that you mention it, what is the matter with Incessant Inc? Tell me I don’t need to worry. You know how the top’s connections branch into real estate.”

You rose to your feet as well, the corners of your lips downturned in disappointment. Mr. Rhoades certainly had a better track record of procuring information. “It’s always good to keep your cards close to your chest,” you said cryptically, giving her a meaningful look.

Tara’s eyes lit up in understanding, and she gave you a grateful nod. 

If Dove called you later asking why Quetza’s market value had doubled, you told her perhaps your friend was preparing for a shake in the real estate market, making sure her company would come out unscathed.  

And she was right to do so.

[luciennelune]

Last night I had a dream about Warriors from LU but it was completely different from canon even down to the story of Hyrule Warriors. At the same time, it was kind of interesting?

So before I forget, here were some of the things about Wars from my dream:

His characterization was pretty different. Instead of being the polished, polite pretty boy, he was arrogant and sneaky. He knew all the best places to hide, eavesdrop, and buy information. He did use this knowledge to his advantage both during and outside of the war. He was also constantly trying to bite off more than he could chew; trying to fight the biggest fights, on his own, without asking for backup.

Part of the reason he was so arrogant is because he never took a hit in battle until his fight with Volga, which is also where he got his first scar (on his arm). After that, anytime someone would touch him on that arm, he would flinch away and snap at them for it. (Definitely not a sign of trauma and poor mental health, not at all. He's perfectly capable of fighting that gleeok all on his own!)

Also, he was constantly disobeying his commander? Like he would try to take on dangerous missions and his commander would tell him not to, and Wars just would not listen. If he got something in his head, talking him out of it would lead to arguments and bitterness.

I think the only reason he wasn't pulled from the army completely is because he was the only one who could wield the Master Sword and therefore the only one to defeat Cia.

Speaking of defeating Cia, in my dream, Wars actually had to complete a dungeon! Technically 4 of them, I think. So the people he met from other timelines (Midna, Ruto, etc) ended up being certain kinds of sages. Wars had to have their help to get through the dungeons (TotK sage style), which was necessary to defeat Cia. (I don't remember why, let's just say each dungeon gave him part of the Triforce of courage or something). He absolutely hated it the whole time, because teamwork?? What do you mean he can't do it all on his own??? He was not a happy camper.

In the end, I think he had to climb some kind of battle tower to reach Cia and fight her.

The rest of the dream is kind of hazy now, but I thought his personality was interesting because of how different it is from canon, yet it kinda works? Idk, I thought I'd share.

[erythriina]

Jopson: Deepstalker ranger

High dexterity, high wisdom. His favored terrain is the crowded maze of a ship or a city. Became a Deepstalker in Antarctica with Crozier, applying the skills he’s had since childhood at mapping, scouting, and navigation to the sciences used on the expedition. Doesn’t enjoy or desire violence—or attention—and so he is happy keeping his skill at combat quiet. He has a limited knowledge of magic which he also keeps secret; it’s supposed to be for helping him hunt, but the vast majority of the spells he knows are medical.

Irving: Oath of redemption paladin

The creed of this order is that anyone can be redeemed, no matter what they’ve done, a reminder that he clings to out of terror but also something he genuinely believes. He wants to help others. He wants to be kind. Plus, they use violence only as a last resort, and he has always despised conflict, not to mention he’s never been good at it. Sometimes he wishes he had become a wizard like Edward, or a bard like Hodgson; those employ maths, those follow a logic, but there’s no formula for faith, and that scares him on a level he can’t even admit to himself.

Little: Abjuration wizard

His magic is a product of study and experience, and as long as he’s operating within his wheelhouse he is a reassuringly capable leader. Intelligent in a way wizards have to be, but selfless in a way that most wizards aren’t; in the end, he is a protector. He has to protect his men. This is the core of who he is, and it will be the last thing left of him.

Hodgson: Evocation bard, college of valor

People always underestimate bards, and while that can be useful, it always gets under his skin too much for him to use it to his advantage. Doesn’t like to be viewed as frivolous, though perhaps he is; is it a crime to enjoy the finer things in life? Widely studied and quite intelligent, like Little, but more bitter. Deep down, he’s a remarkably violent man. When he sees what’s been done to his friend—who also liked to sing, and sometimes did so with him—it comes as instinct, as second nature, to raise his voice solo in the music of war.

[firestarter91]

‘Gaius is the worst’

Yes indeed he is and not for the first time. He just wants a quiet life but he’s not going to get it so he needs to be more assertive and show some courage. It’s his job as royal physician and trusted advisor to not only the king but to his family to give advice and counsel, not stick his head in the sand and worse lie, he’s certainly not doing right by Morgana no matter how much he wants to pretend otherwise.

Merlin says to Gaius that he will go talk to her, because of course Gaius is a coward and would rather continue to fob her off. Meanwhile the poor girl thinks she’s going crazy, keeping the truth from her is not helping Morgana but Gaius seems more concerned with protecting himself (and Merlin) by trying to maintain the status quo but that’s not going to work for much longer, what’s he going to do when Morgana ends up burning not just the curtains or her bed and causing much worse damage?

Gaius warns Merlin to stay out of it, of course he should know by now that by saying that, precisely the opposite is going to happen. He doesn’t want to go through all the misery of the great purge again and risk Merlin’s and maybe Morgana’s lives which I understand but he must explain the possible repercussions to Merlin rather than just forbidding him from doing things.

The trouble with just telling him no is that without any reasoning behind his refusal to help, Merlin is just going to go off and try and do his own thing and not thinking of the consequences, which of course is exactly what happens. It really annoys me how Gaius keeps forbidding Merlin to do things but never explains to him why it’s not a good idea, you would think by now the penny would have dropped that communication is key here.

Merlin then takes Gaius to task about his refusal to help Morgana, he’s just done what he wouldn’t do. Gaius is beside himself because of course Merlin has ignored him but that’s really his own damn fault. Merlin tells Gaius that the years before he came to Camelot were the loneliest of his life (poor Will is turning in his grave at this point!), he then gives peons of praise to Gaius. Not sure why since I don’t think Gaius is that great a mentor or guardian for Merlin.

Merlin singing Gaius’ praises is annoying but it’s consistent with how Merlin sees Gaius but unfortunately there’s this clear dissonance between what we see and what we’re told. Gaius really didn’t teach Merlin much, he gave him a book on magic in season 1 then promptly told him not to read it and keep it hidden away, it’s like giving a cook a fantastic cook book then telling them they can’t cook any recipes out of it!

He didn’t give him any real training in magic, just told him to keep his head down and keep quiet except of course when Gaius wanted him to save Camelot, only then is Merlin expected to use his magic arsenal of spells despite having little guidance or knowledge of how to go about it. Gaius was more of a stumbling block to Merlin, not an aid, but clearly I’m not meant to feel that way because Merlin (and the showrunners) thought the sun shone out of his arse.

‘I guess Gaius did provide him company, a people to counsel with and the fatherly love. But that’s not the same.’

I completely agree, Gaius doesn’t do nearly as much as he should fraankly.

Gaius made a choice too by his sheer inaction, it’s a recurrent pattern of behaviour that the show seems to ignore. Gaius redeems himself slightly by saying he’s just glad Merlin’s back and that they were both right and doing what they thought was for the best but what Gaius was doing was what was best for HIM not for Morgana. the show keeps son wanting to make Gaius look noble and good all the times when in this case he deserved censure.

They almost always ended an episode on a Gaius/Merlin scene of them at home over supper, sometimes it was nice but other times I wished they’d hadn’t and this episode was one of them, it should have ended with Merlin and Arthur.

Merlin rewatch -- S2E3: The Nightmare Begins

Gaius is the worst

I hated Gaius so much in this. Not just the gaslighting but also how full of self-righteousness he was while his gaslighting was clearly failing already. Morgana's nightmare clearly hadn't stopped since s1e13 and her magic was leaking so obviously. He still thought drugging her was effective? “ I’ve taken good care of her”?She already recognised his own magic. “ (gaslighting Morgana) For good reason”? It's obvious the secrecy only fueled the outburst of her magic. The fact that Morgana told Merlin about her magic should prove that Gaius’ method couldn’t even keep her mouth shut. It’s good that she found Merlin. What if she ran into someone whose mouth wasn’t that tight?

Gaius just didn’t want to help. Merlin proposed so many ways that didn’t concern Gaius. Druid is a valid option. Uther wasn’t actively raiding druid camps at the moment. (Merlin failed because the plan was rubbish, not because going to the druid was a bad idea) And frankly, Gaius was the person who could talk to Morgana with the least risk! He used to practice magic so it makes sense that he had the knowledge. If Morgana could be more in control, there wouldn’t be more of this kind of ‘accident’ that put Uther into witch-hunting mode. If he’s that scared of getting into trouble, fair. What annoyed me was that he acted like he knew best. “ I will (take care of Morgana). As I’ve always done.” Drugging and gaslighting don’t count.  “ What makes you think that you know better than me?” Merlin knew much much better thank you.

The second confrontation between them was not bad since Merlin stood up for himself and Gaius did get his point in the end. I’m still a bit mad that Gaius used “ people’s lives are at risk” to scold him. If Morgana didn’t lose control Uther wouldn’t start to arrest people in the first place. Also I’m never convinced that Gaius taught Merlin about ‘ the good in magic and the right way of using it’. I’m sure Hunith gave him that impression too if that adorable fire dragon was anything to go by. And Kilgharah was the one to tell him about his destiny. Merlin also used magic to save Gaius at the very beginning. He always knew to use it for good. I guess Gaius did provide him company, a people to counsel with and the fatherly love. But that’s not the same.

How I wish the episode ended at the lovely Merlin & Arthur scene. Why did Merlin have to apologise to Gaius? He did do some stupid things but it’s not like Gaius was personally affected. If Gaius was willing to help Merlin wouldn’t have to act alone. Gaius saying “ it’s not your fault. You were only doing what you thought was right.” seemed to indicate that he was correct about keeping Morgana in the dark, which is frustrating. At least Merlin did reply “We both were”...

[S2E3] [other episodes]

[turtleblogatlast]

One of the biggest things that makes me see Leo as trans is absolutely the size of his carapace in comparison to his brothers’.

And I’m not talking about height! I’m specifically looking at his shell here, because when you compare him to the others, particularly Donnie who is nearly the same height as Leo, it’s very clear that Leo’s carapace is much longer in proportion to the rest of his body.

Like - standing side by side, even though Donnie is shorter his carapace ends noticeably higher up than Leo’s does. And I like this not only because it really helps push the idea that Leo could very likely be trans (or intersex!), but it’s also just a fun design difference between them.

(It also lends way to future scenarios of Donnie eventually getting taller than Leo, but sitting down still has Leo being the taller one haha.)

[hanakihan]

listen I’ve been plagued by idea of Apothecary Diaries AU and Rook is MaoMao you need to see my vision—

[dvilsdesire]

Rolan would easily be able to translate the contract for him. It must have burned Lorroakan to know that he couldn't read the contract with his own two eyes, though. A power move on Raphael's part, of course. He could have even offered to translate is then and there for the other man, but that would have likely wounded the wizard's pride. The devil took great satisfaction in that small slight.

"I would expect nothing less of a man of your stature," he said, tucking his hand close to his chest as the other was behind his back, offering Lorroakan a pleasing smile.

Raphael couldn't help but chuckle in response. It was not often the devil met a match for an opponent, someone who was smart enough to investigate and even get to know who they were truly dealing with. It made him wonder how much knowledge Lorroakan had about the Nine Hells, about the Cold Lord himself, and his spawn. He would enquire, but at a later date. Raphael always got what he wanted, and soon enough, Lorroakan would see that, too.

But he could play the long game. He was a patient devil.

"You have been a gracious host, Master Lorroakan, and the pleasure was all mine. When you receive my invitation, there will be a servant to guide you to my House of Hope, where we can dine and discuss your ambitions further. Until then, I bid you adieu." He offered Lorroakan a dramatic bow with a little twirl of his hand before he turned his back to see Rolan and Haarlep, the poor tiefling being harassed endlessly by his incubus.

"Haarlep," he snapped quickly, clapping his hand. "We are finished here."

The incubus pouted, though offered Rolan a little blow of a kiss from his palm before the apprentice led them to the front door.

When Lorroakan next heard from Raphael, it was within a perfumes envelope, the scent of cherries and peppers lingering, the penmanship of the dried ink in cursive:

Master Lorroakan,

It was a pleasure to meet face to face within your tower, despite the unfortunate event of your first meeting being with Haarlep. I will be sure to keep the fiend locked away during your visit to the House of Hope so they do not disrupt us. You will find that my home demands a certain order within it, and my guests will have my utmost attention.

As discussed, this is your personal invitation to Avernus, where I currently reside. Once you have accepted this invitation, a portal will open within the foyer. There is a guest book that you are required to sign upon entry. Do not fret, the book is merely for records sake, as the rules of Baator demand--we are an efficient people.

You will be greeted by my warlock, Korrilla, and she will lead you to the guest hall. There, we will meet again.

I am looking forward to it. I do hope you bring good news and a signed contract. I would hate to be insulted within my own home.

Until then.

R.

At the bottom, there was a place for Lorroakan to sign that he accepted the invitation, and a date and a time when the meeting would be.

ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤHE SET HIS GLASS ASIDE, briefly glancing over the contract written in Infernal that Raphael expected him to sign. Obviously, Lorroakan wouldn't sign a contract he couldn't even read.

"Your invitation is most gracious," he began, neatly rolling the contract back up. "Of course, I shall have my apprentice translate and review this thoroughly before I consider putting my name to it. I trust that won't be an issue." His smile was dripping with venom.

"With all due respect, Raphael — you are undoubtedly a master of your... craft, with countless souls under your sway. But do not INSULT me by assuming I am like the gullible fools who have fallen prey to your influence. You would do well to remember that if you wish to further our arrangement."

Surely, Raphael didn't expect him to sign this contract now ; still, this was something the wizard needed to point out. Lorroakan didn't have centuries of life, nor was he a fiend, but his ambition was sharp as any blade, and his wits sharper. He had made it to the top on intellect alone and wouldn't let himself be taken for a simpleton.

He rose from his seat, signaling that this conversation was over. "Given the hour, I must bid you good night. Rolan will see you out."

[spiritofpassionfruit]

A–Aventio TGCF idea?? Wherein Civil God Veritas Ratio meets the infamous Ghost King Aventurine during his first mission cuz cuz like— The "live for me" paralels?!? The one who has all the luck partner as well?!? The villain who was actually not the Villain this whole time!?!? The loving humanity a little too much it causes their downfall !?!?!?

Rant AU in the tags proceed with caution

[muninnhuginn]

Thinking about "your weakness is how you always want to be the hero" and how the series returns to this at the end

Li Lianhua hated how he acted as Li Xiangyi and spent years trying to distance himself from it, but ultimately he still fell back into the similar patterns, for all his added experience

His main priority was always to "do the right thing" regardless of how that would impact on those around him. And it *did* impact those around him. From Qiao Wanmian and Shan Gudao as Li Xiangyi to Fang Duobing and Di Feisheng as Li Lianhua

Giving the Styx flower to the emperor so he could use it as leverage to guarantee Fang Duobing and his family's safety. Using the last of his power to save Yun Biqiu. Constantly putting others above himself whilst actively refusing to recognise that his self-sacrificial nature would hurt those he cared about most

And sure, he thinks he's going to die anyway. They're going to be hurt regardless and he can't do anything about that. His odds are low of the Styx flower even working. But ultimately, he refuses to even consider trying. Li Xiangyi has been dead a long time and Li Lianhua is just there to tide things over. What value is the life of a ghost

To the end, he lives and dies a hero. To the end, he refuses to live for himself.

[pyrosomatic-metamorphosis]

thinking about 4halo again and dying

they just. they used to be so sweet together. and then the election arc managed to genuinely turn them against each other (and bad is still affected by being caged in the museum) and i would NOT have been surprised if a rebellion had started within the next few weeks after their last fight and. they used to be friends and then they almost destroyed each other

and then the eggs went missing

and there are so many parallels between them, but one of the biggest parallels is how they're both protectors. they both protected the eggs (and, when he became president, forever extended that protection to the other islanders) but the eggs went missing and they had to put all of that aside. Forever was quicker to put it down than Bad was (it felt like only a very temporary truce, from Bad's end), but they put their problems on hold, because their eggs. were gone.

and another parallel. the destruction. both of them with their plans to cause ruin because then, maybe, theyll get their kids back. bad caused most of the grieving arc damage directly, and got aypierre and antoine to help him. he dug holes in the ground. he placed mines everywhere and leapt into them. he started the lavacasting process of the fed building (and was interrupted by admins, so he stopped, but philza and fit were still right to laugh at him lmaoo). he drilled a hole through the side of the federation office from a huge distance away. he has chosen to hurt his friends and himself to get the eggs back. whatever the cost.

forever destroyed the island. or he planned to destroy the island. or he was interrupted just before he destroyed the island or or or. I don't know. but it was big, and it was bad. bad enough that the feds had to step in and forcefully drug him, and kickstart the happy pills arc.

and the happy pills arc..... oughghghgh as fucking awful as it was for their characters to experience i genuinely truly think that it saved them from each other. when he was first told about forever being fucked up bad was still in the "i need to kick his butt" mindset, and was all ready for an excuse to kill forever. and then he saw forever. and the first proposal happened. and bad was angry and he was sad and upset and he was careful. forever tried to kill him. bad decided to save him. forever kept trying to marry him. forever kept taking the pills. forever was so scared of his own anger and all of the damage he could and would have caused to his family that he kept taking drugs that kept him so out of his mind he hallucinated his son was just sleeping safely at his house.

and they both tried to kill each other. and they both failed.

and bad showed phil and cellbit (and tubbo) the item scanner that dapper discovered, which could destroy him, because nothing else was working. because they needed to save forever. because bad was reminded by then that forever was a victim of the federation instead of just a mouthpiece for it. and then when forever woke up he saw bad, suffering, and so excited to see him awake.

and now they're here on opposite sides again with forever projecting his protection urges onto the fed worker in bad's basement and bad frustrated that he isn't being believed and his evil plans of giving ron lemons apology brownies is being interrupted and. look at them. soft "i hate you" and the appreciation room and bad's quiet heartbreak when he learned about forever being missing and the "i miss you" book bad got mad at because it asked him not to torture fed workers. does anyone hear me im so ill about them. do you understand they care about each other so much and the happy pills arc reminded them of that. forever realized bad is colourblind and bad assumed forever was poisoning him and then forever helped bad cheat on another colourblindness test and forever was giving bad flowers and bad was accepting them and accepted that he was colourblind despite his previously constant denial and! i don't know if im being comprehensible and i dont really care i will be honest i just need you to know i am frothing at the mouth like a rabid little beast. they are a TRAGEDY of miscommunication and external pressure but they love so so much. platonic or romantic or qpp they CARE and it tears me to shreds

[a-crimson-impressionism]

I love Dr Stone so much, it's my favorite anime and manga probably by a long shot. Sailor Moon and Black Clover are also very dear to me, but there's a charm about Dr Stone that I can't quite explain.

The characters for the most part try hard to revive everyone turned to stone and help return the world to how it was before. They spend years saving everyone and helping and it's such an inspiring piece of media to me.

I don't know. Maybe it's about the trying. The persistence.