#and if you remember my Announcer design his name is ALSO Ace

[synthshenanigans]

Drew an outfit thing from Twitter. Might become a full art eventually but we'll see. Anyways here's THDPH Chonny :}

[Outfit below]

[leefics]

best couple award | oneshot

excerpt | you and taehyung are both making your acting awards show debut, and the least expected ends up happening.

pairing | taehyung x rookieactress!reader

genre | fluff

warning/s | none

lee's notes | this has been in my drafts for god knows how long and I thought I would finally take the time and publish it today! hope you guys enjoy it <3

word count | 3.47k words

go to | home / m. list / faq

YOU NERVOUSLY SHIFT IN YOUR SEAT, patiently awaiting the signal for you to leave your car. It was parked in the middle of a line of cars, each containing different actors and actresses that were invited to the annual KBS Drama Awards.

This would be your first appearance since officially starting your acting career, being fortunate enough to have your debut role in a drama take off. You played the love interest of Taehyung in Hwarang, a historical Korean drama.

The story between your characters was only meant to be a mere side-plot to the drama, but it ended up attracting a surprisingly large amount of attention due to the chemistry your two characters shared. Many ended up heartbroken over your arc, since it ended with the unexpected death of both characters.

"Alright, we're up soon. You ready?" Your manager asks, watching as you glanced towards him.

You let out a sigh, your hands slightly trembling as you let out a chuckle. "Not really, to be honest." You reply, making your manager laugh.

"Hey—you're going to be just fine, (Y/N). You remember what I said, right?"

You hum at this, nodding. "I'll walk down the carpet, pose for a few photos and answer a few questions. Then, I'll follow the staff member assigned to me and go to my designated seat." You answer, recalling everything he told you.

Your manager smiles at this and nods, patting your back. "See? You got this, (Y/N)-ah. There's no need to be nervous." He says with a chuckle.

You let out a breathy chuckle at this, your nerves somewhat calming down. Your eyes trail to the window, gazing at the different actors and actresses posing on the carpet. Your trance is cut short as you feel the car move, your eyes immediately widening.

"We're up next, (Y/N)-ah. You'll do great, okay?" Your manager says, giving you an encouraging smile.

You smile back, unable to fully hide your nervousness. "Oh my god." You mumble, letting out a sharp breath when the car stops.

"Here we go." He mutters before sliding the door open.

"Oh! For our next star, it's (Y/N) (L/N)!" You hear the announcer say as you slowly walk out of the van.

You flash a thankful smile to your manager as he helps you out, gently letting go of his hand as you begin to walk down the carpet. While walking, you don't neglect to flash a few smiles and waves at the cameras, trying not to appear too overwhelmed by the sheer amount of lights being flashed onto your eyes.

You let out a soft laugh upon hearing a few fans scream your name, giving them a polite wave and a smile. Once you get onto the platform, you stand on the center of the photo-wall before posing for the photographers, a small elegant smile on your face.

"(Y/N)-ssi! To your left!"

"To your right, (Y/N)-ssi!"

"Look over here, please!"

You smile and bow slightly after a few moments, turning to your left and walking towards the announcer. He smiles politely and walks towards you, handing you a mic.

"(Y/N)-ssi! Wah, for your first-ever red carpet event, you did amazing while posing for photos! An ace indeed!" He exclaims, making you let out a chuckle as you shake your head. "How do you feel to be here tonight?"

You smile and accept the microphone from him. "I'm kind of nervous, to be honest, since it is my first time. But I'm also very excited to be here with so many other well-respected actors and actresses." You respond, the announcer nodding.

"Well, I'm sure you'll do amazing! And by the way, (Y/N)-ssi, if I may just say, your dress looks gorgeous! Did you pick it out yourself?"

You smile and nod, "I was honestly blown away when they showed me this dress. In that moment, I knew I couldn't pass on the chance to wear it for the show." You say with a chuckle.

"Alright, well we're very excited to watch you tonight. I wish you all the luck!" He cheers, bringing one of his fists up.

You let out a laugh, slightly bowing to the announcer. "Thank you so much." You respond with a smile.

"Oh! Wait a minute, look who's coming!" He exclaims, looking somewhere.

You politely smile and assume it's your cue to leave, but as you take your first step, you see the staff members raising their hands at you, as if to tell you to stay put. Dumbfounded, you follow the announcer's gaze, your eyes widening when you see who it is.

Taehyung walks out of the van with Seokjin and Hoseok behind him, all waving and smiling to the cameras. The fans begin to scream upon seeing them, causing him to let out a sheepish chuckle as he smiles at them. His eyes travel from the cameras towards you and the announcer, smile widening when he sees you.

"It's Kim Taehyung-ssi—joined by his two members, J-Hope and Jin! What a coincidence!" He exclaims with a laugh.

The three members pose on the photo-wall, smiling at the photographers from all three angles.

"Can we have a photo with Taehyung-ssi and (Y/N)-ssi?" The announcer asks, glancing between you and Taehyung.

You make eye-contact with your manager who nods at you encouragingly and look towards Taehyung. You chuckle and walk towards him, bowing to Seokjin and Hoseok.

Once you get there, you laugh awkwardly and stand beside Taehyung, watching as Seokjin and Hoseok both jogged towards the announcer. The two of yoy both stand at the center, smiling at the cameras.

"Wah, such a beautiful couple they make! Their outfits even match perfectly!" The announcer exclaims, making you both smile. "Wouldn't you say the same, Jin-ssi?"

Seokjin laughs as he takes the mic, nodding. "I agree! But I do believe the photos would look much better if me and Hobi were in them as well." He jokes, making everyone laugh as well.

You and Taehyung wave one last time before you both head towards the announcer's stage, smiling thankfully when Taehyung offers you his arm. You gently grasp onto it, the support helping you balance on your high heels until you both arrive at the small platform.

"Well, I can't argue with that!" The announcer says to Seokjin with a laugh before turning to Hoseok. "J-Hope-ssi, do you think they have a shot at getting the couple of the year award?"

You and Taehyung smile sheepishly at his question, looking at Hoseok curiously.

"Of course! Me and the other members all watched the drama together and these two made all of us cry so much. They deserve the award!" Hoseok exclaims, flashing you both a smile.

You let out a soft laugh at this, Taehyung grinning as well. The announcer hands Taehyung the microphone, looking at him expectantly.

"How about you, Taehyung-ssi? Do you think you two are going to win?" He asks, making Taehyung lick his lips and tilt his head to one side.

"Well we can never be too sure—but there's nothing wrong with hoping." He answers, the announcer nodding.

"Alright, well, there we have it! Thank you so much to (Y/N)-ssi and Taehyung-ssi and of course, our beloved Jin and J-Hope. I hope you all have a great time tonight!" He exclaims, lightly bowing to you guys.

You all thank him and bow back, giving the audience one last wave before walking down the stage. The moment you're all off-stage, you let out a sigh in relief. Taehyung notices this and chuckles, grinning at you as he gently lets your arm go.

"You did very good for your first red carpet, (Y/N)-ah. I told you there was nothing to worry about." He says, making you smile.

"Thank you, Taehyung." You mumble shyly, your nerves slowly calming.

As Taehyung continues to smile proudly at you, Seokjin's eyes widen, looking at you in disbelief. "That was your first red carpet?" He asks, surprise in his tone.

You chuckle and nod, "Yes, this first awards show too." You reply sheepishly, Seokjin nodding.

"Well, like Tae said, you did amazing! Congratulations, (Y/N)-ah." Hoseok says, giving you a grin. "Agreed, you did really well for your first carpet!" Seokjin adds, giving you a thumbs-up.

Your cheeks turn slightly pink as you smile at them. "Thank you sunbaes, that means a lot." You respond, making them smile. "I'm also a huge fan, by the way—Taehyung tells me a lot about you both." You add, the two members chuckling.

After the four of you get better acquainted, a staff member leads you all into the theater, bringing you towards your designated seats.

The man-in-charge escorts the three members to a specific row and you follow them, expecting to sit in the same section. But before you could take a sear, the man stops you, motioning to one a little further to the side.

"Ah, you'll be sitting in a different section, (Y/N)-ssi." He says, making your expression falter slightly. Since you were fairly new to the industry, you didn't really know anyone else besides your co-stars. So, upon realizing that you might be seated with people you didn’t know, a small frown formed on your face in anxiousness.

When Taehyung sees your nervous expression, he sits up, gently grasping your hand in his before smiling at you reassuringly. He looks to the man-in-charge, looking at him apologetically.

"Sorry, but our managers actually requested that we sit together. Would it be alright for you to just swap (Y/N)'s seat with the person that's meant to sit here?" Taehyung asks kindly, making up an excuse to have you both sit together.

The man nods, understanding the situation. "Just give me a moment to clear it with my team leader. Then once it's good, I'll come back here." He says, giving you both a smile before walking away.

You let out a sigh once he leaves, looking at Taehyung apologetically. "Sorry, I’m just really nervoys." You say with a frown, Taehyung's eyes softening as he shakes his head.

"Hey, it's alright, (Y/N)-ah, you don't need to apologize." He says, offering you a smile.

You simply smile back, appreciating what he did for you.

By this time, you were sure most, if not all, of your cast mates were familiar with your rather shy nature. Taehyung especially, considering how you both spent a significant amount of time with one another.

It took awhile for you to open up to all of them since you weren’t someone who was exactly great at socializing with others. But, with their help and encouragement, you slowly came out of your shell and got along with them better, eventually developing a solid friendship with all of them.

"(Y/N)?" You hear someone ask, making you look up towards the source.

You make eye contact with Taehyung, realizing that you accidentally spaced out for awhile. "Oh, sorry." You say, making him chuckle.

"It's alright. I was just going to say that you can sit with us. The man-in-charge cleared it."

You let out a small smile at this, enveloping his large hand in your two smaller ones. "Thank you so much, Taehyung." You say sincerely, causing him to grin in amusement and shake his head.

"I got you, (Y/N)-ah. No problem." He replies, letting out a laugh as he shakes your two hands.

"Hey, look who it is!" Someone suddenly exclaims from in front of you both.

You look in front of you, eyes immediately widening as you see Hyungsik and Seojun, two of your other cast mates, standing in front of you two.

"Oppa!" You exclaim with a laugh, letting go of Taehyung's hands to tackle Hyungsik into a hug.

Even though not much time had passed since you last saw each other, you couldn’t hide your excitement upon seeing the two actors.

"Yah, where's my hug?" Seojun teases, acting offended.

You laugh at this and let go of Hyungsik, immediately giving Seojun a big hug. As you did, the three BTS members watched, amused smiles on each of their faces.

"Hyung, it feels like ages since we last saw each other." Taehyung says with a laugh, tackling Hyungsik in a hug as well. "These are two of my members by the way, Jin-hyung and Hobi-hyung." He adds when he pulls away, the two members waving.

"It's a pleasure to meet you, Hyungsik-ssi." Seokjin says, shaking the man's hand. "Likewise." Hyungsik replies, giving him a smile.

Taehyung introduces Seojun to the two members as well, happy to see them get acquainted with one another. Soon after, the staff begin to usher everyone into their seats, stating that the show was set to begin soon.

You take your seat next to Taehyung, a nervous sigh escaping you as the lights begin to dim. He notices this and gives you a reassuring smile, gently placing his hand on top of yours.

"Hey, let's just have fun tonight, okay?" He says, immediately calming your nerves.

You softly chuckle and nod, smiling back at him. "Deal."

...

"—and for our last best couple, wah—I actually personally love this couple a lot."

The female presenrer smiles excitedly, the card containing the winners in her grasp. The end of the show was approaching, and while you and Taehyung were still empty-handed, you still had a great time sitting next to him, Seokjin, and Hoseok.

You all watched as the male presenter laughs and nods, "It's the same with me, I loved their story a lot. It was truly tragic, but it was beautiful as well." He responds, glancing towards the crowd.

"Alright! I'll announce it now. The last best couple award goes to," The female presenter says, playfully pausing as she looks down at her card.

"Kim Taehyung and (Y/N) (L/N)!"

Your eyes quickly widen as everyone begins to applaud around you, unable to believe it. Taehyung lets out a chuckle in disbelief as he stands up, just as shocked as you were.

"Go get your award!" Hoseok exclaims, a proud grin on his face.

You stand up with a breath, smiling at Taehyung thankfully when he offers you his arm. "I can't believe this is happening." You mumble, causing Taehyung to smile and shake his head.

"Me neither." He responds, biting his lip.

You both walk up to the stage, bowing to the other winners and giving a playful wave to Ara and Seojun, who had both won as well. As the staff hand you two your awards, you let out a sharp exhale, gazing at it as you held it.

Taehyung does the same, biting back a grin. He glances towards you and elbows you, noticing that the host was still interviewing the other couples. “Congratulations Minhae,” He mumbles, making you let out a chuckle upon hearing your character’s name.

“Congratulations to you as well, Hansung.” You reply, nudging him back.

The two of you stand next to one another and watch the other couples get interviewed, unable to fathom the fact that you were standing on-stage with a lot of very well-respected actors and actresses.

Finally, the two hosts approach you, standing on either side of you both. “Ah, and we finally move onto our last and youngest couple!” The female presenter says, making you both smile.

“Might I just say, you two look dazzling! Was this planned?” The male presenter asks, causing Taehyung to chuckle.

He shakes his head before grabbing the mic, “We didn’t really plan much before showing up. I guess it was just a coincidence that our attires matched.” He answers, the two presenters nodding.

“Now, I want to ask, you two were both known for being the cute and lovable couple of Hwarang. Yet, you two suffered such a sad fate in the end. How did you guys feel when you read about it in the script?”

The presenter hands you the mic and you accept it, looking at Taehyung who smiles at you encouragingly. You smile back before answering the question, “I mean, I don’t know about Taehyung, but I was definitely saddened by it. I actually cried when I first read the script.” You confess with a chuckle, causing the female announcer’s eyes to widen.

“Really?” She asks, slightly surprised.

Taehyung laughs and looks at you for the mic, smiling when you hand it to him. “I can affirm that. I actually had walked into her trailer while she was reading it and I was so surprised to see her crying in her makeup chair.” He says, making the other actors chuckle.

You laugh in embarrassment and playfully cover your face, making the two presenters laugh in amusement.

The male presenter nods his head, a smile on his face. “Aigoo, well, at least we know that even the actors were affected by the ending.”

…

Once the show was done, everyone was slowly beginning go leave the theater and go back to their vans to go home. You were on your way out with Taehyung, Seokjin, and Hoseok following behind, smiles on each of your faces as you talked to one another.

“Alright, well, I think we should get going. Our van’s already in the front.” Hoseok says, patting Seokjin’s shoulder.

You slightly bow to them before giving them a wave. “Get home safely! Thank you so much for letting me hang out with you guys tonight.” You say, making the two members smile.

“Don’t mention it, (Y/N). We had a lot of fun getting to know you!” Seokjin says, “You should definitely come to one of our concerts in the future.”

This makes you smile even wider as you nod, “I would love that.” You say, the members nodding.

“Okay, we’ll see you then!” Hoseok says, giving you a wave before turning to Taehyung. “You’ll ride with Beom-hyung, right?” He asks, the younger member nodding.

You listen to their conversation, slightly confused. “You aren’t going home with them?” You ask Taehyung, who smiles and shakes his head.

“I’ll be going home a bit later.”

You nod, not wanting to pry any further. Then, you hear a honk from the road in front of you, causing the two members to perk up.

“That’s our ride!” Hoseok says, giving you one last smile. “Bye, (Y/N)-ah! It was nice meeting you.”

You smile back, “You too! Get home safe.”

The two members bid you both goodbye before walking into the van, quickly shutting the door behind them before it drives away.

You look back at Taehyung, seeing as he glances back at you. “So, are you headed somewhere after this?” You ask, making him smile sheepishly.

“I was actually going to ask you the same thing,” He says, nervously brushing his hair back.

You shake your head, “No plans for me, I was just planning on grabbing dinner really quick before heading home.” You reply, causing Taehyung’s eyes to brighten.

“Oh!” He exclaims, “Well, uh—would you want to go and grab dinner together? To celebrate our win?”

You blink, “L-Like the two of us?” You ask, making Taehyung chuckle.

He nods his head, “Yeah,” He replies, “It’ll be my treat! I just thought it would be nice for us to spend some time together. I mean—outside of our jobs fhat is.”

You bite your lip, thinking for a few seconds. Was he asking you out on a date?

“Sure,” You say, a smile forming on your lips. “I would like that.”

He smiles, slightly relieved. “Great, I have the perfect place in mind. It’s not too far from here and it’s also pretty secluded, so we won’t need to worry about anyone seeing us.”

You smile teasingly at this, “Kim Taehyung, you’re not going to murder me, are you?” You ask, causing him to let out a laugh.

“I’ve already seen you die once, (Y/N). I think we’re well past that stage.” He jokes back, the two of you now laughing.

Once his van arrived, he lead you inside and let you contact your manager about the sudden change of plans.

The two of you sat next to one another inside, gazing at the passing buildings as the van began to move. Taehyung clears his throat over the radio music, causing you to glance towards him.

“I never got the chance to tell you myself but, you really do look amazing tonight.” He says, “There’s a reason why everyone kept saying so.”

Your heart warms at this and you give him a grateful smile. “Thank you, Taehyung. You looked great too. Even that aside, I wouldn’t have wanted to get through the night with anyone else.” You say, watching as Taehyung smiles at your remark.

And as the two of you sat in the comfortable silence, gazing at one another, you couldn’t help but think that after acting together as a couple for so long, that maybe—just maybe—there was something between you two that you just had yet to discover.

[dutchdread]

Hi, thank you for your brilliant insights. Maybe it's just a coincidence of the English localization, but do you think there is any thematic relation between Cloud and Tifa's Promise and the Promised Land? (meaning the PL as a state of enlightenment and fulfillment, and considering the Promise with all it's consequences in the story, not just as two separate elements)

I have to be honest here about the limits of my knowledge. I don't speak Japanese so I don't feel comfortable making a hard conclusion about that. That having been said, I believe so yes. As far as I can tell "the promised land" is a pretty literal translation of Yakusoku no ji (約束の地)

Yakusoku (約束) literally meaning promise, "no"(の) meaning "of" and "ji" (地) literally translating to ground or earth. Personally I highly doubt that that would be an accident, and I think the meaning is pretty clear. If we look at the concept of the promised land as a state of supreme bliss, then it doesn't take a rocket scientist to figure out how that might apply to Clouds case. The core desire of true Cloud was to be capable of protecting people, specifically Tifa, his failure to do so is what leads to his fake persona and eventual AC depression. "The promise" is in itself something that is highlighted as being of special significance both inside the game and out. It's routinely mentioned in Ultimania, and if you remember back to the FFVII:remake announcement it also had the line "the promise has been made". The promise, reunion, the promised land, these things are all more significant than just words, they're returning concepts that have had real thought put into them by the developers. Concerning the promise, it is all about protecting Tifa, which is Clouds deepest desire, it is his state of happiness, to be the hero Tifa can depend on. When Tifa and Cloud enter the lifestream together, Cloud returns to his true self, and along with that realization comes the reveal that Cloud did come for Tifa, he fulfilled his promise, not as a soldier, but as his own flawed human self. Through his return to his true self, he fulfills his promise, thereby reaching his desired state of being, which then directly leads into his coming together with Tifa underneath the highwind. Sometimes I find myself thinking "what if this is all a happy coincidence, what if SE simply struck thematic gold without realizing it?", but this is one of the cases where I think it's just too perfect for it not to be consciously intended. In one fell swoop Cloud fulfills his promise, breaks through his fake self, obtains the inner power needed to vanquish the external threat, obtains that which he has been seeking, together with the girl named after the sefira of balance between strength and beauty? A girl who lives at the 7th heaven. Who is also thematically linked to Valkyries, aka, the lovers of heros?

No, that's all too big of a coincidence, I know I said I didn't want to make too definite of a conclusion, but I feel like these things have to have been by design. If they weren't, I wouldn't just be shocked, I'd be disappointed.

[ilikedetectives]

Thanks for saying it. As a trans woman I was side-eyeing that hashtag the moment I read the “movement explained” post last year saying this:

That wording (from the most prominent voice!) directly implies that there’s an acceptable criteria for womanhood and women outside those criteria don’t count. This kind of thinking always ends up targeting gnc cis women too because they’re not the “right” women, no surprise it happened here. (Apparently a gay cis man is more worth defending to them than gnc and sapphic women too?)

Plus a quick google search would easily tell them Kassandra and Eivor were envisioned as “masculine” as they are now even before the male options were designed? Official ACV concept art for Eivor’s character design even states lady Eivor was designed first and that male Eivor was based off of HER. But sure they’re “shells” based on men 🙄

Looks like they’ve chosen to “highlight, appreciate and support” the fact that queer, gnc women aren’t real women because these women are simply men’s “shells” for being masculine and queer.

Oh I’m so glad that you see this and stay tf away. Aren’t these the same breed that were sooooo outraged after reading and citing that Forbes article by Jason Schreier last year, “OMG Kassandra and Aya/Amunet originally were supposed to be the protagonist, I’m so oUTraGEd and feel rOBbeD that Ubisoft took this from us”? You’d think with all the devs that they are good friends with, they should know by now that Kassandra and f!Eivor were designed first in mind, then the male counterparts were added AFTER being forced by higher-ups and marketing. The Montreal writers keep having to reassure people that everything about Eivor is intentional and they have always intended that Eivor is a female. The first name alone, Eivor, is a female name. I think the devs already know they’d have to deal with idiots, so they added Varinsdottir in her last name (dottir means “daughter”), but I think the devs still underestimate their level of stupidity. They sure are attentive to plot details when it involves their brotherhood though, but women? *wheeze* They love AC2 sfm but it didn’t take them until last year to realize how dirty Aya/Amunet treated. Nobody paused when Origins was announced to say, but Amunet statue? Pleaseeee *wheeze* For them to go around saying that Kass and f!Eivor are just “shells” based on men and now, practically calling the devs lazy because making them masculine to save time/effort in development time really shows their true colors. If a woman isn’t slim-af-and-only-attracted-to-cishet men, then they’re not women. gnc, queer, trans women? I don’t need to take a guess to see what they view these women as. These fake feminists don’t find it disrespectful that Kass and f!Eivor are pushed aside for the male shells to take the spotlight, but they find Kass and f!Eivor being masculine and queer disrespectful. Someone please turn on “Send in the Clowns'' for me, I prefer the Judi Dench version.

You know what I find hypocritical about these fake feminist breeds? When they call for more female assassins content, they never once invalidate their beloved male protags, “We’re not here to cancel m!Eivor/Alexios/Bayek/Jacob/Arno, we just want more of f!Eivor/Kassandra/Amunet/Evie/Elise/Aveline”, but now that they have more backers, they immediately turn around and dismiss the only two AAA female protags as women because they’re “too masculine, like men.” That’s right! f!Eivor walking like a man and both Kass and f!Eivor wear male armors and are attracted to women automatically dismiss their existence as gnc, queer women. Being a masculine, queer woman somehow exempt them both from sexism because these two are just “men’s shells”? What kinda Isu drugs are they on? Now I wish f!Eivor had a true buff Viking body in her vanilla state (I know there’s muscles mod by amisthiosintraining and I, but still), because what else are these fake feminists gonna trash her on? f!Eivor is a shell for m!Eivor? *wheeze* What could’ve been said was, “I want a female-protag-only game because then the devs can focus all their time and effort on her story, for her” or “Ubisoft should give the devs more time, resources, and creative freedom to give players more historical context of the struggles the female protags have to deal with, compared to male protags”. For example: a side quest with Aspasia as she deals with how sexist people (surprise, women can be sexist too) were towards her as perhaps the most educated, influential woman in Athens at the time. Or how Kassandra had to fight her way to be allowed to compete in the Olympics. That’s all that’s needed to be said. There’s nothing wrong with asking/wanting a feminine female protag who is gender-conforming, but it says a lot about their true view of women when they drag gnc and queer women down to parade their idea of a superior woman.

But what did these fake feminists choose to “highlight, appreciate and support” instead? Oh that’s right, disregarding both Kassandra and f!Eivor as inferior women, because them fakers don’t deemed masculinity and queerness as the aUThenTIc female experience they want to play as. You know what’s worse? Pitting these female characters together to rate how “feminine” each of them are to deem which ones are more “real” as a woman. Can you imagine them doing that to the male protags? Knowing full well that the devs’ hands were tied when it comes to creative freedom when making Kassandra and f!Eivor, but still go around and shit on the devs for being “lazy”, while dismissing Kassandra f!Eivor experience as women because of their gnc and queerness. What kinda Beta Sigma (BS) is this? Oh I think I know the answer: reinforcing their ideas of what they find acceptable for their version of a woman. Honestly, it’s not the first time gnc, queer women are shit on in AC, remember that cursed DLC from Odyssey? Yea. I expect nothing more from Ubisoft-certified fans. Watch, if we somehow get a female-lead AAA game next installment and she happens to be queer, gnc, and godforbid to their fEMinISt standards, she happens to be trans as well, these fakers would most likely scream, “We support women. We want the REAL woman experience”. But if she happens to conform into their fEMinISt standards, you’ll get to hear how she’s their most favorite protag since Ezio cuz she’s a “real woman”. Again, nothing wrong with gender-conforming, feminine women, but using them as THE superior example, this fuckery/fakery reeks.

One last general tip from Doctor Who, “Goodness is not goodness that seeks advantage. Good is good in the final hour, in the deepest pit, without hope, without witness, without reward.” Look closely and you’ll see what those advantages and rewards are. 

p/s: Didn’t Ubisoft CEO just appoint his family member(s) to be in charge, while there were also discussion on how the new directors are no better than the sexist, racist ones that were fired/let-go? Sounds to me like it’s business as usual again. Or us Vietnamese have a saying, “It’s easier for rivers and mountains to change than human’s nature to even budge” (giang sơn dễ đổi, bản tính khó dời). I find it so ironic that “gaslight gatekeep girlboss” is trending on my dash.

[dweetwise]

i can’t remember the last time i wrote a proper date, this was a joy to work on and i hope you enjoy <3

ship: felix x ace warnings: none word count: 3740

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Where there’s smoke, there’s fire (part 5)

Felix despises meeting clients.

They're entitled, they're whiny, and in this particular case, they're obnoxious and unwilling to compromise.

It takes half an hour of their appointment to even get to its point, the client and his associates preferring to engage in pointless small talk, as if this small talk was worth Felix’s 18-hour flight. Still, he puts on his business face and laughs his polite fake laugh to humor them, since the project is important to Lauren.

When Felix finally gets to presenting his studio’s offer to the group, there's an influx of stupid questions that he hadn't prepared for. He improvises the best he can and ignores the rude comments about Lauren's design style, trying not to let the annoyance show on his face.

The hours tick by and his clients don’t seem to be in any sort of hurry, content to keep bullshitting and dragging out the appointment. Felix’s pulse is racing and he almost feels like he’s about to be sick, nerves mixing with dread as he realizes he’s going to be late for his date with Ace.

When he's finally allowed to leave, five excruciating hours and way too many fake laughs and handshakes later, Felix is almost ready to kill someone.

Instead, he calls Ace as soon as the office building’s doors close behind him.

“Hello?” Ace's voice sounds annoyed, and Felix doesn't blame him in the slightest.

“I'm sorry, my meeting ran late,” Felix apologizes hurriedly, checking his watch to notice it’s already six o’clock. “Do you still want to meet?”

“Oh! Yeah, sure!” Ace's voice perks up, his words difficult to make out through some strange background noise. “Don't worry about it, I kinda lost track of time too.”

“I can come straight from the office, I'll just get a cab,” Felix says, looking around the street for signs of a taxi.

“Uh, alright!” Ace’s voice sounds surprised. “There's this Italian place just a few blocks from the hotel. I can be there in twenty, I'll text you the address.”

“Sounds good,” Felix sighs, already feeling calmer now that he knows he didn't mess up his chance with the man.

Somehow, despite the taxi getting stuck in traffic for minutes on end, Felix arrives at the restaurant before Ace does. He hovers near the entrance awkwardly, not sure whether he should go inside to wait.

He decides to stay outside on the sidewalk, hoping the fresh air will soothe some of his overwhelming nerves. Standing there in his work clothes, clutching his briefcase and repeatedly glancing at his watch, Felix feels utterly ridiculous and is already starting to regret the entire thing.

Ace is either ten minutes late or is standing him up. Is it revenge for Felix neglecting to contact him earlier? Was Felix imagining the connection between them? Felix really shouldn’t have come; he's completely drained after the meeting and would much rather curl up in his hotel bed—

And then he spots Ace making his way over, and as soon as their eyes meet the doubts fizzle out and disappear.

“Hey, handsome!” Ace greets with a radiant smile, and Felix is instantly ready to forgive him. “How was work?”

“It was fine,” Felix lies, not wanting to sour the other's permanent good mood.

“I'm glad!" Ace says. “Hope you're hungry, because I'm starving,” he smiles, reaching for the restaurant door and holding it open for Felix.

Almost as soon as they step inside, Felix’s anxiety decides to flare up. The place looks more casual than he'd pictured, and he feels way too overdressed, his stiff suit and tie surely standing out among the crowd.

“Sorry I didn't have time to get changed,” Ace apologizes, coming up beside him. “I was planning to wear something nicer for you.”

Felix realizes Ace is in the same clothes as earlier today, apart from a blazer he's slung casually over his shoulder. It's reassuring to know Felix isn't the only one worrying about his outfit, even if Ace's patterned button-up seems much more fitting for the occasion.

“It's fine, I also would have preferred not to wear my work clothes,” Felix says, discreetly starting to tug off his tie to attempt to make the look more casual.

“Well, I do love a man in a suit,” Ace says and shoots him a wink, and Felix decides he definitely needs to remove some layers if he's going to survive the dinner without sweating buckets from the flirty attention.

While Felix is shrugging out of his suit jacket, a waiter comes to greet them and Ace effortlessly takes over, making small talk while they're shown to a table and given their menus.

"You got any wine recommendations?” Ace asks the waiter.

“Our house wine is a light chardonnay that goes well with most of our dishes.”

“Perfect,” Ace says, before turning to Felix. “You wanna share a bottle?”

“Yes, please,” Felix says, relieved at the chance to get some alcohol in his system. Maybe it’ll finally make him stop fretting so he can focus on their date.

As the waiter leaves to get their drinks, Felix follows Ace’s example and familiarizes himself with the menu. They make some small talk about the dishes, most of them unfamiliar to Felix, prompting Ace to make a few gentle suggestions. Following the advice, Felix settles on chicken risotto while Ace goes with some sort of seafood pasta that sounds way too adventurous for Felix’s taste.

The waiter returns to pour their drinks and take their orders, and Felix tries not to cringe in embarrassment as he butchers his dish’s pronunciation after Ace fluently orders his own.

“So, um…” Felix starts once the waiter leaves with their orders. “What do you do? For a living?”

The question feels clunky on his tongue, but isn't that what people ask on first dates? Felix takes a bigger gulp of wine than is appropriate to wash down his embarrassment.

“Straight to business, huh?” Ace says, his voice teasing, before taking a sip of his own wine. “You could say I'm a professional poker player.”

The surprise must be clear on Felix's face, because Ace chuckles.

“Not the most conventional gig, I know,” Ace offers good-naturedly.

“That sounds… interesting,” Felix says, realizing that somehow, the job makes sense. He should have guessed the strange man would have an unconventional occupation. “What is it like?”

“Unpredictable, risky and infuriating,” Ace huffs, before grinning. “But I love it.”

Felix nods in acknowledgement and stays silent, wordlessly encouraging Ace to go on.

“It’s just…” Ace eagerly continues. “The feeling of winning a high-stakes game? The anticipation and nerves when you don’t really have a good hand but have to keep going anyway, and finally manage the card you need at the very last round? Nothing else even comes close!”

Felix happily listens to Ace talk, enraptured by his ever-growing smile and eyes shining with pure, childlike excitement. He always enjoyed hearing people share their passions in life, and it sounds like cards are to Ace like architecture is to Felix.

“So I might be known to take a few more risks than most players,” Ace adds with an impish smile. “But it mostly works out—I don’t mean to brag, but I’ve been told I’m quite lucky,” he says, shooting Felix a wink.

Felix chuckles against the rim of his wine glass, enjoying the attention even if it makes his cheeks feel warm. He can’t deny Ace took a gamble by approaching him, though he wouldn’t necessarily attribute the success of that gamble to luck.

Speaking of gambling...

“Is your name a coincidence, or…?” Felix asks.

“Oh, funny story, that!” Ace chuckles. “I actually had it changed because of a bet.”

“I—excuse me?” Felix says.

“I was on this insane blackjack win streak in Vegas,” Ace says. “Got to play at the high rollers’ table; big bets, even bigger wins. It got to a point where people were crowding around the table, the other players dropping out just to make wagers on when I’d finally lose.”

Felix leans closer, listening raptly as Ace tells his story. He’s never been one for gambling, but he can almost see the scene play out in front of him; others looking on in awe and horror as risky bets were made, Ace reveling in the attention in the middle of it all.

“So, eventually, I bet everything on a single round,” Ace grins. “Crowd gasps and cheers, guy next to me says I’m a complete dumbass for pushing my luck.”

Felix can’t help but agree with the nameless player, but he bites his tongue.

“And wouldn’t you know it, I get a hard ten and the dealer gets a twenty,” Ace says. “Crowd’s cringing, guy’s laughing, saying there’s no way I’m getting a blackjack. So, I announce that if I get an ace, I’m legally changing my name to that.”

“And?” Felix asks, sounding more eager than he means to when Ace pauses for dramatic effect.

“Dealer hits me with an ace, jaws drop to the floor, I make a dent in the casino’s profit that night,” Ace smirks victoriously. “Got my name changed within the hour—good thing paperwork’s easy in Vegas.”

“That’s… wow,” Felix chuckles, taking a sip of his wine while he lets the incredulous tale sink in.

“Told you I’m lucky,” Ace says. “The money might not have lasted long, but I got a kick-ass name and good story out of it! Actually, there was this other time…” Ace suddenly trails off and glances to his right.

When Felix follows suit, having been completely immersed in looking at Ace, he notices the waiter approaching with their food.

Felix gives a polite nod as his order is placed in front of him. The appearance of the dish isn’t the most appetizing, even if the chef has clearly tried to pretty up the chicken and rice with some garnish. However, the smell is absolutely delicious, making Felix eager for a taste.

“Thank you,” Ace smiles up at the waiter as he receives his own serving.

The waiter is off with a polite “enjoy your meals” and Felix’s stomach rumbles in return.

“Well, bon appetit!” Ace offers, thankfully not seeming to have heard the sound.

“How do you say it in Italian?” Felix asks, wanting to acknowledge Ace’s roots.

When Ace looks up in surprise at the question before smiling brightly, Felix gives himself a mental pat on the back for accidentally being smooth.

“Buon appetito,” Ace says, looking at him warmly.

“Buon… apetito?” Felix tries his best to repeat the sentence.

“That’s it,” Ace encourages, happy with his attempt. “Now dig in, before it gets cold!”

Felix doesn’t need to be told twice. He scoops a small bit of the mushy rice and some chicken onto his fork, careful to avoid a piece of mushroom sitting on top as a garnish.

As suspected, the food tastes just as good as it smells. The rice is creamy and the chicken is tender, a strong flavor of cheese and herbs accompanying the taste.

“What’s the verdict?” Ace asks playfully, having apparently paused his eating to watch Felix slowly chew through his food.

“It’s very good,” Felix praises, going to scoop a bigger piece onto his utensils. “And yours?”

“Really nice!” Ace says, returning to his meal. “It’s been a while since I had this dish. Can’t really go wrong with it.”

Felix nods in acknowledgement and takes another bite of his food, this time accompanying it with a sip of wine. Ace seems happy to follow suit, and there’s a beat of comfortable silence as they enjoy their meals.

“So…” Ace speaks up, turning his attention back to Felix. “I realize I kinda went off earlier, only talking about myself.”

“I don’t mind,” Felix reassures. “It was a good story.”

“One of my favorites,” Ace grins. “But what about you? What do you do?”

“Me?”

“I mean, I only heard you bitch about your clients last night,” Ace says, and Felix is embarrassed to realize that he's right.

How on earth Ace not only dealt with his awkwardness, but also listened to him whine about his work and still decided to approach him is beyond Felix’s understanding.

“Which sounds totally justified, by the way,” Ace reassures with a grin when Felix internally panics instead of replying. “I just never caught what it actually is that you do. I've been guessing between law and marketing.”

“Sorry," Felix says, giving an apologetic smile for talking Ace's ear off the other night. “I'm actually an architect.”

“Oh, neat!” Ace exclaims. “I should've known you weren't just a pretty face,” he offers with a wink over the rim of his wine glass.

“It's not nearly as complicated as you seem to think,” Felix says, fidgeting from the praise.

“Modest, too,” Ace grins.

Felix doesn’t know how to reply to the compliment, so he opts to take a big bite of his food instead.

“Anyway, I promised to take your mind off work, huh?” Ace says. “What do you do for fun?”

Felix falters. He always dreads the hobby question, since his job pretty much is his entire life. Obsessively checking work emails or drinking until he passes out surely don't count as hobbies.

“I usually read architecture magazines or go jogging,” Felix lies.

Ace doesn’t reply, only quirks a skeptical eyebrow through a mouthful of pasta.

“Ehm… what?” Felix asks, suddenly self-conscious.

“This isn't a job interview,” Ace snorts in amusement. “I asked what you do for fun.”

“Ähm, sorry,” Felix apologizes, looking at the tablecloth in embarrassment.

“I'll start!” Ace decides. “I like to laze around and watch shitty 3PM telenovelas.”

“Telenovelas?”

“Oh. Latin American soaps,” Ace explains with a smile. “They're tacky and predictable but remind me of home.”

Felix returns a small smile, finding the thought of Ace watching cheesy afternoon TV oddly endearing.

“I guess I enjoy quiz programs,” Felix says. “And… maybe get a little frustrated when the participants get the obvious ones wrong,” he confesses.

“I bet you’d do great in one of those,” Ace says. “You’re so smart.”

“I’d probably swallow my own tongue from the nerves,” Felix mumbles, poking at his food.

“Oh, right,” Ace hums in thought, followed by another smile. “God, it’s so funny that a gorgeous guy like you is so shy,” he chuckles.

“It’s embarrassing, I know—” Felix starts.

“It’s endearing,” Ace corrects, and Felix swears his heart skips a beat.

“Do you have any other hobbies?” Felix asks, feeling like he needs to contribute to the conversation.

“Do lame card tricks count?” Ace grins. “If not, I sometimes play guitar—badly, I might add.”

“Both of those sound like a lot of fun,” Felix says. “I’ve never played an instrument.”

“It’s fun if you don’t take it seriously! You should try it, if you ever get the time,” Ace encourages.

They finish the rest of their meals while chatting pleasantly. Felix finds it easy to open up, Ace’s warm smile and relaxed demeanor putting him at ease. At the same time, he’s eager to learn more about Ace, every small detail he hears only serving to make him even more fond of the man.

When Felix eventually finishes his dish, save for the mushrooms and some questionable greens he doesn’t recognize, Ace has the audacity to look at his plate with a knowing smirk.

“What?” Felix says, although suspecting he already knows the answer.

“Nothing!” Ace says. “I’m just happy I got a picky eater to… almost finish his plate.”

“For the record, I liked the food,” Felix argues, bantering along. “It’s much better than the idiot sandwiches I had for lunch.”

“Uh… idiot sandwiches?” Ace asks, quirking an eyebrow.

“Oh, eh…” Felix falters, feeling stupid for resorting to an inside joke the other obviously wouldn’t understand. “That’s what my business partner calls the stale snacks that are served in meetings. Like sandwiches and quiche and the like.”

“I… see?” Ace says, obviously still confused.

“You know… like in the joke?”  Felix explains, but Ace looks even more lost, cocking his head in curiosity. “With the bread,” Felix says, placing his hands on the side of his head in a poor imitation of the video Lauren showed him once.

“I've gotta confess, I'm not great with tech,” Ace finally admits in defeat.

“Well, at least you know how to use a smartphone,” Felix says, recalling Ace effortlessly texting and exchanging their numbers.

“Okay, I'm not that old,” Ace jokes and kicks him playfully under the table.

While they’re sharing a chuckle, the waiter comes by to collect their plates.

“Did you enjoy your meals?” he asks.

“Absolutely!” Ace says.

“It was very good,” Felix agrees.

“I’m glad,” the waiter says with a smile.

And as he leaves with their plates without further blabbering, Felix makes a mental note to tip him well for making the evening such a pleasant experience.

“So,” Felix says, eager to return to the conversation with his date. “How old are you?”

It’s only when Ace quirks an amused eyebrow that Felix realizes his mistake.

“Sorry, you don't have to say,” Felix says, nervously wringing his hands under the table for being so rude.

“Naw, I don't mind,” Ace says with a smile. “I'm forty-eight.”

“Oh,” Felix says, not sure how to respond to the predictable answer. “I’m thirty-seven. You, um. You look very good,” he settles on, feeling his neck heating up from the awkward compliment.

“Not so bad for an old coot, huh?” Ace jokes, but something about it doesn’t sit right with Felix.

“What do you mean?” Felix asks.

“I mean…” Ace says, his smile finally faltering. “'You look good' doesn't really have the same ring to it when it's always followed by 'for your age',” Ace admits, staring into his wine glass thoughtfully.

The earnest confession takes Felix off guard; so far, he hasn't seen Ace display any signs of insecurity.

“But hey, that's life!” Ace immediately perks back up, offering a smile that doesn’t seem entirely genuine.

“I didn’t mean for your age,” Felix feels the need to clarify. “I think you’re, ehm. Very handsome,” he mumbles, and by now his face must be bright red.

But it’s worth it, because Ace’s smile softens into one that finally reaches his eyes.

“Thanks,” Ace says, before clearing his throat. “I mean, I don’t really let stuff like that bring me down, but… it’s still nice to hear, you know?”

“I do,” Felix says, deciding he should try to take a page from Ace’s book and be freer with his compliments, awkwardness be damned.

The waiter chooses that time to return to their table, not an entirely unwelcome distraction from the sudden feelings blooming in Felix’s chest.

“Would you like to order dessert? Coffee?” the waiter asks.

Ace only smirks and looks at Felix mischievously.

“I had something else in mind,” Ace says, his voice sounding deeper than before. “What about you, babe?”

Felix flushes both at the nickname and the reminder that for all intents and purposes, he is the dessert.

“I'm good as well, thank you,” he manages with a surprisingly steady voice, gulping down some more wine.

“We'll probably just finish up the wine and take the check,” Ace offers to the waiter with another pleasant smile.

“Of course,” the waiter says and is off with a polite nod.

“Wow, I didn't even realize the time,” Ace says, glancing at the clock over the bar counter.

Felix's gaze follows suit, and he sees that they've apparently been in the restaurant for over an hour.

“Time flies, huh?” Ace grins.

“Indeed,” Felix agrees.

He feels much more relaxed than when they arrived; the wine, good food and cozy atmosphere surely all have played a part in making him feel comfortable.

But not nearly as much as the company.

“Here you go, gorgeous,” Ace says, smiling as he refills both of their glasses with the remaining wine.

“Thank you,” Felix says, the cheesy compliment no longer making him fluster.

Instead, there’s a warm fluttering in his gut, fondness for his date mixing with anticipation of what’s to come.

It’s only when the waiter returns to drop their check on the table and Ace immediately reaches for it that Felix wipes the lovestruck smile off his face.

“You’re not paying,” Felix protests, reaching his hand over the table towards the bill.

“Oh, I think I am,” Ace says, lifting the small folder out of Felix’s reach. “I was the one who asked you out.”

“That doesn’t matter,” Felix argues. “It’s my treat.”

“Hmm, let me think about it,” Ace says, pretending to mull over the suggestion. “Nope!” he grins.

“Ace,” Felix says, exasperated but not able to stop the corner of his mouth from twitching up.

“Felix,” Ace counters with a shit-eating grin, and Felix snorts an ugly chuckle at the other’s ridiculousness.

After a few minutes of playful arguing, Ace begrudgingly agrees to split the bill.

But Felix adds the tip money before Ace has a chance to, much to the other’s annoyance.

“It’s not splitting if you pay twenty bucks on top of half,” Ace argues when they’re making to leave.

“You didn’t mention the tip, so it’s only fair,” Felix points out, smiling smugly as he rebuttons his suit jacket.

“Where’s this sudden sass coming from?” Ace exclaims in mock shock, a hand over his heart. “I’m starting to think the shyness is an elaborate act,” he teases.

And then he, once again, holds the door open for Felix as they exit the restaurant.

“You got me,” Felix says sarcastically. “I’m actually a stand-up comedian, not an architect.”

Ace laughs warmly at his joke, and something in Felix’s heart clenches.

He doesn’t know what comes over him. In one instant, Felix is watching Ace’s smile as he keeps playing off of the joke, and in the next, Ace is freezing mid-sentence, eyes momentarily widening in surprise as Felix has grabbed his hand with his own.

Felix already has an apology ready on his tongue for his embarrassing lapse in judgement, but Ace apparently has other ideas. His hand returns the hold on Felix’s as he resumes the conversation right where they left off, taking Felix’s clingy gesture in stride.

And Felix doesn’t remember when he’s last felt as happy as when they walk the few blocks to their hotel making stupid jokes and holding hands.

[ye-bloodeh-liar]

I just finished AC Valhalla – A résumé.

I finished the "main story" of Assassin's Creed Valhalla. These are some thoughts of mine. (This was saved in my drafts for two weeks or so. But my stance hasn't altered. Actually, I'm even angrier now.)

Disclaimer: This obviously contains some spoilers here and there. You've been warned, but tbh, who even cares about the story at this point. Also, I know I don't have many followers, and I suspect none of the few that will come across this post will actually be interested in it. That said, if you like reading people's rants about things, regardless of your interest in video games, this might be something for you. I just needed to get this out of my system somewhere. This is a rant (well, vent? I'm venting, I guess) written as it came to my mind. There's no real structure, I think. Sorry for that in advance.

After Origins, which I thoroughly enjoyed and actually played again between Odyssey and Valhalla, and Odyssey, which's name was perfectly fitting since it felt like a fucking odyssey to grind through, I hoped, actually, I was convinced, Valhalla would right Odyssey's wrongs. You see, Odyssey had one big problem for me: It did none of the things that made and still make me love Origins. In short: The world was massive, but felt copied and pasted, uninteresting to explore and lifeless. Basically, it was a lot of green sprinkled with some olive branches. A lot of the times the only way to know roughly where I am was pulling up the map because based on my surroundings, I could've been anywhere. Compared to the intriguing world of Origins, where you always knew in which area of the map you currently were, this was a shitshow. I mean, just walking through the desert in Origins had more atmosphere than the whole city of Athens (the main fucking city) could ever muster up. (Oh, remember the times of AC Brotherhood, where Rome actually felt like a city even though it wasn't actually humongous like the new games are? Or how atmospheric the whole of AC II was? I mean, Venice? Hello? M a s t e r p i e c e) But I can overlook that. The combat didn't feel heavy, or to put it better, "impactful" like it did in Origins, but more like poking the enemies to their deaths with something that made sword-y sounds. But I can overlook that. The loot system improved a bit, in the sense of giving the option to modify your loot and being able to combine different armor pieces, however, Origins outfit-system was more up my alley. But I can overlook that. Funnily enough, compared to its predecessor, Odyssey looked worse. In Origins the fabric of your outfit look like actual fabric and, I can't stress this enough, waved in the wind. In Odyssey everything felt more static and somehow "fake". But I can overlook that. To me, Origins' story was masterfully done. Personally, I'd say, that this is the closest we've ever gotten to the Ezio-Trilogy. The voice acting was top notch. Bayek was a great character, and the side characters like Aya/Amunet were equally intriguing. I still remember the first time I saw the first confession cutscene after killing Medunamun. It gave me shivers and goosebumps and got me excited for what was about to come. What I want to say with this, is that Origins made me care; care about its characters, care about their backstory and motives, care about the world, etc. After I had finished the DLC The Hidden Ones I felt like I had actually witnessed the igniting spark of something epic, namely the Assassin Brotherhood, in such a chilling way, even though they basically were just chillin' in a cave. Because that's what character building gives you: payoffs. Well, Odyssey did none of that. All it did made me care about was to get all the loot, because that's what my mind always goes for in any game (I'm that kind of stupid ape). I didn't care about what would happen in the end – I just wanted to get there. I wanted to know how the story would end, but in whichever way it would, I knew I wouldn't care for it in the sense of being disappointed or yearning for a different outcome for the character I was so invested in, because, as I said, nothing got me invested in the character(s) in the first place. That's what bugged me the most about Odyssey. Not the flimsy feeling combat, not the husk of a world I found myself in, not the downgrade in design and animation, etc., but the lack of care it invoked.

Now, when Valhalla was originally announced, I was excited as I could be for a video game. Ubisoft was clearly aware of their mistakes with Odyssey and tried to show that they're willing to listen to their fanbase. A world where every area has its own identity? Sounds great. Heavy combat? Hell yeah. Gear and loot that actually matters and is special (unlike in Odyssey where after a few hours of playing you find yourself carrying the same fucking bow 25 times)? Oh my. Choices not for the sake of choices, but story? Yes please. I mean, if you have to implement choices. Even though choices don't really make sense in Assassin's Creed, but that's another topic.

Well, did it deliver (for me)? No. And to be completely honest, I prefer Odyssey, even as the grindfest that it is, over Valhalla, and me replaying Odyssey seems a lot more likely to me, than going through all of Valhalla again. I'm not going to list all of the points mentioned above again in full detail: The world is a bit more intriguing than Greece, but a shadow of what Egypt was. The combat feels heavy, yet every weapon looks too big (????) and it still feels a bit off. My biggest grudge of the minor points is actually the look/the graphics: How on earth does Valhalla manage to look less real than Origins? The fur and pelts on the armor, every piece of cloth, i mean just e v e r y t h i n g looks somewhat plasticy (at loss for a better word here; just compare Origins' outfits in motion to Valhalla's) Anyway, let's get to the real problem here, because all boils down to the point I've mentioned before: Invoking care.

This became very apparent to me after forging the fourth (?; was it the fourth? They all blur together. That's how e n t i c i n g they are. Great.) alliance or so. I didn't give a single fuck about the characters in those arcs. It was very clear that they'd be soon replaced by other characters in the next alliance's arc, which I probably wouldn't care for either, especially, since they all felt somewhat the same: empty. Alliances felt like checklists to do. Even Wincestre, which had an interesting beginning, somehow managed to loose all of its "darkness" after the first two quests. But I could overlook the dreary sidequest-like alliance arcs, if they served the main storyline in some way or form. Now you might ask, what main storyline? E x a c t l y. Looking back, there is none. At least not really. And there where a lot of times playing the game where I found myself wondering, if this alliance-arc-thing I was currently dragging myself through was in fact meant to be the actual story. But it shouldn't be. Was it? I have no fucking clue. My conclusion on what Valhalla's main overarching story is, is what follows:

Eivor's parents got killed when he was a child (never seen before lol), got adopted, and is now part of the Raven clan with his "brother" Sigurd//Sigurd comes home from some raid with the Assassins Basim and Hytham//(Eivor gets the Hidden Blade; I mean, this is an Assassin's Creed game. Big moment. Done in 2 seconds.)//Sigurd and Eivor aren't happy with the new King of Norway.//Sigurd and Eivor fuck off to England (with Basim and Hytham) to set camp there.//Eivor starts to forge alliances throughout England to make his clan's hold on England stronger.// Sigurd and Basim do their own thing.//Eivor meets Sigurd and Basim two or three times throughout his alliance forging.//Basim seems a bit off.//Sigurd says that he was told (by Basim?) that he is a descendant of the gods.// Sigurd wants to "pursue his destiny"// (sidenote: the last few things are all within one (!) short cutscene in a small house. d e v e l o p m e n t.)//Sigurd gets captured and tortured and loses his hand.//Eivor rescues Sigurd.// Sigurd is back in the settlement.//Sigurd distrusts Eivor because Eivor doesn't believe Sigurd and Sigurd thinks Eivor wants to take his title as the jarl (jarls are the bosses of settlements).// And then the end sequence hits. This is where I want to go into somewhat detail again. We go from Sigurd distrusts Eivor to "Eivor, I don't wanna be the boss of the town, so I don't hold a grudge anymore, let's go back to Norway and I'll show you I was right all along" like it's nothing. It's literally just that: You walk up to Sigurd, he says this (more or less) and you sail away. Again: development is taken very seriously in this game. Honestly, at this point I didn't even know that this was going to trigger the ending. My genuine thoughts were "Oh my, finally, after all this grinding, the story is going to start." when in reality of course, ironically, it was going to end. Absolute belter. So you sail to Norway with Sigurd, which takes fucking forever, because OF COURSE you have to sail (for everyone who didn't play the game, yes, sail, that means looking at a viking longship while occasionally moving the stick slightly to change its directions slightly) to your original settlement in Norway, for what feels like far too long, only to say Hi to your dad. Fucking lost it. I thought we were going to assassinate the King? Nah bruv let's just have some quick family talk instead. Some action? Nah. Just get back to the longship. A N D S T A R T S A I L I N G A G A I N. Where? Just around the curve of our settlement in Norway. Yes, they pulled the old trick of the ending is literally just right around the corner of your starting position hehe. Absolute belter. Is this to make it seem like something is about to happen? The calm before the storm? It doesn't work like that. Well, then you actually sail through a storm (lol), which doesn't matter, because Sigurd just says "Let's keep going" and, well, you keep going. Also, to this point the weather conditions have never affected neither Eivors health, nor the ship in any way whatsoever, so why should I be impacted by a storm now? Like, it's a nice thing for atmosphere, but at least make the ship harder to steer or something. Then you walk up a mountain. Funnily enough Sigurd walks in manner that shows that the walk against the storm isn't easy, whereas you, hah, you can just yeet yourself up that mountain like nothing. I could sprint up there. Fucking sprint. Anyway, Eivor and Sigurd enter the Isu temple, because of course, we had to throw an Isu temple in there, I mean, i t ' s A s s a s s i n ' s C r e e d. Was it hinted at before in the story? Not really. Were we chasing or searchig for it? Nah, better get that next alliance going. It just suddenly was. Again: development. So we walk to the main platform of the temple and activate the machine and bam we're in Valhalla (because at some point Ubisoft realised that maybe they should include what is literally in the name of the game). Again, were we looking for Valhalla? Like not in the sense that every viking was, but more in the sense

of was it the main objective of the game? Did Eivor look for a way to Valhalla? Was there anything that led us here other than Sigurd having had a few dreams (that only got mentioned, like, twice?) and being influenced into thinking he was a demigod or something? Nope, Eivor was looking for that next alliance to forge. So, Eivor realises that his experience of Valhalla is fake and he wants to get out. But fake-Odin doesn't want to let him go. In a really weird cutscene (jump to 6:30), Eivor eventually escapes Odin and enters a door with his settlement-family (look, I'm all here for metaphors, but this, this is just utter rubbish. It just doesn't make sense, and there is no payoff whatsoever). Odin actually had a build-up of some sort. In every assassination sequence he's there and talks with Eivor. I actually thought there would be some cool payoff/ending/reveal here. But nah, this ain't it chief. Yet somehow, until here, I had hope. I thought maybe now, building on all this confusion, there's gonna be a relatively good ending. Something enticing. Something that made everything somewhat worthwile. And Ubisoft went: Lol nah. So, you're out of the Isu machine again (for all the non-AC-peoples here: basically like the matrix. Eivor gets hooked up to the machine and experiences alternate reality: Valhalla), and Basim is there. What a twist. The guy that showed up like three times and went from friendly in the first time to super suspicious (like glaring-in-your-face-suspicious) in the two-or-so other major cutscenes he was in, has now been revealed as the enemy. Congrats to that. What a twist. The thing is, and this bothers me a lot actually, it could have been anyone there. It didn't need to be Basim. It wouldn't have felt out of place if it wasn't him. Why? Because Ubisoft failed terribly at making you connect to any character and at building any actual story (or character). It could have been Gunnar, the friendly black-smith in our settlement, and it would have been as fitting as Basim. Then Basim says that this is "for his son". Ah yes, the lost son of Basim, which was mentioned once. Right. Eivor defeats Basim by hooking him up on the Isu machine and gets back to the settlement with Sigurd (in my ending at least. There seems to be a possible ending in which Sigurd doesn't come back.) Cut to the modern day, where Layla now knows the coordinates of the Isu temple, goes there, hooks herself up to the machine, becomes the overseer of time with the other overseer of time which already was hanging out there (I mean yeah, great idea, terrible execution. Build it up, then you can have a payoff. This was just straight outta nowhere, and who cared about Layla anyway.) Anyway, meanwhile Basim, who was still hanging on that machine a fuck ton of years later, pops off, and is now living in the modern day. The idea here is, that we lost the hero (Layla) which caused the (just established) vilain (Basim) to do his fuckery in the modern day. But why should I care? Basim was basically nonexistent in the basically nonexistent story and suddendly I should feel sad or shocked, because he's in the modern day? Is this supposed to be intriguing? And yeah, Layla is "gone". Layla, who had no character building over three fucking games. Why should i be bothered? Why should I care about anything that just happened? Remember when a side character (Lucy) died in AC Brotherhood? That was intriguing. Why? Because they built her as a character we (Desmond) trusted, even though it was in the modern day (which no one really cares about in AC). And this is why Valhalla broke me and Odyssey didn't. Valhalla failed to make me care on a much deeper level. It's just a lot of nothingness. Empty characters in a nonexistent story. And by nonexistent, I mean non-built at all. When I play the game now, I have no actual reason, and throughout the game never actually had any actual reason, to continue. It was a chore. I didn't bother if after three hours of grind I would eventually get a mini-snippet of a husk of a story, and neither do I care now. Everything in

this game is so devoid of sparking curiosity and screams of lacklusterness to the point where I don't even know what I have actually expierenced. For fuck's sake Ubisoft, make me care again. At least once in 40 hours.

May I sum up Valhalla's "story" and content in the glorious words of Catherine Tate: Am I bovvered? The answer, sadly, is a holistic no.

[merakiui]

then, could i rq mori with a guillable s/o who's maybe a little too trusting in others 👉👈? i just!! rlly like opposites attract stuff hgshndnd

An Ace and a Fox (Mori)

> spy au 

Not good, you think to yourself as you analyze your surroundings to determine your current location. The warehouse provides little visibility, lit only by the windows on the second floor. Most of the them have been boarded up, and debris litters the ground. You’ve never found yourself in this sort of situation before. While you’ve been deceived in the past, it was never to this level of extremity. At least you aren’t blindfolded, so one of your senses isn’t completely useless. Still, this isn’t good at all.

No matter how Hollywood the circumstances may seem, you know this won’t have a good ending if you don’t find a way out. Your memory resurfaces as you sit there, tied to an uncomfortable chair with thick rope pressing against your constricted limbs. Hours ago, you were trying to pawn off some items you had found while dumpster diving. You had been desperate for cash, needing it for food and to pay your bills. There was also the money and favors you owed a few acquaintances. The scary reality is beginning to dawn on you as you remember just how late you are on your payment. And this time it’s gotten serious.

In hindsight, you should’ve moved to another country when you had the chance. But would any of that matter? You were positive they’d find you and attempt to wring you dry of the money you so rightfully owed. Unfortunately, you’re at a loss, unable to even afford a night at a one-star hotel. How did they expect you to pay off favors when you were barely getting by? Well, to be frank, you did this to yourself. You knew very well not to get involved with shady dealers. You should’ve turned a blind eye when that suspiciously inviting hand was held out to you in your time of need, a silent testimony to the unfavorable bond you were slowly forming with a hungry snake.

Though this can hardly be called a bond. Waiting for your demise doesn’t seem fair, but this is what your life has become. Best to suck it up and pray that luck is on your side.

A pair of fancy footsteps ring out, startling you into focusing. Designer shoes, made of leather and sewn to grim perfection, make their way towards you. You don’t have to look up to know who it is. You’re well aware of the man looming over you, dressed in a fine tuxedo and an even finer wrath. Your time of ruminating over an escape is over. Your lucky stars have burnt out, falling to Earth just like your dashed hopes.

“I had faith in you this time, (Name),” he speaks, tone thick and heavy with disdain. “I really did. But we both know it’s not good to hold onto worthless expectations when the ones I’ve set in place aren’t even being met.”

“I’m sorry.”

“An apology won’t suffice. I’m afraid begging for salvation isn’t a suitable look on you. What a shame. I thought you knew better than to ignore the clock.”

“I’ll get your money in a week. That’s all I need. You don’t have to tie me up to get your point across! I know I’m wrong, so let me fix this.”

“You can’t mend what’s already broken.” Sighing, he scuffs his shoe against the concrete. “My men are surrounding us as we chat. Try anything and it’s adios. Well, it’s not like you can do anything in that position.”

“One week,” you repeat, hoping to garner his withering sympathy. “Please. Give me another chance. I won’t let you down.”

“But you’ve already let me down. Countless times, in fact. Why should I believe your words now? What impact will they have if they’re spoken with the same tongue that’s lied a dozen times? You either pay now or you don’t pay at all.”

“I can’t!” you shout, glaring daggers at the snide man. “You know I can’t!”

“If you can’t fork over the money, you deserve to pay with your own blood. Surely that’s a fair deal?” He crosses his arms, tutting in mock disapproval. “It’s not what I would’ve wanted, but I need my money. You’ve ran out of time, (Name).”

“I was in the middle of selling some stuff when your men kidnapped me! I’ll give you everything I got today, and if you let me go I’ll get the rest.”

“Who’s to say you won’t contact the authorities?”

“Have I ever done it in the past?” you snap, a bundle of nerves interlacing with your frantic emotions. “I haven’t, so have a little faith in me.”

“You’re like a chapel that’s run out of hacks to sell. Give it a rest.” Pivoting, your kidnapper doesn’t need to announce his leave. “This is where our business officially ends.”

“Wait, no! I'm making a promise. If you just give me—don’t leave! Time. I need more time. I’ll pay you double of what I owe.”

“Don’t make me repeat myself.” He motions to the dark shadows surrounding the outskirts of your peripheral, and two people—a man and a woman—step out, pointing the cold steel of their guns at the back of your head. “Get rid of this pest. They’ve run their mouth long enough.”

And then he’s walking away, ignoring your pleading cries.

This is it, you think, pupils blown wide and darting to and fro. This is the day I die. These people are going to kill me, and then they’ll hide my corpse. No one will ever find me. I’ll be an unsolved case until the end of time!

You prepare yourself for the end of your pitiful life cycle. With twin barrels aimed for your skull, you know there’s no possibility of survival. Two bullets will find their way into your brain, causing a grand commotion of signals as your body prepares for death. You won’t be able to wonder whether or not endorphins will flood your head because your death might be instant. Or you could simply bleed out, living in a few minutes of cursed consciousness that have been granted unluckily. In your next life, you hope to be smarter than you are now. If you weren’t so easily tricked and manipulated, you might’ve been able to save yourself from this demise months ago.

It’s too late for that now, though.

Squeezing your eyes shut, you listen for the inevitable gunshots. And yet they never come. A dull click makes your eyes snap open, risking a glance at the people behind you. They curse, fumbling with their pistols and muttering about how both firearms are devoid of ammunition. Your heart practically leaps at this turn of events. As if life has been breathed into you via a tube, you struggle in your bindings, trying as hard as you can to loosen them before they’re able to reload. Around you, a symphony of clicking permeates the stilted air, grumblings coming from all over the place. You listen as your kidnapper’s underlings complain about this odd occurrence.

Without warning, bullets rain from above, and that’s when you see him. Dressed in attire befitting a silver-tongued casanova, rich in his appearance and flair, he’s leaning over the railing, looking down at the surprised men and women.

“Looking for these? You can have them.” His tone is teasing, a simple smile plastered to his face. “As long as I can have that hostage. I assume you’re content with this trade.”

“Absolutely not!” a woman shouts, scrambling to load her weapon. She motions wildly. “Go protect the boss. Little Fox is here!”

Little Fox? What a weird name. It’s one of the many thoughts that crosses your mind, but you’re grateful nonetheless for the masked stranger who has come to your rescue. If it weren’t for him, you’d be dead by now, brain matter scattered on the cold ground. I’m so relieved...

“I had a feeling I’d find everyone here.” He drops down from the second floor with such ease that it makes you question his humanity. “Perhaps you should spend your time gambling rather than intimidating this poor soul out of their funds. I suppose money makes people do crazy things. This is most certainly crazy.”

“Enough talking,” you murmur. “Help me out?”

Catching your words, he turns to face you. “And you’re just going to trust me? That doesn’t seem too wise.”

“Well, it’s not like things can get any worse, and you’re the only sane person here. I’m willing to hedge my bets.”

Your phrasing makes him chuckle. Wordlessly, he reveals a stack of playing cards, shuffling through them before plucking one from the deck. And then he flicks it in your direction. It whizzes through the air, past the men and women who are now shooting at the both of you, and it effectively slices the ropes, which fall in your lap. The glowing card returns to the deck in no time. In awe, you look around at the bullets that seem to evade you, as if they were being controlled.

“What is this?” you whisper, at a loss for an explanation. “Little Fox, who are you?”

“Who are you, to be so gullible as to get tangled up with these people?” he retorts. “We need to hurry. This gimmick won’t last forever.”

“Huh? I’m confused—whoa!” Another playing card zips past your face, nearly cutting your cheek, as it makes way for a man taking aim. More cards, glowing a bright, mesmerizing blue, circle you and Little Fox, inflicting minor flesh wounds to the men and women who can’t seem to get a fatal hit on either of you. “How are you doing this?!”

“You’ll see,” he says and you almost believe him. “Oh. Were you thinking I’d show you the trick? Maybe I should. You look like you’re inclined to trust my every word.”

“Hey, I’m not an idiot!”

“Then you’ll watch where you step.” He grabs your arm, pulling you closer to the floor before a bullet can graze your skin. Meanwhile, the cards work hard to sever the ammunition in two, rendering it inferior. You’ve never witnessed such an interesting force before. Whatever it is, you’re glad it’s working. “We should leave before their boss comes back with reinforcements.”

“Right!” Your hand locks with his, startling the blue-haired fox for a moment, and you make a run for the nearest opening, the cards lighting the way. You do your best to block out the shouting and loud gunshots of the boss’s underlings, pushing ahead even though your every nerve is riddled with fear. “How are we not dead? This is insane!”

Humoring you, he asks, “What if we are dead?” 

“Are we? We’re not, right?” You clear your throat as you continue to run, pulling him along. “Just to clarify, we’re not actually dead?”

Your words hang in the air for the entirety of your escape. It isn’t until you’re a safe distance away, hidden on the rooftop of another building and catching your breath, when he finally gives you an answer.

“Don’t worry. You’re alive. That crime syndicate won’t have anywhere to flee. As long as the others apprehend everyone.” There goes that gleaming deck again, practically floating between his skilled fingers as it’s shuffled for the umpteenth time. From your viewpoint, you can see the entire city as the sun begins its steady descent. The colors bathe the fox in a soothing light, making him seem less mysterious than he initially was. “More importantly, do you trust me enough to take my word as the truth?”

“Yeah. I mean, obviously! You saved me. If it weren’t for you and your party tricks, I wouldn’t have survived. So thank you for coming to my aid, card person.”

“Little Fox,” he corrects you. “Although I have another name.”

“Great. What is it? I’m (Name).”

“I’m not going to give out such personal information to someone I’ve only just met.”

“I guess it can’t be helped. You’re supposed to be undercover, right? Like a spy.”

“Maybe. Maybe not. It all depends on what you choose to believe.”

“Okay.” Awkwardly, you avoid his gaze. “So are you a magical spy? Is that what I witnessed back there?”

He merely shrugs and continues to shuffle. A card slips out, floating to the ground. You snatch it before it can make contact, turning it over in your hands to figure out how it was able to slice a bullet in half. You never knew a card could be so strong. 

“Which card did you pull?”

“I didn’t pull it. It fell out. But if you must know, it’s the ace of hearts.”

“Are you sure?”

“Of course I’m sure.” You look at the card once more, and its symbols change, reflecting the joker. “What? How? You did that on purpose!”

“It’s a possibility.”

“I’m not in the mood for card tricks. I was almost killed today!”

“Whose fault is that?”

“Mine...” You lower your head in shame. “This is the worst.”

“it’s only the worst because you’ve made it so. If you didn’t know, the ace used to mean bad luck. Now everyone sees it as a decent card.” Once again, the symbols have reverted to said design.

“I’m totally not an ace.”

“An ace wouldn’t blindly trust anyone when someone does them a favor.”

“That was a few times! I’m not going to do it again.” You huff, leaning closer to him. Curiously, you grab his mask, lifting it up to see his face. Golden eyes peer back at you, pupils dilated in silent shock. “Thanks again for saving me.”

“My services aren’t free,” he mutters softly, taken back by your sudden closeness.

“Oh!” You pull away, rummaging through your pockets for any spare change. “Right. Sorry, let me see what I’ve got.”

The fox deadpans, thinking to himself, They can’t be this trustful. There’s no way...

“I’ve got three euro coins. Will this be enough? Probably not, but it’s all I have at the moment. If you give me a few days, I can definitely pay you. I’ll even treat you to a pastry. Is that okay? If it’s not, you can name your price. I won’t—”

You’re cut off by his melodious laughter. Flinching, you stare at him, wondering what in the world could be so funny. “I was kidding.”

“What?! And here I was, ready to pay you for your hard work. I can still give you money, though. If that’s what you want!”

“No, I don’t need your money. Thanks, though. I’d advise you to take better care of your finances so you won’t get tricked again.”

“I should do that.”

“And you shouldn’t put your faith in just anyone.”

“Of course. I’ll do better.”

“And you can’t expect this to happen whenever you’re in a bind. I’m not a babysitter.”

“I... I know that.” Heat rises to your face, burning intensely as night falls upon you and your newfound savior. “You don’t have to scold me. I’m an adult just like you.”

“I would’ve thought you were a child, what with how gullible you are.”

“Very funny. That smile isn’t fooling anyone.”

“Hm? What do you mean?”

“I give up...”

------

Mori stares at the ace in his hand, glinting even when held against the stark, rainy backdrop of the window. He thinks of the peculiar person he met the other day. They could’ve been on death’s door, and then he stepped in, ensuring that that wouldn’t happen. It was a relief the Department chose to send him on the mission, as he knew how to look before blindly diving in. He’s learned many things in his past, all of which have been useful lessons in his present life. There’s a somber twinge to his thoughts as he reflects upon the one whom he currently misses. He flips the ace over once in an effort to distract himself from his master.

(Name) seemed like a fun person, albeit far too trusting when it came to a matter of survival. Mori knows better than to trust those around him. He won’t make the same mistake twice, so he can only hope that you will be smart in how you play your cards. Though he may never cross paths with you again and though fate has a cruel way of conjoining those who are opposites, he’s still impressed at your unwavering ability to follow anyone who so much as lends you a hand. How can anyone be like that? It must be a nightmare.

And yet it’s anything but a bad dream. You’re as real as he is, a huge contrast to his morals. While he regrets the fact that you’ve already seen his face—all prospects of anonymity gone—he can’t help the feeling of intrigue. Maybe it’s just misplaced, considering you’re one of the more interesting victims he’s seen during hectic missions. Regardless, he hopes you’ll be wise for the future.

Once again, the ace glitters back at him. Perhaps if you learn to fight your own battles, you might just become the unsuspecting ace in a deck of scrambled misfortunes. If anything turns sour, which is something Mori is more than accustomed to, he knows that money can be trusted far more than the thin wills of most people. Casting all thoughts of the master aside, he puts the ace back into the deck and shuffles.

The joker peeks out, a wild card that can be anything it wants if put to the test. Little Fox smiles a familiar smile. You’re an interesting card. Maybe your paths will intersect one day, and maybe they won’t. It’s not like he knows, nor does he trust that sort of intuition, but it’s nice to think about.

[bouwrites]

Even Heroes Have the Right to Dream: Chapter 9

I remember the first night that she went to find her little place inside this world.

First, Previous, Next. Ao3.

Story under read-more.

“So… that’s the box?”

Marinette nods, frowning down at the Miracle Box.

“It’s, uh…” Jon clears his throat awkwardly, “spherical.”

Marinette snickers. “Not what you were expecting?”

She watches Jon frown at the ladybug-spotted dome of the box. “Well, no…”

“It’s kind of ugly, isn’t it?”

“Yes! Thank God, you said it!” Jon sighs in what must be relief. “I didn’t want to, I don’t know, insult the kwami’s… home? I don’t know, is this thing sacred?”

Marinette giggles freely, enjoying his antics. “It’s fine. It’s not exactly subtle. Or cute. The old guardian, the one who chose me, when the box was his it was this really pretty ornamental puzzle box sort of thing. But then I get it and it’s… this.”

“It’s spherical!” Jon exclaims.

“Yeah, it’s not even a box anymore and I’m honestly not sure if we should, you know, keep calling it that. But what’s the alternative? The Miracle Orb?”

Jon bursts into a giggling fit at that. “Miracle Egg.” He says.

“Or just Egg.” Marinette laughs.

“It is an oblong spherical thing that holds living creatures, so…” Jon just keeps cackling, and Marinette laughs along with him. It’s ridiculous to even consider calling the Miracle Box, the vessel that holds over a dozen immortal gods, an egg, but that’s exactly why Marinette is short on breath and leaning on Jon for support. (Mostly, because the description isn’t wrong.)

“Anyway.” Marinette says when she calms down. “I’ve been thinking about what you said. About finding another way. It might not be… ideal, but I think I figured something out.”

“You did?” Jon watches her curiously. “And what’d you figure out?”

Marinette sighs and closes her eyes. “First, that you’re right. Passing the guardianship on to Chat Noir isn’t really an option. I don’t… Maybe it’s selfish, but I don’t want to forget. It’s too much of my life. I wouldn’t be the same person I am now if I did. And… despite how hard it is sometimes, I do like the person I am now.” She punches Jon’s shoulder gently. “Thanks for that, by the way.”

Jon grins cheekily. “For stopping you from forgetting, or for helping you like yourself?”

“Don’t give yourself too much credit.” Marinette teases. “But both. You’re a big reason why I’m happy giving up being a hero. I never would have accepted that I don’t have to be. I still haven’t completely, but if you weren’t here, then forgetting really would be my only option.” She sighs again, shaking her head. “Anyway. I was thinking about how to be guardian while still refusing to fight, and I’m honestly a little embarrassed I didn’t think of it sooner. The guardian before me did the same thing, though in his case it was because he was too old to fight.”

Jon looks between her and the box. “What are you going to do.”

“I’m giving up Tikki. Not completely, of course. She’ll still be in the box. But I still need a Miraculous to use if I have to, so instead of her, I’ll partner with Wayzz.”

Jon furrows his brow, but simply watches as Tikki and Wayzz both frown sadly at her. “Are you sure about this, Marinette? You’re such a wonderful Ladybug.” Tikki says.

“I’m sure, Tikki.” Marinette glances to Jon. “Wayzz is the turtle kwami of protection.”

“It is a pleasure to meet you.” Wayzz bows politely to Jon, who nods back.

“Did you see when Carapace was around?” Marinette asks.

“I did.” Jon says. “So, this is the Miraculous that he used?”

“Yes. It’s also the Miraculous that the guardian before me used. Its powers are all about shielding. Protection. I can use it, and keep myself and the Miraculous safe, all without breaking my promise of non-violence.”

Jon blinks dumbly. “You made a promise?”

“I am right now.” She says. “To you. We both want to leave that life behind us, and I turned my back on this once, so I’m promising you now. I won’t fight. Ever. If I ever have to again, I’ll find another way. I won’t abandon this life again. Or you.”

Jon worries his lip. His eyes are watery, but otherwise he just stares at her. “I promise, too.” He says eventually. “We’re in this together. No more fighting. No more heroes. There’s always another way.”

“A peaceful life.” Marinette says with a smile.

“A peaceful life.” He agrees. Then, he chuckles softly. “Normal was never possible, was it? But peaceful is. We know it is.”

Wayzz looks between the two of them for a moment and says, “Normal is a common misconception. Even people who are never touched by magic or heroism are all unique. Thus, a ‘normal life’ is entirely subjective, and says little about the actual contents of the life.”

“Heh. I see.” Jon says softly. “You’re the wise one.”

Wayzz laughs. “I try to be helpful.”

“Aha, well, I look forward to getting to know you, Wayzz.”

“And I, you.”

Marinette smiles at the two before turning her attention back to Tikki. “I’m sorry, Tikki.” She says. “I feel like I’m letting you down.”

“Never, Marinette.” Tikki zooms close to hug her cheek. “I understand. Wayzz is a good partner, and I’m glad you found something you care so much about. I’m proud of you, for making the decision to stand by what you believe in.”

And now Marinette is teary-eyed. “Thank you, Tikki. You’ve no idea how much that means to me.”

“Stay safe.” Tikki says. “Stay strong. I believe in you. Just do what you have to to be happy.”

“I will. I promise.”

Tikki drifts over to Jon to look him over sternly. “Take care of her.”

Jon purses his lips. “Duh. But you’re not going anywhere, though, right? Just into the Egg. You’ll be around to kick my butt if I do anything out of turn.”

Tikki giggles. “You’re right. I will. It’s just… sad. Marinette’s been my partner for many years now, and from the box I can’t always help her. I’m asking you to help her.”

“I already promised.” Jon says. “We’re in this together.”

Satisfied with that answer, Tikki nods and, with one last long look at Marinette, vanishes into the Miracle Box. Marinette carefully places the earrings inside, then checks the fastening of the bracelet around her wrist.

The air is tense, as if the very room can sense the significance of the moment. An exchange of Miraculous isn’t a small thing, especially when the ladybug Miraculous is involved. But Marinette puts a swift end to that tension with a decisive, clinical change of subject. “I don’t know about you,” She says to Jon, “but I am going to ace this semester.”

Jon chuckles. “I’m still hurting from that second semester, to be honest. But I’m with you. Can’t mess up my first semester in my new major.”

“We need to get into good habits again, like we did when we first got here.” Marinette says, standing to return to her desk and calendar. “And no more of this drama. I know this was my fault, but still.”

“Ugh, agreed.” Jon says. “We cannot do this every year. At least we figured it out in just a couple weeks this time. Not like last time.”

Marinette flinches. “Don’t remind me. That was my fault, too.”

“No, it wasn’t.” Jon says softly. “I would have done the same thing. That was just something we were inevitably going to have to deal with. I’m glad we got it out of the way so early. We’ve still got years to get everything put back together. And that’s only including college. Not to mention it would have hurt more if we’d kept the secret longer.”

“Good point.” She admits. “Still, I’m sorry I’ve caused so much trouble for you.”

“Don’t worry about it.” Jon waves her off. “Water under the bridge. It probably would have been simpler if I’d gotten some random normal roommate, but I’m still glad I got you.” He nudges her playfully. “You’re my friend.”

Marinette ducks her head, feeling her cheeks warm, but she doesn’t try to fight off the smile that stretches across her face.

“No, things have just been a bit hectic lately.” Marinette says into the phone. “I haven’t been giving myself enough time to study, so I’m playing catch up.” It’s not the whole truth, obviously, but she can’t tell even those closest to her about what’s been going on with Jon without his permission. He may not be Superboy anymore, but anyone who figures him out will be able to figure out Superman’s civilian identity and that could be disastrous. Not to mention, Marinette is sure that Jon doesn’t want the attention.

“Well, your education comes first.” Penny’s voice over the speaker says firmly. “But there’s some time before we’ll need everything. We know you’re in school, so we didn’t want to put any more on you than necessary. Do you think you can do the album cover, and then we can figure out later if you’ll have time to do the tour outfits?”

Marinette thinks for a moment. “That’ll work. I’ll be working off and on, since I don’t want to sacrifice study time, so keeping track of hours will be difficult. Will the flat rate work for you?”

“That’s fine. I’ll look around for other designers for the tour as a backup plan but let us know when you can if you think you’ll be able to make them for us.”

“I should have a good idea after midterms.” Marinette answers. “I’ll let you know once I do. Same NDA?”

“As always. I’ll send it now. You still want your identity secret, I assume?”

“For now, yes.”

Penny hums softly for a moment. “You know it would help your career if you’d let Jagged rave about you.”

“I know.” Marinette says quickly. “I’m… I think the pseudonym has served its purpose. It’s getting close to time to drop it, but… not yet. Oh! But, about the NDA, I do have a roommate. If I do have time to make those outfits, I’ll have to do it in my apartment. My roommate will see, though. It’s not a big deal, he won’t tell anyone, but I still thought you should know.”

“Ah, yes, I remember you mentioned a roommate. Let’s see… you can keep the album cover hidden, and we’ll announce the album quickly once we get that from you. So, by then, the NDA is largely finished anyway. On your end, though…”

“Don’t worry, I don’t mind him knowing. As I said, I’m thinking about announcing my name anyway.”

“If you’re sure. We could rent you a studio to work on them privately.”

“There’s no need for that.” Marinette says. “Jon can keep a secret. And you already pay me enough, you don’t need to rent a studio for me, too.”

“Money isn’t an issue, Marinette.” Penny says gently. “But ultimately it’s your decision. If you’re sure.”

“I am. Besides, we’re not even sure yet that I’ll be able to take the job.”

“Of course.” Penny says. “I have to go. Let me know about your schedule. And you know we’re here for you if you need anything.”

“I know, Penny. Thank you. And thanks again for commissioning me.”

Penny chuckles. “You know you’re the only designer rock and roll enough for Jagged.”

Marinette pulls the phone from her ear and immediately checks her email. Naturally, she already has the email she’s looking for. Jagged Stone and Marinette (and Penny) have worked together enough now that this is all fairly normal. Marinette skims through the NDA, just to confirm it’s the same as always (she trusts Penny, of course, but one can never be too careful with contracts) and signs it electronically and sends it back to Penny.

Just a few minutes later, Marinette receives all the information she’ll need to make the album cover. Jagged Stone’s concept, sample files of the music, all the drier organizational stuff that, most importantly, gives her a general deadline. Jagged is generous with information, since Marinette is under NDA anyway and he’s very passionate about everything being “rock and roll” enough.

Marinette is very lucky to have met him, despite the occasional trouble he causes. Once she lets him announce that she’s his designer, there’ll be a lot more trouble, too, but it will jumpstart her career.

Marinette sighs, making sure her headphones are in before clicking through the sample sound files. While it’s true that her reasoning for hiding her identity has essentially become obsolete, that doesn’t mean she’s eager for all the buzz that will surely appear when Jagged announces the name of the designer some people are raving to know about.

When she was Ladybug, too much personal fame as Marinette could be compromising. Adrien is in the same position, of course, but he was raised in fame. He’s used to it and knows how to navigate it. When Marinette designed those glasses and that first album cover for Jagged and everyone knew about her, a girl so young designing anything for an artist like Jagged Stone, she had her own moment of fame. Not to mention everything she watches Adrien go through, or, on occasion, goes through with him. That attention frightens her, it makes her nervous, and when she gets nervous, she’s more likely to slip up.

Plus, she was only a child. She didn’t need that kind of attention at that age. Not on top of Ladybug and, later, being Adrien Agreste’s girlfriend.

But there is no more Ladybug. Marinette is just a normal, adult girl in university. If she wants to get her name out as a big designer, there’s no danger in it. The idea is appealing. After all, what designer doesn’t want their brand to be recognized? Still, old habits die hard. As appealing as it is, it also makes her nervous. Part of her wants to wait until she’s finished with university, another part is calling that part a coward.

She doesn’t need to decide quite yet, though. For now, she has an album cover to design. As always, she does the best she can. As always, she feels that doubt that she’ll live up to expectations. But also, as always, Jagged adores the final design.

Marinette sighs in relief.

She doesn’t take time away from studying to make the album cover. She works on it during breaks and between classes while she’s just hanging around the university. It’s just a drawing, too, so once she gets the design solidified, most of her time spent on it is getting it to a state where it’s presentable. It’s still a time-consuming process, but it’s something she can pick up and work on for a few minutes here and there, rather than devoting entire evenings to.

That said, once she’s finished with it and it’s sent off to Penny and Jagged, Marinette redoubles her focus on her studies. The possibility of designing for Jagged’s next tour is too great an opportunity to pass up, so she has to be organized, be ready, and blow her midterms away.

She won’t be that girl that overworks herself committing too much to others at the sacrifice of her own well-being anymore. That was Ladybug Marinette. Jon told her not to sacrifice herself, and this qualifies, too. If she’s not up to snuff on the midterms, she will turn down the commission. Jagged understands, as does Penny. There will be more opportunities. Heck, there’s the retroactive opportunity whenever he announces that she designed his last few notable outfits. But if she messes up university, that’s not so easily made up, and she’s already butchered one semester with drama.

Her priorities are in order, and for what seems like the first time in a long while she’s happy with them, so she studies. She finds her routine. Classes in the morning, with some time between them out and about for lunch or to talk to friends, then she comes home in the evening, writes down all her assignments on her whiteboard, and starts checking them off one by one.

Jon makes dinner on Monday, Wednesday, and Friday, because his classes let out earlier than hers do, but her Tuesday and Thursday are less crowded than his, so she takes dinner duty then, giving him a little extra time to do homework and study as well. They eat together every evening and use the time to chat and forget about studies for an hour or two. It works for them, based on their schedules this semester. Next semester they’ll have to reorganize, but that’s just fine with them. That’s just the way things are in university.

Most days, Marinette doesn’t have much to do after dinner. Since she’s not behind on her work anymore, she gets everything done by the time dinner is ready, so she either studies if she needs to, or relaxes, plays video games, designs if she feels like it. (And if she sketches out some designs for Jagged’s tour, then that’s just less work for her to do after she aces the midterms and takes the commission.) More than a few times, she and Jon have a movie night just because they’re both feeling good about what they’re doing and want to take that small moment to celebrate themselves. Sometimes, it’s nothing so fancy as that, and they’re just watching the television and the other comes in and joins them for no reason at all.

“By the way,” Marinette says suddenly, drawing Jon’s lazy attention. “Did your friends ever get together? David and Tamias?”

Jon shakes his head with a smile on his lips. “No. They’re still pining.”

“Gross.”

“Tell me about it.”

Marinette giggles. “Honestly, that whole situation is freaky to me. It makes me have flashbacks to collège.”

“Pfft. Your friends did the same thing to you, right?”

She groans. “Yes. I had the dumbest crush on Adrien, and Alya was always trying to set us up.”

“Is the crush really that dumb if you ended up dating him?” Jon asks.

“You did not know me during the crush phase.” Marinette says. “It was really dumb. Thank god I’m older and wiser now. It does make watching grown men do the same thing a little surreal, though.”

Jon snickers. “You should tell David that. Maybe you’ll embarrass him enough to square up.”

“Oh, I’m sure he’s doing his best. I’m not going to make it harder on him.”

Jon hums. “In his defense, things tend to catch on fire around David. Once, I kid you not, he accidentally set his homework on fire from the sun going through his glasses.”

“He what? You’re joking.”

“I swear. I was there. It was stupid and hilarious, and it ruined a perfectly good opportunity for him to tell Tamias how he feels, so I kind of can’t blame him for messing it up all the time.”

“And things like that happen all the time?”

Jon nods. “Oh, yeah. It’s like he’s clumsy, but instead of tripping and dropping stuff, things catch on fire or explode. It’s kind of weird how often that happens to him. Frankly, I’m a little surprised he’s alive.”

Marinette shivers at the thought. “Keep him away from FIT, will you? We do not want a fire around all those textiles.”

“Oh, yikes. Yeah, he’s never invited to your school, ever.” Jon chuckles. “Speaking of, though, how’s midterm prep coming?”

“Good as it can, I think.” Marinette says. “You?”

He groans. “Good as it can, I suppose.”

Marinette giggles at his tone. “That’s not very reassuring.”

“Listen, I’m taking an evolution class.” Jon whines. “Like, biology. It’s hard!”

“I know. But you’re a smart man. You’ve got this.”

Jon smiles good-naturedly and fixes Marinette with a look in his eyes that tells Marinette he appreciates the sentiment more than he lets on. “I’ll do my best.” He says.

Technically speaking, Marinette should rent a studio to make Jagged’s tour outfits in. She’s essentially making a small, Jagged Stone-themed collection, after all, and her apartment is not really that big. Not to mention, she’s basically prohibited from bringing guests over for secrecy’s sake. Not that Jon and she often bring guests over. They have university friends, of course, Jon more than her, but bringing them back to the apartment is rare.

But Marinette likes her apartment. And she has Jon to remind her to eat here. She can’t really help when she gets into the zone, so having someone who will remind her to take care of herself will keep her productive longer. She still hasn’t quite mastered doing it herself.

That said, Jon is living here, too, and Marinette doesn’t want to inconvenience him too much with her project. That’s why she plans everything out. It feels good to do so. She’s usually organized these days, in fact she has always been an organized person, despite often losing control of it, so having a plan of attack on this big commission is a relief when she still needs to keep up with her studies.

She doesn’t plan to finish before summer, but Jagged doesn’t need the outfits until late summer, so she’ll have time when she gets back to Paris. That said, her friends who can’t see her except over the phone for most of the year will definitely be vying for her attention, so she wants to get as much done here in New York as possible.

So, if she gets all the bases done here, she can focus on the detail work in Paris. It means all her patterning and cutting will be here, which is, annoyingly, the most time-consuming and space-consuming parts of the project, but it also means that she’ll be in a very good position once summer starts. And if she can keep on top of her schoolwork, she should have most evenings fairly free to work on it, even if it’s only an hour or two a day. That’ll add up. She just has to be organized and dedicated.

She can do this. And the first item on the list is fabric shopping. This is also the most dangerous item on the list. Even in the same store there’s no guarantee she’ll find the same fabric again if she goes back later, but the odds of finding the right fabric an ocean away? Not likely. Marinette is sure she’ll go shopping in Paris, but she plans to gather all of the essentials here.

“Hey, Jon?” Marinette says during dinner on Friday. “I’ve got a new commission, and it’s sort of a big project. I’m going to be needing to use the apartment for it. I’ll try to keep out of your way, but it’ll probably get annoying.”

Jon tilts his head cutely. “Don’t you usually do big projects over at your school?” He asks. “I’m not complaining – it’s fine – but why’re you doing this one here?”

Marinette sighs. “Because it’s a high-profile client, and technically, no one knows I work for him.”

Jon blinks, then leans forward in his seat. “Oh? This sounds interesting.”

“It’s no big deal.” Marinette says. “I had a lucky opportunity a long time ago, and he likes my style, so he keeps hiring me. But since I was barely fifteen when all that started, and I was worried about attention outing me as Ladybug, I asked him not to announce who was designing for him.”

“Ah.” Jon nods. “That makes sense. Who’s this celebrity you work for, then?”

“Jagged Stone.”

“Jagged- woah.” Jon’s jaw drops to the floor. “You’ve been working for him since you were fifteen?”

“Mhmm.” Marinette chuckles at his awe. “Nothing as big as this, of course. I did some accessories for him, and an album cover way back when. Since then I’ve been doing the occasional outfit or artwork, but now he’s asking me to do almost all of his performance outfits for his next tour. He’s been hiring me more and more as I get older. I guess he thinks I’m ready for this now.”

Jon stares dumbfounded at her. “Have told you how cool you are? Because wow. Okay. You’re a designer for a major rock artist. No big deal, right?”

Marinette rolls her eyes at his sarcasm. “As I said, I was fifteen. Believe me, I freaked out more than enough. He’s basically my weird uncle these days, so it really isn’t that big of a deal anymore.”

“It’s Jagged Stone.” Jon protests. “Come on!”

Marinette stares him down. “Really, son of Superman?”

Jon flushes and ducks his head quickly. “Ah- right, yeah. Good point.”

“Anyway, keeping me hidden served its purpose. Not that I’m not Ladybug anymore, or a teenager, I think I’m going to tell him to go crazy. So, this will probably be the last thing I do for him that I have to be so secretive about. But I’d appreciate it all the same if you don’t go talking about it yet. Jagged hasn’t announced the tour yet, so technically speaking I’m breaking NDA just telling you about it.”

“No worries. My lips are sealed.” Jon pretends to zip up his lips and toss the key over his shoulder.

“Good.” Marinette giggles. “Will you come fabric shopping with me tomorrow? Fair warning, you’re going to be carrying my bags. There will be a lot of bags.” Marinette smirks for a moment, then tacks on, “Hopefully.”

“Sounds like fun.” Jon says. “I’m in. You know, thinking about it, this might be the first chance I’ve gotten to see your whole process. From start to finish, I mean.”

Marinette laughs. “Not quite. There’s no way I’m finishing everything before summer. Not while staying on top of class. But that’s good. You won’t see the finished product until the reveal.”

Jon pouts a little, but his smile ruins it. “Fine. Be that way. Just remember me as your pack horse when you’re famous, will you?”

Marinette snorts. “Oh, Jon. You know you’re so much more valuable than a pack horse.” She playfully boops his nose with a finger as she rises to take her dish to the sink. She laughs as Jon turns entertainingly red.

With so much work to do, the rest of the semester flies by in a flash. Marinette has some detail work to hand sew that occupies her on the plane, and then she’s desperately trying to schedule time to work on the outfits while her friends are all dragging her around Paris.

It works out. She ends up having most of the summer to work on the outfits, so there’s no real rush.

She also has time to think about her decision. Keeping Jagged Stone’s designer secret stirs up more interest because of the intrigue of it all, but luckily, it’s been a few years since all that. There’s no good reason to stay hidden, especially considering she’s now working towards her dream of being a designer in earnest, rather than split between that and Ladybug.

It’s still frightening, but Marinette doesn’t let fear control her. She’s a normal girl. A normal woman. As normal as anyone is ever normal. Her quirks just happen to include a colorful past and some magic creatures living with her rather than the more average personality quirk. That’s all. She’s going to have a peaceful life.

She still screams to keep that armor up, though. To stay hidden and safe, where scrutiny can’t directly target her. Where her work is judged for its own merits or flaws rather than because of her name. Revealing herself makes her vulnerable, and what seems like a lifetime of caution has trained her to avoid this at all costs.

It’s a good idea, though. It’s time. Marinette will make the life she wants, and that life includes getting credit for her work. Fame is unnecessary, though it will be flattering if it comes, but she refuses to let people speculate and attribute her work to someone else. And she refuses to hide.

That’s why, with shaky hands and trembling breath, she tells Jagged after he accepts the outfits that he’s free to mention her now, if he wants. She’s twenty-one now and preparing for her career after university. It’s easy to say that’s why she stayed hidden so long up until this point, and why now for revealing her. Jagged knows more than just that, but that’s what he’ll tell everyone, because the truth is long and complicated and more convoluted than even Jagged knows.

Marinette sits alone in the dark in her room when Jagged announces the tour. It starts in a few months, during Autumn, and he’ll be in New York in November. I should get tickets. Marinette thinks, investigating the location. I can go with Jon. I think that’s the week before Thanksgiving, but I should ask to be sure. Jon always goes home for Thanksgiving. The concert is scheduled for Saturday, and with his powers it should be possible either way, but Marinette doesn’t want to ask him to fly around just to catch a concert with her.

I should also make sure Penny isn’t already booking us tickets.

Promptly as ever, Jagged’s first statements about the new album and tour start coming out barely minutes after the announcement. A lot of it is just generating hype, and most of the rest is praising everyone who is working to ensure the tour is going to happen. The entire team that ordinarily doesn’t see the spotlight is highlighted one by one, and Marinette is one of the first.

Designer of the most recent album’s cover art, as well as many of the tour outfits everyone will see in just a few months. Designer of his looks at the past several big-name events. All-around wonderful little lady who has been like a niece to him for years now. Jagged really spares no compliment.

It doesn’t take long before her phone starts exploding from all the notifications. A lot of her old friends, the ones in Paris, already know about her working for Jagged Stone, but no one in New York except Jon does. So she gets congratulations from those that know, shock and awe and, in an odd case, outrage, from those that don’t, all mixing into the sea of social media notifications of all of her accounts suddenly being flooded with traffic at once.

It’s all a little overwhelming. But it’s not bad. And it’s nothing she’s wholly unfamiliar with. She has a bad feeling in her gut, because she doesn’t know every way her life will change and how it won’t because of this, but she calls Alya and stays on the phone with her for a long while until, eventually, she feels ready to take on the last of the summer.

Marinette laughs as photos of old work she’s done for Jagged resurfaces, now with her name to tag onto. She confirms the work she really has done for him, but otherwise takes the rest of the summer to try to stay off of social media. She doesn’t need to worry about that right now. Instead, she turns her mind to something rather more important. Something so obvious, that somehow slipped her mind until now.

As she wonders about Jagged’s November concert and Jon’s Thanksgiving with his family, Marinette realizes that they’ve known each other for two years and never once celebrated Christmas! Obviously, they’re both home for Christmas, so they can’t celebrate the holiday itself, but that’s no reason that they shouldn’t do anything. And now that she thinks about it, Jon’s birthday is in the second semester and they haven’t really done anything special for that, either.

With her commission for Jagged Stone done, Marinette has space for a new project lined up, as well as a lot of extra cash. She thinks it’s about time she starts thinking on her next project.

——-=——-

Tag List: @moonystars14 @pawsitivelymiraculous @magic-miraculous @vixen-uchiha @buticaaba @bigpicklebananatree @lozzybowe  @moonlightstar64 @amayakans @theatreandcomicfreak​  @toodaloo-kangaroo​ @too0bsessedformyowngood​  <3

[noboo98]

http://www.madamepickwickartblog.com/2011/08/smile-happy-days-were-once-again/

THIS logo was used on a very popular little (3/4″) button that was a very trendy item worn in the punk scene in seattle. it gradually was lifted and used on a tshirt for the band nirvana, around the time of the release of their record ‘bleach’. i remember watching lisa orth paste it together in the production room at the rocket, where she had just quit as the art director. i’m not sure who picked the image – the band or lisa. i’m not even sure whether they altered the image or not. but, it was classic ‘sub pop’ marketing move of the time – appropriate an interesting piece of local weirdness and then exploit the hell out of it. that image became synonymous with nirvana and was a huge hit . they probably sold a million of those tshirts alone. who knows what else it was used on. AC:...haven't really looked at that nirvana logo in over a decade or more. i remember discussion about using the logo straight across and the risk of lawsuit. so, lisa may have altered it to avoid that. but the lusty lady logo was the idea. that's undeniably the case. i was there. the result is that most people around the world think of this blissed-out happy face as the ‘nirvana’ logo. go figger. in reality it was a promotional branding icon thingie used to promote the notorious ‘lusty lady’ strip club on seattle’s first avenue. every cool punky hipster in seattle wore one of these things as a sort of ironic joke. the popular story of the lusty lady is as peculiar as their logo’s morph into pop celebrity. as the story goes, the place existed as an act of defiance by the owner of the building (situated directly across the street from the glamorous new robert venturi-designed seattle art museum main entrance). in an attempt to expand the area into a yuppie upscale fern bar sort of neighborhood the city supposedly attempted to use “emminent domian” laws to acquire the building (condmnation) for development. the owner fought them hand and foot and eventually won. so the story goes, the landlord, in an act of apparent retaliation, began to rent out the space in the building to the sleaziest worst tenants he could find. the basement was rented to the First Avenue Service Center – that charity who tended the needs of the street homeless with food, medical, counceling and even shelter. the main first avenue street level was leased to the lusty lady ‘exotic private dance’ club (aka – strip joint front for everything imaginable). the top stories were apparently left vacant and were notorious ‘shooting galleries.” so, the building was a huge festering eyesore int he middle of the seattle power structure’s attempt to railroad the downtown into microyuppiedom. the lusty lady maintained this attitude for years by boldly placing clever off-color slogans and jokes on their reader boards poking their filthy finger into the eye of the seattle art/downtown/political power structure. (i wish i could remember some of them, but they were so wink wink naughty naughty that they often get displayed in the local news. anybody out there remember any of the slogans?) this button (later nirvana logo) was just one of their many many PR campaigns to stay as public and visible as possible in the battle against the city. everybody loved it! in fact, when the lusty lady announced they were finally closing down (after a couple of decades of this) the entire city seemed to mourn the loss. but, the lusty lady also has another rather sordid chapter to add in the unwritten history of seattle underground culture. for one thing, the lusty lady seemed to maintain a lot of goodwill among the hipster bohemian community because it was ‘women owned’. all that means in my book is that there was a female face on the front of the power structure – a “front” for much darker ownership. but, the hipsters thought that it meant it was some feminist defiant re-interpretation of ‘the oldest profession’. so, it became a badge of honor to actually dance there (believe it or not). many women in the scene proudly let i be known that’s where they worked. everybody was usually dully impressed. one seattle documentarian photographer even did a well-received book about the club that resulted in an exhibit inside the seattle art museum itself (the across the street enemy of the club). many of the ‘girls’ working there behind the scenes and the ‘art of erotic dancing’ became synonymous with ‘outsider’ art (or something.) at any rate, the result was a sort of “acceptance’ of the lusty lady as a sort of ‘outsider art palace.” pretty strange. but it was thought of as as ‘cool’, where every other dance club in town was ‘sleazy.’ the truth was, that the place (like most of these places) was a front for extensive prostitution and drug-abuse lifestyles. it was as bad (or maybe even worse) than any strip club. turning tricks was the unspoken part of the duties there. ‘wom wned’ and ‘art museumed’ or not, it was the same old shit. so it goes. the other little dirty secret of the seattle rock scene is that many of the bands (some of whom went on to stardom) were supported by girlfriends who “danced” there. it was so common to have a girlfriend dancing at the lusty lady associated with a band and financially helping to support them that it was almost a standard accessory. hooker money helped feed and house and clothe man many ‘grunge rockers’ over the years. without the girlfriends’ selling their bodies, the rock stars boyfriends would have had to get jobs and sacrifice their futures (as they hopefully imagined them). so, the loving gal pals hit the streets to support the rock star redemption fantasies that kept them going in the form of their personal rock god boyfriend. it’s a sad dirty little ignored fact that never seems to make it into the pop history books. most of those rock stars never were, they never made it. most of those girl friends became professional sex workers for their entire short lives. most of those dreams of salvation never materialized. the bottom line is that every time time i see that nirvana tshirt with that blissed-out happy face logo, i think about those pathetic little girls turning tricks to keep their rock star boy friends in cigarettes and beer. i think of the amazing amount of damage the rocknroll fantasy has done to everybody. sometimes i think poor little curt did, too. ADDENDUM: AC:i remember back in the mid-80’s, interviewing a guy while i was working on that old “instant litter ‘ book i did about seattle punk posters. this guy was a fixture as a manager of several dozen rock bands over the years. the whole time i interviewed him, there were rock stars hanging out around his house and these beautiful scantily clad young women cruising about. he kept interrupting the interview – which consisted primarily of me holding a poster and asking, “who did this?” and him answering, oh, i dod that. turns out, he never designed a poster in his life. – to answer this portable phone (it was a briefcase phone, no less! just like maxwell smart.) he’d mumble into the phone and he’d point at a girl and give her a slip of paper and she’d leave. he was running an ‘escort’ service to support all the bands. i guess the ‘guys’ got ‘bennies’, too. apparently, eh was also the first local pimp to utilize early computer online services to run hi biz, too. he’d get busted and the cops would take his portable phone and his computer and then try to find names. they couldn’t because they had no idea how the internet worked. the pimp would just get a new phone, contact his server and be back in biz. it took the cops a few years to figure out his game. i guess he went tot the big house,eventually. all those bands collapsed in flames. so, this was not a new phenom in the scene. it may be a part of every rock scene that ever existed. there would be a greta book about this stuff you could write…. Related Posts in the name of love… some kind of wonderful? history is written by the whiners This entry was posted in Feature Article, Ideas/Opinion, Marketing/Advertising/Media, Modern Arts/Craft and tagged art chantry, Courtney Love, Curt Cobain, lisa orth, lusty lady, lusty lady seattle, Nirvana, nirvana bleach. Bookmark the permalink.

[emybain]

Iconic Day in Press History

I saw a post last night before going to bed about nova and Adrian getting engaged (I cant remember the post for the life of me but I know the topic has been discussed before so) and the wheels in my head started turning while I was trying to sleep, so I told myself I would write it first thing in the morning. I get the vibes that if nodrian decided to get married after Supernova, they would take their sweet time and not care that the press and the media were on their knees begging for the “power couple of the world” to tie the knot. Nova especially would enjoy messing with the paparazzi just bc she hates all the attention and would eventually just be like “fine. if you take pictures of me then they’ll be what I want them to be” and do a lot of things out of spite, such as her and adrian getting engaged. plus, they wouldn’t tell anyone other than their friends and family bc its a private matter, leaving the media scrambling for answers. anyway, yeah this is bad and rushed, but I dont really care; hopefully yall get the point *peace sign*

SPOILERS FOR SUPERNOVA

SPOILERS FOR SUPERNOVA

SPOILERS FOR SUPERNOVA

    The most memorable day in press history around the world was when Captain Chromium and the Dread Warden, two members of the famed Renegades, announced their marriage to the public. Despite the world being in a global Age of Anarchy, the marriage promised hope for the future and gave many people courage. Right behind it, the second most memorable day was when the couple announced they were adopting the son of the late Lady Indomitable, Adrian Rawles, soon to be Adrian Everhart. The world was touched by this act, seeing that it proved coming together and helping one another in dark times was better than the Anarchist ideology of acting selfishly.

    Despite the significance of these events, they were both knocked down nearly twenty years after the end of the Age of Anarchy when it was discovered that none other than Adrian Everhart, former Renegade, and Nova Artino, former Anarchist-turned-hero, were engaged to be married. 

    The press had a field day, to say the least. For years, they had hounded Gatlon’s, and the world’s, for that matter, power couple about tying the knot. Their union would be a symbolic event in the history of the world; it would be further proof that love conquered all hate. But, the couple seemed unbothered by the media’s many futile attempts at getting one to propose to the other. Every year, there was always a tabloid declaring the two had finally gotten engaged, even going as far as including a heavily photoshopped image of the two posed together, a gleaming ring on Miss Artino’s finger. Other tabloids wailed their desires for them to be wedded, fantasizing how the wedding would be and what the bride would wear on her special day. Four years before, they had watched as two other heroes and friends of the couple, Oscar Silva and Ruby Tucker, walked down the aisle together. They had hoped this wedding would have a domino effect, pushing couples around the world to do the same, especially one of the couples closest to the husband and wife. While there was a global spike in weddings that year, the one wedding everyone had been anticipating never happened. 

    Despite these attempts, the Everhart-Artino duo never announced they were getting married. Maybe they had already tied the knot in secret; the tabloids discussed this as a possibility for some time. Maybe they were only staying together for the public image and they really couldn’t stand one another; this was also speculated, but it was scoffed at by readers because there was no way it could be true. Everyone had seen the couple together, and not even the best actors in the world could convey that much love and affection for another person and it not be real. They were an inseparable match, made by the universe specifically for one another. They gave some the idea that soulmates did in fact exist. There was no doubt that they were in love, and that they would be in love for as long as they both lived. 

    So when, the press questioned, was the wedding?

    When the young Everhart turned twenty-five, and then Artino twenty-four, the press finally gave up all attempts at getting the couple to wed. They came to the conclusion that the couple, at this point, was not getting married out of spite to everyone pressuring them into it. It wouldn’t surprise the press if that were true; many headliners from the past were of the couple being silly or messing with the media. One time, Nova Artino had jokingly flipped off a group of photographers while she was at lunch with her boyfriend, scrunching her face up until it was comical. Another time, she showed off a ring-less finger to the paparazzi as the couple was out for a stroll, faking a shocked face. And once, the couple posed with a magazine that had their faces on the cover, the headlining statement “GATLON’S SWEETHEARTS BROKEN UP?” and made goofy faces at the photographer that captured them. Eventually, the press took the hint and stopped all talk about their marriage. 

    At least until Nova Artino, now twenty-five, was seen out and about on her motorcycle with her close friend Danna Bell. The paparazzi treated it as another normal occurrence and started photographing them for the media outlets. All was well until Artino removed her gloves, showing off a jewel on her left ring finger that was most certainly new. The media hadn’t heard much from the power couple in a while, so seeing this sent a shockwave through every outlet around the world as photos soon circulated of the ring and what it could mean for the young individuals. 

    The press revived their anticipation at a potential wedding of the century; every tabloid had the ring on its cover; it was all the TV show that reported the latest celebrity gossip could talk about. There were skeptics, as there always were, who believed the ring was just another photoshopped image. They claimed the ring wasn’t big enough, that people with as much money as the Everharts didn’t purchase small rings. The fact that Artino wasn’t seen after that for weeks further strengthened the doubt that the media was right. 

    And then there was the annual Peace Gala, which became a tradition after the final defeat of Ace Anarchy. It was held every year to prove that the world had finally stopped fighting, that love is the greatest asset to have, and that hate has no place in the recovering world. It was always hosted by a high elected official, for after Ace Anarchy was defeated, the Renegades stepped down from power and implemented a democratic system of government. This year, it was held by the mayor of Gatlon. While mayor wasn’t a high seat in government, it was decided upon so that the gala may be held in Gatlon for the first time. 

It was no small event; elected officials from around the world and well known names were invited, and it was open to the public. Full of food, music, dancing, and even fireworks, it was something people looked forward to every year. This year, perhaps more than others, for Nova Artino and Adrian Everhart were expected to be in attendance, and it would be the first time anyone would see the two since Nova’s appearance weeks prior. 

So when the couple showed up, along with Everhart’s family and fellow heroes, the press nearly went wild. Sure, there would be articles about the elegant red cocktail dress Ruby Silva wore, as well as the matching red suit worn by her husband. There would be designers doting over the butterfly-inspired dress worn by Danna Bell, and even more people doting over the looks between her and her long time girlfriend, Narcissa Cronin. Journalists would write about the suspected new romance between Gatlon’s latest heartthrob and hero, Max Everhart and his friend Margaret White. But every newspaper, every magazine, every media outlet around the world would be headlining the modest band wrapped around Nova Artino’s left ring finger. Photographs would all be zoomed in on her hand curled around her fiancé’s arm. 

But perhaps the best photo taken from that night would not be of the ring or of the couple kissing. No, the photo that everyone talked about and laughed at was of Nova Artino, peering over her shoulder at the lucky photographer’s camera from where she was dancing with her soon-to-be-husband. From the backless jumpsuit to the way her short hair was curled to perfection, and to the laughter in her eyes and a tiny, but smug smirk on her lips as if she were saying, “You don’t know shit,” there wasn’t a thing about the photo that the world didn’t love. 

Yes, the engagement of Nova Artino and Adrian Everhart, the universal sweethearts, was perhaps the biggest moment in press history.

[cryoculus]

Lunaris [4/11]

Navigation

Chapter Title: Waxing Gibbous Pairing: Yokai!Akaashi Keiji/Reader Word Count: 3,021

***

“Oi, are you even listening?"

The feeling of someone jostling you by the shoulder was enough to zap you back into consciousness. You blinked in nonplus for a few seconds before remembering that, ah, the coach was talking to the team. The track meet was scheduled in a few weeks. Itsumi was staring at you like you were a specimen from another dimension.

"If Coach Yamamoto catches you sneaking in some Z's while he's talking, I bet he won't let even you off the hook," she reminded, concern lacing her tone. "Seriously, (Name). What've you been doing lately? You've been out of it since Monday. Are you sure you didn't get a concussion?"

The accusation earned her a light smack on the leg as you shifted your sitting position on the grounds. The sun had long sunken into the horizon, and the only available illumination were the lamp posts scattered around the oval. Coach Yamamoto was standing underneath one of them as he gave Fukurodani's track team a much needed pep-talk before the hellish training regimen began. 

"Third years, if you're still pursuing track in college, you best give it your all next week," he imposed, voice gruff with flaky encouragement. "Collegiate level competitions don't have room for athletes with subpar records. That reminds me..."

And you felt your eyelids drooping again, each word the coach was saying sounding farther and farther away, until you heard nothing at all.

***

"I didn't expect you to come."

Akaashi stood by the entrance to the cemetery, still wearing his training clothes as he brandished you with a disconcerted look. You frowned. He was the one who told you to meet him here, yet it was like he seemed disappointed that you showed up.

"There's a yokai wandering around the shrine's designated territory, of course I'd be concerned," you huffed, tugging on the hem of your sweater. It was colder out tonight, and you felt somewhat more safe if Akaashi didn't directly look at the charm on your wrist. 

The demon stared at you, as if expecting something more. "Hm? If you really were alarmed by my existence, wouldn't you have told your grandmother already? Or any of the monks, at least?" 

His retort made you swallow the lump in your throat. Were yokai naturally adept with appraising the ulterior motives of humans? But why would you even think that you could  one-up a demon, of all creatures? You sighed, realizing the futility of keeping up appearances as you cleared your throat uneasily. 

"There's a couple of benches near the cliffside," you told him, gaze shying away from his blue-eyed stare. "I'd like to...know more about you." 

Akaashi breathed out a soft laugh, amusement painting itself on his face. "A human whose first instinct isn't to kill a yokai? Or at least run from it? You really are something else." 

"Is that a good thing or a bad thing?" 

As the two of you made your way past the run-down cemetery, you watched the way moonlight drew forth the sharp angles of Akaashi's face. You wondered if he'd only stolen the identity of another human, or if he really did look like that in his true form. Nonetheless, he had flawless taste for his disguises, that's for sure. Right now, you didn't feel the warning pulse of the charm on your wrist. He must have toned down his presence to pass as human. 

"It depends on who's asking, really," he said as the two of you settled on the crumbling stone benches nestled between two faded gravestones. You muttered a quiet apology for the intrusion, hoping whoever was buried underneath wouldn't mind a yokai trespassing on their final resting place. 

"So," you began, eyes trained on the overcast sky above. No stars were out tonight, nor did Tsukuyomi take a peek at the land below. "What's your deal? Why aren't you going on a killing spree like yokai usually do when they're smart enough not to get caught by the monks."

He groaned, scratching the back of his neck awkwardly. "Do me a favor and don't compare me to fledgelings like those. If we live long enough, carnage eventually bores even the worst of us."

You nodded in understanding, taking each word to heart. There was something soothing about his voice—like it could lull you to sleep if you weren't careful. 

This is how idiots get killed in horror movies, you reminded yourself. Villains were supposed to make you let your guard down so they could take you out when you're most vulnerable.

But for some reason, the word villain didn't quite suit Akaashi. Not because he wore the face of a meek-looking human. No, it was more of a gut feeling. Your grandmother did tell you to trust your gut when all was lost. 

"Where do you live?" you asked him. "Here? On top of the hill?" 

He shook his head, resting his palms on his knees. "I'm staying with a human family who thinks they have a son." When you shot him a pensive stare, he gave you a tight-lipped smile as he backtracked with, "No harm will come to them, I promise." 

You knew that you shouldn't take his word for it, but still, your shoulders relaxed with the assurance. "What are you doing here, then?"

"I told you," he said, stretching out his long limbs as he stared upward. "The moon shines brightest here."

His words didn't hold the same impact as they would have if the sky was clear tonight. You gazed up to the heavens, where clouds still obscured the wonderful view behind it. If you asked what's so special about the place where the moon shines brightest, you already knew he was only going to give you the vaguest of answers. 

"You're still avoiding the million dollar question, though," you sighed, shifting in your seat as you gazed at the city of Tokyo from your generous vantage point.

"You did ask me a lot of those," Akaashi pointed out. "Which one do I answer first? Who am I? Why don't I have a heart? Or what's my deal? Pick wisely. I think I'm in the mood to answer only one."

Huh. It seemed that some yokai have a sense of humor after all. A soft laugh rumbled in your chest as you mindlessly kicked away a pebble on the ground, having made up your mind before he even asked.

"...Why don't you have a heart?"

The silence that settled between the both of you rang in your ears. Akaashi's eyes flashed with an emotion you couldn't quite identify as he heaved a long breath. It took him a moment to respond. You were about to tell him that he didn't have to answer but he beat you to it when he told you:

"Simple. A human stole it from me." 

***

"Is there something you're not telling me, (Name)?" 

You knew that the only reason why Itsumi was being this inquisitive was simply because she was looking after you. She hadn't been wrong when she'd pointed out earlier that you were drifting in and out of focus since the beginning of the week. It was Wednesday now, and your condition hadn't improved. Probably because of the lack of sleep you were getting. 

But Itsumi didn't have to know about that. 

"It's just gotten a bit busy at the shrine lately, Sumi," you explained, which technically wasn't a lie. With the festival pushing through tomorrow evening, you took it upon yourself to help out as much as you could. Your grandmother even put you in charge of coordinating with the food stalls and game booths that were going to do business at the foot of the hill. 

Itsumi hummed in contemplation, affixing you with a dubious stare before slinging her bag over her shoulder. "If you say so..."

"Oi, (Surname)!" 

He couldn't have picked a worse time to drop by than now. With a sigh, you turned around to face Bokuto, who seemed fresh out of training just like you and Itsumi. But even if he's been worn down by rigorous volleyball practice, he still had it in him to grin at you like his wellspring of energy was yet to run out. Behind him, trailed his eternal plus one, Akaashi, who had a mask of neutrality secured on his face.

He was also the main reason why you couldn't sleep at night. 

In your last meeting, his answer to one of your many questions only gave rise to a dozen more (Who did it? How long has it been? How are you still alive?), all of which the yokai was unwilling to answer. 

You couldn't exactly corner him at school either. It would be too obvious if you suddenly just approached the second year, whom you've never interacted with outside your strange circumstances, out of nowhere. So that resulted in the previous nights spent tossing and turning in your futon, your mind grasping at answers it couldn't reach. 

"Bokuto-san, hello," you greeted with as much cheer as you could manage. "What's up?"

"Your shrine's holding the lunar festival next week, right?" he asked, eyes as expectant as a child's on Christmas.

"Um, yes. Why are you asking?" 

If it was even possible, his grin only scaled wider. "I think I attended the festival as a kid back then. I kind of want to remember what it's like, is all! You mind showing me around?" 

You could practically hear Itsumi internally squealing right next to you when your best friend turned around to bury her face in her hands. Though, you weren't in any better condition. 

"Bokuto-san," you began, feeling your face burn with embarrassment. "Are you asking me to go with you to the lunar festival?" 

"Eh? Was I not clear enough?" The ace cocked his head slightly, puzzled. 

"She'll go," Itsumi answered before you could even process his words. "Wear a red kimono—it's good luck!"

"What? Really?" Bokuto gaped, nodding profusely at Itsumi's words. "Furukawa, thanks for the tip! I'll—I'll go shopping right away. Akaashi, let's go!"

"Bokuto-san, do you really have to drag me everywhere you go," drawled the setter, shooting him a distasteful look. You found it quite amusing, really. How a yokai like Akaashi was being strung around so easily by Bokuto. It was like the ace had a higher power over—

Wait a minute. 

"See you tomorrow, (Surname)!" the wing spiker announced, waving a hand goodbye towards you and Itsumi. Your best friend returned his greeting with a nod, but you were too stunned with your new-found realization to do the same. 

"Sumi, I'll go on ahead," you mumbled half-heartedly as your feet began moving more out of instinct than anything else. 

Your best friend called out from behind you, but you couldn't spare Itsumi any explanations; not with the burning need to confront Akaashi before Bokuto completely snags him away was gnawing at you. The duo were walking at a leisurely pace ahead, just a few meters from the gym's entrance. Akaashi retained his neutral facade as Bokuto chattered about something you couldn't quite catch because—

"Akaashi," you spoke, seizing the setter's wrist. He blinked in surprise, turning to you with a question in his eyes. "Can we talk for a minute? It's important." 

Bokuto was alternating his gaze in between you and the team's setter, brows furrowed at having been left out with whatever you were discussing. "Akaashi, what's (Surname) talking about?" 

A conflicted look flashed across Akaashi's face for a sliver of a moment, so brief you would've missed it if you weren't staring at him dead in the eye. He was studying you intently, possibly surmising all the ways he could murder you and get away with it in his head. Wait, no. Akaashi wasn't like that. 

Yet...

"Bokuto-san, you'll have to head on without me," he conceded with a sigh. "I'll accompany you for kimono shopping some other time." 

The ace visibly depleted at Akaashi's decision, lip swelled into a pout. You could feel a pang of guilt rippling in your chest at the sight, but this was for his own good. You were doing this to protect him. 

Once Bokuto was out of earshot (after five minutes of convincing him that he didn't have to worry about anything) and you've moved someplace more private, you brandished Akaashi with a hard glare. "It's him, isn't it?"

His brows were knit with confusion. "I'm afraid I don't follow." 

"Don't play games with me, yokai," you hissed, the word tasted like venom on your tongue. "I've got you all figured out."

Despite your display of aggression, Akaashi didn't even seem the least bit threatened. He merely stood in front of you with folded arms, the lacking illumination making his already indecipherable expressions harder to read. But you heard the low rumble of a laugh emitting from him before he breathed out a long exhale. 

"I've been alive for centuries, but not one human has ever had the guts to tell me they've 'got me all figured out'," he said, an amused smile grazing his face. You could feel rage bubbling in your chest as your fists shook with irritation. Was he even taking you seriously?!

"You did all this to—to get close to him. You went out of your way, even stooping down to our level, because Bokuto-san has your heart, doesn't he?" You made a beeline for the point of the matter, your gut insisting that you won't get anywhere if you wasted more time. "I don't know how that could have happened but..." 

Your voice trailed off, giving him a silent leeway to explain himself. Why were you even giving him a chance at redemption? The truth was baring its fangs at you right there!

But still...

You couldn't picture the boy that sat down with you by the cliffside just killing Bokuto out of cold blood to get his heart back. The fact that he hadn't permanently silenced you for simply knowing his identity was a testament to his intentions, as well. The yokai you've heard about in stories and legends weren't as lenient like Akaashi was being with you and, frankly, his charitable behavior was scaring you more than it would if he acted in-character. 

Akaashi spared you a lopsided smile, staring upward at the moon overhead. The gibbous was yet to reach completion, and for a moment, you wondered if the full moon would land on the day of the lunar festival itself. 

"You have the right idea, at least," the setter relented. "My heart is breathing life into a human being right now and they don't have the slightest idea about it." 

"So—"

"But it isn't Bokuto-san."

That was all it took for the ire in your veins to die down. You stared at Akaashi unblinkingly, letting his words sink in. It wasn't Bokuto. It wasn't him, yet you went ahead and accused him so boldly. Horror painted itself on your face before you bowed your head in sheer embarrassment—apologies spilling from your lips right after the other. 

"But...why are you by his side all the time if he doesn't have what you wanted?" you wondered. 

"I'm glad you asked," Akaashi chuckled. "I think you've observed how energetic Bokuto-san is on the regular, yes? That aura translates into the realm of spirits as well. Imagine his aura as a force field of sorts—if I cloak myself in his energy, my presence will be even more muted than it already is. Take it as an extra precaution, if you may."

You titled your head to the side. "But why would you need protection when—"

"Is someone back there?"

The sound of the night-shift guard's voice had you on high-alert in a split second, and you ducked behind one of the nearby trees, pulling Akaashi with you. The trunk wasn't a very good hiding place, since you had to press Akaashi closer to your frame so neither of you would get caught. You silenced your breathing as much as you could, straining your ears for the sound of the guard's footsteps. When you were sure he'd left to patrol the other areas in school, you heaved a sigh of relief.

That's when you noticed how close Akaashi's face was to yours. 

"Why were you acting like a serial killer was out to get us," he asked, mouth twisting into a sneer. His pearly white teeth glinted in the moonlight, and you felt yourself becoming ensnared with his navy-eyed gaze for a moment. 

"U-Uh, no. Sorry. It's just that the guards are really strict with PDA, and we were kind of in a compromising position—two teenagers doing god-knows-what in the dark, and all," you explained, springing away from Akaashi as you hoped that he didn't notice the stutter in your words.

Your reasons had some weight in them, too. You've learned your lesson from the time you brought Kazuto here to talk to him about his previously rocky relationship with the rest of the team. The night shift guards never let you hear the end of that.

"I see," the setter replied. "Well, is there anything else you would like to accuse me of before I go?" 

"I would like to accuse you of being a smartass," you bit back. 

Akaashi smiled as he began walking away. "So I've been told."

As you watched him go further and further away, the question that rested at the back of your throat itched to be articulated. Gulping, you ran towards him without another thought, hyper-aware of how loud your shoes were hitting the pavement. Akaashi turned around to face you with curiosity brimming his eyes, and you stopped right in front of him. 

"When you find the person who has your heart," you began, your own heart thundering in your rib cage. "What are you going to do?" 

The look he gave you was somber for a fleeting moment before Akaashi assumed his mask of neutrality once more. He avoided your gaze, looking up at the sky instead. 

"Take it back, of course."

[jadekitty777]

Fall For You

*Runs in screaming and slams this down with forty minutes left to go* 

I will not lie that this one is not my best. Time crunch got to me and I kind of rushed this one. Um, but... I finished? 8D

Thank you everyone who has taken the time to read, reblog,or comment on my stories this week! Your support has been greatly appreciated and encouraging. Another thank you goes out to the many of you who inspired me to write some of these stories; they wouldn’t exist if not for you. Finally, a thank you to all the other participants who made such great fics and art this week;  you all are awesome!! 

Day 7: AU

Dedicated to: @tama-negis (I formally apologize though; you deserve something so much better than this)

Rating: K+

Pairing: Qrow/Clover

Word Count: 2.7k

Ao3 Link: Fall For You

Summary: To Qrow, there was no greater feeling in the world than the sensation of flying through the air, nothing but the bar and Clover to rely on.

That's why the fall was so devastating. [Circus AU]

~

“Net check!”

Qrow rolled his eyes as Clover fell backwards off the trapeze platform, saluting as he went. He looked over the edge just to make sure his partner hadn’t died, before shouting down at him, “You know, after two years, that’s decidedly less impressive.”

“Don’t lie. You love it just as much as you love me.” He was too far to actually see if he was winking, but Qrow knew he definitely was.

Rather than respond, he just continued on with the safety check. He gripped at the bar, pulling on it. No give, no worrisome noises. Rigging seemed secure. He took another step back, before doing a running leap off, holding on tight as he traveled over the net until he came to a stop at the center of their stage.

He twisted his body upwards, landing on the top of the bar and swung back and forth lazily, listening carefully to everything above him. During a performance, over the roaring crowd and blasting music, it was impossible to hear any of the small, subtle sounds of the cabling above. So, any out of place screech or worrisome clonk that could imply something was about to give would go completely unheard. But in the near silence of the empty Big Top, he could hear even the tiniest creak of the frame as it bore his weight.

Nothing out of place.

He slipped his feet off the bar, freefalling for a fraction of a second before his arms caught it. Everything held. Just as it had the last two times they’d done the check throughout the day. He thought it was a little excessive, but James was a stickler for routine, and after taking partial ownership of the circus, had immediately enacted the three-check rule.

There were a lot of those kinds of changes the performers of the former “Marvelous Circus of Oz” had to put up with when they officially became partners with James’ “Fabled Ace Ops”. Higher demands on performance training, complete restructuring of acts and teammates, stricter guidelines on fashion. Qrow wasn’t even allowed to wear nail polish anymore.

“You got to be fucking kidding me!” He remembered shouting at his new boss. “What do you think’ll happen Jimmy? Is my polish gonna eat through the bar?”

Ozpin had to pull him aside after that one, practically pleading for him to cooperate. It was hard to continue being pissed off when he had to face his old friend’s weary, desperate eyes. He knew this was a shitty situation, for all of them. But it was either this or all of them be out of a job. So, Qrow let it go and tried his best to play nice.

Though, he supposed as he turned around on the bar to face the platform Clover was once again standing on, not everything that had resulted in the merger was terrible. Sure, he’d been downright hostile when James had first reassigned Raven with Summer’s act and appointed his own star trapeze artist to him – but it didn’t take long for Qrow to warm up to the other man. Clover was like a magnet of good qualities: friendly, confidant, encouraging, honest.

He was also ridiculously attractive, so that was a plus.

Qrow rocked his body, gaining momentum until he could swing himself back over to the platform, securing the bar down. “Alright, we’re good.”

“No, you missed something.” Clover spoke up.

“What?” He looked around, doing a mental catalogue of his checklist. “No, I didn’t. Wha-ah!”

Strong arms wound around his waist, pulling him in and a big, wet sloppy kiss was planted right on his cheek. “You forgot the kiss for good luck.”

Qrow snorted. He didn’t believe in superstition, especially with names like theirs. He had to of gotten every good luck-bad luck comment probably known to the universe. Didn’t mean he wasn’t above teasing about it. “You’re disgusting and a heathen.”

Clover gasped loudly, before whirling them around, letting him go. “Oh Qrow, my love! How could you wound me this way?” He backed up the two steps it took to get back to the edge, hands crossing over the center of his chest. “The pain, it’s just too much to bear! Goodbye cruel world.”

And with another wink, he went back over.

Qrow tried, he really did, but even biting down on his lip didn’t stop the guffaws that escaped as he looked down again. “You’re an idiot!”

“Joke’s on you,” He hollered back triumphantly, “I’m yours!”

Even with the distance between them, he was sure Clover knew he was smiling.

~

The night was going spectacularly well. The audience was receptive and easily emotive. They’d gotten loud cheers for Summer and Raven’s silk dance and wows for Elm and Vine’s high-wire act. It had been a while since they’d had a crowd this good and the rest of the crew was feeling it too, all of them buzzing to get on stage and feed into the energy.

“Alright, Marrow and the kids are finishing up. Qrow and Clover you’re up. Robyn and Tai, get ready to follow.” Oz called as he snaked his way between the teams, popping his top hat back on his head as he went.

“Ah, what a shame that your act will be completely overshadowed by ours.” Robyn taunted. Though she lacked malice, her pride wasn’t unwarranted.

When people thought of circuses, they thought of all the typical acts: animal taming, clowns, trapeze work. No one really thought of fire arrows. It was the only act of its kind in the world, and one that had happened by complete mistake.

Robyn, from James’ crew, was an extremely precise archer – able to split her own arrows and even bounce them off other obstacles and still hit a target’s bull’s-eye. Tai, from their circus, was their fire performer, his talents ranging from being able to spin and juggle batons that were ablaze on either end to swallowing lit torches and breathing plumes of fire upwards like a dragon. Early on into the merger, the two just happened to be practicing by one another, showboating and trying to one up each other on their skills. One thing led to another, and Tai ended up challenging Robyn to shoot through his flames and still hit her target.

It was when she pulled it off, that the idea to combine their acts was born.

Qrow wouldn’t deny it made for a hell of a sight – but that didn’t mean he’d let her get away with her ribbing without giving back a bit of his own, “Please. Ours will be so good, they won’t be able to get it off their minds long enough to pay attention to yours.”

“Hah, you wish!”

Clover, smug as can be, threw an arm over his shoulders as he added, “Now Robyn, you know wishes are for stars, of which Qrow and I happen to be.”

“And they say I blow a lot of smoke.” Tai intervened with a wave of his hand, “Get on outta here you two before you end up holding up the whole show.”

Anything more that they might have said was interrupted by the sound of laughter floating in with Marrow, Ruby and Yang as they returned backstage. The three were propped up on each other’s shoulders like a human Leaning Tower of Pisa. Qrow and Clover were quick to assist the younger man bearing their combined weight, helping the younger girls down on their feet.

He didn’t have a lot of time, but Qrow still took a second to ruffle Ruby’s hair. “Good job kiddo.”

The eight-year old gave him a tooth-gaped smile, saying, “Break a leg Uncle Qrow!”

“In thirteen places.” He promised, before following his trapeze partner out into the darkness of the stage.

“And now, it’s the moment you all knew was coming. Introducing our Flying Aces, Qrow Branwen and Clover Ebi!” Ozpin’s voice boomed from where he stood in the center of the stage.

Qrow linked his arm with Clover’s just as the spotlight moved to capture them, both of them raising up their free hands up high as if catching the applause from the audience. So close, it was obvious how similar their clothing was – himself in a black leotard that blended into red and Clover in a complementary white to green one. Though turned from the crowd, on their backs was a design choice Qrow himself had insisted upon: Wings to follow the color gradient.

They were the Flying Aces after all.

Oz continued with his announcement, but having heard it so many times before, he mostly tuned it out as he and Clover split from one another, each of them climbing up the ladders to the platforms opposite each other. As the final words from their ringleader faded, the lights below went out, bringing all the attention skyward.

Qrow unhooked the bar that he’d secured only hours ago. The music started to roll, but the moment he went swinging off the platform, it was as if everything else faded. There was nothing except him, the bar and the sensation of wind and weightlessness as he turned his body around, hooking his knees around the edges and hanging down free. As his movement slowed, he eased his grip, gravity bringing him down into a short drop before his ankles caught onto the edge instead. After another few moments, he unhooked his left, all of his weight now on just the right leg as he let his free limbs spread out wide like a taxidermist’s greatest prize.

Mostly he was a distraction, performing small tricks while Clover got into place, throwing himself off his own platform to gain momentum so he could prepare to catch him. He knew his partner was ready when he signaled him with a salute. Qrow pulled himself up so his legs could dangle once again, pushing himself into motion once more. At the apex of their swings, he let go, Clover gripping his wrists easily. They flew together briefly, before he returned him to the bar, Qrow doing an easy spin midair to catch it.

It was his second leap that earned them applause, this time somersaulting twice in midair before being captured. Even over all the white noise in his ears, he could make out Clover’s exhilarated chuckles and a breathless laugh left him as well. This was something they shared: The excitement of the flight, the adrenalin born from hanging freely nearly thirty feet in the air, the thrill brought on with each completed trick as their routine built together.

The joy of doing it all with someone he loved.

Without question, it was that last one that made him do what he did next.

Qrow’s hands clasped onto the bar as he was thrown back to it, swinging his legs up and fitting them between his grip so he could hang upside down again, this time prepared to grab the other man so they could move into the second part of their act.  Clover took his turn to fly over, doing a flip of his own.

But Qrow didn’t move into position for the catch.

Hours later, when asked, he wouldn’t be able to tell anyone precisely what it was that warned him – maybe he heard something snap. Maybe he noticed a change in his balance. Or maybe it was just a feeling in his gut. But somehow, he knew.

So, for the first time since they’d perfected the move, Qrow missed.

Clover went flying one way.

As the rigging broke above him, Qrow went the other way, further and out of control.

The freefall sensation wasn’t unfamiliar to him – he’d dropped thousands of times before. On those rare cases it was unintentional, he was usually even talented enough to make it look like part of the act.

The white-hot agony that laced through him as something impacted his side with the force of a bullet was new though, unexpected in its ferocity.

It was all his mind could grasp at until he was bouncing off the edge of the net and the ground rushed up to meet him.

~

Incessant beeping roused him.

His first thought was he immediately wanted to go back to bed. Whatever the hell he had been doing must have been brutal, because his body ached all over, particularly centralized in his shoulder and hip and his stomach was especially throbbing.

Qrow made a noise in the back of his throat, trying to raise his arm to shut off the alarm, only to find it oddly weighted. His head flopped to the left and he grumbled, “C’ver, ‘larm.”

Suddenly the weight lifted, still there but entirely focused on his wrist. Oh, it was a hand.

“Qrow? Hey babe, you awake?” Clover’s voice coming from above him rather than beside him was what finally got him to open his eyes.

Immediately he realized he wasn’t home in the trailer when instead of just more bed and a window, there was a machine next to him and a wall a few feet away. The machine was the thing making the noise. His gaze rolled around, taking in the IV stand next and gathered a pretty good guess on where he was.

A shift made him look towards the figure hovering over him. His partner looked like a wreck, expression pale and drawn. Dark circles were laden under sleepless eyes.

“Hey.” Soft as his voice, Clover’s hand brushed through his hair, “How are you feeling?”

“Like shit.” Qrow replied, swallowing around his tongue which felt oddly swollen. “Heavy.”

“Yeah that’s probably the anesthesia wearing off.”

“Anesthesia?” That didn’t sound promising.

His partner took a moment to pull the chair behind him closer, sitting down right at his bedside. The hand still holding his squeezed lightly. “Do you remember what happened?”

Shifting through his own head, vague memories of spotlights and soaring through the air came back to him – as well as a stomach-dropping sensation that wasn’t meant to be there. “I fell.”

Clover’s voice shook a little, “Yeah, you did.”

There were a lot of questions he wanted to ask, but the most important one came out first, “How bad am I?”

“You’re gonna be okay. You, have a few fractures but, nothing major broke.” He took a deep breath, steadying himself. “Your stomach’s a mess though. When the cabling gave out, part of it snapped back and hit you. It ripped right into your intestines. You were in surgery for six hours.”

Qrow took that in sluggishly, focusing mostly on the first part. It meant he could still perform. The rest of it could wait for more thought another day.

So, he moved on. “What ‘bout you?”

“Hm?”

“Where were you when I fell?”

“I, uh,” Clover’s laughed, but it sounded a bit wrong. “Down on the net. I was uh, flying over to you and you just didn’t catch me. I think you knew something was wrong, ‘cause Summer said you never even reached for me.”

The significance of that hit him instantly. There were a few universal rules any trapeze worker knew – the topmost being just how vital it was for the flyer to swing after a catch. The human skeleton was a surprisingly delicate thing, and the arc of motion that followed alleviated all of the pressure the body underwent from the flight and drop. But, if the flow of motion was hindered or stopped all together, say by a snapping cable line, all that pressure suddenly didn’t have anywhere go and instead the force would compact onto the body.

At best, the sudden whiplash would have injured Clover’s spine, maybe bruised an organ or two.

At worst, it would have broken his neck.

His partner lifted his hand, lips pressing against the back of his skin as he whispered reverently, “You saved my life.”

Qrow let out a slow breath, mouth pulling up in a smirk. “Nah. I just took falling for you real literally.”

This time, when Clover laughed, it was much more genuine, even as tears finally flowed from his eyes. “You’re an idiot.”

His reply was a victory: “Joke’s on you. I’m yours.”

With no distance between them, neither of them could miss the other’s smile.

[truthisgoldenau]

IT'S PRIDE MONTH

for a moment there I accidentally had Pierce's photo under Marian's name oop

Time to officially confirm some AU canon LGBT stuff! Each character is their own pride flag but I'll add in other stuff that's canon in universe plus some bonus stuff at the bottom.

First up is Freddy Fazbear Jr! Gay all the way.

He's definitely the "move I'm gay" type

Was honestly super freaked out to tell his dad but went with the bold approach of bringing home his first boyfriend and blatantly announcing their relationship as such as a challenge and was honestly surprised his dad wasn't bothered by it

He was around 13 at the time and so the twins and Fred were still in touch with Maddie's parents and brother. All three were incredibly supportive (and still would be)

He absolutely had a crush on Bonnie Burnette even though he had never talked to him. Since the twins and Bonnie went to the same high school he knew of Bonnie, thought he was a dreamboat, but because Bonnie was somehow in with the popular kids (it was the money 100%) Freddy didn't even bother

Frankie Fazbear! My ace son! (The ears are wrong blame the app lol)

Honestly doesn't even know he's ace until much later

He's had crushes before but he's never been in a relationship (part of it is the attempt to communicate since he's mute sort of stops him)

He wasn't even sure it was worth mentioning to his dad so Fred never knew

This boy can hold so much love in his heart but he's not a very physical person that's all

Fred Fazbear Sr! YES. HE'S BI.

Only Maddie even knew he was bi. That he knew of. Some people probably figured it out with his over the top always on personality.

Fred was constantly sure that Pierce picked up on it particularly after the Christmas mistletoe fiasco but if Pierce gave a shit he never said anything.

Frankly it was amazing that more people didn't pick up on it. He was over the top about everything until a point.

While he didn't overreact to his son very blatantly announcing he had a boyfriend, he was very proud of him. It was a very Fazbear family way to come out. Even though he got so distant, he was always proud of his boys.

Bonnie Burnette! Also bi!

Being constantly surrounded by the popular crowd and always being the sort of stand out with purple hair and stupid purple bunny ears didn't do much to make Bonnie feel like he could even tell anyone he was bi.

Really the only reason he was even in the popular crowd was he was rich.

It made him less of a target for bullies at least cause the jocks wouldn't stand for anyone messing with him.

Knew Frankie from math class and honestly wished he could have talked to the quiet kid with bear ears as an alternative to the entirety of the popular group

Sort of in the background of the AU story very quietly develops a crush on Freddy and then thinks "oh God I like the troublemaker NO"

Chandler Cicily! Lesbian!

Would absolutely describe her sexuality as "girls"

She's starting to discover it during the AU (even if it's not a topic that comes up but that's why there's this post about stuff lmao).

She's the baby of the group since she's 16 when the story starts and relationships aren't important to her yet

But the crew still support her when later she's like "maybe I just wanna bake things for a cute girl and let her put flowers in my hair is that too much to ask" (Marian always chimes in with "mood")

Marian Mengele! An absolute bi icon!

Listen, her one goal in life may be to find her lost childhood friend, but that doesn't mean she's solely interested in this one Irish redhead

That said she's definitely only dated redheads

She's not afraid to be open about her orientation. It doesn't bother her. She's seen as weird already what can it hurt.

That said she falls for Finn so goddamn fast when she finds him that she questions herself and then is like "no wait I'm definitely not straight"

She's very upfront with Finn about it. There's no reason to hide this from him (or anyone) and if they're a thing she wants him to know.

Finn being the wonderful human being still loves her and it doesn't bother him. Why should it? He's just happy to be with someone who loves him.

Chetana might be Chandler's fake big sister but Marian is like fake mama when it comes to Chandler finally coming out.

God bless Finn for being the kind of person to sit and let Marian braid his hair with flowers because that's one of Marian's favorite things to do when her partner has longer hair and Finn's never really bothered with keeping his hair short THESE TWO ARE ICONIC I love them

Pierce Graves! A shitty pansexual icon

First off he absolutely knew that Fred wasn't 100% straight he had no idea how it wasn't immediately obvious to everyone

That said Pierce literally did not give a shit who knew about his sexuality

As shitty as his whole personality was he could turn on the charm easily

His parents definitely knew but he was already a punk ass rebellious teen at the time so they have him the "be careful, don't get anyone pregnant" talk and worried from afar. If it bothered them, Pierce never knew because they made sure that he could still count on them (even though at the time Pierce didn't really talk to them much about anything)

Fred absolutely knew though I mean they were good friends

He's not a romantic. He's never really had a meaningful relationship because he's not that type of person. To be honest, there's a piece of him that saw relationships that worked and wondered how that would feel but he knew that wasn't for him. He figured that out way early on when he asked his granddad why he didn't have a grandma and Mortimer Graves didn't sugarcoat the answer. "She wasn't happy with me. I gave her the choice. She could stay and be miserable with my lack of a decent personality even though I was already struggling to not be such an ass or she could go and find someone who actually made her happy. She chose happiness, and while it sucks that she drifted out of my life and your dad's, she's better off."

Pierce could frankly always tell that he was more like his granddad and as much as he sometimes wanted to know if he could even out up with a meaningful relationship, he avoided it. Better to not hurt anyone and wonder than to become the catalyst for someone else to overcome, right?

Fritz Smith! Gay!

The shy bumbling mechanic of the early 90s Freddy's ? Gay? It's more likely than you think

He was still far in the closet in the 90s He was young, living at home still because he had just gotten out of school, and while his parents weren't super conservative, he also didn't know how they'd take it

Found a friend in the day guard Mike Schmidt early on. Mike was looking for a roommate since his last one had moved out and Fritz jumped at the chance

They are like totally boyfriends by the time they cameo in the story though

Mike Schmidt! Another gay icon!

Mostly invited Fritz to live at his apartment because he felt bad that this poor shy mechanic was getting constantly harangued about the animatronics having problems

Was glad to let Fritz complain about it and even cry it was very stressful but Fritz needed the money

Mike liked him. It would be hard not to really. Fritz was a sweetheart.

Mike didn't ask him out till much later though he wasn't quite sure that Fritz was gay and didn't want to ruin their friendship.

Luckily it didn't and as it turns out they worked well in a relationship.

Fritz's parents had to take some time to get used to it when finally Fritz got the nerve to tell them but as soon as they did there was no end of support from them

Mike's parents were the opposite which was mainly why he already lived by himself but oh well he got a cute boyfriend and cool parents-in-law later it was kind of a win

Daniel Hartford-Dunn! Gay!

Presenting Maddie's older brother!

outside universe fact, he's loosely based in my actual cousin who lives in California with his husband.

He's 7 years older than Maddie was. Despite that, they were still close. Maddie's parents wanted more kids but struggled to get the two they had.

He's an accountant for a corporation and his boyfriend (and later his husband) is a pilot.

Last time he saw his nephews in person was at Maddie's funeral. He misses them terribly but over the years less and less contact came from his brother in law

Sometime in 2006 though he ends up getting a call from his nephews and there's this great reunion.

He's just. This chill older guy. Who loves his family. And doesn't care what people think.

Since I can't put anymore photos, here's the bonus content!

-as mentioned last night Dr. Phillip Guy is on the ace spectrum. I don't have anymore details about that at the moment unfortunately.

-Charlie Emily is a lesbian. The Emily twins were born in 1980. They haven't appeared in the AU yet even as cameos but they exist. Considering in AU canon the Emily family is alive and well in Hurricane, Utah without an Afton to be found, Charlie's dating her childhood friend Jessica at around the time the AU events are happening.

-Sammy Emily is trans and bi. Both Henry and his wife (who I know I at one point named but don't remember what it is anymore) love their two daughters to pieces.

That said I'll make a post at a later point introducing the Emily family because so far I've only officially given the design for Henry and not the rest.

In line with canon, Spring Bonnie/Springtrap can be counted as gay.

While Fred kept the shows at the diner pretty simple and straightforward, there was definitely this subtle underlying idea that Spring Bonnie and Fredbear were a content gay couple although if asked it was easy to present them as friends. At least, that was during '81-'82

However!

Fred also had Henry help him program in a special one time only song called Springtime for his and Maddie's anniversary in 1983, which was of course a love song. Fred always thought of that as being mostly for his wife, and partially as a turning point thematically for the two characters.

Henry was on board with this. They still kept it subtle, but there were clear moments where it was pretty much certain that the only way to interpret Spring Bonnie and Fredbear was as a couple. It was either so subtle that no one was bothered or Spring Bonnie's chosen voice was so ambiguously non-binary that no one thought it was odd.

Fred had plans for it to become more "canon" but never got to implement them since Spring Bonnie got damaged before he could.

Springtrap, being sentient and able to later interpret his emotions, is very confused about how he as a machine was meant to feel about this character he knew but the more sentient he becomes the more aware he is that he misses Fredbear and that he loved him. It's the cause of a lot of internal conflict for him. But he can be counted in the category of LGBT characters in the AU.

Happy pride month ya'll! 🏳️‍🌈🏳️‍🌈🏳️‍🌈

[psychedelic-ink]

Arrival at the Maiden Island

We talked for I don’t know how long, sitting on opposites ends of the couch facing each other, our legs lying by each other’s sides over the cushions. We talked about things that mattered and things that didn’t, letting it hurt only a little at a time. He told me about his sister that ended up leading to him saying he despised bread. I had to laugh but that brought up Makino and how she’d make me and my brothers nice little snacks once in a while and how once Ace pretended there was a spider in my hair and my food went all over the place. It was his turn to laugh as I mimicked my panic state. This brought up Cora-san and how he was a walking disaster, clumsy as they came but how it was that man that saved his life… There was a silence for a moment before I mentioned Shanks and how he liked to act like a goofball but was really the greatest man I had ever had the pleasure of knowing. He was baffled that I knew one of the 4 Emperors of the sea so casually, I shrugged reminding him that they were people. From the Emperors we ended up talking about Whitebeard and how I never really got a chance to talk to him before the war but from what Ace had said and from the little bit that I did talk to him, he seemed like a great man – not just anybody gets Ace’s respect like that and for my brother to call him father…? I knew better than most what that meant to him… I tried, as casually as I could, to ask if he knew how the newspapers had heard about the connection between Ace and Gol D. Roger, Law explained that Sengoku had announced it to the world before Whitebeard arrived at Marineford.

And Vice-Admiral Garp let them.

Law must’ve caught on with my annoyance as he said that I was making the same face he did when people tried to feed him umeboshi. I reflexively shook and tucked my tongue out, thinking of the horrible taste, my reaction must’ve been amusing since he laughed so much that he had to hold his belly. I liked the sound of his laugh… I didn’t even notice that I had leaned my head on the back of the couch that was actually to my left as I chuckled, watching him laugh.

How long had I known this guy…? How long had he known me?! And we were chatting like old friends, like we’d known each other for years. Makino once told me that it might sometimes be easier to talk to a stranger than to an old friend, I didn’t really understand. Still, it had been what I told Nami after we took down Arlong and his goons, despite the fact that I considered her a friend before I think that’s when our friendship solidified. How long ago had that been…? Even so, I just understood it that moment, that moment when Law was laughing and my heart was light despite everything that had happened.

“I’m scared…” I admitted as his laugh died down, his golden eyes finding my grey ones as my head remained on the couch’s back “There’s nothing I want more right now than my brother to wake up… Nothing. And nothing I wouldn’t give to make it happen…”

“But…?” he asked, his deep voice calm and kind.

I took a deep breath “But what am I gonna say when he wakes up…? How’s he going to react…?” I saw Law frown in confusion “It’s the second brother that I can’t save… The second time that I’m too weak… The second time that all I can do is watch…” I took a deep breath to stop the tears that I felt brimming behind my eyes, I shift my gaze from his eyes to my hands, remembering the warmth of my brother’s hand on mine “I didn’t hold on to him… What if Luffy hates—” I stopped when he reached out to hold my hands.

“Hey…” I looked up at him, still feeling his thumb caressing my fingers as his hands held mine “I don’t know Straw Hat, I met him once and we ended up fighting some marines. And I also don’t know the specifics of what happened with Fire Fist.” He paused for a moment, licking his lips “But from what I’ve seen, I doubt there is anything you can do that’ll make him hate you.”

I meant to pull my hands away but he didn’t let me “You don’t know that.”

“I know that I’ve cut him up, touched his internal organs, stitched him back up, disinfected his wounds and more and I didn’t hear a peep out of him. Know when that changed?” I shook my head “When you’d scream. When you’d have a nightmare so bad you’d scream and then he’d react.” I saw him smile a bit “It’s not like he could do anything really, the guy is out for the count, but I’d say that says a lot about how he feels about his little sister.”

I smiled and I was about to say something when the door opened and Bepo came barging in “Captain!” he looked at us, blushed furiously, then left again closing the door behind him “Sorry!”

Me and Law looked at the bear, the door, then at each other. I saw his cheeks flush a soft shade of pink before he stuttered out some incoherent sounds and placed my hands over my knees before getting off the couch “Bepo! Stop being an idiot, what’s wrong?”

“Uh…” he started as Law opened the door, but I saw him glance between me and his captain a couple of times. Wonder why he’s being so weird “We’ve arrived at the designated area by the Pirate Empress.”

My eyes went wide “Hancock?!”

Law glanced over his shoulder and nodded “We met her and the Kujas on her way out of the war, while you were still out. She insisted in giving us shelter why you and your brother recovered.”

I raised him an eyebrow remembering the commotion it was to just have Luffy in the island “And you guys were allowed to get on the island…?”

He scoffed “No. This old lady was with them and made sure we weren’t allowed in the actual village, they arranged a bit off the bay for us to set anchor while you guys need my medical care.”

I smiled “Sounds like Granny Nyon.”

He nodded then turned back to his friend “I’ll go to the bridge for the surfacing of the sub and to meet the Empress.” He then turned back to me “Wanna come?”

I nodded without even needing to think “Yes! I have to talk with Hancock too.” I got off the couch as Law grabbed his hat and sword off the side. I followed the two through the halls, the sub seemed a lot smaller when you actually knew where you were going – not that I did, but I was with people that did. I hadn’t been in the bridge yet, there wasn’t much to see, Law took his seat, told me to hold on then started giving orders as I felt the submarine tilt then level out again. Law got up with his sword and tilted his head for me to follow them out, I did. A BIG door opened, letting the sunlight touch my skin for the first time since that fight with the marines and as I stepped out, it dawned on me that me and Law ended up talking the night away. The brightness of the day blinded me a bit, but as I blinked a couple of times, I could make out the island just beside us, some curtains with the Kuja mark blocking the view deeper into the island and Hancock standing with some of her warriors waiting for us.

The Heart Pirates brought a plank from inside the sub and connected the submarine with the shore, out of respect, I disembarked behind Bepo that followed behind Law. I hadn’t even stepped on land when I hear Hancock’s voice “How’s my darling Luffy and his sister? Any changes?”

“Straw Hat is still the same.” Law replied and I stepped out from behind Bepo “Tiger Luna’s been doing better though.” It was strange to hear him call me by my nickname, but I guess that the weird thing was that I’d started us on first names right off the bat. I wasn’t that different from Luffy in that.

“Hi Han—” she had her arms wrapped around me before I even finished.

“I’m so sorry, sweety.” I felt my heart jump at her words, then she pulled back to look me up and down “How are you feeling? How are your injuries? Have you been eating properly? Sleeping?”

I nodded “I’m alright, Hancock, thank you.”

“You’re welcome to come with us to the castle.” She invited immediately “I’ll have a room prepared for you and my warriors will be at your disposal.”

I lightly raised my right hand as she spoke “It’s alright.” I replied “I think I’ll stick here.” She seemed to go to speak again, but I beat her to it “I couldn’t bear to leave my brother.”

“I understand but—”

“She also still needs medical care.” Law interrupted the Empress with a stern voice that turned her attention to him “The fact that she’s walking around is actually worse since her worst wound can open back up at any time.” His golden eyes then glanced over at me “Plus she has the bad habit of not standing still.” And back to Hancock “So it’s better if she stays here anyway.”

She nodded “Alright.” Her voice now devoid of any of the emotion it had when she was addressing me “You won’t have to worry about supplies, I’ll have my warriors bring you food while you’re here.”

“That’s appreciated, we’ll need our own supplies for when we leave.” Law said.

Hancock nodded at him then stepped over to me again “While the men might be restricted to staying here, you’re always welcome among us, Luna dear.”

I nodded “Thanks.”

“Whatever you need, just ask.” She emphasized and I nodded again.

“Thanks Hancock.” She was about to turn away, but I grabbed her wrist, making her turn back to me “Not just for this, for everything.” I added as her eyes met mine again “We wouldn’t have made it to Ace without your help, I’ll never forget it. Thank you.”

She took my bandaged rough hands in her soft ones and smiled “I wish I could’ve done more.”

“You did more than you were meant to.” I replied honestly before I pulled my hand back behind my back, I could feel myself shaking even as she turned back to Law.

“If any of your men are caught beyond this point, they will be killed.” She warned in a cold tone.

Law grinned “Sounds fair.”

The Kuja ended up leaving and I hurried back into the submarine as everyone enjoyed the fresh air outside, I could tell by my shadow that my ears had shifted and my tail had appeared, I also felt my claws scratch he wall I was holding onto. It was happening again, I could feel my heart trying to jump out of my chest. I tried breathing like Law had showed me before but I still wouldn’t stop shaking “Hey.” I turned to find the captain walking over to me “You’re doing ok.” He slowly came closer, my eyes wouldn’t leave him for a second, I could tell it was my predatory instinct taking over but I couldn’t shake it “May I?” he slowly reached for my hand and I let him “Here.” He took my wrist to my eye level and showed me as he took my bracelet off, putting it in my palm and closing my fist “Hold onto this and close your eyes, try breathing then…” I found myself doing as he instructed, with my eyes closed, all I could see was the memories in the darkness, slowly, my heart calmed down and I opened my eyes again to find that Law was still there, I don’t know why that surprised me…

“Thanks…” I whispered looking at the silver bracelet in my hand.

“Do you know what triggers it?” I shook my head “C’mon…” I looked at him to see him walk back out “You need some fresh air.” I quickly caught up to him, feeling my body shift back into human as my predatory instincts slip away with the panic, then he raised me an eyebrow “How do you know the Pirate Empress?”

I smiled, it seemed so long ago “Me and Luffy crashed into her bath once.” He made a half surprised half impressed expression that only made me chuckle.

Once I was outside, Bepo, Penguin and Shachi pulled me over for a conversation over the fantasies that surrounded the island “Is it true that they’re all women?” “Yup.” “Do they ALL dress like the pirates?” “Yeah, but they can also break you in two with ease.” “Are there any female bears?” “No Bepo, I’m afraid not.” “It’s an island of women! Human women, you idiot.” “I’m sorry…” “Don’t Bepo, it’s a normal question.” “Stop enabling him, Luna.”

Ikkaku saved me from the eternal conversation with the boys by asking me for a tour of the island, which I obliged. I was sure Hancock wouldn’t mind, Ikkaku was a woman after all. We walked around, loads of the women on the island would talk to me and I tried to be as polite as possible, I noticed that the Kuja were at the bottom of the castle with those curtains raised and I knew what that meant. They greeted me and asked their questions, everything sounded the same “How are you?” “How’s Luffy?” “I know he’ll be alright, don’t worry.” “I’m sorry about your brother.” I was starting to regret coming into town. Ikkaku seemed to read my mind and pulled me over to other parts of the island. It was a nice stroll as my time with Ikkaky tended to be – made me miss Nami.

We returned to the sub at around dinner time, Law didn’t ask us where we’d been or what we’d been doing so I suspected that he had been the one to ask her to take me for a change of scenery. Poor Ikkaku, had the patience of a saint.

At dinner, I again noticed the absence of the captain “Penguin?” I called his attention from the bowl of pasta he was stuffing in his mouth, he glanced over at me “Where’s Law?”

He shrugged “The captain rarely joins us at meal times, he loses track of time easily when he’s working.”

I raised him an eyebrow “Is that so…?”

He nodded “Yeah, we take him dinner later to be sure that he eats something.”

I set my jaw “Huh.”

“I feel like you’re planning something.” He said and I grinned at him before getting up “Luna? Where are you going?”

“Infirmary!” that’s where I’d find him, I was sure. If there was a path I knew was from the infirmary to the mess hall and reverse. I opened his office door and there he is, eyes in a book with five other books opened around him, he was so in thought that he didn’t even look at me. Oh, he was asking for it.

I came up behind him and pulled the back of his chair until it tipped him behind “FUCK!” his eyes met mine upside down but I didn’t give him time to realize what was going on, I start pulling the chair with him still sitting on it “HEY! HEY! What do you think you’re doing?!”

“Dragging you to dinner, you clearly can’t get there yourself.” I blankly replied.

“Put me down!” he demanded as I dragged him and the chair behind me.

“No.”

“Room. Shambles!” I looked over my shoulder to see he had his sword in his hand instead of a book “Amputate!”

I dropped his chair quickly enough to avoid the attack. I grinned through my sharp canines as he regained his balance after the chair fell. I held out my arms on my side, feeling the air shift around us “Tiger’s grip!” I shifted the air around his body so that I could hold him in place. He wasn’t happy but my white and black tail kept casually swinging from side to side as I held him in place “Grumpy panda, I was raised by mountain bandits with three unruly older brothers in a forest with giant animals.” I smirked “You lose the moment you’re not willing to go all out on me.”

“Shambles.”

I was where he had been before I knew it, feeling his sword to my back made my tiger ears perk up “You shouldn’t boast. It’s rude.”

I spin to my left, shove the sword out of the way and make him step back “This is fun. Shame you’re pulling your punches.”

He shrugged “I can be a bit sadistic and you’re still injured.”

“Oh, I can be very sadistic.” I grinned “Comes with package.”

He grinned back and I used my powers to lift his chair beside me, putting it straight as I sat on it. I motioned over to his sword as he sheathed it “A bit dramatic, no?”

He flipped me off “It’s called a fight or flight reaction.” I laughed before flipping him off too.

“Come on captain grumpy, it’s dinner time.” I said putting my hand down.

He started walking over to me “I’ll be there later.”

“No, you won’t.” I retorted, looking up at him “I haven’t seen you, even once, eat with your crew.”

He crossed his arms over his chest “How is that any of your business?”

“How is it not?” I counter and I see him blink a couple of times, with a lack of response I continue “Come to the mess hall, eat with your crew. The world feels less lonely when you eat with your friends, you know? Plus, the work will still be there when you come back.”

He sighed, rubbing his face “You’re not gonna stop nagging me until I say yes, are you?”

I crossed my arms over my chest and shook my head once “Nope.”

“Fine then. Fine!” he looked at me “Get off the chair, I’ll meet you there.”

“Heck no.” I grinned “The chair can stay here, it’s not gonna run away.” I got up and hooked my arm on his, basically dragging him to the mess hall.

“You’re a pain in my ass!” he grumbled but I only grinned up at him.

“I have that effect on people!”

[amieyhko]

Escapril 2019

escaprilday 2019 // 1: a fresh start

two Costco bags full of

umma-certified clean clothes,

“unpacking cannot begin with wet clothes”

Taipei humidity is unkind.

coins clink,

white noise revs

drowning out the drizzle

as heart somersaults

to the rhythm of the cycles:

what — tum — am I — ble

doing — tumble — here?

the darks tumble its final spin

as the lights

click —

into a stop.

a whiff into a warm towel

warns me the comforts of home,

promising

of munchies, blankies, and speedy wifi

of cushy floor space where crafting

and writing past midnight can be done in secret

but —

fold — maybe — toss — I changed —

yellow blouse — or gave up too easily —

fold — or could it be —

toss — I’m listening to all the wrong voices? —

red turtleneck — no — flick —

wait, this is so soft now, I guess the washing machine in that guest house in Seoul was indeed really terrible —

fold — yes, this is how it should feel on my skin —

toss – my heart knows, though —

fuzzy sock — maybe home is where I need to be right now —

into basket — there’s nothing wrong with —

grab — starting over again.

escaprilday 2019 // 2: april showers

you said all memorable moments

include an unexpected deluge

I nod and laugh

as the metro ac pierces through

my drenched jacket

I shiver as I feel my clammy socks

cling onto my not-rainproof Docs

("they're not?" you ask in shock)

ears ringing still

from speakers booming

throat scratchy from scream-singing

at the top of our lungs.

still, you smile, shiver, and say,

with half-dazed eyes,

all good memories

end in rain.

escaprilday 2019 // 3: incorporate music

“Hope I’m not tired of rebuilding”

at this in-between

this time of heating up lukewarm lattes

and microwaving soggy french fries,

a surrendering of old and new

kindles a familiar tune:

“not what’s easy, what do you want?”

at this in-between,

the seconds between a squat and a jump

or the hours during an endless free fall,

a whisper sings an awakening:

“even a phoenix dies”

so at this in-between

muster up the strength to

inhale blue

and exhale gold.

escaprilday 2019 // 4: anxiety

lacuna

¡amiga!” he chimes like clockwork

with a sonrisa that has probably charmed plenty of hearts.

my fist bumps his and I walk toward the dark halls

where they tilt their heads forward and say

“안녕하세요” they grin,

some fake, others genuine,

mostly muscle memory.

“哈咯“ she greets as I turn the corner—

a sound of familiarity.

the velcros on my lips finally relax

till we part ways to our stations

“how are you?” their words flow dry

they probably don’t want to find out

my tongue lands on one syllable:

“good”.

escapril 2019 // 5: back to nature

I’ve a secret spot for seeing stars in Taipei City.

after a day downtown,

blasting my headphones at damaging decibels,

fixing makeup with samples at drugstores,

and chasing after buses,

I skip down the announced “platform two for Taipei Zoo”

and gaze down at the light show stage named Zhongxiao Fuxing.

as the red greens, a rush of headlights streams at me—my eyes

lose focus, my heart

leaps back into my chest just as

the home-bound metro approaches.

//

I’ll always remember the yard at Tiszavasvári

where we lay to see a starry night drawn by the Creator

after a day of listening to screaming children,

braiding their hairs,

and chasing after the impossible ones,

we stood in awe, jaws dropped, then soon learned

our necks weren’t strong enough

so we lay down, evening breeze

accompanied by the crickets sang a lullaby—

my eyes played a senseless game

of connect-the-dots, my heart skipped several beats

as I let go of the memories of beds and blankets.

escapril 2019 // 6: nostalgia

missing you is easy.

remembering you creeps

up in little mundanities

like a cup of fruit tea

a bottle of Clorox

or an inappropriately loud laughter--

to my consolation, yours is unmatchable.

although,

the sound of your laughter rings

quieter

till I can whisper:

escapril 2019 // 7: start with a time of day

3 a.m.

why wait

for dawn when

we can set yesterday

up

in flames

over this river?

escapril 2019 // 8: love poem

I cannot recall the exact words uttered

but something in my heart fluttered:

our eyes met for a millisecond

we cracked, till our breaths weakened.

our words, lost in the waves

transformed into safes

I open in my heart of hearts

to feel at home within the laughs of your loves.

escapril 2019 // 9: focus on the color

chorok hadn't found its form in

korean of old. fields of

grass and evergreens,

little plates of herbal banchan,

lush of summers,

and squirming caterpillars

all existed as paran-- that same

color ascribed to vast oceans,

and sunny skies

then one lively spring, chorok

creeped its way into our tongues,

demanding to be seen on

street signs,

the mountain tops, and

cross walk lights

though some still speak "the light

turned paran",

and the incorrigible children's tune

singing of spring

blossoming into paran,

chorok sprouts an entrance

undeniable to out naked eyes.

escapril 2019 // 10: femininity

the bus,

back slides down on the uncomfortable bus seat,

fingers stroke through my freshly buzzed head,

while many eyes fixate above my eyes,

asking:

"is she a boy or a girl?"

"is she a lesbian?"

"what happened to her… hair?"

eyes read their faces,

mouth struts a big yawn with no reflex system telling me to conceal it.

imagination floats to a stadium,

feet stands on the podium,

voice declares:

I'm still so-very-much a lady--

just not fair like Audrey,

nor dainty like a stereotype,

or as brave as Joan,

and definitely not as attractive than most

but maybe more like

the ones writing history

now.

escapril 2019 // 11: not from your perspective

most of the time I sit beside the maroon sofa

where you watch tv and transform into a potato

I wait and wait for that sweet moment

you grab my handle

travel me to a flat desk

wind me up with thread

hook me up to a pedal

switch my light on

smooth out a piece of fabric

pinned up in zig zag

then

zoom, crackle, buzz,

your hands sync to my rhythm

you pray I don’t jam

or break your thread

then you announce with pride

“et voila!”

escapril 2019 // 12: spring cleaning

it takes two countries

few cities

thirteen houses

fifteen boxes

thirty trash bags

and an infinite repetition of

"do we need this?"

for a soul to grasp the spider web line

between a desire and a necessity.

then a decade teaches the

same soul

sometimes,

spectrums soften

escapril 2019 // 13: celestial bodies

if only

seeing you was as easy as

some nightly glow at your half

reflecting off

a big blazing ball of light on my half

escapril 2019 // 14: make it rhyme

a sonnet-full of embellishments, fake

notions of how lovely you are like some

weather in summer or spring, homemade cake

that tastes like cheap flour and rotten eggs, numb

from clichés, the love songs that never shut

up, posed photos of arms around my waist,

a let-me-take-that gentleness, so what

are you doing? leaving sour aftetaste

in our hearts. no, this sonnet is not for

us. we don’t need guidelines to fall in love,

nor the recipes known to prevent war

(it cannot be all fair in war and love),

so stop. steep in this silence as your hand

finds mine in this complicated quicksand.

escapril 2019 // 15: describe a smell

a dash of prickliness:

prickly, like appa’s beard attacking my forehead as he plants a kiss.

then an overwhelming sense of saltiness:

salty, like that time I accidentally used the spoon side of the seasoning bottle

or tasting my own sweat or tears.

something rotting at slow decay.

fruit flies feast.

my nose shoots me back to

halmoni yelling something in dialect, umma replying.

I stand in the middle of the market square, I’m ten.

they promised me jjajangmyeon,

my nostrils can hold out just a minute more.

escapril 2019 // 16: any dreams?

five—

I was to be a Pokemon trainer by day

and Sailor Moon by night

but adults hung my creativity dry

seven—

a singer-songwriter

but music chose me not

ten—

fashion designer,

draw designs, sew coutures, walk the runway myself

but whispers yelled discouragements

fifteen—

couldn’t care: I was a realistic teen

now—

I tip-toe about my heart

trying my best not to pick on scabs,

unable to answer any questions

albeit an I-don’t-know

has never sounded more

comforting and clear.

hear the wounds heal

to the beat of the unicorn hooves.

escapril 2019 // 17: body as friend or foe

I was born in Guatemala,

but my father’s from Georgia

he’s a musician, he produces

K-pop albums and we travel the world

searching for the next big deal,

my mother paints apples, she’s from Zimbabwe

she also writes Chinese poems.

It’s all true—

my body deceives every bit of reality within me.

escapril 2019 // 18: a happy place

hear nose tickle

with the sound of lavender feathers

fluttering by

eyes will open up to inhale

the golden hours spent

under Your glorious dance

escapril 2019 // 19: without your name, who are you?

if an utterance of a name

can form a heart,

her name has been called by many

if each spoken word forms

a vibration into what we are,

she's a someone

whispered into a myriad of paradoxes:

she's an asteroid, crashing fast,

uncontrollable, unexpected.

she's a cup of tea, calm,

idle, ready for nothing.

escapril 2019 // 20: a liminal space

this amorphous ground feels comfortable,

excuses acceptable:

the excruciating humidity,

drowsy rain, busy friends,

false pride, miscalculating time.

they say:

Prufrock measures his life in coffee spoons,

but Zeno says nothing ever reaches its destinations.

the Knight holds his tongue

yet his heart flutters a violent beat.

I’m just another contra, letting my feet skip away

as each step echoes heart beating somewhere

back.

escapril 2019 // 21: it’s the end of the world

no zombie apocalypse,

the sun still functions,

stars are still, hearts

unbroken, no one

escaping to Mars,

no fatal goodbyes.

one silent pink noise

a purple glow,

“welcome back home”

it said.

escapril 2019 // 22: nourishment

last month, I met a little

potted plant.

I took it back to my little

suffocating room

and named it little

foggy star.

I loved it little

by little

I gave it little

droplets of water,

spoke little

words of compliment,

took it to my little

window sill

the sun peeped through

a little.

it grew a little,

I did too.

escapril 2019 // 23: when the party’s over

recollect spilled laughters —

this, for unworthy jokes,

that, for suave comments,

maybe one for someone dreamy —

bottle them up,

keep them fresh

for the next sea of

stragglers,

mutual someone,

you-look-quite-nice,

wow-so-interesting.

escapril 2019 // 24: liar, liar

how to be a compulsive liar

one: disregard empathy, embrace despondency, think selfish,

my life doesn’t have to tell truth tales, no one needs to know.

two: rehearse recollections, think practicality, use names they’d never check,

let myself believe in each detail, each sight, smell the scenario

three: speak the perfectly fabricated phrases into existence,

no need to bat an eye, stutter a detail, overthink a loophole.

for example: “yeah, the party was fun. we walked around the park afterwards.

who? oh no, he wasn’t there. he had an important family dinner.”

four: remember the lie, inform reliable partners in crime if necessary,

never bring it back, stick to your guns.

promise yourself: they can’t hurt, they’ll never know.

remember: truths hurt, they’re inconvenient, it’s none of their business.

dig: until your shovel breaks.

drown out: every kindness the world has to offer.

die: in the said dug hole, climb out just to

repeat: until trust is a pair of cracked glasses, refuse to see a redemption until

die again: learn that these walls must go —

invite: the uncomfortableness that is vulnerability

repeat: until system reboots.

escapril 2019 // 25: pick an animal

my giraffe friend

shades me when the sun’s high

and warms me when the wind’s rough,

meeting her eyes pains me with

an aching neck,

she will always stand tall in a room,

there’s no shelf too high for me,

when she’s close by.

escapril 2019 // 26: girlhood, boyhood, childhood

when I was older, I had a pair of

very pink sneakers

they'd glitter in the sun,

glamoured in gemstones for dignity

velcros loud enough to turn heads

when it was time to take them off

I glanced over my neighbors' shelves:

ugly. blue. brown. ugly. mine trampled over all.

then my eyes stood silent

as I zone in

on her pair of Gundam sneakers

secretly jealous, mostly confused,

extremely frustrated of rule-breaking

girls, defying pink, watching animation

for boys only

now, I wear boring black or white shoes

so do most humans with feet.

escapril 2019 // 27: the state of it all

“you're it!”

a harmless push from their arms

my chest thrusts back

limbs under a spell

all bones removed

“catch me if you can”

why don't you save me

'cause you can?

escapril 2019 // 28: reflection

memories retraces a blur

crooked smile

red dye fading

cigarette between your fingers

standing mostly on your right leg--

you let out a puff as i tell you “i’m imaginary.”

you say you couldn't have

so i tease you more with a kiss

“that wasn't real

that was you imagining it all

new school

a manic pixie

the loneliness got to your brains

that's all”

you flick away the cigarette

eyes reflecting my face

you kiss me back and say

“please don't do this to my brain

you're real

far too real for me i'm not smart like that”

i snicker

the buzzing bus terminal is real

you and i are real

but i'm not

you're no more

escapril 2019 // 29: may flowers

she died a few days ago—

flew off the rooftop

fallen against teeming

reborn lives

the most beautiful of flowers

only last a day or two

you said we are beautiful

because we’re ephemeral

but what happens when

fleeting moments like

a crash kilometers away

pain for someone I never knew?

escapril 2019 // 30: catharsis

yesterday, I cleaned out my room

bugs infested each and every corner

I tried to catch them but they

hid away between the nooks and crannies

whispering schemes to each other

learning the dustiest corners I’ve ignored

waiting for a perfect time to kill

so I dusted out the corners

rearranged the furnitures

repainted the scratches

thinking cover-ups should make anew

yesterday, I cleaned out my room

praying for the bug spray to kill,

I felt seventeen, rearranging photographs,

filling up a space with desired personalities,

she would have been proud

there’s nothing I’d tell her, but to say

yesterday, I cleaned my room, for another hundredth time

they say an odyssey is a cycle

ending with a catharsis

where you come clean

but yesterday, I cleaned my room

again

[electronicyarn]

NOT Live Blogging RWBY Vol. 7

Guess who has two thumbs and finally finished watching RWBY Volume 7? This gal! So I decided I’d post my thoughts on the volume. I’m kind of disappointed I didn’t get to properly live blog it, but I guess right now this is the best I can do.

(So is…is tumblr still a thing? Or has whatever company that owns it now finally run the site completely into the ground. Maybe the question I should be asking is: does anyone still follow my blog?)

I think in the interest of not rambling too wildly I’m going to organize my thoughts into broad categories. So, here we go.

Visuals

If nothing else, this volume was a feast for the eyes. I’m impressed that RWBY continues to noticeably improve its visuals with each Volume. Honestly, at this point I don’t see the need for further improvement. The character models are appropriately stylized, the backgrounds are gorgeous, and the last of the kinks have (finally) been worked out of the animation.

What I’m less enthused about is the costume design. Don’t get me wrong, it’s not bad. It’s just not great. Penny’s new design works. Ruby’s outfit is virtually identical to her last one, so she gets a pass. Weiss’s is close, oh so close. I like the basic design, but I think the colors needed some more tweaking. Blake’s outfit is…. Well, I don’t know. I think I’m going to call it mildly nonsensical. I’m digging the haircut though. (Same goes for Jaune!) Yang and Neo’s new clothes are so-so at best, and Cinder’s are downright awful. Strangely enough, it’s Team JN_R that wins the best-dressed award in my book. They’re new outfits look far better than Weiss’s, Blake’s, and Yang’s by a mile.

I guess I should count my blessings. After Neo and Cinder’s new outfits debuted at the end of Volume 6 I was afraid that everyone might end up looking like lampshades. Or maybe fetishists not fully committing to the part.

Story

Up until about Episode 10 I was going to call this volume the good twin to Volume 4’s evil twin. A volume of RWBY that lacked the high-highs and the low-lows that are so endemic of the franchise. The difference between the two being that Volume 4 was painfully mediocre, while Volume 7 was pretty good. But it turns out I was wrong. The entirety of Volume 7 was, in my opinion, nothing more than a build-up to the big finale. And what a finale it was! But maybe I shouldn’t get ahead of myself.

The first episode really won brownie points with me for basically doing the bad part of Volume 6 (Team RWBY spitting in the face of authority) except doing it right. It turns out that authority figures aren’t always “whimsical” caricatures masquerading as antagonists. (Sorry, I really hated Caroline, and not in a good way.) It also turns out that sometimes the authorities aren’t utterly incompetent. In many ways the Ace-Ops arresting Team RWBY reminded me of a less extreme version of the ending of the fourth Hunger Games movie. Specifically the part where Katniss and company decide to storm the castle and utterly fail. You know, the part where the movie transformed from an uninspired parody of itself to the absolute highlight of the entire franchise?

And then a bunch of stuff happened, some of which I’ll discuss in the next section. And then there were some really great fights. Oh yes, and then Salem shows up. Bye-bye Atlas! You. Are. Outta here!

Honestly, the only thing I didn’t much care for story-wise was Penny becoming the new Winter Maiden. It’s not because I don’t like the concept; it’s because it feels like they didn’t put any thought into the idea other than “let’s make Penny the Winter Maiden”. I’ll withhold judgment for now. It’s only fair that I wait and see where they go with it.

Characters

Believe it or not, I don’t have much to say about Team RWBY themselves in this section. Development-wise this volume was almost exclusively focused on other characters. And that’s not necessarily a bad thing, although it wouldn’t be my first choice if I had my druthers. Honestly, Weiss, Blake, and Yang’s character arcs have largely been concluded at this point. Only Ruby’s left with outstanding issues regarding her mother. So…yeah. Maybe that bodes poorly for the franchise’s future now that I think about it? Or at least my own personal enjoyment of it? Eh, I’ll worry about that later. I should talk about all the other characters!

Team JN_R – I was a bit surprised at the lack of Jaune-related content this volume. They didn’t even deign to make him suffer much. But with a cast as big as RWBY’s, it’s not the first time we’ve seen a character take a volume off as it were. The big news here is that they actually attempted to give Ren a character and bring him into conflict with Nora. I…. Well, I don’t really think they succeeded, to be honest. As is a common problem in RWBY, there really wasn’t enough time to let the idea be fully realized. But I appreciate the effort.

The Ace-Ops – Oh, I had these guys pegged as the volume’s final bosses from the get-go. And I was not disappointed. As one-off antagonists, they worked. I can’t remember any of their names though. Except for Clover’s, and I’ll talk about him and Qrow in the section below.

Penny – It’s about time she came back. We all knew that was going to happen, right? And while I’m on the subject, Pietro was a nice side character too.

Oscar – He was there.

Robyn – I’m not sure what to say about her, to be honest. She was a good enough character, and played her role in the story well. But I never felt like she rose above her role.

Neo – You know who my favorite RWBY character is? It’s Yang, obviously. And do you know who the most strongly characterized RWBY character is? It’s the late Roman Torchwick of course. But do you know who takes second place in both of those categories? Neo. Kind of ironic for that second one given that she doesn’t speak. Neo did not disappoint this volume. She never disappoints. And I’ve said it before, on this very blog I think. In terms of raw-skill, Neo is one of the most dangerous characters in the RWBY-verse. Team JN_R vs. Neo? No contest. Although I am amused that Jaune got the only real hit on her. I’m even more amused that it somehow felt appropriate.

Cinder – Again I continue to really like post-Volume 4 Cinder. No matter how hard she tries, the universe just won’t stop kicking her in the teeth. And it just fits her character so well. Bravo Rooster Teeth!

Winter – Winter’s battle might not have been the most fun. That goes to Neo vs. some bush leaguers. It might not have been the most creative. That goes to Team RWBY vs. the Ace-Ops. But by God, no one put in more effort than Winter. She has my utmost respect.

Weiss’s Mom – Hey, she exists! Nice!

Dr. Watts – So much smarm. So much arrogance. I should hate him, but I really don’t. He’s just great.

Ironwood – And the best for last. Oh my. Oh my, oh my, oh my. His arc this volume was absolutely perfect. It was given enough time to be believable, amazing for a show like RWBY, and every step along his journey made sense. He’s become my absolute favorite kind of antagonist, the kind that believes what they’re doing is right. And here’s the thing, I can’t say that Ironwood is wrong. I don’t think he’s right, but I can’t say that he’s wrong. Give me an Ironwood over a Tyrian any day of the week. Please give me an Ironwood over a Tyrian.

The Gay Agenda

*singing* Qrow has a boyfriend….

Er…. Qrow had a boyfriend. And then Clover got Bury Your Gays’d. I’m kind of disappointed, but I’m kind of not. After all, the universe has long since ordained that it is Qrow’s lot in life to suffer.

To tell the truth I’m deeply divided on how I feel about RWBY’s take on the gays. The homoromantic subtext between Yang and Blake has reached levels equivalent to Season 3 of Xena: Warrior Princess. And Qrow and Clover were about there too. On one hand, I’m happily drinking it all up. On the other hand, I want to call Rooster Teeth a bunch of cowards. It’s not 1999 anymore. You can make characters gay. RWBY has made (side) characters gay. At best I’m expecting them to pull a Legend of Korra and only make things “official” at the very end of the show, a resolution I found deeply unsatisfying. But if I were running the show, would I do things differently? Well, yes I would. But would it be the correct decision from a revenue perspective? I’m assuming that RWBY is a, let’s say, important show for Rooster Teeth. I base this assumption on the fact that they announced three RWBY-adjacent spin-offs just after Volume 7 finished. Perhaps they feel they can’t take any risks with something so popular? Perhaps they don’t particularly care. Again, I don’t know how to feel about it.

Conclusion

Homoromanticism aside, (Never!) is Volume 7 the best volume ever? It might be. Only Volumes 1 and 5 can contend with it for consistent high quality. If I had to declare one volume as the best overall, this would probably be it. That being said, I doubt anything will ever supplant the Yang and Blake vs. Adam fight in Volume 6 as my favorite part of RWBY. I still can’t believe they paid that off so well. Three years of anticipation and they fulfilled my every expectation.

Wait, what was I talking about again? Oh yeah. Volume 7. It was good.