#and you are assuming that the decisions that followed happened in a vacuum

[isthisjackie]

If you’re calling a Jewish person a Zionist but don’t have any concrete proof and have not seen any proof yourself but continue to do so, and someone who is agreeing with this accusation says something like “most Jews are zionists if not all” perhaps maybe you are on the wrong side of this conversation my friend and not as liberal as you think

[himebushou]

When you contrast Kazuki and Rei's motivations against their actions, there's a bit of a gap.

Following Yuzuko's death and the ensuing guilt that Kazuki felt, one would assume that the natural thing to do would be for Kazuki to leave his line of work. Instead, Kazuki appears to do the opposite — he emotionally closes himself off for a long period of time to avoid becoming invested in people, believing that he is incapable of protecting others. He focuses on his work rather than turning away from being a hitman.

Rei, meanwhile, made an active decision to leave the Suwa family home, and by extension, the organisation. For Rei to have concluded that this was the best thing for him to do, he must have recognised that something about his life wasn't quite right. He is, after some sort of negotiation, allowed to depart — but instead of being able to explore whatever it was that led him to realise that he needed to go, Rei also focuses on his work.

The pair maintain a sort of languid existence until they meet.

Kazuki and Rei saved each other. Kazuki was once again able to care for someone and commit to caring for someone; I think the key difference between Rei and other people (in Kazuki's head, at least) is that Kazuki knows Rei is very, very difficult to kill, which gives Kazuki some peace of mind. Rei doesn't need Kazuki to protect him, as such, since Rei is perfectly capable of protecting himself. Rei's strength and aptitude enable Kazuki to relax.

Similarly, Rei is rescued by Kazuki's kindness. I'm sure he had been shown kindness before, but it's doubtful that Suwa Shigeki, one of the most influential people in Rei's life, ever showed him affection. Therefore, when Kazuki arrives, armed with rubber gloves and a vacuum cleaner, deep down, Rei is staggered by the sheer depths of Kazuki's compassion. Kazuki's kindness is not grandiose. It is simple. Rei left the Suwa house but could not take his recovery further — then Kazuki appeared and gave Rei a physical environment that he could perhaps begin to recover in, one that deeply contrasted with the austerity of Rei's family home.

In essence, Kazuki and Rei gave each other security.

There's a lot of emotional closeness. In Episode 3, when Kazuki breezily brings up his childhood, Rei responds, "You don't usually talk like this." The 'usually' highlights that the topic has come up before. In Episode 8, when Miri asks what happened between Rei and her 'grandfather', Kazuki is privy to a lot of details about the family dynamic. He discusses matters which he's unlikely to know about through sheer conjecture. As such, I believe that Rei must have opened up to Kazuki, at least once.

Miri is the catalyst. She is another reason to move on, be different. To change. Kazuki has the opportunity to finally be a father. Rei, the merciless killer, can protect.

It's a good thing that they bumbled through those earlier years, asking questions and not finding answers. Ultimately, it resulted in the trio finding each other.

[numberonecameraman]

📢 Champions

When the Pokémon World Tournament happened a while ago, I was assigned to follow the contestants to get footage of them for the media. Never in my life have I met so many stuck-up, inconsiderate, and selfish people. I could talk about most of them for hours, so I’ll try to be brief.

Red was fine. He was extremely quiet, to the point he only said five words to me in almost a week of shadowing him. “Cool hat. I like it.” He also didn’t do much. He spent most of his days in the green room staring absentmindedly at a wall or playing with his Pokémon. Fine on paper, but the higher ups hated my footage since it wouldn’t make “good TV”. Not necessarily his fault but I associate the memory with him.

Blue… Imagine the most annoying teenager you’ve ever met times 10. I’m sure Blue could be a fine person in a vacuum, but since he was an “esteemed guest” at the PWT, he could essentially do whatever he wanted. I’ve never seen anyone eat as much as he did. He also loved being on camera. Every other second he would be pulling a stupid pose or asking me to record him during a practice battle. Just a pain to be around, overall.

Lance. The first words he said to me were, “Are you a fan of the Dragon Type?” That’s all he talked about to everyone and anyone he met for five days. Every second I spent with him was agony. The best part was when he challenged me to a battle right before he left and Laguna sweeped his team with Ice Beam, including his ““invincible”” Dragonite. Needless to say, he didn’t do as much bragging after that.

Steven is Lance with an off button. He loves rocks, he’s practically obsessed with them. The day we met he showed me his entire collection, which I have to admit was pretty cool. But after that, he rarely brought it up! He mostly kept to himself after that and even tried to have normal conversations with me. He also lives like a minimalist. He brought two bags to the event, one of which was entirely filled of duplicates of his standard suit. How he can afford those, I have no idea.

Wallace acted as though everywhere he went was the Nimbasa Music Theatre. Everything had to be a performance. Whether it was ordering food, talking to people, or signing autographs, every action was done with a dramatic flair. He also never stayed still for more than a few minutes. His catchphrase was, “You there [Me]! Let’s go someplace fun!”, even if it was 40 feet down the road. In his defense, a couple of them were pretty fun like the Marine Tube.

Cynthia and I seemed to share a “Let’s get this over with” attitude so we hit it off pretty well. However, despite getting along with her, I essentially became her answering machine. She would never make a decision without my input and it got old really fast. Her “body guard” Garchomp also took some getting used to. She’s a massive softie, but I think I still have rashes from her impromptu “hugs”.

I have mixed feelings on Alder. On one hand, he shot my dream of being Pokémon League Champion into the void. On the other hand, he seemed like a good person. He cared about my feelings and offered to talk with me about the Champion thing. Though that was more of a curse than a blessing. He loves to talk. A simple conversation about the weather can last up to 30 minutes. His jokes are terrible too. I want to like him, but never will.

Iris seemed like a repeat of the Blue situation at first. She was loud, bratty, and really irritating. But, as time went on, she calmed down and was genuinely fun to be around. She was incredibly mature but wasn’t afraid to be herself. Her team was awesome to see in battle too. If it weren’t for the horrendous first impression, she’d be my favorite Champion. Maybe I have a soft spot for kids.

That’s all the Champions I’ve met. I know there are others, but I can’t speak on them. From what I’ve seen, Diantha seems like a snob, the Alola League Champion is a boxer so I don’t know what to expect, Leon’s probably really stuck up, and I assume Geeta acts like my boss, which means I hate her by proxy.

[kynmites-blog]

Let's take a moment and reflect on the idea of free will.

Assume first that nothing but your mind is real. Physics, chemistry, the person next door, all of it made up by you.

Now that we are just minds, what does that mean for free will? Well, if I was to have a perfect copy of that mind, it would follow that it would make the same choices as the first. Otherwise, it wouldn't be a perfect copy.

Now take those two minds and displace them in time. Since they will come to the same choices, observing the future mind would allow you to know what the present mind will do.

So that's it then? Free will doesn't exist? Well, that kind doesn't, but I've never understood why people would think that it would.

Choices don't happen in a vacuum, and even if the first ones did, the ones that followed wouldn't by default. If every choice is truly random, they aren't choices as you didn't choose between A, not A, or random. You would have to be random, removing random as an option.

Not always being random means that some choices are made based on past events. As such, we should be able to know the odds of each decision.

If the choices are A, not A, or random, there is a 50/50 chance of A or not A if the cause is random or a 33/33/33 if you make a choice as you could choose to be random.

The probability of successfully predicting your action given this scenario is 5/12* with a total of 2/3 of the decisions resulting from a random choice, effectively meaning the choice is indistinguishable from being random.

That is assuming the odds of choices being truly random is 50:50.

If, as we are forced to do, we assume reality is real, these odds change. The odds a choice is truly random become the product of the odds of all chance events. With things like quantum effects changing the way you think, temporarily making your decision truly random, and thus not a free choice.

"So, without free will, what's left? Why make decisions if they aren't my choice and instead are just the result of causality?"

Well, there's the trick. They are your decisions. We need to stop thinking of ourselves as separate from reality, that our minds are somehow different from our brains.

You are a collection of conditions that result in decisions when exposed to events. How you will react is not the same as how someone else will react, and that is the "free" in free will. The "will" is the drive to act. That drive, too, is built in, but it's built into you, and it's different than mine.

We can change based on new information, even if that information is entirely internal and generated by reflection over time. Free will being causally based doesn't take from that either. They are still your changes.

What does this do for morality?

We will have to table that for next time on Dragon Ball, as this post is getting too long and is distracting me at work.

---Maths---

P(A or Not A | success Scenario 1) = 1/2

P(A or Not A or Random | success Scenario 2) = 1/3

P(Scenario 1 or Scenario 2) = 1/2

P(Success) = P(success∣Scenario 1) x P(Scenario 1) + P(success∣Scenario 2) x P(Scenario 2)

or

5/12 = (1/2 × 1/2) + (1/3 × 1/2)

2/3 = 1/2 + (1/3 × 1/2) possible results are from a random decision.

[quickdeaths]

@more-than-a-princess asked: 14, 15, and 18 for Anzu, and 17 and 21 for Tsubasa!

14) has your muse had feelings or experiences that seem to / do conflict with their identity? are these general knowledge? does it alter how others see them, or how they see themselves?

Anzu is a very girly girl, all things considered. She likes pretty clothes, makeup, hot boys, being the center of attention etc. She's soft-hearted and cries at sad movies, she likes doing karaoke with friends, and her shoe closet is insane. In most ways, she is the platonic ideal of an average teenage girl, and it's hard to really see her as anything but that, even when witnessing some of her less flattering gremlin-like behavior. She would certainly say that her feelings and her experiences line up completely with girlhood, with no incongruities or confusion at all. Even her most "against-type" hobby/interest (bugs and bug-catching)... her thinking is less that it being common knowledge would somehow affect how others see her as a woman, and more that it would affect how they see her as the cutest woman alive.

That said, there is one big area where her experiences are... complicated. Despite the fact that kabuki was invented by a woman and the original kabuki theater groups in the early 1600s were entirely women, it has been an almost exclusively male-dominated venture for almost 400 years. This is something that Anzu finds complicating, because she loves performing, she loves the exaggerated makeup and the costumes and the stories. She has no concerns about her father accepting her identity in a vacuum - rather, her concern is that her father would say "I love you so much, daughter, now you have to quit performing because kabuki is for men." Anzu doesn't respect the idea that she's somehow not worthy of her job because of her identity.

It doesn't affect her own perception of herself, because Anzu knows the history, she knows the banning of women was a decision rooted in misogyny, and she knows that the excuses that some people cling to about keeping it that way are weak. Overall, her experience is less being worried about her identity being disrespected or invalidated, but rather her identity being seen as a reason to disqualify her from doing what she loves.

15) if the thing that originally caused them to realise / start the chain reaction to realising they weren’t cishet had not happened, how much longer would it had take to end up here?

For Anzu, there was no "one event" in terms of her identity realization. Anzu has understood that she's different since she was able to recognize that she liked her sister's cute clothes more than her own. There's basically no universe where Anzu, being the person she is, doesn't realize that she's different, and be able to put into words how basically as soon as she knows the right words in question. That doesn't mean there's not something interesting to this question, though, because while Anzu had it figured out early, she had a roadmap that she ended up not following.

Originally, she had always intended to sort of keep her gender to herself, and her sexuality within her close friend circle only, until she was college-age or even after graduating. That was when certain legal options open up to her anyway, and while she wouldn't have been happy about it, Anzu is nothing if not an excellent performer. She assumed that would be easier than being open about everything. But, while she was looking into moving back to Tokyo and enrolling in HPA, she got back into contact with Shinobu, saw how she was finding ways to assert her identity in what is basically a hostile environment, and that willingness to perform cisheteronormativity basically immediately shattered in Anzu. If someone with a million more reasons to keep things close to the chest was being open, then Anzu couldn't find her own justification to keep herself from doing what she wanted, though her parents' knowledge of things is still a bit hazy.

18) how does their family feel about the matter? friends? coworkers?—and does their thoughts matter to your muse?

As far as family goes, Anzu's older sister, being an HPA staff member, knows and is keeping it a family secret for her. Her mom has some idea that Anzu is kind of unique, but the full extent hasn't been conveyed - she probably thinks that Anzu is just a crossdresser, and as someone with her own background in the entertainment industry, she doesn't find that particularly strange. Anzu's father is the one who really doesn't know much at all, and that's because while she knows he would accept and validate her, as stated above, she's worried he might try to keep her from the stage because of it, and she needs to prove that she belongs.

Her friends and coworkers are a mixed bag. Her personal friends all know and naturally they're supportive and kind (they wouldn't be her friends otherwise). Her coworkers... They don't call her 'Anzu,' but rather 'Goto-san,' or 'Goto-senpai,' so it doesn't always come up. Her stage name is gender-neutral, but it isn't like she picked it - there were 11 men that used that stage name before her, so in the context of the theater tradition, it's still understood as a man's stage name. For people doing short stints, who knows how much they know, but anyone who has any length of time working with her gets the picture eventually, and if they're not cool with it, they can find another theater because "I'm a better actor and a bigger star than you❤️"

Basically, Anzu very rarely (if ever) feels personally shaken in that part of her identity (now her personality? what kind of person she is? who Anzu Tachibana really is? those are different stories). She knows she's an incredibly cute and sweet girl who anyone would be lucky to be in the presence of, so the opinions of others to the contrary don't bother her. When it becomes a problem, and where she feels unease, is the idea that other people might think they understand better than her how she should interact with the world because of her identity, and what things should and should not be available to her.

17) how are their feelings towards pride and related phenomenons?

Big fan, no complaints! Tsubasa considers themselves as needing that kind of thing less than other people (author's note: ehhhhh), but their guiding philosophy is that people should live their lives as they want to. You like a certain hobby or interest? Awesome! You want to dress a certain way? If it makes you happy, it's the only way to live. You want to use a name or pronouns that are different than some previous set? You got it! Everyone should be the only administrator of their own body and their own surroundings, in Tsubasa's eyes, with no one else getting to have a say about it.

Because Pride is, in a lot of ways, a celebration of that, Tsubasa's happy to attend. They know that for a lot of people, it's a liminal space where they can express something that can't easily be expressed elsewhere, and they're glad that it exists to give people that safety. Seeing people unashamedly enjoying themselves and living authentically or exploring how they want to live charges their cyber angel batteries and gives them a lot of joy. Plus, also, Pride is a great place to meet cute gay girls. 10/10.

21) what words do they reclaim, what are they okay with being reclaimed, and what do they do not want to used to describe them?

As it relates to like, uncomfortable words, Tsubasa is really only okay with "queer." As a general rule, even if a word doesn't bother them, they don't know if it might bother other people, so they steer away from anything that could be considered sensitive or offensive. As far as for themselves, their preference is only non-gendered terms. Partner, child, person, skater, cyber angel rather than man/woman/boy/girl/son/daughter/boyfriend/girlfriend etc. They are nonbinary, and they also accept being called x-gender, and while they are a lesbian, they are not a woman and they don't want to be understood or referred to as such. They're more likely to accept "masculine" terms as gender-neutral (dude, bro, that kind of thing) than "feminine" ones (sis, girl, etc.), which is partially personal preference, and partially that, as a skater, they see those masculine terms as almost "subculture words."

That said, Tsubasa is a laid-back person, and they're more likely to consider something as being born of ignorance rather than malice. They'll correct someone rather than get angry (most of the time, at least as it relates to themselves), and even someone who is being actively, purposefully malicious, they try to stay cool, since a big emotional reaction is usually what that person is fishing for. The best way to know their stance on a word or descriptor is to ask them about it - they don't bite unless you ask them to.

[starr-fall-knight-rise]

Humans are Weird, “A Preoccupation with Death.”

Hope you enjoy :)

Analysis By Dr. Krill MD

Humanity’s preoccupation with death has always fascinated me: I say fascinated because to say that it disturbs me would be rather unscientific, and I have been attempting to reign in my anger… I have had some… complaints over the last year about the unprofessionalism of my previous papers. The GA community does not appreciate, and I quote, “Excessive swearing, and screaming” in virtual reports, so today I will attempt to be calm and relaxed as I explain to you, common human traditions based around death.

Now you must understand, from my perspective these practices are quite bizarre. Vrull have no rituals associated with death. The Vrull are disposed of and their bodies are incinerated. The ash is then disposed with by mixing into the soil to produce needed plants on the planet surface. There are no other options, and no other arrangements are made.

However, I am told that funeral rights with humans are, often, more to do with what the living need than what the deceased do. However, there are some funeral rights believed to be required in certain human cultures, so that rule does not always hold completely true.

I will begin from the moment of death.

Unlike the Vrull humans do not know their exact time of death. Granted this is not because the Vrull have a set clocking system in their bodies which sets the time in which we die, but because our society sets forth a time of our usefulness. No one knows how long a Vrull can feasibly live because no one has tried it before. I myself might plan on finding out, as I have no intention of returning for my scheduled termination, which is already a year overdue.

Humans, like most other species die in several different ways, accidents, sickness, or the sudden failure of the body due to old age, the final one generally happening peacefully and in their sleep.

However this is where humans tend to diverge from their inhuman counterparts, in that they are very social creatures, the death of a human is usually witnessed by multiple family members and friends, in the case of sickness, and is mourned many weeks after because the death of someone in your social circle changes that circle forever. Social bonds are cut and entire social lives are upended. Humans bond so heavily with each other that the loss of one of their own can lead to mental and emotional trauma extreme enough to require medication and hospitalization.

Humans plan their deaths months to years in advance. In certain instances, their jobs force them to plan their death in advance in case something were to happen. Decisions need to be made about who owns their property, where it goes, what happens to their dwellings, and how the surviving members of their family will be supported. Sometimes they plan this due to terminal illness which they knew will lead to their deaths, otherwise they might just do it out of precaution.

There are many different ways of disposing of a corpse. First of all, you must determine if any of the human parts are recyclable: this being the very morbid idea of taking someone else’s organs and giving them to another person. Now with the advancement of this technology, organ transplants from donors is not as common as it once was seeing as they can now 3D print organs. However, this method is not time effective and is very costly, in some cases leaving the harvesting of deceased human organs to be the only viable option.

Yes, they take organs from dead people… the doctor and surgeon in me admires that thought process, but the thinking breathing creature inside of me recoils heavily at the idea.

Assuming that no one requires your organs, or if you have especially requested for your organ not to be used  than there are other questions that need to be addressed. There are humans who have jobs especially in the business of taking care of dead bodies. They are generally moved in special containers and placed in refrigerated units to slow decomposition while the relatives determine what they want to do with the body.

In certain cases, where the death is suspicious, as related to murder, there are, in fact, humans who specilize in determining the cause and time of death based on the decomposition rate of a body and the stiffness of the flesh itself. This is a semi-common practice across the galaxy, and I myself have performed one or two autopsies since my professional career began though they are far more common for humans.

I find that the most humane method of human enterrement, and the one that makes most sense to me as a Vrull is the idea of cremation. The body is taken and placed in a furnace that is then heated enough to turn the body to ash leaving only bone fragments and the occasional mineral deposit. The ash may then be given to the family members or disposed of accordingly. Some humans find it comforting to keep the remains in some sort of container.... A fact which I find morbid but, we have proven in abundance that I find much of what humanity does, rather morbid.

It is only going to get worse.

The other method of disposal, popular through human history, however made someone obscure in recent centuries due to the proliferation of human burial sites…. The common north american and European Burial and funeral rights went as follows. After death, and freezing in the morgue, a special human with the job of mortician is called in to prepared the body for burial…. This is where it gets very morbid.

The body is drained of all of its fluids and then pumped full of preservatives to slow down the process of decomposition. The faces are then painted with makeup to give the corpse the appearance of sleep rather than death. The body is dressed in fine clothing and placed inside a coffin or casket: these in themselves can cost thousands of dollars as the family members decide what materials the box should be made out of and lined with, precious metals, woods like oak or steel, and the inside lined in velvet satin or silk. The body is placed inside with the person dressed in a finely tailored suit before a hearse: a special vehicle designed to carry caskets is brought to the place of mourning, generally a curch or a funeral home.

Many times the body is then put through a “viewing”.... It sounds just as bad as I make it seem, when the humans come in…. In large groups…. To stare at their dead relative. Just…. Stare at their rotting corpse before it is hauled away and lowered into an six foot hole in the earth. A decorative rock is then place on top of that inscribed with the deceased’s name so that everyone knows where to find their moldering corpse….

….

….

I am told this provides a lot of closure for family members, though I have yet to understand why staring at a painted corpse would be helpful.’

Unfortunately, with humans, this isn't the most gruesome method they have of corpse disposal, nor the most involved 

You may also chose to donate your body to science…

They might hand your bod over to a medical school, where aspiring doctors will, in groups, dissect your corpse slowly over an intervening few weeks or months. It is… gruesome, but a necessary part of the learning process. Your skeleton might even be recycled for use as a tool to demonstrate the skeletal structure to those very same students.

Perhaps your body will end up in a museum, where they will encase your nervous system in plaster and place it on a wall for school children and visiting day travelers to view.

Perhaps you might donate your body to…. A body farm. A palace where scientists will toss your corpse out into different elements to observe the rate and change of decomposition based on different dump sites. They will examine the decomposition, the moisture loss, and the bugs which take to eating your body. This research will then be used to determine the cause o death for other corpses disposed of by murderers or in similar fashion.

It is gruesome, but I suppose…. It is useful for scientific efforts.

These aren't the only methods of body disposal.

Bodies have been tied to the top of large towers

Thrown into the woods to be eaten by animals

Dumped into pits.

And in a couple of cases, launched into the vacuum of space.

Different rituals require family members to spend more or less time with the body, to wrap it in special cloth, or to anoint it with certain oils. 

The Egyptians were widely known for their complex and involved enterrement rituals commonly known as mummification.

The body was first embalmed

The brain was removed

The organs removed and placed in specialized canopic jars 

The body was then dried

Then wrapped which continued to help in the drying process 

Then the body was finally entered, and due to the sandy heat of the desert, the body was often preserved to a great and surprising degree. Egyptians believed that those things you had in life would come with you after death, and so egyptian rulers were entered with great riches and inside grand palaces 

Then of course there is the last ritual which I learned about just recently.

Certain tribal societies will….. Eat…. their dead….

They will eat them….

As in the entire village will get together and consume the corpse in a feast, believing that without this they cannot enter the afterlife.

…..

…

…

…

…

I am going to draft a proposal to the GASC that screaming and profanities should be considered scientifically appropriate when in regards to humans

[truthdogg]

There’s no way to end a war safely. Win or lose, a lot of people are going to die. That’s the nature of war, it’s what happens in war no matter how much money you spend on equipment and contractors, it’s what war is all about. Flex your muscles or shock and awe all you want, the other side (or sides) isn’t going to just do what they’re told; they will fight, they will kill, and they will die.

An end game or a final goal has to be clearly stated from the start, for their to be any hope of consensus for when and how to exit. If there was one, it may have been possible to accomplish it and leave immediately. If not, it shouldn’t have been started at all.

Was the US in Afghanistan to capture Bin Laden & other leaders? To shut down training camps? To just kill a bunch of people for revenge after 9/11? Any of these looked like justifications at the start, but as each one was accomplished, the forces stayed.

Was it to build and maintain a new government? That has only really ever worked in one of two ways: total destruction of the country with immediate rebuilding, or establishment of a colony, and there weren’t a lot of people arguing for either of those. Even so, a new government was formed, but it could never build support or trust during an ongoing war and a massive foreign presence.

Or was it to “fight them over there so we don’t have to fight them over here,” as GW Bush stated about Iraq? If that was indeed the case (which would be phenomenally immoral), the war was intended to simply last forever, as the battleground would always exist and would exist as a recruiting tool for more fighters to kill.

Was it to “fight terror,” as nearly every politician since 9/11 has claimed? Terrorism is a method or a tactic, not an ideology or even an enemy, and a war on terror can by definition never be won. This is like declaring a war on raids or assassination, or on countervalue. It too is designed to last forever.

But this war is now coming to a close, so those stated reasons must by now have been abandoned, and the early justifications must have been forgotten in the decades since it began.

Frankly, the Afghanistan withdrawal has been FAR less bloody so far than I ever imagined it could be. It has been a stunningly successful operation when compared to the fall of other countries after the US has fought for years on their behalf—with or without their input. Perhaps Trump’s promises to the Taliban are to credit for this, perhaps not, but it appears clear that the Taliban has mostly held their fire waiting for the international coalition to exit.

That’s not to say it won’t turn horrifically bloody any day now. After all, when governments collapse the power vacuum doesn’t just fill itself naturally and peacefully. There aren’t a new group of civil servants standing around waiting to be told to show up and start work. There always will be physical conflict over who takes these new roles, and who assumes power, and there will inevitably be many killings in the power struggles to come.

Perhaps that explains why Trump released the Taliban’s leader along with 15% of their army, in the hopes that putting a clear strongman in charge would stop the fighting faster than a prolonged power struggle. If a liberal (in the classical sense) government had a small hope of defeating the Taliban, there may have been a calculation that the US could be pulled back into the conflict. This way, by setting up an illiberal leader without the input of the Afghan government, the end may be relatively decisive and rapid, and a new Saudi ally could maybe even become a place for Americans to keep making money. This is all conjecture, of course, but it at least follows some rough logic.

Still, this is in fact a war, and warfare is messy, violent, ugly and deadly. Anyone claiming that a perfect and clean ending to this or any other war was ever possible from the start, especially with the absolute lack of clarity around US goals there, is fucking delusional. And frankly they have no business opining on this war or any other.

[rosesisupposes]

Objections, Your Honor

Two lawyers are across the aisle in open court once more. But today something is off, and no one is happy with the result.

read on ao3

characters: mainly Logan & Janus; background Virgil, Patton, Roman, Remus, Remy, and Emile

pairings: soulmate Loceit; QPP Analogical; QPP Moceit; romantic soulmate Royality; romantic soulmate Dukexiety; romantic soulmate Remile

content tags: non-traditional soulmate AU; courtroom drama; arophobia and acephobia; shameless self-pandering with legal arguments about the MCU; gushing about QPPs; couples therapy

reader tags: @royally-anxious @jemthebookworm @arandompasserby  @sparkly-rainbow-salt @astral-eclipse​ @thelowlysatsuma @adorably-angsty @max-is-tired @almostoveranalyzed @potestessemagishomosexualitatis  @mariniacipher @vintage-squid

word count: 10,386

⁂

The day it happened was no normal day for Logan. But not, of course, because of that.

He cared because it was a trial day. Months of motions back and forth, weeks and weeks of preparation, and today was oral arguments. He normally avoided open court, particularly against such an opponent, but nothing could be done.

His case files were impeccably arranged in his padfolio, his grocery list of arguments annotated in precise writing, blue ink dotting the page with emphases and connections, his notepad prepared at his left.

He glanced to his right out of the corner of his eye at his opposing counsel. He didn't want them to see him looking. But he sneered internally at the haphazard stacks of papers spreading across the table and the garish gold ink that looped and curved across sticky notes.

The judge finally came out, and Logan stood, crisply buttoning his tailored jacket as he did so. At the signal, he identified himself clearly. "Logan Finch for the appellant, Your Honor." 

And then, from his right: "Janus Alighieri for the appellee, Your Honor."

Logan rolled his eyes internally. Janus was, unfortunately, a very familiar foe at this point. But then, they were two of the most respected lawyers in their state, with opposing specialties and reputations for innovative tactics.

Logan was self-aware. He had another reputation, too: as a black-and-white thinker, unshakable, unalterable. He preferred to think of it as a particularly strong conviction. Versus "The Snake" against him, who coiled and twisted the facts of his cases to benefit his clients.

And of course, that was the issue today - Logan strove to show that his client had a straightforward, airtight argument that should clearly prevail, while Janus found miniscule details that he said should be enough to distinguish the case at hand and make it different from previous decisions, enough so to allow the case to be decided in his favor. He'd charmed the jury at trial, and now argued against Logan's appeal.

Logan prided himself on keeping a cool head, but listening to Janus' speech just got under his skin. His neat handwriting started to get messier and messier as he furiously scribbled notes of counterarguments and responses to his opponent's points. Then Janus turned slightly, just enough to see frustration's color burn in Logan's cheek, and he smirked.

Logan barely heard the gasp from the observers behind the bar, because he'd just snapped his pen in his grip.

He looked straight ahead, somewhere slightly to the left of the judge's head, but he saw very little, his furious thoughts too loud to allow any else to be processed. But the audience was murmuring and talking, far louder than any judge usually allowed - what was going on?

A clerk from behind him hurried up to the judge's dais and whispered urgently in her ear. Logan had yet to look around, but he was slowly coming back to himself, enough to be confused at this disruption in normal procedure. He refused to look over at Janus' probably-still-smirking face.

The judge cleared her throat. "Counselors, we will recess for the day. Please join me in my chambers now."

Logan frowned, but cleaned up the broken pen and gathered his file neatly back into his leather briefcase. He didn't look over, but he heard the flurry and crinkling of papers as Janus threw his notes into his own bag. Without glancing over, Logan followed the judge to the small office at the back of the courtroom.

"Mr. Finch, Mr. Alighieri. I do hope there's a good explanation for this breach in propriety, not to mention the code of conduct," she said sternly as they both stood before her heavy desk.

"Breach, Your Honor?" Janus asked. He sounded just as confused as Logan felt.

"As barred attorneys, you are expected to know the code as well as I," Judge Kasel said severely. "No soulmates may be involved in a trial together, except as co-counsel."

Logan's ears roared. "Your Honor, I apologize, I must have misheard. Soulmates? How is that relevant-"

"Mr. Finch, don't play dumb with me - the entire courtroom saw!"

"Saw what?" Janus asked. His voice was oddly distant and strained from its normal silky tones.

Judge Kasel stared at them in disbelief. "You mean to tell me you both managed to not see that? I'm quite certain the entire county saw the glow just now, through even the back of your suits!"

"Glow?" Logan asked. His chest was suddenly very, very empty, a vacuum of air or substance, and had he not been sitting he was sure he would have fainted.

"Yes, glow, both your marks on your shoulders. Given your mutual surprise, I will assume that this was indeed unknown, and will not declare this case a retroactive mistrial. But you will both need to send in replacements from your firms."

Janus spoke up, his voice tinny. "Replacements, Your Honor? I should think even in light of this- development, only one of us would need to withdraw-"

"Mr. Alighieri, while I appreciate your dedication, I will not delay this trial for the entirety of your bonding. I will give you both 3 days to propose counsel to take over, and scheduling will proceed with them."

Oh fuck. Bonding, Logan thought, unable to speak. That absolutely ridiculous expectation.

The clerk poked her head in. "If they need to speak privately, this side office is empty."

"Yes," Logan responded robotically. "Yes, I believe we need to speak."

They filed into the small room. The clerk closed the door behind her, whispering "Congratulations!" as she disappeared.

Janus sat in one of the chairs heavily. Logan remained standing, staring blankly at the bookshelves built into the wall.

"I can't believe this," Janus said finally. "We've known each other for years, how could we possibly be...?"

"Soulmarks frequently emit a barely visible glow from proximity alone, particularly when located on skin that is generally covered. Heightened emotion or situations with high levels of stress lead to brighter glows that were invisible or unnoticed previously," Logan recited dully.

"Oh yes, how could I forget, I'm talking to Encyclopedia Brown," Janus said, rolling his eyes. "Of course you've memorized that too." He unbuttoned his suit vest dexterously despite his trademark yellow gloves, slumping forward in his chair as he threw his vest over the arm carelessly.

"At least one of us actually has a factual basis for this event, rather than us both being in the dark," Logan snapped back.

"Yeah, your vast knowledge of facts really helped! Did your misguided quest to know everything somehow miss the detail of who's your fucking soulmate?" Janus said, nearly whisper-screaming.

Logan whirled to face him, a fiery reply already on his lips, when he suddenly saw a blue light showing through Janus' white shirt, bright enough to glint off the polished chair back and off the glass of the picture frames on the wall.

He closed his eyes, breathing out slowly. "Yes. That was a detail I had not learned. It felt trivial, unable to affect my work. But now that it has, we're better off resolving this."

Janus deflated too. "Yeah. We should. If we can just get through this part, at least we'll stop glowing like horny teenagers."

Logan focused on a tiny flag displayed on the desk as he spoke, not looking over. "I know of a very respectable landlord who rents bonding apartments in the city. Nothing overdone or kitschy, no 'honeymoon' suites, just furnished apartments for indefinite stays."

"Fine. Not like we can't afford it, whatever the price."

"I have some arrangements to make at home-" Logan began

"As do I, unless-"

"Unless what?"

Janus took a breath. "How would you feel about living with a snake?"

"I rather thought that was the entire idea," Logan replied coolly.

Janus shot him a withering glare. "I mean a python, you absolute cotton-headed ninnymuggin."

"Ah, my mistake," Logan said calmly. "That should be fine. A pet, I assume? Or your chosen co-counsel?"

"Let's get one thing straight, Finch," Janus said, rising to his full height, looking down at his infuriating opponent. "I don't like you. I don't expect or particularly want you to like me. We are going to be residing together up until, and only until, our illogical marks have decided in their weird cosmic energy to stop lighting up like neon signs whenever we experience strong emotion in each other's company. I fully expect to be pissed off the entire time, which will make figuring that out easier. But you do not get to speak to me that way, or I'll-"

Logan looked up to meet Janus' eyes. "Or you'll what, Alighieri?"

"I'll report you to the bar for breaking the code, and convince them you already knew," Janus replied smoothly. "And you of all people should know- I am very persuasive."

Logan's eyes narrowed, but he nodded. "Fine. And yes, you may bring your python. I'll be leaving my cat at home, however."

"Fine with me," Janus said curtly, deflating back into his normal slouch.

"I will send you the details of the landlord I mentioned. I can make the arrangements within the hour."

"Sure. Wait-"

"What?"

"How are you going to send me the details?"

Logan paused. Their only real contact over the years had been in person or by professional communications. He could hardly use a process server or subpoena to give Janus his key. "Ah. Right. Your contact information, then?" He pulled out his notepad.

Janus pulled out his gold pen and scribbled his phone number at an angle, entirely crossing the college-ruled lines. Logan cringed but took it.

"I will contact you shortly, then. And I will may sure to look for pet-friendly apartments."

Janus nodded. "Right."

"Right."

They both paused.

"Uh. See you soon, then," Janus said, and left the room abruptly.

⁂

Janus had to hand it to him - the apartment was all Logan had promised. Clean, sleek, and spacious. The landlord had even left a spare heat lamp, so Janus' sweet Monty would be comfortable.

Best of all, there were several separate rooms in the suite - two bed, two bath, and two offices.

The kitchen was also well-furnished, and came stocked with staple foods. Logan had arrived, however, with extra bags of groceries.

"I brought my own additions," he said. "The landlord is a friend, but he doesn't buy from the shops I prefer."

He proceeded to pull out several large jars of kimchi, what looked like at least a gallon of soy sauce, and various bright packages that Janus couldn't read.

Janus resolved to take pictures and look up what these things were later. Not while Logan was standing here, glaring up and over as if daring him to comment.

"I've picked the smaller bedroom," Janus informed the shorter man calmly. "Monty is set up in there, so if you're weird about snakes, just avoid it. Actually, feel free to avoid it anyway. I've got a brief to write."

Logan made a noncommittal sound in response.

Hours later, Janus emerged from his office to eat something. His brief was finished, sent off to his senior partner. He hadn’t yet told the firm about the day’s events- only that the appeal would need to be handled by another partner with his associates’ help, he needed to take emergency leave, and he would let them know soon how long he expected to be unavailable. H

e found evidence in the kitchen that Logan had prepared, eaten, and cleaned up dinner for himself.  That was fine by him. He made his own food, grabbed a bag of candy, and retreated back to his room.

The next morning, he woke up at his normal late time, stretching in the sun. The kitchen once again showed evidence of Logan's presence- particularly the currently-soaking coffee pot.

When the sun started to descend once more and Janus had yet to see his new roommate, he grumbled. Guess he'd have to be the fucking practical one.

He blew Monty a kiss for good luck and stumped down to the rooms Logan had claimed. He rapped on the door. "Finch. We need to talk."

He waited. There was silence, then a slow drag of a chair. The doors cracked open.

"Yes? What about?"

"No. We need to talk. Or, fuck, I don't know. Be in the same room occasionally."

Logan sighed deeply, and opened the door more. "Fine."

Janus went to the living room and sat on one side of the couch. Logan followed him and settled on the chair facing him.

"So." Janus began.

"So what," Logan replied flatly.

"Sew buttons," Janus replied automatically.

"What?"

"Just something one of my friends says," Janus muttered.

"Ah. So what was it you want to discuss?"

"I don't know!" Janus snapped. "But I'd really like to get back to my life, eventually, and that can only happen if we bond." His lip curled.

Logan sighed heavily. "And how, exactly, do you propose we do that?”

Janus fell silent. He had very few ideas. Pop culture made it very clear that bonding was an extremely romantic event. First kisses. Proposals. Or, in the less sappy movies, it seemed to consist purely of falling into bed together. None of which appealed in the least, particularly not with Logan.

Logan stared expectantly. "Nothing? You just pulled me out with no ideas?"

"If you're the fucking brilliant one, you come up with one then!" Janus spat out the suggestion with a glare, but then he saw it - a soft gold glow shining through Logan's tee, reflected in the tasteful mirror behind him.

They both deflated again, glows reducing down to hidden beneath their clothes. 

Logan adjusted his glasses. "I. Ah. Apologize. I realize you are attempting to resolve this issue."

"But you're right. I have no idea how to," Janus admitted.

Logan took off his glasses to rub his eyes. "Unfortunately, neither do I. Perhaps just coexisting will be enough."

"How long will that take, though?"

"I haven't the foggiest."

They lapsed into silence.

Finally, Janus suggested, "Maybe we can do our work in the same room. Set up in the dining room with all our stuff. Coexist but in proximity."

Logan glanced over. "That seems relatively painless. Let us make an attempt, then."

⁂

Logan had not had any particular expectations for how well they could share a work space.

And yet, it was still far worse than he'd expected.

Janus talked to himself. As he read, as he wrote, as he researched. Not loud, but a constant stream of soft muttering, disjointed words and full sentences. 

It was the most distracting thing Logan had ever been suffered to experience.

"Will you please be quiet," he said tightly, after an hour passed with no signs of letup. 

"What do you mean?" Janus asked.

"That infernal whispering, please, could you stop?"

Janus looked at him quizzically.

"You're talking under your breath," Logan said. He felt a headache coming on. 

"Oh, am I?" Janus asked. "Sorry. I'll be quiet."

It lasted all of half an hour, and then the muttering started again. "SCOTUS said yes but that was a city sidewalk, 2nd says no but that was Lincoln Center, hm, decoration, use, separation, intent?" 

"You're doing it again!"

Janus looked slightly guilty. "It's barely conscious, it's how I process things. Could you just wear headphones?"

"I need silence."

"Noise-canceling, then?"

"Fine. Do you own a pair?"

But the headphones didn't help. The sensation was too odd, of being closed-in, and he kept bumping then as he went to lean against his hand. Finally, Logan stood. "I'm going back to my office. This experiment has failed."

Janus' eyes narrowed. "Well, thanks for deigning to sit in my presence for a full three hours before giving up."

"I'm not giving up, this is just not tenable!" Logan insisted. 

"Well, you asked for ideas, and I came up with one. If it's not working for you, you come up with a better one. Come find me when you're done thinking, I know it could take you a while."

He stood and grabbed an apartment key, and stalked out to walk off his frustration.

As he walked, he called his best friend.

"Hey Pat, it's me."

"Jan! Hi buddy, how are you?!"

He sighed heavily. "I want to go home."

"But you only just got there?"

"Yeah, and it's going shi- I mean, badly. Really badly."

"I'm sure you'll work it out," Patton said confidently. "You're a brilliant and wonderful human, and anyone smart enough to argue against you will be able to see that!"

"Thanks, hun," Janus said. "The fact remains that I also don't like him."

Patton hummed tunelessly. "It doesn't have to be instant, Jan. These things usually take time."

"Unlike you and Ro."

"Well, yes, but that's because we were meant to be!" Patton soft, his voice taking on that soft, besotted tone it always did when he talked about his soulmate.

"Isn't the whole point that all soulmates are meant to be?"

"Well, yes..." Patton faltered. "But it doesn't have to look like us, we're just hopeless romantics!"

"I know. How's wedding planning going?"

"We started watching movies for inspiration and got distracted with a Disney marathon," Patton said fondly. 

"But you had fun?"

"Absolutely!"

"Good," Janus said, meaning it. There were very few people, in his opinion, who deserved happiness the way Patton did.

He was quiet for a moment, then asked, "Pat- what if it was a mistake? What if we just have defective marks or something?"

"I'm sure that's not true!" Patton insisted.

"It just seems like - I mean, we're not even friends. Most people get to start from strangers at worst, but we've been antagonizing each other for years, what if, I don't know. Neither of us had a soulmate and so they glitched out?"

"You just need to find some common ground," Patton said confidently. "You can't both be so passionate about being lawyers without something more in common. I believe in you, buddy!"

Janus sighed. "Thanks, Pat. Say hi to Roman for me, tell him Monty misses him."

"Will do, nephew! Call any time you need, okay?"

"Love you, Pat."

"Love you tooooo!"

Janus realized he'd circled the block and was back at the apartment entrance. He steeled himself, then went back up. He repressed the petty urge to bang open the door to disturb Logan's quiet as much as possible.

Logan wasn't in the common spaces, but emerged not long after Janus returned.

"I feel I must apologize," he began. "It wasn't my intent to denigrate how you work. It is just clear that sharing a workspace is not going to be preferable for either of us."

"Yes, I'm aware I had a bad idea," Janus said, overly patient. "Kind of an odd apology, but I accept. Can I have lunch now?"

"Yes, of course. May I join you?" Logan asked.

Janus raised a distrusting brow.

"The idea of spending time in the same space was a good one. I thought we might try a context in which we don't need to focus."

"Fine."

They prepared food around each other, both managing to bite their tongues when they needed the same counter space or cooking implements, which Janus was proud of himself for. They ate in silence.

Janus heard Logan sigh in exasperation and braced himself for yet another snippy comment. Instead, he heard an unexpected question.

"Do you enjoy superheroes?"

"To eat? No, they upset my stomach," Janus replied drily.

"I mean to watch. Superhero movies and shows."

"Occasionally, yeah, why?"

"Perhaps we could watch one this evening. At the same time."

"Sure."

And they parted to continue working on their own.

⁂

Logan had been correct that, as far as superhero movies went, the MCU was a safe choice.

In retrospect, though, perhaps Civil War had been... less so.

It had started when Steve first objected to the Sokovia Accord plan- and Logan had scoffed.

Quick as a cat’s pounce, or an adder’s strike, Janus’ head whipped around. 

“You disagree?”

Logan glanced over briefly, screen light blinking off his glasses. “Well, of course. Didn’t New York and Sokovia show that some control is needed? Lawlessness leads to more civilian casualties.”

“And yet, if supers are controlled so much that risk of liability keeps them from acting at all, casualties would be just a tad higher, don’t you think?”

Tony and Steve’s voices raised on the screen as Logan replied, “What would the difference be of the villains and heroes if they all act with complete impunity?”

“Oh, I’m sorry, did we lose mens rea when we switched over into Marvel-land?” Janus asked, voice clipped. “Isn’t the entire basis of our modern penal system based on culpability, not just the act or harm done?”

Logan looked down his nose. “Of course culpability matters. But you well know that one of the factors for absolute liability is when an act is inherently and extremely dangerous. Say, for instance, displays of superhuman force in a densely populated area.”

“So you don’t think there can be any space for personal judgment on the heroes’ behalf?” Janus asked incredulously.

“Look what that space did already! Does the name Ultron ring a bell?”

“So of course, the one who made a terrible call is the one who now wants to be restricted? That sounds like asking for the global government to save him from himself instead of taking responsibility.”

“Better that those with actual accountability be the ones bearing the responsibility!”

“Oh, yeah, and we can definitely trust this government’s judgment! A Hydra infestation was all part of the plan!” Janus’ voice was raising, far louder than the movie that still flickered on, ignored.

“There still needs to be rule of law! Steve wants to abandon it all for one person, and a war criminal at that-!”

“And that’s incomprehensible?”

“Of course!”

Janus fixed his supposed soulmate with a glare. “And you mean to tell me that there’s no one, no one, that you would be willing to burn the world down for?”

Logan opened his mouth to respond, but Janus continued quickly before he could. “No one who won’t fight for themselves, because they think they’re not worth it, but you know they’re so worth it that you would be willing to kill for them?”

Logan, about to spit out an impulsive reply, paused, momentarily speechless. As clearly as if they were sitting on the edge of the couch next to him, his best friend from childhood filled his mind. Virgil, who never believed their worth no matter how many times Logan and their soulmate Remus told them so.

Janus saw the pause and continued softly. “I’m not saying rule of law isn’t important. But the trouble with laws is they’re only as tailored as legislators make them. And they’re human, and therefore fallible. We need exceptions, for those situations that they didn’t imagine.”

Logan struggled for moment, then replied, just as quietly, “You’re right.”

Janus’ mouth fell open in shock, but just as he did, the tv’s faint blue glow throughout the room was washed over with two beacons in blue and gold, blazing from their backs.

At the sight, Logan’s face went from contemplative and open to stony. He stood abruptly and stalked off into his room. The door closed behind him with a decisive click, and Janus was left staring at the wood in confusion and anger.

⁂

“I just don’t get it!” Janus whisper-screamed into the phone. He was power walking through a nearby park, moving so fast he’d passed a skateboarder and a particularly leisurely biker. “Does he want to keep on glowing forever? What is his problem?!”

Patton made sympathetic noises in response, quite familiar with the sound of Janus in full rant mode. Roman was lying with his head in his lap, listening on speaker, so Patton was settled in to be as receptive to his friend’s complaints as he needed.

“I mean, we finally agreed on something, besides the fact that we want to get this fucking resolved, and then he just, what, shuts me out? Literally and figuratively? I literally can’t even catch him leaving to the kitchen for food now!”

Patton winced. “Not since? But it’s been two days!”

“Two and a half, yeah,” Janus replied. His voice suddenly sounded weary. “I can’t keep doing this. The trial’s going on without us anyway, I might as well just give it up and make sure I never have to argue against him again.”

At that, Roman sat bolt upright. “Janus, my dear esquire! You cannot abandon your quest! This is your soulmate!”

“Yeah, well. Maybe some soulmarks are broken. Or we just met at the wrong time. Maybe if we’d met in law school we would have been a team, but now it’s too late.”

Janus sounded contemptuous, but Patton could hear a distinct note of regret.

“Maybe...” he started, but trailed off, thinking.

“Maybe what, Pat?”

“Well, it’s just that I’ve heard of soulmates who, you know, take an abnormally long time to bond, or manage to un-bond after years together, but they can fix it. Do you remember my old roommate?”

Janus wrinkled his nose. “Patton, are you suggesting couple’s therapy? I’m fairly certain that only applies to couples.”

“Well, you’ve kinda been forced to be one, right? At least to figure out bonding? They could probably help, or at least let you know if it’s not worth the effort.”

Janus sighed. “No, you’re right, it’s a good idea. I just have no idea how I’ll get Finch to go along with it.”

“Might I make a suggestion?” Roman asked politely. 

“Sure.”

“Perhaps try calling him ‘Logan.’”

Janus rolled his eyes. “Worth a shot, I guess. Love you both.”

“Love you Jan!”

“Best of luck with the love of your soul!”

 Back in the apartment, Logan was pacing in precise squares in his bedroom. He half-expected the rug to be worn down by the repeated impact at this point. 

“L, I don’t know what to tell you, buddy,” the gravely voice on the phone said. “You really have only two options here: find a way to avoid him forever, which will probably involve having to turn down cases you’d like-“

“I bet he’d stay on them just to force me off,” Logan interrupted, growling. 

“That is a possibility,” Virgil replied, their voice overly patient. “The other option, though, is to work this out,” they continued. 

Logan scoffed.

“Lo, that doesn’t mean you’ve gotta turn into a Hallmark movie! But it’s clear this isn’t just going away, and it’s not like you’ve got nothing in common.”

Logan groaned. “Virge, I don’t-“

“I know, man. I know. But you can’t just hide in your room until he just decides to move out, which means you’re gonna have to talk to him at some point.”

Logan didn’t reply, just continued pacing. 

“You know I’m right, Lo,” Virgil said patiently. “You don’t have to say it, just promise me you’re not going to keep being a hermit, okay?”

Logan sighed. “I promise.”

“There we go. I’ll talk to you later, okay?”

About to hang up, Logan heard a voice in the background and Virgil asked him to wait.  Then, “Reme wants to say hi.”

Logan let out an exasperated sigh, but he was smiling. “Fine, I’ll allow it-“

“Loooogggyyyyy! How’s the soulmate boning going? Have you figured out that you’re a power bottom yet?”

“Hello, Remus. I take it you’re well.”

“Let’s just say I’m glad you’re my brother-in-law because I may have some need for a lawyer soon.”

Logan couldn’t conceal the grin from his voice as he replied, “As I know you know, I am not a defense attorney, nor would I ever be so unwise as to take you as a client.”

“Aww, you’re such a smart cookie! And by cookie I mean a snack, because mmmm-MMMm you’re a snacc!”

“Always glad to know I’m appreciated,” Logan replied drily. “Goodbye, Virgil. Goodbye, Remus.”

“See ya, L.”

“Byeeeeeeeeeee!”

⁂

When Janus returned, he was a bit taken aback to see Logan sitting in an armchair, reading. At the sound of the door, he looked up. 

“Ah, Alighieri. I- I wanted to apologize for my behavior.”

Janus paused. It was a good sign, but still so unexpected as to be unsettling.

Logan cleared his throat. “I shouldn’t have left you in a lurch. You did not cause this situation anymore than did I, and you have not been unkind. I have a suggestion for how we might move forward.”

Janus winced internally, thinking of another disastrous attempt at a movie or workspace. “I actually had a thought on that as well, but um. What was yours?”

Logan cleared his throat again. “Well, since we have been... brought into this situation together, but as a pair are struggling to adjust, it seems logical to consult with an expert, much as we would in our work. Therefore, we should consult a professional on personal relationships.”

“Oh, thank god,” muttered Janus. “Yeah, I was gonna suggest a couples counselor too. I think that would make sense. And I actually have a personal reference to a very experienced therapist.”

That settled, they found the earliest possible appointment, only two days later. 

“I do need to warn you-“ Janus said as they walked up to the office. It was their first time out of the apartment together, and it had been a very quiet walk over. “The methods of this therapist are- unorthodox. But they are highly acclaimed in their field.”

“Oh, are they an enby?” Logan asked. 

“Yes and no,” Janus replied. “You see, there’s two of them.”

“Two?”

“Yeah, they’re a couple therapist that is also a couple.”

“I don’t- well- I mean, that’s odd, right?”

Janus grinned. “Yeah, odd is a common word to describe them. But they’re highly praised and like I said, they were recommended personally.”

“Right,” Logan said, squaring his shoulders. “An open mind is helpful for effective therapy, after all.”

“That’s the spirit! I think,” Janus replied, holding the door open.

A gothy receptionist showed them to a private room with a comfortably large couch. Logan looked around in trepidation and slight alarm at the decorations. There were countless Funko-Pops, posters, stuffed animals, and an alarmingly high number of travel mugs from what looked like every single cartoon that had ever existed.

Janus was slightly more prepared then Logan, but he still jumped out of his skin by the sudden singing coming around the door. A deep voice was booming, “Duhhh duh-duh-duh-duh-da-DUH!” in a building crescendo that went on and on, until both lawyers were staring in a mixture of confusion and irritation.

Then a tall, lanky man slid in the door and lowered his glasses to wink at them both. “Hey babes. Welcome to therapy.” 

The singer followed him through the door, their bright pink hair a sharp contrast to their warm brown skin. “And thank you as always for the intro, honey!”

They smiled, big and toothy. “Welcome indeed! I’m Dr. Emile Picani, pronouns they/them, and this tall drink of coffee is my partner, Dr. Remy Picani, pronouns he/him! And you are Janus and Logan, correct?”

Logan looked a bit stunned still, so Janus took the lead. “Yes, I’m Janus Alighieri and this is Logan Finch, pronouns he/him for both. And I was referred by Patton Corwan-Augustus.” 

Emile smiled even bigger, if that were possible. “Oh Patty! Best roommate ever, I still miss his brownies. It’s lovely to meet you both!”

“Best roommate? What am I, chopped liver?” Remy asked, hand pressed to his chest. 

“Best friend, best coffee-maker, best of men and best of husbands,” Emile replied, and said husband immediately blushed.

Logan coughed politely. “Have you been married long?”

Remy smiled, still pink around the edges. “We’ve actually been married almost 10 years. The minute we graduated university, actually, when we knew our parents had not a shred left of financial control. We went through our PhDs together, which is why, of course, we’re qualified to help out other couples, because let me tell you, would not recommend.”

“Which brings us, of course, to you two!” Emile said brightly. “What is your goal in coming to therapy?”

Janus and Logan both began speaking at once.

“Well, it started in court-“

“It was completely unexpected, we’ve known each other for years-“

“-dreadfully embarrassing, not to mention the professional ramifications-“

“-it just feels like something’s missing-“

“-really want to just sort this out-“

“-just want to figure out the disconnect-“

“-and we can forget about the whole thing.”

“-want to make this work.”

They looked at each other, shocked, as their words both sank in.

Emile was tapping their Powerpuff Girls pencil topper steadily against their lips, eyes wide behind their pink-framed glasses. 

Remy, at their side, leaned back and took a long, loud slurp of his iced coffee, rattling the ice around until the room’s attention was on him. Then he looked up and said, “Hoooo-wheee.”

“So I’m getting a lot of differing goals here,” Emile said delicately. “Let’s start with you, Janus. Can you expand, please?”

Janus tried to speak, but felt like his voice had dropped into the cold pit that was suddenly his stomach. “I, um,” he started with a shaky breath. He barely noticed when Remy pushed a cup of ice water into his hand, but a sip steadied him somewhat.

“You can look just at me, if that helps,” Emile said softly. “Or at my buddy Kaa here.” They gestured to the stuffed snake on the shelf behind them. 

He looked like a fuzzy little Monty. That would do. 

“Thank you, Doctor,” Janus said, acknowledging the water from Remy. “So. We’ve been rival lawyers for years, because we’re both the best at what we do. It was shocking, to suddenly be glowing in open court, but I thought we just needed to find common ground that’s not arguing. That’s why I’m here, at least.”

“And Logan?” Emile asked, still in that kind voice. Logan wouldn’t meet their eyes, though, or anyone’s.

“I thought- we both seemed so upset by the news. Or at least, I was, and perceived you to be as well.” He didn’t look up as he addressed Janus, but his eyes shifted over and took root on Janus’ polished loafers. “My plan was to spend whatever time was needed to stop glowing, then get back to our respective lives.”

“Do either of you have a question you’d like to ask of one another?” Remy asked. “It can be as large or small scale as you’d like, serious or frivolous.”

Both men looked up at the lanky therapist, who’d actually removed his dark glasses, revealing slightly foggy-looking irises. “Logan, it looks like you have one.”

“Oh- yes. So, Alighieri- I mean, Janus. To be clear- you were not upset by the news?”

Janus took a breath. “I mean, I was shocked, and upset to be removed in the middle of a case. But not about the soulmate thing, specifically. And I have a question too?” He looked to the therapists, who both nodded.

Janus looked over, and saw the Logan was watching him in his periphery. “When you say you were upset about the news- was it about the soulmate thing, or about me as your soulmate?”

Logan actually sat up, looking shocked. “Oh, goodness gracious. Absolutely about the concept of ‘soulmate’ in general, not personal in any way. Did I-?”

“Well, yeah, a bit,” Janus said.

“I am- I am so sorry. I would have absolutely have been equally upset, no matter who I found to be an accidental soulmate.”

Janus felt his stomach unclench just a bit.

“Logan, what about soulmates in general upsets you?” Emile asked.

Logan’s mouth pressed into a thin line, and he stayed silent for a moment, then two. Finally, he said curtly, “I never asked for one. And no one asked if I wanted one, either.”

“No one asked if I wanted to be trans, and yet here I am,” Emile said with a cheeky grin. “We don’t always get a say over the circumstances of our birth.”

“But Emmy, you’ve found self-acceptance and happiness deriving from coming out,” Remy put in. “Logan, were you content with life before this reveal?”

Logan nodded. 

“So there was no sense of dysphoria prior, or absence of a euphoria that was gained since.” 

Again, Logan nodded.

“Couldn’t-“ Janus began. His throat felt a bit stuck. “Couldn’t there be something to be gained, though?”

Logan picked up a small figurine of Dexter from the table next to the couch, and fiddled with it in his lap as he spoke. “It’s not impossible, there could certainly be gains from a better acquaintance with you. But that’s not what a soulmate is supposed to be, is it? They’re supposed to complete you,” he said, his voice dripping in disdain. “Because you were incomplete before. Because you weren’t enough, alone, you were just waiting for the One. And of course, you can’t be trusted to find them yourself, some cosmic force determines it for you.”

Remy rested his hand in his hand, elbow propped on his knee. “Spill it, sis.”

Logan stared in confusion. 

Remy smiled. “It means, approximately, ‘continue, you’ve got something good to say’. I’m getting a lot here- but a lot of the frustration seems to be with the idea that forces you can’t control are messing with your life, is that fair?”

Logan shifted. “Well, yeah, but that makes me sound like a control freak.”

“Not at all,” Janus interrupted. “Of course you don’t want something incomprehensible to make decisions for you. That’s not controlling, that’s perfectly understandable and human!”

Logan managed a small smile in response.

Emile beamed. “I couldn’t have said it better myself!”

“But I am def gonna poke some holes in your thought bubble,” Remy said cheerfully. “Starting with this: what do you mean when you say a soulmate is intended to be The One?”

Logan stared in disbelief. “Come on. Really? Look at, I don’t know, any piece of media ever. Or at you two. Or at my- friend and his husband. Or any other pair of soulmates!”

Janus added, “I mean, that’s what’s intended, right? With the whole ���marked from birth’ thing?”

Emile looked at them both very seriously. “Did you know that Remy isn’t The One for me?”

“But he’s your soulmate?” Janus gasped out.

Emile nodded gravely. “He is my soulmate. But he is not my only soulmate.”

“I was designated female at birth to very traditional parents. They wanted me to marry my soulmate at 18, like they had, and they assumed he’d be a man. But my other soulmate was a girl, and I loved her with all my heart. And when I realized I wasn’t a girl, I thought my parents might accept us more. I was wrong.” They took a breath. “We were separated. I don’t know what happened to her. But it was enough to know that my parents didn’t care about my happiness, soulmate or no.”

“I’m so sorry,” Logan said quietly, and Janus nodded, swallowing a lump in his throat. 

“I was lucky, though,” they continued. “I found Remy only two years later. And he accepted me as I am, both my gender and my other soulmate. And the cartoons, of course.”

“I never got to meet her,” Remy said. “So we will never know if she was my soulmate, too. I choose to believe she wasn’t. I think she could have been Emile’s one and only, had they been able to stay together. And that doesn’t make me feel any less lucky to be Emile’s husband, nor any less loved by them.”

“And not to shock you even more, but not all soulmates are romantic,” Emile said. “I know that’s the media portrayal- but well, the media is also pretty straight. And cis. And white. And neurotypical. And-”

“What they’re getting at,” Remy interrupted, “is that common portrayals miss a lot of the variety and complexity of humanity as a whole, let alone the complexity of relationships.”

Logan was sitting very still, and not speaking. Janus was trying to wrap his mind around this, and spoke with uncharacteristic uncertainty as he asked, “So- for instance, um, you could have soulmates who are, uh, queerplatonic partners?”

Logan’s head snapped up, staring at Janus with wide eyes.

Remy grinned. “Yes, of course! I was worried I was going to have to do a vocab lesson, but you both seem to know what that is.”

“But-“ Janus began, brows furrowing.

“But that means-“ Logan muttered to himself.

“Why isn’t he my soulmate?” Janus asked, at the same time Logan asked, “Why aren’t they my soulmate?”

Lit by the twin glows reflecting against the wall, the therapist couple exchanged a pregnant look. Emile reached out and took a hand of each patient. “I know this is a lot to process, but I really want you to keep something in mind: a soulmate is not the only way we can love someone. It’s not the ‘best’ way or only valid way to love someone. The same way the platonic love you clearly both hold for a significant person in your life is no less valid than romantic.”

Remy sat up straight. “I want you both to think about this when you go home. Your love for your QPPs is wonderful, and worth cherishing. And I know you are both lawyers, so here’s a question for you to brief. We cannot know the actual intent of whatever force gave you marks that respond to each other. So I want to you look for what evidence there might be, in each other, for your connection.”

Emile added on, “You have a link, and it’s worth exploring. It doesn’t have to ever be more important, more meaningful than another connection you have. But understanding it is critical to bonding successfully.”

“I think we should wrap there, for this week,” Remy added. “But you can talk about this, of course, without us.”

Janus and Logan nodded, and left. The walk home was as quiet as the walk there had been, but this time the air thrummed with thoughts and ponderings.

⁂

Janus and Logan made dinner with relatively little talk, only quiet asks to pass a spice or a cooking implement. It wasn't an uncomfortable quiet, but one where their minds were far too loud to vocalize just yet.

Janus quietly suggested putting on TV, and picked the game show network as a neutral, unobjectionable option.

They ate as they watched, still burdened with their own thoughts, but slowly started to murmur the correct questions under their breath before the Jeopardy contestants were able to.

Final Jeopardy, as luck would have it, was on Latin - but specifically, Latin as used in law. Both attorneys chuckled at the contestants' answers, some of which weren't even close to correct.

Janus directed a cautious smile in Logan's direction, and found it reciprocated. But as he saw that familiar glow start to reflect off the walls, he tensed, waiting for Logan flee once more.

For the first time, though, he didn't. His eyes widened as he took in the lights, but he didn't move to stand or leave.

"About today-" Logan began. "I don't know that I am quite ready to discuss it all, but I did want to once again apologize for my handling of this situation, and its emotional impact on you. It was entirely unintentional, but I regret causing you distress."

"Thank you," Janus replied softly. "And thank you for being willing and open to go to counseling. I learned a lot today, all of it important."

"I'd like to talk about it tomorrow, if you'd be willing," Logan added. "There are some additional details I need to share, but I don't think I'm able at the present moment."

"Sounds good," Janus nodded. "I'm going to turn in for the night. Sleep well."

"You as well."

But despite feeling tired, Janus found he wasn't at all sleepy. He ended up sitting up until the wee hours of the morning, stroking Monty gently and thinking a great deal.

⁂

The next morning, Janus woke up much earlier than his usual habit, but he needn't have worried - Logan was clearly waiting for him in the kitchen, sipping coffee and idly solving the entire Sunday crossword.

He looked up at the sound of Janus' door, and indicated the mostly-full coffee pot with a nod. Janus gratefully filled a mug for himself and lightened it thoroughly with cream, drinking deep as he stood angled so that he could offer critique and suggestions on the crossword.

"No, shush," Janus said, though Logan had not spoken. "It's gotta be White. Y'know, Betty? C'mon. Most-loved Gold? It's obvious."

Logan just smiled and penned in “White” in the horizontal boxes, immediately able to fill in the Down clues crossing them.

Once the puzzle was complete, Janus refilled his coffee and sat properly at the kitchen island. 

"So, if you're amenable-" Logan began. "I believe I'm prepared to discuss yesterday in more detail."

Janus nodded. "Did you want to start off?"

"Yes, I think I must. Because there was one detail that I wasn't quite prepared to share that I think will be quite helpful in securing a full understanding."

At Janus' encouraging nod, Logan closed his eyes to take a breath, and said, "The truth is, I'm an aromantic asexual. That's why the concept of a soulmate was so upsetting to me, particularly because up until this week I had assumed I didn't have one."

Janus looked down. "I'm ace, too, but not aro, and... yeah, same boat, mostly. I thought I wouldn't have one, but when we started to glow, I assumed it must be romantic. But that must not be the case."

Logan tented his fingers together. "So you're not aro, but you do have a QPP?"

"Yeah - I definitely can experience romantic attraction, but what I feel for Patton has always been stronger, and different."

"I'd like to hear about him, if you'd be willing," Logan said softly, and was rewarded by a smile that seemed about to glow as brightly as his soulmark on Janus' face.

"Oh, he's just the best," Janus gushed. "I met him at the perfect time in my life. I'd just been dumped by an asshole because he couldn't deal with the fact that the asexual part wasn't just me being a tease. I was feeling pretty low, post-college, all alone in a new apartment, and then this beam of sunshine turns out to be the kind of neighbor who brings cookies as a greeting. Even though I wasn't exactly receptive, he just kept coming back, even just to check up on me, and soon I found myself looking forward to it, and then inviting myself over in return."

Logan paused. "Wait, your ex broke up with you because you were ace? Was it a surprise?"

Janus rolled his eyes. "No, not in the least. I'd told him, and reminded him, and he'd just been assuming I would 'get over it,' the fucker. Right after the breakup, there were times I wondered if he was right, if I should have just powered through my repulsion to make him happy. But Patton was amazing about that, too. When he heard what happened - oh my goodness, he was so angry on my behalf, he looked like he was going to Hulk out. And then he made it his mission to make sure I was being validated in my identity and knew that I was eminently lovable both in spite of and because of my aceness."

Logan smiled. "That's wonderful. I can see why you love him so much."

Janus sighed happily. "And it hasn't changed even though he's met his allo soulmate. Roman knows that our bond isn't and will never be a threat to theirs, and he makes Pat so happy. They're planning their wedding right now, but they've already signed all the papers and it'll just be a party where they gush about each other in public."

Janus sat for a moment, basking in the glow of his affection for Patton, before he turned to Logan and asked, “You have a QPP too, right?”

“I do,” Logan said, a smile stretching across his face unconsciously. “Their name is Virgil. And they’re also married to their soulmate.”

“Tell me about them,” Janus said, when Logan fell silent. 

“They’re- they are just amazing. They’re my best friend, have been since about fourth grade. ” Logan’s eyes went a bit misty as he considered his childhood. “We bonded over being surrounded by idiots, after a debate simulation where we were on opposing sides.”

Janus smirked. “You mean I’m not your first? I’m heartbroken.”

Logan shot him a glare, but it had none of true anger’s heat.

“I guess we always had the feeling that we weren’t quite like everyone else. Besides the introverted tendencies, it wasn’t really a shock when they came out as nonbinary. They’d been online, discovering new terms, and in learning about their identity I ran into the aro and ace labels. I felt seen,��do you know what I mean? And then Virgil just compounded that feeling by immediately understanding and accepting me. They call me a brother, just to explain that our relationship isn’t “just” friends.”

“What was it like when they met their soulmate?” Janus asked. 

“It wasn’t nearly as smooth as your experience seems to have been,” Logan admitted.

“Their husband is... unique. Prone to rather odd fixations and interests. But he’s also demisexual, and like us, had thought he wouldn’t have a soulmate. And part of his defense mechanism against that kind of rejection was, well. Embracing his off-putting side. Being disgusting for the sake of it. Grossing out others before they could judge him for his orientation.”

Janus grimaced. “I know that feeling, all too well. Donning a mask, so that a rejection won’t be of you, just your persona.”

“Exactly,” Logan said, nodding. “I don’t think it helped that both Virgil’s and Remus’ soulmarks were in their hair. They’d both dyed their hair many times over the years, but it wasn’t enough to hide it. And once they had shown up- there was no more pretending.”

“Was it hard for them?” Janus asked. 

“Accepting it was. But then they started actually talking and then it just- clicked. All those macabre interests that overlapped, the mutual obsession with MCR. They fell in love the minute they both let their walls down. And like you said- it never really changed what I had with Virge. They didn’t meet Reme until college, and didn’t get married until last year. So Virge told Reme that I was here to stay, and part of their life, and he accepted it without a blink. He’s a forensic archeologist now, to Virge’s forensic detective, so they’ve actually both been helpful in cases, too.”

“That’s... kind of adorable, in a weird way,” Janus said, scrunching his nose. 

Logan chuckled. “‘Adorable in a weird way’ is the best possible description for their relationship.”

Janus tapped his finger on the island. “That sounds so familiar, though, and I can’t quite place it.” He closed his eyes, murmuring under his breath. “Wait! Is Virgil’s husband an Augustus?”

“That was his surname, yes, though now it’s Angelico-“

“Oh my god!” Janus burst out. “That’s Patton’s brother-in-law!”

“What?”

“Roman Augustus! That’s his soulmate’s name! And he had a twin, but they had a falling out and haven’t been in contact for a couple of years. But he said he’d been in forensics!”

Logan blinked. “Well, it is certainly a small world. Not that Remus has ever talked about his brother, but I knew he had one.”

“That’s kind of crazy. What are the chances?” Janus asked, laughing. 

Logan looked pointedly over. “Do you really want to know? I could calculate them-“

“Thanks, calculator watch, but I’m good.”

They both chuckled quietly, sitting side by side at the kitchen island. 

“Hey, uh- thank you for trusting me, with the other day, and with this,” Janus said softly. 

“I owe you thanks as well,” Logan replied. “I don’t frequently have the opportunity to talk about Virgil in detail and it’s- it’s nice.”

Janus just beamed, returning the sentiment without words. 

In that moment, the sunlight of the room was tinged with colored light, gold and blue overlapping into rich emerald.

Logan hesitated, seeing it, but after a moment lifted his arm. Janus smiled and leaned in, accepting the offered side-hug.

“Hey Finch- I mean, Logan?”

“Yes Janus?”

“I may not be sure yet why we’re soulmates, but I’m definitely not disappointed that we are.”

A beat.

Then a soft murmur replied, “Neither am I.”

⁂

Later that afternoon, Logan returned from stocking up on more food to find Janus lying upside-down on the couch, lanky legs dangling over the back. His face was red enough to show that he’d been sitting there for a while as the blood rushed downward.

“I cannot imagine that is at all comfortable,” Logan commented drily, neatly putting away the packets of noodles and snacks he’d purchased.

“It helps me think,” Janus replied. “Especially when I’m trying to see something from another perspective.”

Logan’s eyes narrowed. “This better not have been a set-up just to make that terrible pun.”

Janus looked over, grinning. “It actually started that way, not gonna lie. I’d been venting to Patton about an oral argument simulation in law school and he suggested this as a joke. And then it actually helped.”

Logan huffed in what sounded suspiciously like a muffled laugh and came to sit more normally in a chair next to the couch. “So what is it that you’re trying to change your perception of so literally?”

“Our case, actually - Gomex.” At Logan’s quizzical look, he replied, “The partners aren’t letting me onto new cases until they know I’ll be back in person. I’m getting bored. So I thought, you know. Why not figure out what I was missing in this one.” He shrugged, an odd contortion for an inverted torso.

“You were missing something? But you won at trial.”

“And I was caught off-guard by your appeal - or at least, the part where it survived my motion to dismiss.”

Logan allowed himself a satisfied smirk. “Surprised you with my impeccable research, did I? All my rock-solid precedent pointing out the clear error in the original jury instruction?”

Janus’ legs kicked idly in the air. “Your research is always impeccable. Of course you were able to find precedent on-point for the general issue, you’re good at this. But the facts of the case are just so different that how could any of those past rulings be definitive?”

Logan leaned back in his chair, tapping the arm pensively. “Wait, so you really believe that? It wasn’t just a tactic to make Gomex feel like they’re getting their money’s worth for your legal fees?”

Janus finally righted himself, sitting upright with a leg balancing on the coffee table. “Well, yeah , of course I do. I don’t take the time and effort to go to trial for bullshit unless the client can’t be talked down from combat mode. Racking up charges for unnecessary trial prep is only fun when they don’t take my advice.” He looked quizzically at Logan. “So you really didn’t see the difference between Gomex and, what, Sourgoutsis?”

“No material difference, no. It’s in the right circuit, it’s recent and binding, and it established a test that clearly applies here.”

“But the test requires knowledge!”

“Knowing includes reckless disregard for the truth, and Gomex had that.”

“Oh, you can hardly say it’s reckless when all the claims were paid without issue for a decade!”

Logan leaned forward, counting off points on his fingers. “The guidance is updated each year. The commentary points out the changes. Gomex has to certify as a company that they accept all current guidance and direction. If they didn’t actually know they were submitting false claims, they should have known, and had a duty to know.”

Janus’ eyes were flashing, but more with excitement than anger. “But even the commentary didn’t clarify that these specific claims would no longer be accepted in the future. Doesn’t the agency have a duty to be clear about changes in accepted policy when the code is so vast and companies used past claims as standards for future approval?”

“But the companies are the experts in their own industries. They should know that these kind of differences are significant and material.”

Janus sat up fully straight, pointing enthusiastically. “That’s it!”

“What’s it?”

“I figured it out! It is a matter of perspective. But not the perspective of side versus side, like I was thinking. It’s time.”

Logan leaned in, leaning his elbows on his knees. “Expand, please.”

Janus nodded, mirroring Logan’s pose even as his hands remained free to gesture. “So you’re looking at this as: company knows their procedures best, they’re the ones making profit off it, so their duty to know details is higher than the public agency. Right?”

Logan nodded.

“Here’s where I’m coming from - it’s not a question of if this company knew or should have known this distinction, or even if this industry has the expertise that the agency lacks. It’s about what this case would do to the Sourgoutsis test for cases in the future. If the agency doesn’t have to clarify a policy change now, why would it ever? If it’s not enough that companies rely on a long history of approval here, when will it ever be? Do you follow, Logan?”

Logan linked his fingers, tapping the tips of his forefingers gently. “So your concern is about using a history of compliance as evidence of good faith?”

“Exactly, yes.”

“But Gomex knew that the change meant the compliant history was no longer relevant.”

“Only because they had insider knowledge of the change process. Not from the public information.”

“Wait, so you agree that Gomex knew?”

Janus grinned sheepishly, baring all his teeth. “Well, we’re both off the case now, so- yeah. They knew or should have known their claims would get rejected and banked on the agency not noticing for just long enough.”

Logan gasped. “But you still went into court and got the jury to agree with you that they didn’t!?”

Janus shrugged pragmatically. “It’s not about Gomex, it’s about the precedent this will set. I’d rather one bad actor get away with it now than have who-knows-how-many claims get screwed in the future for a good-faith misunderstanding.”

“Especially if that bad actor is paying you millions to help them get away with it?” Logan asked with an eyebrow raised.

Janus raised one of his own. “So you’d rather let a bad test become binding because the agency is paying you millions to get it set in stone?”

Logan, about to respond hotly, paused. “I suppose that’s a fair assessment. I didn’t think it was that bad a test until now - I assumed the insider knowledge would be baked into the standard.”

“You gotta think cynically, Mr. Finch,” Janus said with a chuckle. “Picture the worst-faith application and work backwards from there, cause you know it’ll end up happening.”

“Hmm,” Logan said with a quiet laugh. “When you’re right, you’re right.”

Janus fluttered his lashes. “The great Logan Finch thinks I’m right about something. My life’s goal is achieved.”

“Hey, I think you’re correct quite a lot!” Logan objected. “Infuriatingly precise and pedantic, sure, but ultimately right. There’s a reason my firm sends me against you - no one else wants to fight what’ll be a losing battle half the time.”

“Only half?”

“Even you must admit I’ve been correct on more than one occasion,” Logan said with a smile.

“That is true,” Janus admitted. “Knowing that you’re going to be the opposing counsel always makes me up my game.”

“The feeling’s mutual,” Logan said wryly. “I’d never admit it to the other partners, but you make me a better lawyer, Janus.”

The flattered glow of Janus’ grin was immediately dwarfed by two other, brighter bursts of light. Gold and blue pulsed from their backs in a flash, then settled into steady light. The colors lit the stylish room, blending to emerald as they pulsed in time with each man’s heartbeat. Logan looked at the glow reflected on the white couch cushions with wonder as he realized that Janus’ back  was no longer shining blue, but green. He caught his eyes and realized his own glow must have changed colors as well.

The lights pulsed more and more gently until they dimmed and went out, leaving Janus and Logan sitting across from one another just as the last of the sunlight fell below the horizon and the room went dark. 

The silence stretched for several moments, until Janus finally broke it with a bemused, “Huh.”

“So that was-”

“I think so.

“So now we’re-”

“Bonded, yeah. I think.”

“That would be a logical assumption.”

The silence returned, each man lost in his own thoughts. When they spoke again, it was at once.

“Maybe we should-”

“Perhaps we could still-”

“-make sure it’s permanent?

“-take a few days more?”

They shared a grin.

“A couple more days couldn’t hurt,” Janus said. “After all, it could be a fluke. We wouldn’t want to set a standard from a mere fluke.”

“Oh, of course not,” Logan responded with the same tone of amusement. “We want to confirm the integrity of the test.”

Janus stood to flick on a light, then turned as a thought occurred. 

“Wait, Logan - even once we go back, we won’t be able to be opposing counsel anymore. The soulmate code will still be applied, even though we’re not romantic or QP soulmates.”

Logan’s face fell for a moment, then lit up once more as he stood. “Well, we’ve got a couple days at least. I think the two best lawyers in the state might be able to argue that every precedent has an exception, don’t you, Mr. Alighieri?”

Janus’ smile mirrored Logan’s own as he replied, “Why yes, Mr. Finch, I think we might.”

[shihalyfie]

02′s influence on Adventure

You’re probably reading the title and going “...what? Isn’t 02 the sequel to Adventure? How would a series be influenced by its own future sequel?”

The thing is, assuming that Adventure was written in a vacuum and everything in 02 a retrofit runs very contrary to how both series were produced, and how this kind of anime is produced in general -- Adventure and 02 share almost identical staff members, and were separated only by a real-life single week in airing time. 02′s existence was not a sudden last-minute decision that was tacked on at the end! In fact, Adventure being extended to a second series was decided seven months into its production, right around the end of the Tokyo arc (sometime around the third cour). Despite it being a rather tonally different series, 02 is really just Adventure’s staff...writing more.

This means that by the time production had moved to Adventure’s final arc, the staff was very aware that they would be on for another year writing a sequel to this anime -- which thus likely became the fuel behind many of its creative decisions, made specifically to pave the way for 02.

The ending

Yeah, so, this ending. You know this really famous ending? The one that’s had such an impact on franchise history that a lot of later things have even tried to imitate it in some form? The one that everyone cites as one of Adventure’s most famous scenes (for good reason)? This ending only exists because of 02. You know what actually would have been Adventure’s ending if 02 hadn’t existed?

The 02 epilogue.

The ending that we now know as the “02 epilogue” was actually decided on before recording for Adventure had even started. (They weren’t even sure about finalizing the character personalities yet!) All of the most substantial details about that epilogue -- the series actually being the adult Takeru’s novel, everyone in the world having a Digimon partner, and, as it seems, even Yamato and Sora getting married -- were decided on before 02 was even in the picture.  Most likely, the only material difference would have been that the four characters introduced in 02 (Daisuke, Miyako, Iori, and Ken) and their partners wouldn’t have been involved, but everything else would have roughly been the same as the “epilogue” we know now. (This especially makes sense when you consider that one of Adventure’s major influences was the movie Stand By Me, which is extremely culturally influential in Japan as a “childhood summer adventure story”, and involves a similar timeskip epilogue with one character growing up to chronicle the story as a writer.) All of this was basically intended to tie into Adventure as a narrative of “a story of humanity’s evolution”, so this ending was envisioned as the “natural conclusion” of the story of Adventure as a whole. If anything from the original Adventure ending would have been retained in this hypothetical scenario of only Adventure existing, perhaps the sentiment of “parting” at the end -- but then it would still be followed by a timeskip epilogue 28 years later and everyone in the world having a partner.

But then it was decided that a second series would be made, and at some point they decided it would be a series set three years after the first, resulting in: this.

What this means is that Adventure’s ending was only ever intended as an ending for a single chapter in the overall Adventure series narrative. A lot of people like to pose 02′s existence or epilogue as something that “undid” Adventure’s ending, as if it was supposed to be some “ambiguous bittersweet” ending about whether they ever met their partners again, but...that ignores the real-life context of Adventure and 02′s production, where Our War Game! (which depicted an easy reunion with their partners, went out of its way to cameo Miyako in advance, and, for all intents and purposes, practically spoiled Adventure’s ending by depicting them as separated at all) screened before Adventure’s last episode aired, and there’s also the Adventure mini dramas that depicted more incidental meetings (and despite the constant fourth wall breaking and absurd crack content in them, yes, they’re intended to be taken as canon).

Again: in real life, the first episode of 02 aired one week after the last episode of Adventure. Even the real-life audience was likely well aware that this wasn’t going to be the end (and if they weren’t, they certainly would be when the promotional trailers for 02 started airing right after Adventure’s last -- and that’s assuming you missed all of the promotion appearing in real life beforehand, including at the end of Our War Game!’s screenings). The production staff all knew, because they’d already been working on 02 for months now -- they postponed their originally intended ending just to make this new one, after all!

So yeah, this line isn’t supposed to be just a vague “oh, maybe they’ll meet again” in an abstract poetic sense -- it’s completely literal, because it’s hinting at said gate opening again one real-life week later.

From both a story perspective and a real-life audience perspective, this ending was never meant to be seen as ambiguous.

Takeru and Hikari’s character arcs

02 often gets an accusation of being lacking in the character development department (one that I seriously disagree with and have been working very hard to counter), but this accusation especially gets levied often at Takeru and Hikari, who are often said to be “flat” or “kind of just there” in 02 (which, again, I object to; more on this below). This is often rationalized as a theory that the writers didn’t know what to do with them because they’d already been in Adventure, but...this, again, assumes too much that Adventure was written in a self-contained vacuum and anything in 02 was just an addition done after the fact.

There’s actually quite a bit of evidence that the last cour (or at least a significant amount of it) was written with the idea that Takeru and Hikari were going to be starring in the next series in mind.

This is especially pretty apparent when you get to the last episode, where Takeru and Hikari are conspicuously the ones to leave off on the most confident “we’ll meet again” notes, compared to the other six. Of course, they do it in their own respective ways (Takeru and Patamon resolve to make it happen, while Hikari cryptically acts like it’s already bound to happen, borderline prophetically), and maybe you could chalk it up to the fact that they’re the youngest and therefore most naive of this group...but, again, remember: 02′s first episode aired one week after this one, where we would immediately be treated to Takeru and Hikari following up on this. Given that, you can basically see this as a wink and a nod: “yeah, these two have a story that’s not over yet.”

And as much as I may sound like a heathen to the fanbase by claiming this, I would actually say that it’s the opposite of the above claim: Takeru and Hikari both have pretty unresolved arcs by the end of Adventure compared to the rest of the other kids, and in fact are fleshed out more in 02. It’s honestly kind of a stretch to say that they “already got development” in Adventure -- Takeru still has a ton of unresolved issues with his family and trauma and emotional behavior that aren’t properly addressed to nearly the same degree as how the older kids have their core issues brought to the forefront, while Hikari really was only around for less than half the series, and not only is her main problem of emotional suppression told purely from Taichi’s mouth and not her own, we also get no real follow-up on how she intends to work past that.

Those are some pretty huge things to leave unresolved at the end of a series that’s known for its focus on individual character development, and considering that the premise of 02 involving an older Takeru and Hikari was likely finalized around the middle of the last arc of Adventure, it’s easy to believe that they decided to deliberately hold off on resolving Takeru and Hikari’s issues in full so that their story could be told in the next series. And, indeed, while their characters being built on “being difficult to read” makes their development not quite as visible as some of the more eccentric personalities in the 02 cast, their respective Jogress partners (Iori and Miyako) more openly discuss and get to the bottom of their issues that had been lightly displayed or hinted in Adventure but never truly been addressed.

A lot of things that were not in Adventure

Adventure was admittedly kind of written as they went along (they didn’t even originally plan to have Hikari as the eighth child at first), so it’s hard to tell exactly what was planned and what was a later addition (and at what point things were added), but considering that the 02 epilogue was one of the first things planned in the entire series, as part of “a story of humanity’s evolution” and tying into a really long theory about partners doubling every year, it’s probably at least safe to say that a lot of the worldbuilding and lore was determined very early.

02 added a lot of lore dumps about Digital World mechanics and things related to the overall state of Chosen Children, which have been said by many to be retrofits to justify a buildup to the 02 epilogue, but, again -- the 02 epilogue was supposed to be for Adventure, so it’s very likely that these lore aspects were intended for Adventure as well! This is especially because it’s been outright confirmed that there were at least certain things originally intended for Adventure that ended up in 02, or at least were in 02 because they felt Adventure didn’t sufficiently cover it:

The kids’ home lives. As famous as the Tokyo arc of Adventure is, it only covered about a quarter of it -- the rest of it was the kids stranded in another world, separated from home! It’s specifically 02 that went into all of the things like school life, family life, daily life in Odaiba, and everything closer to the real world -- basically, everything related to family backgrounds that was very likely to have been in the planning documents for Adventure but never made it.

The (in)famous 02 episode 13 (or, at least, something like it) was intended for Adventure. As much as there’s common speculation that this episode was intended to be some giant subplot that got canned, from what we’ve heard from the staff, the truth actually seems to be a lot more mundane -- Adventure was a series very big on “oddities about the Digital World that have no real explanation” (see: phone booths), and when you reframe it in Adventure’s context, it’s likely that Dagomon and the Dark Ocean were intended to be yet another of those as part of its wider lore about the multiverse, to make you think “the heck was that?” but never get any real answer to. (And while it’s unclear whether the original theoretical Adventure version of this episode would have still involved Takeru and Hikari, if you want to put a tinfoil hat on and entertain that theory, it lends even further credence to the idea that their respective character arcs were deliberately held off for 02...)

Given that, and thinking about the 02 epilogue as the eventual goal for the series, you can also easily imagine a lot of 02-introduced things leading up to it as probably also having been baked into Adventure’s lore:

You know how 02 had a subplot about Chosen Children proliferating all over the world, as a lead-up to everyone in the world eventually having a partner? This was part of a “doubling every year” formula that’s been referred to a few times in background staff testimony. If you inspect this formula, this means that there were eight other Chosen Children besides Taichi and his friends, chosen between 1995 and 1999. Now, remember how Adventure episode 52 briefly touched on the bombshell of Chosen Children existing before Taichi and co., before never addressing it again? Considering all of the above facts, it’s very likely that’s intended to tie into that formula -- and, perhaps, had 02 had not existed to continue the subplot about “more Chosen Children”, Adventure would have taken more initiative about explaining the concept of Taichi and his friends not being the only humans with partners, and led it into their originally intended epilogue.

02 episode 33 involves Miyako visiting Kyoto and learning that there may be certain similarities between Digimon and Japanese youkai, to the point where they might be related somehow, despite predating digital technology. (The concept is revisited in Mimi’s track in Two-and-a-Half Year Break and the Adventure BD drama CD, both of them having been written after 02.) The thing is, the idea that Digimon and other similar entities actually existed prior to digital technology, and that said technology only allowed it to manifest physically in the real world, also is heavily tied to the original concept of Digimon partners being a manifestation of a part of the human’s soul, and therefore having a partner being a part of human evolution -- which is, again, heavily tied to the original intent behind the epilogue. So it’s very likely that this, at the very least, was one of the original lore points behind Adventure -- and if 02 had not existed, it’s possible that Adventure might have tried to cover it as part of a lead-up to that epilogue, rather than ultimately deferring it to 02.

This is, of course, speculation -- I’m not a member of staff, so I can’t speak for them -- but I do think it’s important to consider that while 02 was a tonally different series, it wasn’t just a sequel tacked on at the last minute, and rather just (mostly) the same staff learning three-quarters of the way through that they would have more time to continue this narrative, and reorganizing things to figure out what they wanted to do now and what they wanted to touch on if they had more time. Really, this whole narrative of “02 being a bunch of random additions they came up with and retrofit” seems to almost be the opposite of what actually happened -- while some of the ideas behind 02 were certainly created later, it’s less that Adventure was some ideal perfectly crafted story and 02 an addendum, and more that they had so many things they wanted to do in Adventure that couldn’t fit and used 02 to vent more of those out:

One of the concepts behind the prior series was for us to pack in as many interesting things that we’d seen, heard about, or read about as we could into it, so for 02, we thought, what else could we put in beyond even that?, and so we looked over what we needed to have, and put in all the things we could so that they wouldn’t be left out, and the story became a multi-layered one, overlapping and accelerating. It was to the point that, after we’d gone through 02‘s story, the scriptwriters told me that they’d worn everything they had out to the ground. In any case, we put everything we had into it back then.

Which means that understanding 02 is actually very retroactively important to understanding Adventure -- Adventure’s own writing was influenced by the knowledge that 02 would be part of its story, and 02 itself carries a lot of vital facts and story points from Adventure’s narrative that didn’t fit in the first 54 episodes, and, in real life, they were both written continuously as one story over the course of over two years. It’s also because of this that I seriously warn against seeing either series in a vacuum too much -- because both series are very deeply tied to each other, perhaps more so than a lot of people want to admit.

[daughterofluthien]

“decisions were respected” Sorry but didn’t Scott violently throw Isaac against a wall more than once just because Isaac liked his ex girlfriend in canon? That’s the literal opposite of healthy...

Hey, anon!

This is in reference to this post about Scallison for the shipping meme, where I said that one of my favorite things about Scallison is that the show lets them have a healthy breakup, and even date other people while still remaining friends. The scenes you are referring to are a pair of scenes in 3x13 Anchors.

So lets’s take a look.

(under a cut bc it turns out that when you try to be comprehensive, things get v long v quickly 😅)

The Scenes

I’m actually gonna copy/paste the dialogue of both scenes (along with minimal action/inflection notation for context) so that we can really make sure we know what we’re talking about here, so bear with me:

The first of these scenes occurs as Scott and Isaac are getting ready to head to school in the morning. After some initial ‘hey, what’re you doing, are you heading to school’ dialogue—during which both boys seem a bit awkward—we get the following:

ISAAC: [anxiously] Can I ask you a question? SCOTT: Okay... ISAAC: Are you angry with me? SCOTT: No! ISAAC: Are you sure? SCOTT: ...No. ISAAC: [awkwardly] What's that mean? SCOTT: I guess I'm not really sure how I'm feeling... ISAAC: [nodding] Okay. ...Do you hate me? SCOTT: [sighing] No, of course not. ISAAC: Do you want to hit me? SCOTT: [taken aback] No. ISAAC: I think you should hit me. SCOTT: I don't want to hit you. ISAAC: Are you sure? SCOTT: Why would I want to hit you? You didn't do anything, did you? ISAAC: [stammering] No. I mean, um... What do you mean? SCOTT: I mean, like, you didn't kiss her or anything, right? ISAAC: No! Absolutely not. No. SCOTT: ...Did you want to? ISAAC: Oh, yeah. Totally. [scene cuts to hallway outside the room. Isaac flies through the doorway and hits the wall] MELISSA: Hey! You two teenage boys? Don't test my entirely un-supernatural level of patience! ISAAC: ...Feel better?

The scene then ends, and we cut to subsequent scenes of Stiles and then Allison also getting ready for school.

The second scene is much shorter and happens later in the episode, after Isaac saves Lydia from an arrow that Allison fired while hallucinating. He and Scott are in Scott’s room again, and he’s telling him about the incident:

SCOTT: Right at her head? ISAAC: Almost right through it. And she keeps saying the same thing-- that she keeps seeing her aunt. Whatever's happening to you guys is getting worse. If I hadn't been there, then Lydia would be dead. SCOTT: ...What were you doing there? ISAAC: Uh... [scene cuts to hallway outside the room. Isaac flies through the doorway and hits the wall] MELISSA: [groaning] Oh, you guys, come on! This house does not have a supernatural ability to heal! So, stop it!

But of course just the text of the scene isn’t enough to accurately convey everything in even a tiny portion of a larger narrative, because nothing happens in a vacuum. With that in mind, let’s look at...

The Context 

The first of these scenes occurs immediately after the opening credits, and is the first time we see either Scott or Isaac this season. (Assuming you consider 3B a separate season, of course, which is a whole ‘nother can of worms. This tv show we all choose to enjoy sure is Something.)

Often, the opening of a season is used to reintroduce the audience to the main characters—letting us know where their characters arcs are starting, and what they’ll be struggling with this season. Teen Wolf did this previously (and did it well, imo) in 3x01 Tattoo. Act 2 of that episode begins with a series of four scenes showing our main characters getting ready for school in the morning, highlighting where everyone currently is, and setting up where their arcs are going to go.

Scene order taken by itself would seem to indicate that they were trying to do something similar in this episode. It starts off with the hook of Stiles’ extended nightmare sequence. He can’t tell dreams apart from reality anymore, and wakes up screaming. Cut to black, cue opening credit sequence.

Immediately after the first ad break, we get a sequence of three scenes. The first is the longer of the two Scott and Isaac scenes (which, as previously mentioned, occurs as they’re getting ready to head out to school). The second is of Stiles. He’s packing for school, and the audience learns that he’s been struggling to read when he’s awake as well. Finally, we see Allison leaving her and her dad’s apartment. She seems like she’s doing fine, if a little over-focused. But then she gets into the elevator, and has an extended hallucination/flashback of Kate.

We learn soon after this that all three of them (Scott, Stiles, and Allison) are suffering from the aftereffects of their sacrifice in the previous season. According to the explanations we get both from Kira and, later, from Deaton, they’re slipping into bardo, or the space between life and death, and there’s a door open in their minds. 

Okay, problem established.

It stands to reason, then, that all three of those opening scenes are supposed to serve to set up this problem. We’re shown, in three successive scenes, that all three of our sacrificees are, as the kids say, Not Doing So Hot.

(yes I know the kids don’t say that, let me be an increasingly out-of-touch millennial in peace)

This is all well and good, and honestly makes sense! Under this paradigm, the Scott and Isaac scene should be highlighting that Scott is Losing Control. Bardo is affecting him, and it’s causing him to be more aggressive. Giving in to violence in a way that he generally holds himself back from. Heck, the scene even starts with Scott flexing his fingers, and we (and Scott) see the shadow of a clawed hand against the door.

In the context of the narrative, it makes sense.

Except.

eXCEPT—

The Framing

The thing about the medium of television is that, when we’re talking about a scene, we can’t just look at the narrative structure. We also have to look at the scene itself: how it’s shot and directed, how it’s edited, even what music is paired with the scenes.

In the Stiles and Allison sequences, the scenes are very clearly shot for tension and horror. Long lingering shots on the things that Just Aren’t Right. Music that heightens the tension. Stiles gets some nice lil scare chords over the shot of the book that he can’t read, and there’s a very quiet droning in the background of the Allison nightmare sequence that slowly grows into some classic horror soundtrack music.

Okay. So far that tracks with the narrative thesis.

Now let’s take look at the Scott and Isaac scene.

We start out with some of those lingering shots I was talking about, as Scott is halted in his tracks when he notices the shadow of the clawed hand. We see his own hand is human and unshifted. There’s quiet, percussion heavy music over this portion of the scene that increases in tension at this point. Shaken, Scott closes his hand into a fist, and when he opens it, both the shadow and his own hand are smooth and human. The tense music fades out to silence, and he breathes a sigh of relief.

Scott opens the door to reveal Isaac, which startles him. There’s a short musical sting to underline this moment, and then the background music cuts out completely, leaving us (and them) in the awkwardness of this moment. 

And OH BOY. IS IT AWKWARD. 😬

You can kinda see the Awkwardness Inherent in the System in the dialogue that I pasted up at the top—it’s a lot of back-and-forth, short statements, trailing off... And both Posey and Sharman are playing up the awkwardness as well. Neither boy looks like they really want to be there, and that includes Isaac, who initiated this entire conversation.

But here’s the thing.

The thing that really frustrates me about this scene.

It’s not the sort of awkwardness that exists to increase the tension. The sort that builds and builds until it reaches a fever pitch and you know something just has to give. You know, the sort of tension that you would want to build if you were showing how the protagonist of your show is no longer fully in control, and is on a knife’s edge of lashing out at his friend and beta.

Instead, it’s played for comedy.

And once again, a lot of this is down to the music.

Before the dialogue that I quoted at the top even begins, the music starts back up, and this time the tense percussion has been replaced by light, pizzicato strings. (That may not be the exact right term, fyi, I only really know enough about music theory to be dangerous.) But you know, the playful, plucked strings that often accompanies comedic or otherwise not-serious scenes.

Background music tells the viewer how they’re supposed to feel about the events in a particular scene, and the music here is saying that we’re not supposed to find this whole confrontation that dramatic. In fact, we’re supposed to find it funny.

But it’s not just the music that that frames this scene as comedic. It’s also the fact that we don’t actually see Scott shoving Isaac. Instead, the scene cuts to the hallway, and all we see is Isaac flying through the doorway.

Now, obviously I don’t have a direct line to the director and editors’ minds here. But I would bet money that those particular shots were chosen 1). because it’s so much easier to do a wire pull stunt when you don’t have to show what it’s in reaction to, and 2). because it’s kinda difficult to show your main character directly doing a violence and make it funny.

But show someone yeeted into frame, and that’s funny. Right?

(Spoiler alert: not in this context, it isn’t)

Now, I know I’ve been focusing on the first scene a lot—partially because it’s longer and partially because it’s really the only reason that the second scene exists—but I do want to take a look at the second scene really quickly as well. It’s much shorter and generally adopts a more serious tone than the first one, mostly due to fact that we’re smack dab in the middle of the action at this point. The weird visions that the sacrificees have been having all episode have started endangering lives, and they can’t just wait for it to resolve on its own.

But then the focused, intent exposition is broken by Scott’s question of “why were you there.” Then smash cut to a near identical shot of the hallway,and Isaac yeeting into frame.

The thing is, this scene is entirely dependent on the previous one. It only “works”—and I use this term loosely—as a call back to the scene at the beginning of the ep. Heck, both even have the stinger of a frustrated Melissa at the end of both scenes, frustrated at all the boys-will-be-boys roughhousing going on in her house.

Much like the first scene, this one is also set up and framed for Comedy.

Which is um. A Choice. 

But What Does It All Mean

What frustrates me about these scenes, at the end of the day, is that the narrative intention and the directing/editing seem to be fundamentally at odds.

On the one hand, it makes narrative sense to say that the purpose of the scenes is to show that Scott is losing control. That he’s being affected by bardo and the open door in his mind, and it’s putting the people close to him in danger. But then on the other, the way the scenes are actually used are as comic relief. As a way to release tension between very tense, dramatic scenes. 

I don’t think it works, as I don’t personally find it funny at all. But that really does seem to be the intention.

Once again, absolutely wILD choices were made on the part of tptb, and I really wish anyone had thought for two seconds about the implications of all of this, but nO

Ahem.

So now (literally 2K words later I’m so sorry 😅) what does this tell us about the characters? Certainly no one here is arguing that shoving someone is a good or defensible choice, whether it’s due to forces outside the character’s control or not. But even taking the influence of bardo in mind, is it even in character for Scott in the first place?

Because canon can also be written inconsistently/out of character, especially when we’re talking about a long-running show like tw.

One’s an Incident, Two is Coincidence...

Well, we all know the end of that saying.

So let’s end by looking at a few patterns.

As I mentioned at the beginning of this, once again, eXCEEDINGLY long post, this is reference to a post I made about scallison. I said the following in that post:

And I also really like that they [Scott and Allison] didn’t get back together. That they were allowed to be friends. That even though sometimes it hurt to watch someone you love loved love become romantically close to another person, decisions were respected, and no friendships were broken over it.

The first pattern we need to look at, then, is this:

What’s Scott’s pattern of behavior toward Allison and Isaac’s relationship?

And does Scott’s behavior toward Isaac in these two scenes match the pattern, or is it an outlier?

3x11 Alpha Pact: Sacrifice Prep The revelation that Allison and Isaac have grown close enough for him to act as emotional tether for her is very visibly a blow to Scott. He looks like the rug has been pulled out from under him, but he doesn’t look angry or upset, just.... sad. In fact, it looks like he’s swallowing back tears. But he nods towards the two of them and just says, “It’s okay.”

3x12 Lunar Ellipse: “I look for my friends” This is the epilogue of the season. Scott walks into the hallway at all of his friends in turn. Satisfied. Happy. First at Lydia and Aiden, then at Danny and Ethan. Then he turns and watches as Isaac and Allison walk down the stairs, and they’re laughing, and so obviously happy, and Scott’s small smile grows. He isn’t jealous here—he’s happy for them. 

3x14 Illuminated: Mutual Recognition Scott and Allison are both at Danny’s halloween party, but they’re not here together. He sees her from across a crowded room, just like he did at the winter formal, so many months ago. But so much has happened, and they’re different people now. Allison’s with Isaac, and he’s starting to having feelings for Kira, but that doesn’t mean it doesn’t hurt, and that he doesn’t miss the relationship he and Allison had. For a moment, his fingers slip away from Kira’s, and he and Allison share a sad smile. 

Believe it or not, these are actually the only other examples I could find of Scott reacting to Isaac and Allison’s relationship. And uniformly across them, he’s sad, yes—after all, he loved her, and that relationship is very definitively over now. But he never seems jealous, and he isn’t angry.

So, if the Scott and Isaac scenes in Anchors don’t fit the pattern of Scott’s behavior towards the new couple, what pattern do they fit?

“Hit me.”

The teen wolf writers have a... really upsetting habit, honestly, of “resolving” interpersonal conflict between two characters by having the “wronged” party hit the other. Afterwards, the tension is almost completely broken between them, as if letting the person act aggressively in a way consensual to both parties has somehow solved the problem.

2x11 Battlefield: Derek and Peter After Peter comes back from the dead, he confronts the now pack-less Derek and offers to help him. Derek, likely remembering that Peter killed Laura and was responsible for most of the events of S1, attacks him instead. After taking a beating, Peter says the following:

PETER: Okay, go ahead! Come on, do it! Hit me. Hit me. I can see that it's cathartic for you! You're letting go of all the anger, self-loathing, and hatred that comes with total and complete failure. I may be the one taking the beating, Derek, but you've already been beaten. So, go ahead. Hit me if that will make you feel better. After all, I did say that I wanted to help.

3x13 Anchors: Scott and Isaac We’ve already discussed this scene in uh. Detail. So I don’t think we need to go into the specifics again. But just a reminder that this dialogue exists:

ISAAC: Do you want to hit me? SCOTT: No. ISAAC: I think you should hit me.

5x15 Amplification: Scott and Liam During the previous supermoon, Liam—swayed by grief, the full moon, and Theo’s manipulations—tried to kill Scott and take his power. They’ve since rediscovered an equilibrium in their relationship, and Liam’s back in Scott’s pack, but they’re both still dealing with the implications of that event. In this episode, they’re attempting to break Lydia out of Eichen, but they’re not as strong as they should be, due to the mountain ash laced through the building, and are having difficulty breaking down a door. Then, the following exchange occurs:

LIAM: Hit me. SCOTT: What? LIAM: Hit me! I'll get angry, then I'll get stronger. STILES: Hit him. Hit him! LIAM: I tried to take your powers. I tried to kill you. Hit me! STILES: He also left you for dead. LIAM: I wanted you dead!

6x16 Triggers: Liam and Theo No one actually directly says “hit me” in  this one, due to the circumstances, but the sentiment’s there. In this sequence, Liam and Theo are trying to convince Gerard and the hunters that the whole pack is hiding out in the zoo, so Theo goads Liam into hitting him, in order to stage a very audible fight.

THEO: Okay... Then they have to believe us.[shouts] Isn't that right? LIAM: [whispers] Why are you yelling? THEO: [shouts] You got a problem? Oh, that's right, you always have a problem! LIAM: [whispers] What the hell are you doing? THEO: [shouts] Shut up! [punches Liam] Yeah, you see that, Scott? Your little Beta can't even take a punch. And what do you think, Malia?

While there’s a variety of primary textual reasons here, all of them deal with personal issues between the pair, and all of them involve some level of catharsis for the person doing the punching. Taken all together, it’s honestly a pretty troubling pattern, especially given the inclusion of an actual canonical abuse victim initiating and receiving the violence.

TL;DR

This is a writer issue, not a character issue. The serious narrative context conflicts with the comedic framing in a way that is honestly baffling to me, and it doesn’t fit the established pattern of Scott’s character and actions. Moreover, it’s an example of the writers’ apparent belief that interpersonal conflict can and should be solved through consensual violence.

The pattern we do see, is that the Scott is saddened by the knowledge that Allison has moved on, but he’s glad that she and Isaac are happy. Similarly, Allison is saddened that Scott is moving on as well, because she does still care for him deeply. Despite their conflicted feelings, neither tries to disrupt the other’s new relationship.

On other shows, that would be a season-long, drama-filled plotline. Here, nothing.

And I legitimately love that so much.

[swan-of-sunrise]

Taking Care of Business (Chapter Five)

Summary: (Y/N) and Mando join forces with Cobb Vanth to kill a krayt dragon, and they attempt to get the townsfolk and the Tuskens to peacefully work together. What could possibly go wrong?

Pairing: Din Djarin X Reader

Word Count: 3.7k

Warnings/Disclaimers: None

A/N: I hope you all enjoy!

Chapter Five The Dragon (Previous Chapter)

When she made the decision to join the Mandalorian’s crew and help him fulfill his quest, (Y/N) knew that they’d frequently be encountering dangerous situations. However, she didn’t foresee one of them involving her and Mando having to help kill a krayt dragon to protect a settlement in the middle of the Dune Sea. Cobb Vanth, the Marshal of Mos Pelgo, had offered Mando a deal: if they helped him kill the krayt dragon, he’d give them the Mandalorian armor he’d been using for years to protect his people.

“Deal. (Y/N) can ride back to the ship and blow it out of the sand from the sky; we’ll stay and use the bantha as bait.”

Cobb looked away from Mando to shoot her an astounded smirk, to which she responded by raising a brow, daring him to challenge her piloting skills. Silently conceding, the marshal looked back at Mando with a grimace. “Not so simple. The ship passes above, it senses the vibrations and stays underground. But I know where it lives.”

“How far?”

“Not far.”

So, she and Mando had wrangled up the child before getting onto the speeder bike and following Cobb further into the desert. Sensing that the Mandalorian was still agitated about the marshal’s blatant disrespect of his people’s Creed, (Y/N) had allowed him to drive and resigned herself to sitting behind him on the bike. I suppose there’s worse ways to travel, she thought to herself with a faint blush as her arms tightened slightly around her partner’s waist, like on the back of a bantha or dewback.

“You two don’t understand what it was like,” Cobb interjected after about a half an hour of driving. “The town was on its last legs; it started after we got news of the Death Star blowin’ up…the second one, that is.” (Y/N) smiled to herself, a little pleased that someone else had realized just how idiotic the Empire had been to build two of those things, then turned her attention back to the marshal’s tale. “The Empire was blown out of Tatooine and there was blaster fire over Mos Eisley; the occupation was over. We didn’t even have time to celebrate. That very night, the mining collective moved in; power hates a vacuum and Mos Pelgo became a slave camp overnight…”

(Y/N) listened as the marshal detailed his escape from Mos Pelgo, how he’d stolen a camtono of silicax crystals and wandered the desert for days until being rescued by the Jawas. She felt Mando’s body stiffen as Cobb explained that he’d traded the crystals for the Mandalorian armor and returned to the town, ridding it of its enslavers and establishing himself as its marshal. Based on what he’d told them, (Y/N) decided that he was an honorable man just doing everything to keep his people safe; however, she knew that the silent Mandalorian sitting in front of her would take more time to win over.

That’s what Cobb Vanth must’ve thought as well; once he’d finished his story, he turned his attention to her instead of Mando. “So, what’s your story? How’d a smuggler end up workin’ with a Mandalorian?”

“How’d you know-?”

“Livin’ on Tatooine, I’ve met my fair share of hot-shot pilots.” His mouth stretched into a lopsided grin. “None as pretty as you, though.”

Feeling her face warm at his flirtatious tone, (Y/N) couldn’t help but smile back. “Well, Mando here asked me to join his crew after seeing my piloting skills firsthand. And I’m actually a former smuggler; I worked for the Rebellion but I retired from that life just after the New Republic was established.”

The two speeder bikes had just reached a rocky canyon and they reduced their speed in the narrowing ravine. It was then that Cobb glanced over at her with a raised brow. “I didn’t know they had smugglers workin’ in the Rebellion. What’d you smuggle for ‘em?”

(Y/N) hesitated for a moment, acutely aware that there was more than one person waiting to hear her reply. “I, um-”

Cobb signaled for them to halt right when a loud growling noise began echoing through the canyon; both speeder bikes came to a stop and all three took cover behind them as they drew their weapons. Not knowing what to expect, (Y/N) pulled the plaster rifle off her back and propped it up alongside Mando’s pulse rifle on the top of their speeder, furrowing her brow when the howling grew louder. Moments later, a massiff emerged from behind an outcropping of rock and was soon joined by several others. Instead of firing, Mando lowered his pulse rifle and let out a familiar-sounding growl of his own before walking around the bike and towards the creatures.

“What the hell’s he doin’?” Cobb whispered loudly, his look of surprise growing when (Y/N) got up from her crouch and slung her rifle back onto her shoulders. “What the-?”

She and Mando both raised a hand to calm the marshal down, and (Y/N) watched with an impressed smile as her partner knelt down and began petting the now-happy massiff. I guess Mando’s got a way with pets, she thought to herself, her smile widening when she noticed several Tuskens emerge from behind the rocks. (Y/N) had enjoyed sharing camp with the Tuskens the night before; they’d been pleasant hosts, and she’d truly loved learning more about their culture while teaching them a little of her own.

(Y/N) glanced over at Cobb while Mando conversed with the Tuskens, her smile faltering a little as she took in his hardened expression; and when Mando informed them that the Tuskens also wanted to kill the krayt dragon, a feeling of foreboding settled in the pit of her stomach.

As night was beginning to fall, the Tuskens led the three of them to their settlement and allowed them to stay in two of their tents. (Y/N) thanked them for their hospitality using the hand gestures she’d picked up from Mando, pleased that she was still able to remember them but before she could make her way over to the Tusken’s campfire, Mando stopped her.

“Word travels fast on the Dune Sea; they already know about your peaceful encounter with the other clan of Tuskens yesterday. It’s Vanth who needs to earn their trust tonight.” Mando explained, his voice becoming a little gruffer when he mentioned the marshal’s name before quietly continuing. “Why don’t you and the child get some rest, alor’ad? I know it’s early but we’ll be traveling to the lair at first light and you’ll need your strength if you’re gonna help us kill a krayt dragon…”

(Y/N) relented, taking the child from Mando and crouching into their tent as she stifled tired yawns behind her hand; settling down in her bedroll, she drifted in and out of sleep, glancing over where the child was soundly sleeping every once in a while to see if he was all right. The little guy must be growing on you, she thought with a small smile, closing her eyes and rolling over to face the tent entrance.

A sudden sound caused (Y/N)’s eyes to snap open and in an instant, her blaster was in her hand and pointed directly at the Mandalorian’s head; realizing it was only her partner, she lowered her blaster with widened eyes. “Oh! I’m so sorry, Mando, I thought that-!”

“It’s okay, you shouldn’t apologize for having a quick reflex.” Mando replied, entering the tent and sitting down on top of his bedroll. “It’s good that you’re up; the Tuskens are going to take us to the lair tomorrow, but they’re insisting we travel in a small number and only scout the area. Will you be all right staying here with the kid while we go?”

She smiled, tucking her blaster back under her pillow. “Sure, that sounds okay. I guess that means you’ll be traveling with Vanth by yourself, huh?”

Nodding, Mando glanced over at the sleeping child before looking back at her. “I don’t trust him. He picked a fight with the Tuskens earlier, and he was asking a lot of questions about your Rebellion days.”

“Well, he was born and raised on Tatooine; he’s probably been told all his life that the Tuskens are the monsters. And as for the questions…well, most people don’t know that the Rebels recruited smugglers to their cause and then once they learn, they always assume that I was only working with the Alliance for monetary reasons. But I don’t mind.” Shrugging, (Y/N) laid back down on her bedroll, resting her hands on her stomach as she stared up at the ceiling of the tent. “Better to let them assume than to re-open any old wounds by explaining. Does that make any sense?”

The Mandalorian was silent for a moment and when he answered, his voice sounded softer than usual. “Yeah…yeah, it does.”

“So, um, what’s the story with the little guy?” (Y/N) asked, eager to change the subject but also curious about the child’s background. “When you say we’re returning him to his kind, do you mean his species or maybe his family…?”

She heard Mando lay down on his own bedroll. “The child is…special. He has many abilities, and he belongs with a race of sorcerers called Jedi.”

“Jedi?” (Y/N)’s sleepy eyes widened and she rolled over to look at the Mandalorian. “I thought that they were just myths!”

“You’ve heard of the Jedi before?”

“My mother used to tell me stories about them when I was a child on Naboo, but I didn’t…” She trailed off, feeling his gaze from behind the visor of his helmet. “I always thought they were fairytales.”

Mando nodded eagerly. “Do you remember anything about your mother’s stories? Anything at all?”

“All I remember is that the Jedi were supposed to have been the guardians of the peace but if that were true, then the Empire never would’ve happened.” (Y/N) snorted, laying back down and frowning a little as she sensed her partner’s disappointment. “That doesn’t really help us, though.”

“Well, it’s one thing I didn’t know before, so I’d say it was a little helpful.” The Mandalorian offered. “We should get some rest; we’ve got a long day ahead of us tomorrow…”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

The next day, it quickly became apparent that they were in for more than what they’d originally bargained for. (Y/N) stayed at the Tusken settlement with the child while Mando, Cobb and a handful of Tuskens traveled by bantha the short distance to the krayt dragon’s lair. To pass the time, she’d mended some of their clothing and cleaned her borrowed blaster rifle, knowing that she would soon be needing it.

When the others returned, Mando explained their plan to recruit the villagers of Mos Pelgo to aid in the attack against the creature before they headed back to the town. (Y/N) hadn’t said anything out loud, but she was wary of their new plan; it essentially hinged on the ability of two warring peoples to set aside their differences in order to defeat a common enemy, and while (Y/N) had no problem working alongside the Tuskens, she knew that the villagers would have a very different opinion than her. Now I definitely have a bad feeling about all this, she thought as she parked the speeder alongside Cobb’s in front of the cantina.

“They attacked us less than a year ago, killed half a dozen of us by the mining camp. I’d say I took down about twice as many Tuskens.” Cobb got up from his speeder, a fresh look of guilt on his face.

“The town respects you.” Mando pointed out as (Y/N) hopped off their speeder and dusted off her clothes. “My guess is they’ll listen to reason.”

(Y/N) nodded and offered the marshal a brief smile. “If the Tuskens are willing to put the past aside, then I don’t see why your people can’t find it within themselves to do the same.”

“I wouldn’t be so sure.”

A doubtful-looking Cobb quickly gathered the town into the cantina and it went about as well as she’d feared it would; after explaining the entire situation to the villagers they reluctantly agreed to the deal the Tuskens had offered, that in exchange for their help and the carcass of the creature, they would unite with them in battle and never attack Mos Pelgo until a villager breaks the peace. Tension filled the air as the Tuskens arrived to help with the preparations and it went fairly quickly, save for one brief moment of unrest between a Tusken and a villager. But in no time, they were slowly on their way to the krayt dragon’s lair with the villagers and explosives in tow.

With the suns high in the sky, (Y/N) stood between Mando and Cobb as they carefully watched a lone Tusken make his way to the large cave entrance and place his hands on the ground before it; after several terse moments, the Tusken straightened and signed a message with his hands.

“What did he say?” (Y/N) quietly asked, the hand holding the blaster rifle’s strap tightening with anticipation.

“He says it’s sleeping. If we listen carefully, we can hear it breathing.”

(Y/N) glanced over at Cobb beside her, shrugging and watching as another Tusken offered him a familiar-looking green object; she gave the marshal an expectant smile that widened when he lifted the object and drank the sour liquid, finally accepting the Tusken’s gesture of peace and good faith.

After receiving their instructions from the Mandalorian, they got to work as quietly as they could. (Y/N) removed her cowl before grabbing a shovel and helping the others dig the shallow hole that they’d bury the explosives in; the muscles in her arms were aching in protest by the time the hole was finished, but she hid her pain as she walked up to Mando and Cobb with a smile.

“Ready when you are, fellas.”

Mando nodded and moved forward to watch the Tuskens approach the mouth of the cave, leaving Cobb to walk alongside her as he flashed her a lopsided grin. “How ‘bout a kiss for luck from a pretty lady?”

(Y/N) only rolled her eyes and raised a brow in amusement at his flirting attempt. “How about we focus on killing a krayt dragon and not dying instead, Marshal?”

“Worth a shot.” Cobb shrugged as they stood alongside Mando on the rocky ridge overlooking the villagers and Tuskens. They watched as three Tuskens slowly made their way to the cave and stopped, hesitating a brief moment before loudly calling out; their grunts and growls echoed throughout the rocky canyon and just as they had begun to fade, the growling of a large creature called back. All three Tuskens turned and ran, and the krayt dragon burst out of the cave in an explosion of sand; its roar shook the ground, and (Y/N)’s jaw nearly dropped when she realized just how massive the creature was.

Beside her, Mando pulled out his scope and all three of them watched the Tuskens and the villagers enact their plan; they fired the harpoons they’d built to pull the creature from its cave, but it quickly became clear that it wasn’t working when the krayt dragon reared its head back and tried tugging itself loose from its captors. “Dank farrik, it’s going back in; it’s retreating.”

Cobb gripped the detonator in his hand, his thumb hovering over the button. “I’m gonna hit it.”

“No, wait. We only have one shot; we’ve gotta get it out.”

Following the others lead, (Y/N) slung the blaster rifle off her shoulder and quickly aimed before firing at the creature, her precise shots joining the blaster bolts and small explosives hitting its thick hide. Their actions enraged the krayt dragon, which charged forward and forced the others to run for cover.

“Now?” Cobb asked, his jaw tightening as he watched his village continue its assault on the creature.

Mando shook his head. “Not yet. It’s gotta come out further.”

But as he spoke, the krayt dragon finally pulled itself free of the harpoons with a deafening roar, throwing Tuskens high into the air before opening its mouth and spewing acid onto a group of retreating Tuskens and villagers.

Both Mando and Cobb stiffened at the sight, and (Y/N) heard herself breathe out, “Oh, Maker.”

The creature continued forward after its attackers, and Mando held up a tense hand. “Almost, almost…now!”

The marshal’s thumb smashed down on the button and the explosives went off, sending a massive cloud of dust up with a blast of air as the creature roared and vanished from view. (Y/N) lowered her blaster to shield her face from the sand-filled wind, looking up as the dust began to settle and frowning when she noticed the empty patch of ground.

“I don’t think it’s dead.”

“Me either.”

(Y/N) merely bit her lip and watched as the Tuskens and villagers looked around in confusion, an unsettling feeling forming in the pit of her stomach. Suddenly, the krayt dragon exploded out of the rocky ridge high above the entrance of the cave with an ear-splitting growl and began spewing more acid onto the panicked crowd below.

Cobb’s face twisted in fury. “It’s pickin’ us off like womp rats.” He suddenly turned and grabbed his blaster rifle off his speeder. “Let’s get after it!”

Mando turned to look at her and she nodded, already knowing exactly what the two of them had in mind; he hurried over and grabbed his pulse rifle, rushing back to her and wrapping his free arm tightly around her waist. He barely gave her enough time to latch onto him before activating his jetpack and shooting up into the air, flying fast towards where the creature was emerging from the rocks. Yeah, I think I prefer flying in an actual ship, (Y/N) barely had time to think, landing roughly beside Mando and Cobb on the side of the ridge and immediately joining them as they fired their weapons at the side of the creature’s head.

“This ain’t doin’ a thing!”

“Yeah, I have to agree with the marshal on this one!” (Y/N) yelled, watching as their shots bounced off its thick hide.

Reloading his pulse rifle, Mando loudly replied, “Just keep shooting!”

The three of them continued firing their weapons and after a few moments, the krayt dragon seemed to finally notice their presence; it let out another roar and moved its head towards them, but the Mandalorian grabbed her around the waist again and they flew out of the way just as it bit down on the rocky ridge. They flew down to the ground in front of the cave entrance and spun around, their weapons at the ready, but the creature had disappeared once again.

“Dank farrik…” (Y/N) murmured under her breath, her grip on her blaster rifle tightening as she waited for the krayt dragon to re-emerge; she didn’t have very long to wait. They quickly turned as the creature appeared from the sand dunes behind them and lunged forward, narrowly missing a cluster of escaping Tuskens and villagers.

“There he is.” Mando spoke under his breath, his modulated voice steady despite the dire situation. He glanced past (Y/N) to Cobb with a nod. “I’ve got an idea. Get it’s attention.”

Without hesitation, the marshal leaned forward and activated the missile strapped to his back; it hit the creature with a fiery explosion, causing it to shriek in anger and change its course, charging through the sand in their direction. “I got its attention! Now what?”

“You still have that detonator?”

Cobb unclipped it from his belt and reached past (Y/N) to hand it over. “Take it!”

“Wait, what’s the plan, Mando?” (Y/N) frowned, trying in vain to piece together what her partner was planning on doing.

Mando turned his head to look at her. “You’re gonna take care of the child.”

“What are you gonna do?”

“I don’t know but wish me luck!” Before (Y/N) could realize what was happening, Mando pushed her into Cobb’s arms and as she instinctively brought her arms up around the marshal’s shoulders, he slammed the butt of his pulse rifle into his jetpack and they shot high up into the air. Clutching tightly to Cobb as they zigzagged through the sky, (Y/N) had just enough time to glance over and see the krayt dragon swallow Mando and a bantha whole before they landed hard on the ground.

Quickly sitting up, (Y/N) stared at the spot the Mandalorian had been with her jaw dropped in horror. She couldn’t move or speak and beside her, Cobb ripped off his helmet to reveal an equally-stunned face; before either of them could say anything, the ground began to rumble beneath them once again. (Y/N) grabbed her blaster rifle just as the krayt dragon re-emerged from the ground, its jaw widening to release a mighty roar, but just as she was preparing to fire on it, a familiar beskar-clad figure flew out of its mouth and was followed by the electric-blue shockwaves of a pulse rifle.

“That son of a mud-scuffer…” (Y/N) breathed out, watching through her rifle’s scope in amazement as the Mandalorian pressed down on the detonator and set off the explosives within the creature. With one last ear-splitting scream, the krayt dragon collapsed to the ground in a cloud of sand and dust, finally defeated.

She and Cobb shielded their faces as a strong gust of wind blasted them, looking up in time to watch Mando land on the ground in front of the creature’s carcass. (Y/N) glanced over at the marshal and they shared a disbelieving grin, clambering to their feet while the cheers of Tuskens and villagers filled the air.

(Y/N)’s leg twinged in protest when she stood but she ignored the pain as she and Cobb hurried over to where Mando stood; his armor was dripping with the creature’s green stomach acid and his chest was heaving with labored breaths, but to her he looked incredible.

“You’ve gotta be the craziest kriffing man I’ve ever met!” (Y/N) exclaimed, looking over her partner for any serious signs of injury and grinning when he merely shrugged his shoulders. “Keep pulling stunts like that and you might just change my low opinion of ex-bounty hunters.”

Mando chuckled between breaths, the sound causing her heart to warm in her chest. “I’ll keep that in mind, alor’ad.”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ 

A/N: Thank you guys so much for reading!

Mando'a Translations: Alor'ad-Captain

Chapter Six

Taking Care of Business Masterlist

Tagging: @remmysbounty​ @sinon36​ @seninjakitey​ @thatonedindjarinfan​ @ginger-swag-rapunzel​ @mostclevermiss​ @momc95​ @welcometothepedroverse​ @sarahjkl82-blog​ @zukoyonce​ @itsnottilly​

[fantasticallyfoolishidea]

So, what’s “Her Sweet Kiss” actually about?

There are a lot of posts about “Her Sweet Kiss” going around already. I might be kinda late to the party but hear me out. By now, plenty of people have started interpreting it as Jaskier’s song about his heartbreak over Geralt sending him and you know what? That’s great. Love it. Amazing. Superb.

But you know what’s also hella damn sexy?

Cold, hard, textual evidence. And damn, does the text deliver.

(Actual analysis starts underneath the line break bc this got longer than anticipated.)

edit 12/01/20: The whole thing’s now available in Brazilian Portuguese, courtesy of the extremely kind @sunshine-any.

So, just or a minute, I want you to forget all about Jaskier, and Geralt, and Yennefer, the events of “Rare Species”… Actually, I’d like you to just forget about the entirety of The Witcher until I get to the point. We’ll get back to them later. For now, let’s just pretend that “Her Sweet Kiss” is like any other song you might hear on the radio by an artist you’ve never heard of before.

And now, only now, without any of the show’s baggage, let’s have a look at what’s going on in this son(g) of a bitch, starting out with the first couple of lines:

The fairer sex, they often call it But her love’s as unfair as a crook It steals all my reason Commits every treason Of logic, with naught but a look A storm breaking on the horizon Of longing and heartache and lust

Okay so, you’ve got a narrator figure (whom, for simplicity’s sake, I’ll be using he/him pronouns for) and you’ve got a nameless woman he’s singing about. The song’s about love, but not the happy kind. Love robbing someone of all logic and reason is a staple of love poetry, but in this case the narrator frames it as a betrayal. The woman’s love feels “unfair” to the narrator, and he blames her for his loss of logic and reason. A single glance of hers and the narrator is overcome with a whirlwind of emotions – longing, heartache and lust. However, “a storm breaking on the horizon” suggests a sense of distance coupled with these emotions rather than a sense of immediacy.

She’s always bad news It’s always lose, lose So tell me love, tell me love How is that just?

These lines expand on the idea of unfairness. Her mere presence pains the narrator and “it’s always lose, lose”. In other words, there’s nothing he can do that will lead to a favourable outcome for him. A third party which the narrator addresses as “love” is introduced and he asks them “How is that just?”. It’s quite apparent that he feels wronged. At this point, the “love” he’s addressing could refer to a number of things. For example, he could be addressing the woman (think, “Why do you do this to me, my love?”); he could be addressing the concept of love, yet another staple of love poetry, (think, “Love, why do torment us humans like this?”). I don’t think it’s either of them, for reasons I’ll be getting to in a minute.

But the story is this She’ll destroy with her sweet kiss

The refrain is rather straight-forward, so I’ll spare you the repetition. By going out of his way to state “But the story is this” the narrator solidifies his position as a narrator figure, telling a story. You could take this as a suggestion that he’s not quite in the midst of things. He sings about how “She’ll destroy with her sweet kiss” but he’s vague about it. There’s no concrete mention of what she’s destroying. It could be their relationship, the narrator could be the narrator’s heart, let your imagination run wild, for now, because the second stanza clears all of that right up. Kind of.

Her current is pulling you closer And charging the hot humid night The red sky at dawn is giving a warning, you fool Better stay out of sight

Now would you look at that. Our narrator isn’t singing to himself, nor is he simply singing to a nondescript audience. There’s a third party (whom i’ll be using they/them pronouns for. Remember you don’t know anything outside of what’s written in the lyrics) he is addressing, who is captivated by the woman, and the narrator claims they are missing distinct warning signs. The narrator’d rather they stayed away from the woman.

I’m weak my love, and I am wanting

And this is where we start to get the whole picture. The narrator addresses the third person as “my love”. Which bears a lot of significant because it turns everything we’ve established so far on its head. (For one, it implies that when he asks “tell me love / how is that just?” it’s this “love” he’s talking to, not the concept of love, and certainly not the woman). He’s realised that “his love” is falling for the woman. The reason he feels the woman’s love is “unfair as a crook” and why it’s causing him so much pain isn’t because they’re involved in some ill-fated romance; it’s because the one he calls “his love” is the object of the woman’s love and he feels like no matter what he does, he’s bound to lose them one way or another. He’s pushed into the role of an observer while the woman and “his love” were getting entangled, hence his assumption of the role of a narrating figure rather than a figure with agency. Looking at “I’m weak my love, and I am wanting” and the following lines as a whole is kinda tricky because there’s a number of ways you could read that. It could be that the narrator is admitting that he’s tired of fighting the inevitable, hence feeling weak and wanting. However, the narrator could also be admitting to his shortcomings – as in “I know I’m weak and that I’m lacking [as a companion, perhaps? just one example]”.

If this is the path I must trudge I welcome my sentence Give to you my penance Garroter, jury and judge

Essentially, what’s happening is that the narrator is giving up. He’s accepted the way things are (or the way “his love” thinks things should be, as “sentence” suggests that some sort of judgement has been passed or a decision been made) and assumes responsibility for what wrongs he might have done his lover. By uniting the roles of “garroter, jury and judge” in “his love” he’s basically giving them (and them only) free reign over his fate. Cue the refrain.

But the story is this She’ll destroy with her sweet kiss

Now for the fun part. Because this isn’t just some random song created in a vacuum. Remember how it is a song sung and composed by Jaskier? And remember the episode it appeared in? There are some minor differences, of course. I won’t start guessing about how this might relate to Jaskier, Geralt and Yennefer’s relationship because then we’d be bridging over into speculative territory and I only wanted to try and figure out what’s going on with the lyrics. Some have pointed out that, in the episode, Jaskier originally debated making the line either “gorgeous” or “lovely garroter, jury and judge” before eventually using neither. Others have pointed out that, in-universe, Marilka also acknowledged that “Geralt” and “Garroter” sound somewhat similar, which could be interpreted as an intentional parallel from the actual writers’ side.

In conclusion, I’m shamelessly stealing someone else’s observation that “Her Sweet Kiss” totally is the “Jolene” of the Witcher-Verse.

Make of that what you will.

edit 06/01/20: Tiny caveat. I was too lazy to get into the whole thing about "real author” vs. “implied author” vs. “narrator” vs. “characters who just so happen to be writers”. Just, keep in mind, Jaskier is a bard who makes a living off his art. Writing songs is his job, and oftentimes a good song is one that makes people emotional. A lot of stuff in ep. 6 can be used to support the interpretation that HSK’s about Jaskier’s actual heartbreak over Geralt and Yennerfer’s relationship. But, I also cited “cold, hard, textual evidence” which, at the end of the day, boils down to “HSK is about a love triangle” and “Jaskier was working on Her Sweet Kiss around the time he and Geralt parted ways”. It’s a conspicuous parallel that may yet affect future episodes but, please, don’t misunderstand me as treating it as a foregone conclusion. What I was trying to say is, “here’s what we can gather from the lyrics themselves” and it can mean as little or as much as you want it to mean for Geralt and Jaskier’s relationship.

[postwick-palace]

What could Hop’s arc in the Pokémon anime look like?

This is a question that I’ve been mulling over in the past couple of months, as I love the Journeys anime so far and I love Hop as a character and I’d love for his character to be given justice in the anime. The anime’s been pretty hit or miss as far as adapting game rivals goes, and the fact that Ash isn’t actually journeying through Galar makes it more difficult to establish Hop as a rival to Ash. But I still think it can be done, and with the Darkest Day arc kicking off in a few days, I think now’s a perfect time to share my thoughts on what a Hop arc done right might look like!

So, I basically plotted out a full seven-episode arc for Hop that would theoretically take place over the course of a season or so. Given how little time Journeys is spending even on its longer arcs, it’s highly unlikely that they’d actually give him this long of an arc, but hey. I’m proposing my ideal Hop arc, not necessarily the most plausible Hop arc. 

The focus of my proposed arc is his struggle with being “strong” that he goes through during the middle-third of the game, after losing to Bede. Hop will be another competitor in the World Coronation Series, but when Ash meets him, he’s in the middle of a slump. Ash eventually helps him get out of this slump, and then Hop gets the opportunity to rematch Bede - the challenger who started him on the slump - and prove to Bede that he’s become stronger. Because Hop feels like he’s weak when he first meets Ash and Goh, he initially hides the fact that he’s Leon’s little brother from them. But eventually, they learn about their relationship and even get to spend time with Hop and Leon together, showing a little bit of a different side to both Trainers.

The basic purpose of each episode is as follows:

Episode 1 - Introduction: Introduces Hop; on the surface he's just another friendly WCS competitor but there are some hints that there's something deeper going on with him, like the fact that he gets really pissed off when Team Rocket calls him weak.

Episode 2 - Context: It's revealed that he's on a losing streak and he's trying to catch stronger Pokémon to break it, but he's not very close with any of his Pokémon because he doesn't think that's necessary to get stronger.

Episode 3 - Breaking Point: Hop’s lost so much that he's fallen back down to Normal Rank, and he's pretty bummed about it. Spending time with Ash & Goh helps him realize that having a strong bond with your Pokémon is important to getting stronger and he decides to add some of his older Pokémon back to his team.

Episode 4 - Lesson Learned: Continuation of the previous episode; Hop battles Ash with a team of Pokémon that he has a strong bond with and he wins. It's also strongly hinted at that he's Leon's little brother.

Episode 5 - Bede: Bede's introduced as the challenger who started Hop on his losing streak, and Ash learns that Hop is Leon's little brother. 

Episode 6 - Hop vs Bede: Continuation of the previous episode; Hop rematches Bede and is able to defeat him this time, demonstrating how he's grown. Also, Goh finally learns that Hop is Leon’s little brother.

Episode 7 - Leon’s Day Off: Hop & Leon spend time together in an informal setting and Ash & Goh get to learn more about their personal life, as well as just seeing how different Leon is when he's not showing off to the public.

And because I got really into it, I wrote up essentially full synopses for each episode, going into detail about how those points I outlined up above would be demonstrated. Since this post is already pretty long as it is, the episode synopses are under the cut!

Note: Because I wrote most of this over a month ago, before we even had any clue what the Eternatus plot would look like in the anime, this proposal deliberately avoids any mention of Chairman Rose, Eternatus, the Darkest Day, or the legendary wolves. It also assumes that Ash’s Riolu and Goh’s Raboot have not evolved by the time the arc begins, but they will have evolved later on.

Episode 1: Introduction

The episode begins with Ash and Goh arriving in Turffield. They’ve heard about the hidden treasure of Turffield and that some new clues to its location have recently been discovered, so they’re gonna go on a treasure hunt to try to find it. They talk to a local who gives them the clues they need to get started, and they set out to get hunting.

Just then, Ash gets an alert on his Rotom Phone that someone’s challenging him to a World Coronation Series match. He accepts and looks around to see who the challenger is, and he discovers it’s an energetic kid with purple hair and yellow-gold eyes who introduces himself as Hop from Postwick. Ash introduces himself, and a WCS battle begins.

The match is Ash’s Riolu versus Hop’s Cramorant. At some point during the battle, there’s a gag where Cramorant uses Surf and it floods the whole area, and then Goh realizes that Ash’s Pikachu is missing – only to discover that it got gulped up by Cramorant. Ash and Goh ask Cramorant to spit Pikachu out, but Hop commands Cramorant to attack instead. Unfortunately for Hop, Cramorant has difficulty maneuvering with a Pikachu in its mouth, so none of the attacks it uses while holding Pikachu hit their target. He wonders if maybe he should just have Cramorant spit out Pikachu, but before he can make a decision Ash finally just has Riolu use Vacuum Wave on Cramorant. This causes it to spit out Pikachu right into Riolu, which deals damage and paralyzes it. Hop is relieved because that was what he was hoping for all along.

However, ever the flexible thinker, Ash is able to turn the battle around and claim victory. His rank rises while Hop’s rank falls, revealing that Hop is actually higher ranked than Ash. Hop thanks Ash for the battle – it taught him that relying on Cramorant’s Gulp Missile ability was clearly a bad strategy. He then says that Cramorant is a bust, but when Ash asks him what he means by that Hop doesn’t elaborate.

Rather, he asks Goh if Goh is a World Coronation Series competitor too. Goh introduces himself and says he isn’t, and Ash explains that they’re here looking for the treasure of Turffield. Hop gets excited because he’s looking for the treasure of Turffield, too. He challenges Ash and Goh to a competition to see who can find the treasure first.

The treasure hunt is a little more elaborate than it is in the games, with a series of clues that each tell the location of the next one. The last clue points them to the middle of a field which happens to be occupied by Wooloo. Ash reaches it first, but he can’t get the Wooloo to move. Goh joins him next and tries using the Pokédex to figure out how to move them, but it doesn’t help either. 

Finally Hop reaches them, and he’s disappointed that he fell behind but perks up when he realizes that they’re stuck because of the Wooloo. He claims to know everything there is to know about Wooloo and spouts off some Wooloo facts. According to Hop, Wooloo are useless in battle, but their wool makes really strong fabric. If you want to get them to trust you, you have to scratch them right behind the ears. They’re very stubborn and aren’t prone to moving, especially in large groups, but they can be startled by loud noises. Once they start rolling, that’s your chance to herd them in the direction you want.

Ash says that he tried startling them with a loud noise already, but after they rolled away they rolled back before he could reach the spot where the treasure was buried. Hop says you need to herd them away from it and says he’ll show them how it’s done. He sends out a Raboot, much to Goh’s surprise, and Raboot runs quietly to the other side of the flock. Hop yells to startle the Wooloo and Raboot fires an Ember up into the air, drawing the Wooloo’s attention so they all move away from Hop and towards Raboot. Then Raboot runs back to Hop’s side, blocking off the Wooloo from moving back to their old spot. Hop thanks the Wooloo for their cooperation and pets one of the Wooloo on the head, getting a wistful look in his eye.

Suddenly, a net flies out and grabs Raboot and all the Wooloo. Hop is bewildered, Ash and Goh rush to his side, and Team Rocket reveal themselves and do the motto. They grab Pikachu as well for good measure and attempt to make their escape. Hop sends out a Toxel and a Silicobra, but neither of them really know ranged attacks so they can’t do much. Team Rocket laugh at their ineffectiveness and say something along the lines of him being a “weak little twerp” which makes Hop really angry, but no matter how many attacks his Pokémon use they can’t reach Team Rocket.  

Goh, who still has all his Pokémon, sends out his own Raboot. Hop’s surprised that Goh also has a Raboot, and Goh’s Raboot uses Ember to break the net that Team Rocket is using to hold the Pokémon. Hop’s Raboot rescues Ash’s Pikachu, and Pikachu and the two Raboot send Team Rocket blasting off. Hop’s and Goh’s Raboot do something cute like fistbump or something to show that they’re buddies now.

Finally, they’re able to dig up the hidden treasure; it might be an Expert Belt like in the games or it could be something more useful. Hop expects Ash to take it since he was the first one to reach the Wooloo, but Ash says Hop should have it since they couldn’t have moved the Wooloo without him. Hop tries to downplay his contribution but Goh agrees with Ash, so Hop gets to take the treasure. He thanks Ash and Goh for their help rescuing Raboot and the Wooloo, and the episode ends with Hop saying goodbye to them and heading off on his own way.

Episode 2: Context

The episode begins with Goh deciding that he wants to catch more Pokémon from other regions. Ash makes some suggestions, but Goh just can’t pick a single region to go to. Professor Cerise suggests that they go to the Wild Area in Galar since it’s full of Pokémon from every region. Goh thinks that’s a great idea, and Ash is eager to join him because that means they might be able to find more wild Dynamax Pokémon. So, they set off for the Galar region once more.

They arrive at a different part of the Wild Area than the one they explored last time so they can hopefully find different Pokémon. Goh finds some Pokémon he hasn’t caught before and catches it. Ash looks around for a pillar of red light indicating the appearance of a Dynamax Pokémon, and he spots one that doesn’t look too far away. They head off to investigate it.

They’re able to see from a long way off that it’s a Dynamax Snorlax, and maybe one of them comments that it looks different from the one they encountered on their first visit. As they get closer they hear the sounds of Pokémon attacks and realize that someone is battling the Snorlax. Eventually, they’re close enough to realize that that someone is Hop. He’s battling Snorlax with Raboot, Boltund, Trevenant, and Heatmor all at the same time, and as they watch, Hop manages to weaken Snorlax enough to try to catch it. He takes out a Poke Ball and uses his Dynamax Band to supersize it before throwing it at Snorlax. It shakes three times before returning to normal size for the click.

As Hop jogs over to pick up his new catch, Ash and Goh call his name and congratulate him. Hop greets them, and Ash says he didn’t know that you could catch Dynamax Pokémon. Hop says that you can as long as you have a Dynamax Band, and wild Dynamax Pokémon are a little stronger than other Pokémon, so he’s been looking around the Wild Area for strong Dynamax Pokémon to add to his team. Goh says that they’re here to catch Pokémon too, so maybe they could catch Pokémon together. Hop points out that they can’t both catch a single Pokémon, but he thinks it’ll be fun to compete to see who can catch the Pokémon first.

A brief little montage follows in which Hop and Goh compete to catch a few Pokémon, each of them catching a couple. Eventually, Hop spots a Dreepy and is really eager to try to catch it. It runs away almost immediately, and Hop has some difficulty chasing after it, but eventually he’s able to catch up to the Dreepy and catch it. By that point, they’re all pretty tired from chasing after Dreepy, and Ash being Ash is absolutely starving. So, Hop suggests they set up camp and offers to treat them to proper Galarian curry.

They all send out their full teams and share the curry Pokémon Camp style. Ash is eager to see Hop’s Cramorant again, but to his surprise Hop doesn’t have it with him. Hop says that he sent it home to Postwick – he keeps all the Pokémon he catches that are no good in battle there. Goh observes that Hop’s Pokémon are all keeping to themselves and don’t seem very close to him, and Hop explains that they’re all recent catches so he hasn’t spent much time with them. Ash says that camping out with them like this will be a great way to bond with them, but Hop says that there’s not much point in bonding with his Pokémon if he can’t come up with good strategies to use with them. He needs to get stronger and becoming friends with his Pokémon isn’t necessary to do that. Hop then changes the subject before Ash or Goh can argue with him.

Naturally, the World Coronation Series eventually comes up in conversation. Ash shows off his ranking and asks Hop what his is. Hop doesn’t want to look at his rank though, and when pressed he explains that he was almost to Hyper Rank when he lost to another challenger and has been on a losing streak ever since. Ash encourages him not to give up and to keep training to become stronger, and Hop agrees, declaring that he’s going to become the next World Monarch.

Hop’s new Dreepy floats up to him, and Hop pets it and says Dreepy’s an integral part of his plan to get to World Monarch status. Goh is surprised because it’s such a timid-looking Pokémon, and Hop claims that it may be weak now but its final evolution, Dragapult, is one of the strongest Dragon-type Pokémon. He adds that the World Monarch himself has a Dragapult on his team that he only uses against his toughest opponents, so that’s why wanted to catch a Dreepy for himself.

However, because they can’t have nice things, Team Rocket shows up to steal all their Pokémon – a task made much easier by the fact that they’re all just sitting out in the open for them to steal. They nab all the Pokémon except Hop’s brand-new Snorlax because it’s too heavy to be sucked up by Team Rocket’s machine. Hop and Snorlax destroy Team Rocket’s machine and free all the Pokémon; Team Rocket summons the vending machine to get some Pokémon to battle with. Snorlax is able to defeat both Pokémon singlehandedly, much to Hop’s delight. He declares that Snorlax is also going to be an integral part of his championship team.

With everything packed up and put away, Hop and Ash and Goh prepare to once again go their separate ways. Hop says that with the new team members he’s acquired today, he feels like he’s finally gonna be able to break his losing streak and start climbing back up the ranks, and he promises to have a rematch with Ash the next time they meet. Ash wishes him luck, and Hop runs off.

Back at Cerise Park, Goh sets out food for his Pokémon and observes how all the new Pokémon he caught today are fitting in well. He thinks about how distant Hop’s Pokémon seemed by comparison and Hop’s words about it not being necessary to bond with his Pokémon. Ash walks up and asks Goh what he’s thinking about, and Goh says that Hop is a really strange Trainer. Ash cheerfully replies that they’re all a little strange, and Hop clearly loves Pokémon, so he doesn’t see anything wrong about him. The episode ends with Goh thinking that if Hop really loves Pokémon, he sure has a strange way of showing it.

Episode 3: Breaking Point

The episode opens with Hop walking alone through Circhester, shuffling his feet and staring at his WCS ranking on his phone – he’s back down to Normal Rank. He switches to another window on his phone that starts playing an interview with Leon. In the interview, Leon talks about his dream for the Trainers of Galar to become stronger. When the interviewer asks him about the World Coronation Series, Leon namedrops Ash as a competitor who he’s got his eye on. Hop shoves his phone back into his pocket and walks away dejectedly.

Meanwhile, Ash and Goh are visiting Circhester today because they’re investigating a wild Snom outbreak around there. They’ve barely just arrived when Ash is jumped by a bunch of WCS competitors who saw Leon’s interview and want to battle Ash because the Champion singled him out. At first, Ash is eager to fight, but he gets a bit overwhelmed by the number of people who want to battle him.

Suddenly, Hop appears and in a pretty authoritative voice tells everybody to leave Ash alone because they’re being rude and Ash isn’t here to battle. They disperse, and Ash and Goh thank Hop for the assist – they’re not used to dealing with big groups of people like that. Ash wonders why they got mobbed in the first place, and Hop’s surprised that they haven’t seen the interview yet. He describes it as an interview where “Mr. World Monarch himself said that you’re a promising Trainer that he’s got high hopes for in the World Coronation Series, Ash,” but his annoyance goes unnoticed by Ash and Goh. Hop recommends that they stay out of the city for a while until people calm down, and that works for Ash and Goh because the wild Snom they’re looking for don’t live in the city, anyways. Hop asks to go with them because Snom are really cute and who wouldn’t want to go see Snom, y’know?

While they’re looking for the Snom, however, Hop is notably more subdued than usual. When Ash asks him how the WCS is going for him, Hop avoids the question. They start to get really cold, so Hop sends out his Raboot and Goh his Cinderace to keep themselves warm. Raboot and Cinderace are buds as usual, and Hop says – kinda bitterly – that he thinks Raboot likes Cinderace more than him. Goh says that his Cinderace was the same way when it was a Raboot and that Raboot just shows how it cares in a different way.

A little later, they finally find the Snom and play around with them for a bit with their Pokémon, but the playing gets a little too rough and they accidentally cause an avalanche. Hop ends up trapped inside a cave with Raboot while Ash and Goh and their Pokémon are still outside. Hop calls out to Ash and Goh, but they can’t hear him. Next, he sends out all the rest of his Pokémon: Snorlax, Pincurchin, Drakloak, and Xatu. He tries to get them to destroy the rocks and ice from the inside, but they can’t. With the cave seemingly coming to a dead end a short way in and no way out, Hop decides that his only option is to return everyone except Raboot, for warmth, and hunker down to await rescue.

Meanwhile, Ash and Goh are trying to get to Hop from the outside. They’ve already realized that he can’t hear them, and Goh finally determines that they can’t move or destroy the avalanche without making things worse. They decide to go back to the city to get professional help – one of those Macro Cosmos subsidiaries probably specializes in stuff like this.

Back in the cave, Hop’s starting to shiver from the cold even with Raboot there; Raboot is visibly distressed despite Hop reassuring him that he’s fine. Raboot starts looking for another way out of the cave and eventually finds one by melting some ice. Hop and Raboot explore this other path, but it just leads to another exit blocked by the avalanche. Raboot doesn’t give up though and tries to destroy the ice and snow from the inside again. Through the power of determination and friendship, Raboot evolves into Cinderace and is able to melt everything with Pyro Ball.

Hop is amazed and overjoyed that Cinderace evolved, but he doesn’t understand why until Cinderace gives him a big hug to warm him up. He realizes that, like Goh said, it cares about him a lot and this is how it’s showing that. Flashing back to a battle of Ash’s and a battle of Leon’s, Hop realizes that the thing he was missing – the reason why all his strategies and picking the right Pokémon never worked �� is that having a close bond with your Pokémon does help make them stronger, and maybe that’s even more important than using the “strongest” Pokémon.

Hop finds Ash and Goh to show them that he’s okay and make sure all the Snom are okay, but he doesn’t stick around for long – he sprints back to Circhester and calls home. His mom starts to ask him if he’s seen Leon’s interview, but Hop interrupts her to ask her to send over a couple of his Pokémon. After she’s sent them over, she says they missed him and Hop says, a little tearfully, that he missed them too.

Ash and Goh are back in Circhester near the Hero’s Bath, talking about their encounter with the Snom. Hop runs up to them with Cinderace, Corvisquire, and Wooloo all out of their Poké Balls and running alongside him. He introduces Ash and Goh to Wooloo, the first Pokémon he ever owned, and Corvisquire, the first Pokémon he ever caught. The episode ends with Hop challenging Ash to an official World Coronation Series match.

Episode 4: Lesson Learned

Hop and Ash battle, with Hop using Wooloo, Corvisquire, and Cinderace. Hop is noticeably more confident in making decisions and issuing commands to his Pokémon than he was in his first battle with Ash. It’s a close match, but Hop wins because he’s in sync with his Pokémon and believes in himself. [Wooloo or Corvisquire could evolve during the battle, but Cinderace just evolved last episode and I don’t want to overdo it on the evolutions.]

When Hop’s rankings update, the announcer states that the victory brings him back up to Super Rank. Ash and Goh are surprised because they didn’t even know that Hop had fallen down back to Normal Rank. Hop explains that he was feeling so bummed last episode because of that, and he was actually looking for Ash because he hoped spending time with Ash would help him figure out what he needed to do to get out of his slump – “you were endorsed by the World Monarch, after all”.

Hop is filled with new determination to become the next World Monarch and Ash is pumped to have a renewed rivalry with Hop. He promises to defeat Hop the next time they battle, but Hop says Ash won’t stand a chance because Hop’s about to start a new winning streak and reach Hyper Rank in no time. Hop says goodbye and races off to go challenge another WCS competitor.

Goh, meanwhile, is curious about the interview and calls Ash over so they can watch it together on Goh’s Rotom Phone. They watch the part that Hop saw, where Leon talks about Ash, but they don’t stop watching immediately like Hop did. And as it turns out, the next thing the interviewer asks is which Trainer from Galar Leon thinks has the most potential in the World Coronation Series. Leon’s answer is his little brother: “My little bro may only be Normal Rank now, but I’m certain that he’ll soon become a force to be reckoned with!”

Ash and Goh are surprised to learn that Leon has a little brother, and Ash wonders who the little brother is. Goh says that if he’s anything like his brother, then Ash will definitely meet Leon’s little brother in battle someday. The episode ends with them returning to Kanto to tell Professor Cerise about everything that happened in their visit to Galar.

Episode 5: Bede

Ash and Goh are in Galar again. This time, Ash is there for a battle competition in Hammerlocke, while Goh plans to explore the nearby Wild Area to catch more Pokémon. The Hammerlocke battle competition, which is simply named the Hammerlocke Challenger’s Cup, isn’t affiliated with the World Coronation Series, but Ash thinks it’ll be good practice for the competition. Plus, it’ll be a lot of fun because it’s held in Hammerlocke Stadium so the competitors can use Dynamax in the matches.

After Ash has signed up for the competition he runs into Hop, who’s chipper and enthusiastic as usual. Hop also signs up for the competition and asks where Goh is; Ash explains that he’s out catching Pokémon, but he’ll be back to watch the battles.

Just then, someone offscreen is like, “Well, well, well. If it isn’t the Champion’s pathetic little brother.” Cut to Bede, who’s looking smug and arrogant as always. Hop tells him to shut up and Bede asks Hop if he really can’t handle hearing the truth. Hop says that Bede’s too full of himself to notice the truth and Bede retorts that he’s perfectly capable of telling a strong Trainer from a weak one and Hop definitely falls in the latter category.

Ash finally interrupts to ask if Bede meant Champion as in Leon, and Bede condescendingly asks what other Champion he would be referring to. Hop points out that every region has a Champion, but there’s only one World Monarch – and that’s his big bro. Ash is shocked to learn that Hop is Leon’s little brother, but Hop’s surprised that Ash didn’t know or figure that out already. Bede takes the opportunity to get in another jab at Hop, saying that Ash didn’t realize he was the Champion’s brother because he’s so weak. Hop snaps at Bede that he’s been training and gotten stronger since last time, and he’ll prove it by beating Bede in the Challenger’s Cup. Bede says that he doesn’t stand a chance, and Ash gets fired up and says that he’s gonna win the whole thing.

Bede finally asks who Ash is and he introduces himself; Bede recognizes the name and tells him that he’s not a hotshot just because the Champion has an eye on him. Hop mutters “World Monarch” under his breath as Bede strolls away to go register for the tournament, leaving Ash to wonder what the heck Bede’s problem is.

Ash then asks Hop how he knows Bede and why he never told them that he’s Leon’s little brother. Hop explains that Bede’s the WCS competitor who he lost to that set him on his losing streak, and Bede totally flattened him in their battle. After Hop lost, Bede started saying stuff like what they just heard, about Hop being weak and dragging Leon’s good name through the mud and such. Hop didn’t want to tell people that he’s Leon’s little brother because he was afraid they’d see how weak he was and think worse of Leon for it.

Ash assures him that none of that’s true and Hop says he’s figured that out, so now he just has to prove it to Bede. Ash agrees, but also says that he’s not gonna go easy on Hop or Bede if he battles against them in the cup.

A montage of scenes follows: Goh catches some Pokémon; Ash, Hop, and Bede battle in the tournament. They all dominate in their matches and make it to the semifinals. Hop beats his rando opponent and makes it to the finals, while Ash and Bede battle each other in the semifinal round. Goh comes back in time to watch their battle; he and Hop spectate together, so Hop is able to fill Goh in on who Bede is.

To their dismay, Ash loses to Bede – probably because he was using a Pokémon he had only caught recently or one with a type disadvantage or something. Bede gloats, Hop gets even more determined to defeat him, and the episode ends with Hop preparing to battle Bede.

Episode 6: Hop vs Bede

It’s time for the final match of the Hammerlocke Challenger’s Cup. Bede starts with an all-out offensive strategy using Reuniclus but Hop’s Snorlax is able to take hits really well, so Hop seems to have the advantage at first. Then Reuniclus confuses Snorlax and it starts hurting itself, allowing Bede to defeat it.

Hop sends out Dubwool next and Reuniclus confuses Dubwool as well, but Dubwool is able to break through the confusion thanks to his bond with Hop. Together they’re able to defeat Reuniclus, and then Bede sends out his Hatterene. He Gigantamaxes Hatterene right away, forcing Hop to Dynamax Dubwool as well. Dubwool is then able to defeat Hatterene and win the tournament for Hop.

The prize for winning the Challenger’s Cup is a candy basket filled with Exp. Candies and Dynamax Candies, leading to a gag where Ash tries to eat one of the candies before Hop tells him that they’re meant for Pokémon. The prize also comes with a special bonus – the Leon ball used in Pokémon Camp. Hop finds this absolutely hilarious and decides to call his brother to show it to him.

He makes the call with Ash and Goh, but Goh doesn’t know who Hop’s brother is yet, so he’s shocked when Leon answers. Leon is surprised that Ash and Goh have met Hop – he hadn’t seen Ash participating in the tournament because he’d been too busy to watch it – but he’s proud to hear that his little brother won and laughs at the merch prize. He makes a joke about autographing the ball for Hop, but then he has to go take care of some Champion thing – he promises to call Hop again soon before hanging up.

Bede makes some snide comment behind them about the Champion not making time for his little brother, and Hop gets mad at Bede for eavesdropping. Bede says he shouldn’t make phone calls in a public place if he doesn’t want people to overhear. Hop tries to get Bede to admit that he’s not weak, but Bede only acknowledges that he’s less weak than before and asserts that he’s still a better Trainer than Hop – Hop’s victory was just a fluke. He adds that since he was able to beat Ash, the Champion’s eye will be on him now. Then he strides away with smug confidence. Hop tells Ash not to listen to anything Bede says, and the episode ends with Ash declaring that he’ll beat Bede next time.

Episode 7: Leon’s Day Off

The episode opens with Leon doing boring Champion stuff: meetings, interviews, paperwork, and the like. He makes a comment to Oleana about this being his least favorite part of the job, but she’s not terribly sympathetic and tells him to get to his next meeting. When he gets lost on the way to the meeting, he declares that he needs a break from all this. Then he asks a nearby office worker if they can escort him to the meeting room he’s supposed to be in.

Later, Ash, Goh, and Hop are doing some research task in the Wild Area; Ash and Goh were asked to do it by Professor Cerise and they happened to run into Hop, who volunteered to join them. They’re just finishing up with it when Hop gets a phone call from his mum, who says she misses him and wants him to come home for dinner. Hop awkwardly tells her that he’s with friends right now, and she invites them to come for dinner, too – she’s barbecuing and there will be plenty of food for everyone. Goh says that he wouldn’t mind seeing Hop’s hometown, while Ash was hooked the moment she brought up food. So, the three of them finish what they were doing and head to Postwick together.

Hop points out some landmarks along the way like the Wooloo fields and the Slumbering Weald. They meet Hop’s mum out front of their house and she makes some remark along the lines of being happy for Ash and Goh being friends with Hop because Hop was never as good at making friends as his brother, and Hop gets all embarrassed about it. When Mum finds out that Ash and Goh have traveled here all the way from Kanto, she insists that they spend the night and tells them to go inside and pick out places to sleep.

They head into the living room and Hop invites them to look around, make themselves at home. Ash and Goh take him up on the offer and start looking around at everything. Hop says that if they don’t want to sleep on the floor, then someone will have to sleep on the couch and the other can get the guest room. Then he remembers that someone could use Leon’s room, so he says that they won’t need the couch after all.

However, someone else says that room’s already claimed. They whirl around to see Leon and Charizard standing in the entrance to the living room. He’s wearing totally casual clothes – no cap, no cape, no uniform. Hop greets him with an enthusiastic hug, and Leon says it’s good to see him again. He notes that he wasn’t expecting to see Ash and Goh here, but it’s good to see them again, too.

Ash explains that Mum invited them, and Hop says that they weren’t expecting to see Leon – “Why didn’t Mum say anything?” Leon explains that he took the day off today and decided to come home, and he asked Mum to invite Hop here so that he could surprise his little bro. Hop says that he was definitely surprised. Then he jokes that he’s more surprised that Leon made it home by himself without getting lost, and Leon ruffles his hair and says that Charizard guided him.

Goh’s attention has returned to all the trophies on the wall, and he asks whose they are. Hop sheepishly replies that they’re all Leon’s – he hasn’t won any trophies. Leon asks him what happened to the trophy Hop won at the Hammerlocke Challenger’s Cup and Hop says it’s up in his bedroom; Leon comments that all the trophies he puts up in his bedroom mysteriously migrate to the living room by the time he next comes home. It’s starting to feel a little cramped in the living room, so they all agree to head out to the backyard.

In the backyard, there’s a battlefield and beyond that a pasture where all the Pokémon Hop and Leon have caught are roaming. When Ash sees the battlefield, he gets excited and tells Leon he wants to battle again; Leon’s seriously considering it, but then Mum interrupts to chide him for thinking about battling when he’s supposed to be on vacation. Leon protests that battling is fun, but Mum is insistent that there will be no battling while Leon’s here. She sets the “no-battles” rule for the other boys as well, so Leon won’t get tempted. Ash makes a comment that it feels like something his own mom would do.

They go out to the pasture to play with the Pokémon while Mum cooks. Ash and Goh get to meet Leon’s other Pokémon; Ash and Leon bond over the fact that they both have a Charizard. All of the Pokémon that Hop uses in his in-game battle teams are here, as well as Drakloak, Xatu, and any other miscellaneous Pokémon he might have caught in earlier episodes. Ash is particularly excited to see Cramorant again after not getting to see it back in Episode 2. It’s revealed that Hop’s Cinderace and Dynamax Band were both gifts from Leon, as well as the fact that Leon had told Hop long before he met Ash about the kid from Pallet Town with a Gigantamax Pikachu. Leon and Hop mess with each other a couple of times, and Leon generally demonstrates that he has about as much maturity as the younger three. Overall, everyone’s just having a good time.

When Mum’s finished barbecuing, everyone returns to the backyard for dinner; after dinner, they all start getting ready for bed. Ash opts to sleep on the floor of the guest room while Goh takes the guest bed. As they go to bed, Goh asks Ash if he noticed that the Champion acts differently when he’s at home, but Ash has no idea what he’s talking about. Goh’s not really sure how to put it into words – the best he can describe it is that Leon seems friendlier, but Ash doesn’t get it because Leon’s always friendly. Goh sighs and tells him to forget about it.

Over in Hop’s room, Hop and Dubwool are facing the dilemma that Dubwool is too big to fit in its bed now that it’s evolved. Leon shows up in the doorway and says that Dubwool should just sleep with Hop – half the time when it was a Wooloo, it ended up in Hop’s bed by morning anyways. Hop sticks his tongue out at Leon and pulls out an extra blanket and pillow for Dubwool to sleep on. He arranges it to be comfortable for Dubwool and gets back up, only to realize that Leon is still standing in his room.

Hop asks Lee what’s up and Leon explains that he has to leave early tomorrow morning to make it back to Wyndon in time, meaning he’ll be gone before Hop wakes up. So, he thought he would say goodbye to Hop before they go to bed so he actually gets the chance to do that. Hop is disappointed that Leon has to leave again so soon and he complains about Leon being so busy, but Leon says that that’s just a consequence of being Champion and World Monarch. Hop says that he’ll just have to become the new World Monarch to take some of that burden off Leon’s shoulders, and while he says it in a lighthearted way, Leon responds very seriously that he doesn’t want Hop to be burdening himself with anything and certainly not to try to make things easier on Leon. He’s an adult, he can handle it; Hop should enjoy being a kid while he still can.

Realizing that he just killed the mood, Leon teasingly asks Hop if he’d like Leon to tuck him in and read him a bedtime story. Hop hits Leon with a pillow in response. Leon grabs the pillow from Hop and hits him back, knocking him onto his bed. The two of them share a laugh. Leon says goodbye and goodnight to Hop and gives him a hug before he leaves the room, turning off the lights as he goes.

The episode ends with a shot of the trophy collection in the living room in the morning, to which Hop’s Hammerlocke Challenger’s Cup trophy has been added.

[sammysdewysensitiveeyes]

Finished Legend of Korra, which means I got to see hilarious 4th season asshole Prince Wu, seen here getting shoved out of a Team Avatar group hug:

Performative womanizing aside, he’s clearly got a massive crush on Mako. 

Also appreciated:

Bolin and Varrick bro-ing around.

Asami burying the hatchet with her father.

Asami continuing to be practically perfect in every way, I love her for the exact opposite reasons I love Wu. 

That hand-holding scene.  You know the one.

Varrick developing a conscience and Zhu Li developing a spine, and together they will “do the thing” for the rest of their lives.

Wu turning out to be a decent guy whose voice can tame badgerrmoles.

The flashback episode was a waste of time, but it was slightly redeemed by Wu and Mako’s family completely roasting Mako and his all life decisions.  Also Varrick’s completely inaccurate recounting of the series.

Korra actually being severely hurt, both mentally and physically, by all the crap she’s been through in the last three seasons, and needing time to recover, and struggling to regain her sense of self.

Did I mention Korra and Asami?  YES!

Why does Asami even hang out with Team Avatar so much when she’s got a business to run?  I assume the answer is that she’s an extremely nice angel of a person, and also in love with Korra.

Overall, I think LoK Season 1 was pretty good, Season 2 was a significant drop in quality, Seasons 3 and 4 are the best.  Season 2 wasn’t completely terrible, it just had a fairly bland villain compared to the other seasons, and I have mixed feelings about the history of the Avatar, which seems to reduce it down to a pure “good vs evil” thing.

Generally, I think Korra’s main problem was the creators not knowing how many seasons they would get and therefore being unable to plan ahead.  The first season was pretty good and wrapped things up well because it was originally supposed to be a mini-series.  Amon and Tarrlock were interesting, complex villains, and probably had the potential to do more in the overall LoK story, but since it was supposed to end at Season 1, they are done away with, and Amon’s whole movement comes to nothing.  Season 2 feels like the writers are shaking their heads going, “okay, what now?” and we wind up with a meandering season and a really under-developed villain, and then an epic final battle that, again, felt like it was meant to end the series.  Season 2 had it’s good points, like Varrick, and getting to know Tenzin’s siblings, but it felt largely disconnected from Season 1.  Just taking the same characters and moving them on to the next adventure.

It isn’t until Season 3 that we really get a sense of continuity in the series, since the end of Season 2 has basically changed the world in ways that the characters have to deal with, and Season 3 leads right into Season 4.  It still follows the model of one villain per season, but the last two seasons have a much better sense of an overarching plot.  Meanwhile, original Avatar had the advantage of telling one story over three seasons, so it could really set up plots properly and play the long game with character development.  Things like Zuko’s redemption (which is seeded early in the first season) unfold slowly, so that it really pays off and feels significant when it finally happens.  The heroes are following one basic plotline - Aang has to master the four elements to defeat Fire-Lord Ozai, and by the end, that’s exactly what he does, as opposed to Korra defeating a different big-bad every season. 

I thought Korra was a great show, but it could have been better if the creators had been able to plan properly and not faced the uncertainty of not knowing when the show would actually end.  They could have set up certain plotlines earlier, or expanded on others.  And a more coherent over-arching plot would have better allowed the writers to use all the characters, rather than sometimes appearing to scramble to find something for Mako, Bolin or Asami to do.  (Although I have to admit, I liked Bolin’s movie star plotline.)  They could have introduced characters sooner. or kept others around longer.  Prince Wu, for example, was hilarious, and he got a bit of development, but it was all kind of rushed since he only popped up in the 4th season. 

I genuinely liked that the series dug into more complex issues.  Avatar had it’s fair share of complexity, but was still centered around the goal of “stop the Fire Nation.”  Korra is dealing with an anti-bending revolt, and civil war, and a dictator stepping in to fill a power vacuum left when a ruler dies.  I also liked Korra herself.  She definitely wasn’t Aang.  She was far more confident and aggressive, but I like that, I didn’t want an Avatar who would be exactly like Aang.  Korra’s problem was never mastering the elements (which Aang had to do over the course of the series), it was learning to tap into her spiritual side, and be more thoughtful, and not make rash, stupid decisions, which she often did.  Also liked that the series got a little more bloodthirsty.  Avatar just vaguely hinted that a couple of minor characters died, LoK was like, “Okay, this character gets murdered by having the air sucked out of their lungs and we’re gonna show you, right on screen!”  But I’m also glad that it didn’t go too far in that direction.  I like Avatar remaining a basically happy, feel-good show, even if it means people unrealistically surviving things they really shouldn’t.

Thus concludes my “too many thoughts about Korra.”

[suitetarts]

𝔽𝕠𝕣 𝕥𝕙𝕖 𝕕𝕒𝕟𝕔𝕚𝕟𝕘 𝕒𝕟𝕕 𝕥𝕙𝕖 𝕕𝕣𝕖𝕒𝕞𝕚𝕟𝕘

Pairings: F!Reader/You x The Mandalorian/Din Djarin

Warning: You might die from how cute this is, honestly

Words: 6,984

AO3 Link

A/N: What was going to be a quick fic about the reader teaching Din how to dance became approximately 7k of fluff from Din’s perspective, with sprinkling of angst because this is Din Djarin we’re talking about. I had a lot of fun writing this, let me know what you think. 🥺

In the vast vacuum of space, it felt like one was in a state of unending desynchronosis. The constant hum of the Razor Crest’s yellow lights were a poor substitution for a proper day and night cycle. Stopping on Planet A at midday and going to Planet B to find it was the middle of the night was a daily occurrence. Or, at least as common as days could be when one’s sense of time was as out of sorts as Din’s. As natural as bounty hunting came to a Mandalorian, he was only human and he knew this wasn’t good for him. He couldn’t remember the last time he felt truly rested... But he was used to it.

What he wasn’t used to was travelling with others, namely you and his infant foundling. You two weren't used to his lifestyle either.

Din had been on the run with the kid for about half of a standard year at this point. After Nevarro, after losing Kuiil and IG-11 -- and nearly himself, for that matter --, he had asked Cara to recommend someone he could hire as a crew member. He didn’t know what he was expecting, but he knew that he couldn’t continue taking bounty pucks, be a good dad for the kid, and be his own mechanic (for his ship or his body, really) all at the same time. He knew you were iffy about taking such an odd job, and who wouldn’t be?, but Cara insisted that you meet him before saying no. “This one is something else,” she had said, in reference to you. Cara had smirked at Din then, as they sat in the makeshift cantina on Nevarro waiting for you to join them.

Cara was right, too. Din was surprised you said yes; you were an exceptionally good mechanic (it was honestly overkill to have someone like you on crew to maintain a single ship, even one in such poor of health as the Crest), Din saw the adoring look in your eyes when you first saw his adi’ka -- even as you were hedging that look by saying you weren’t a big fan of kids --, and you could use a blaster and defend yourself, among other things. As Cara walked the three of you back to the Crest, the two women had talked about their time in service to the Rebellion, and how you were a dingy mechanic during the day but the military basecamp’s entertainment at night. Cara’s face was red at the memory, which only made Din more curious. Even on that very first day, while he went through the laundry list of buttons and switches to get the Crest into space, you were mindlessly explaining shield generator capacitors to the baby with a gentle sparkle in your eyes like you had been doing this for years. You were the perfect crew member, but…

If anything, in hindsight, Din was disappointed when Kuiil had turned down his offer of a job. He understood and respected the Ugnaught’s decision to remain free, but the idea of having a crew that Din could form coherent thoughts around was something to be envious of. No offense to Kuiil. Your expertise in your craft was one thing, but Din hadn’t expected you to be so… Funny, thoughtful, smart, genuine, and most of all, cute. You were adorable, graceful, attractive in everything you did, even on that first day when you met him covered in oil from your previous job. He could hardly look at you without his face getting hot underneath his helmet, and even though you couldn’t see how flustered you made him, he would flounder all the same. And Din really needed the full use of his mental capabilities at that time, or at least as much as he could muster. He was running on fumes.

With everything that happened on Nevarro, the child hadn’t slept soundly in weeks. He could hardly sleep for an hour or so without being awoken by shrieks and cries coming from the kid in his pram. That was the main catalyst for Din reaching out to Cara to find you. So when you first joined, after meeting with you and Cara on Nevarro and getting the Crest into space, Din was exhausted beyond belief and splayed out weakly in his pilot’s chair. He watched you settle in to the spare cargo cubby hole that was to serve as your room, just across from the cockpit and above the only proper sleeping quarters on the ship -- the one that Din hardly got the chance to use properly. The stars in the window behind him moved slowly as the three of you sauntered leisurely through space. He remembered hearing a faint sigh as you leaned down to pat at the admittedly thin foam pad that was to serve as your bedding. (He made a mental note to get you something better.) You didn’t have much to put away, which was good, considering how little space Din had to give you.

“Mando!” Your exclamation made him realize his heavy eyelids had fallen shut. “Is that how you sleep?” You giggled at him as you walked out.

“I have a bed,” Din huffed.

“Oh yeah? It doesn’t seem like you use it.”

Din gestured at the kid in his pram with a roll of his wrist. “It’s not easy with the baby keeping me up.”

Your eyes softened with something Din couldn’t quite place, and he remembered the heat dusting his cheeks with the way you looked at him. You quickly turned to the kid, and Din was grateful to be out of your view so he could breathe. In hindsight, it was laughable how quickly you had Din under your spell.

You poked at the kid’s chubby cheeks, earning a content chirp. “I’m assuming you’re feeding him, changing his diapers, keeping him clean, and uh…”

After Din didn’t give a reply, you looked back at him to find that he had responded with an incredulous tilt of his head. 

“You’re a big boy, use your words.” This was the first time you had said that to him, and in the months that followed, Din noticed that you said this a lot. It got on his nerves, but that only seemed to make you say it more.

He had closed his eyes to calm his temper, but his mouth betrayed a playful smile. “Of course I do those things.”

“Just thought I’d make sure.” You smiled innocently back at him before turning back to the kid, whose light, cheerful babble was in contrast to his adopted father’s dark and dramatic pose which took up nearly the entire cockpit. “Does he have a set schedule?”

“Not really,” Din responded flatly after a moment of silence. “He sleeps when he’s tired, he cries when he needs something else.”

“Babies need a schedule, a rhythm.” You checked the chronometer on your wrist before turning back to the kid. “It’s 22:00-ish in my home city, so that’s good enough. We’re getting you to sleep.”

Din watched as you pulled the kid up and out of the pram, all wrapped in blankets against your hip, and was about to sarcastically wish you good luck before it stuck in his throat. 

You had held your free hand out to him.

The blood rushing through his ears was almost unbearable. He was on his feet before his mind could catch up, having not taken you up on your offer.

You mouthed ‘OK’ around an awkward smile before rolling your eyes and pulling your hand back, using it to grab the data pad on your utility belt. As you fiddled with the pad and held the child against your hip, Din stepped back slowly until the back of his knee bumped into the seat of his chair. This cockpit was suddenly too small, and too warm. He looked back at you, at the way you leaned against the doorframe just a tiny bit, at the way your fingers threaded through the baby’s tunic,  and he remembers wondering what the hell he’d gotten himself into.

“Here,” you said, pushing the pad and kid into his arms. His adi'ka beamed at him, raising his ears with a coo as you continued to speak. “I pulled up a video the baby might like. Just hold him and watch it with him for a while, until he sleeps.”

Din cocked his head again, not sure if he heard you right. “I’m not going to sleep, we just--”

“It’ll be fine,” you interrupted. “And the baby might sleep better with you.”

“I can’t do that, I have to--”

“You have to sleep.” You looked at him sternly. Too sternly. Din knew his effect on people was generally fear or intimidation, or at the very least curiosity. You didn’t seem scared of him at all and you hadn’t pestered him with questions about his creed. Did you know how dangerous he was? You either didn’t know or you were seeing right through his armor, both options being out of Din’s comfort zone.

The rap of a knuckle on his pauldron pulled him away from his thoughts “Are you listening to me, Mando? I’m just trying to help.” You spoke softly, only just more than a murmur, which caused the tension in Din’s shoulders to ease. You continued with a boast but kept your voice low. “I’m your expert crew. You should trust me.”

Truthfully, he hadn’t been listening and he didn’t trust you (just yet), but he wasn’t about to say that. He didn’t want to make you upset. He rather liked the way your voice sounded when you talked to him like this. Ever the talker, he kept his response short. “I know.”

Your eyes flickered between your fidgeting hands and Din’s visor, the two of you standing like that for what felt like forever, but was really only a brief pause. His right hand twitched ever so slightly when you cupped your mouth to hide a yawn.

You flashed a tired smile before you twirled towards your room on your tiptoes. You practically sang, “Good night, Mando.”

Good night? Din had not been planet-side for longer than a few weeks since he started his, what you could call, career as a solo bounty hunter in earnest about 15 years ago. He was of course accustomed to wishing people good night or morning, but never in space. He’d never had anyone to wish a good.... anything to out here. It was far too lonely, but that’s not to say Din was lonely, he was just.... 

And by the time that he was back in the moment there with you, ready to wish you a good night on your first night on the ship with him, you had already closed your door. It disappointed him more than he could admit even to himself.

Luckily for Din, every single one of your suggestions proved to be wildly successful. The video you had queued on your data pad was of a couple dancing to some catchy, upbeat tune in a language he didn’t recognize -- which he would later learn was Paldese, your native tongue--, and the kid insisted on watching the video on repeat dozens of times that first “night”. The kid had eventually fallen into a deep, happy sleep in the crook of Din’s arm. Din had slept in his full armor that night, to avoid jostling the baby awake, but even he had gotten an incredibly peaceful five hours after all was said and done. With the imposition of a schedule, Din suffered through the dancing video like clockwork, but the blissfulness of regular sleep was worth every second.

It was… different, life with you and the kid. Different in the best possible way. As the months went on, you had only become more comfortable in your bossy attitude and quips at him, but Din didn’t mind. The jokes at his expense were worth hearing you laugh. 

One time, while the Crest was docked on Rodia, you had asked for him to hold up a piece of the ship’s outer hull while you re-welded it to the frame. As Din walked around you, you stuck a leg out and tripped him, his beskar helmet hitting the landing gear of the ship with a comically loud ping. His minor concussion was the last thing on his mind as you writhed on the ground next to where he fell, your body wrapped in on itself as you wheezed and laughed so hard tears came out of your eyes. And then Din’s heart simultaneously fluttered and stopped dead in its tracks when you composed yourself and crawled over to him on your hands and knees, apologizing in that soft tone he liked so much as you wiped your eyes and asked if he was alright.

Din thought about that memory a lot, as well as the time he comforted you in jest when the baby sneezed all over your face, when you squealed under the ice cold water of the Crest’s shower and he couldn’t help but laugh loud enough for you to hear it, and the time he let you paint his nails with a bit of the silver hull paint. He wasn’t keen on the idea, but being so close to you was… intoxicating. Almost as much as, if not more than, the paint fumes.

Din was not the most experienced flirt, but he did his damndest at first to try to make it obvious that there was… something more to you that he wanted to know better. He felt like a teenage boy again; every interaction with you was like wildfire on his skin and taxed his body as if he’d ran a marathon. But it never seemed like you noticed, and he couldn’t help but feel like a fool. Din wasn’t the best conversationalist either, but he was a fantastic listener. He’d taken mental notes of all of your favorite things, and when he bought soap scented with your favorite flowers and washed your bedroll, or made a real home cooked meal with your favorite spice from home, or any of the other things he did out of this indescribable emotion bursting from his chest, you smiled but never seemed to… You weren’t... Din didn’t know what he expected from you. He wanted more, but it seemed like you didn’t.

Yes, a million times yes, Din was happy to have you... as his crew member, he supposed. Any time with you was better than when he was out on a job, even if he couldn’t be as close to you as he wanted. The kid adored you, and you seemed happy, too. 

He could hear you at night, the pads of your bare feet echoing off the hollow metal above his head. He had your data pad with him and the kid in his bunk, so you were dancing alone to music playing in your head every night. Din had never been much of a music or dancing or frilly-fun-things-like-that person (no Mandalorian was, as far as he knew), and he had told you as much when you first joined him. He wondered if you intentionally hid your dancing, like you didn’t want to include him… Din tried to not think about sad thoughts like that. You didn’t owe him anything beyond what he paid you for, after all. 

But, even if he wasn’t thinking about it, he noticed that you never talked about your dancing with him. Perhaps it was in some attempt to not bore a warrior of his caliber with the details of fine arts, but little did you know, you could never bore him. Din would imagine sitting with you cross-legged on the floor, writing out all of your favorite songs on pieces of paper. One by one, he imagined that you two would pick a song at random, and you would dance for him as he laid back with the kid, maybe even get to hear you sing. It was a self-indulgent dream that Din tried to not dwell on often. But perhaps, if it ever came up in conversation, he could listen to the music that played in your head when you danced. Out of stubbornness or shyness, or something equally stupid, he never asked about any of it. 

Every night when he would start the dancing video for the baby, Din would watch carefully even though it was burned into his retinas. This was your video, after all. The dancers twirled and shook and slid to the music, and it was nearly therapeutic, if it wasn’t also so terribly familiar to him after watching it literally thousands of times. Despite the number of times Din had hit the repeat button on your data pad for this cursed video, he would find himself tapping his foot on the metal hull of the ship to the tune. He had grown bold over the months he spent with you and the child, and hoped beyond a hope that you were listening to him when he danced too.

On this “morning”, the kid began the day like most other days: by shrieking or slapping Din’s neck with a slobbery three-fingered hand. He could sleep without the helmet, since the baby was his adiik, but Din learned the hard way that the kid was not opposed to shoving his spit-covered fingers wherever they fit. So, for Din’s sanity and beauty rest, he kept the helmet on.

Din set the baby down on his cot as he went to wake you up and give you back your data pad, as he always did. And as always, he hesitated for a moment as he watched the gentle rise and fall of your chest, before tapping your shin with his foot.

You pulled your face away from your den of blankets, which Din had practically filled your room with to help you sleep better, and smiled up at him. “G’morning, Mando.”

The blackness of space reflected on his helmet like a shadow, but the smile underneath was bright and warm. “Good morning.”

You squirmed in your blankets, your toes nearly brushing his wool socks before you reached the apex of your stretch and sighed. You sat up and held out your hands expectantly, until Din gingerly took hold of your forearms and pulled you out of your soft nest.

As with any morning on the Crest, it was a delicately orchestrated tried-and-true dialogue between the two of you. A touch here, a joke there, a sigh or gentle puff of static through a voice modulator. A step out of line wasn’t illegal or anything serious like that, but… Din wasn’t sure how to act around you outside of this routine you two had happened to fall in to. He didn’t want to push things, to make you uncomfortable. You were always so nice to him and he didn’t want to take advantage of that kindness.

After everyone was awake, Din would do whatever bit of piloting needed to be done -- in this case, on this day, land the Crest in a nondescript shipyard in the jungles of Eriadu -- and then he would cook breakfast for everyone while you idly chatted to the baby. He watched you and the baby eat while the two of you stated your plans for the day, whether it was a bounty, taking this or that apart on the Crest to fix some capacitor or array, an information hunt for the kid, or just a quick jaunt in a market for spare parts or exotic foods. 

Today it was the latter, much to your delight.

As you got ready for the day up in the cockpit, Din scarfed down bites of his own breakfast in-between putting on pieces of his armor. He had been here before, to Leun, a hidden smuggler’s city tucked in the wilds. The city was heavily guarded by a cartel of rich merchants who called this place home, and the markets were as lively and diverse and secure as one could find out here in the Outer Rim. It would be a safe place to get out, stretch, and maybe even have a good time.

You stomped once at the top of the ladder. “You decent down there?”

Din found that his hands had slowed down in his thoughts, and quickly shoveled the rest of his food into his cheeks before pulling his helmet back on. He choked the unchewed eggs and peppers down his throat, muffling a weak, “All clear.”

You hopped down into the cargo hold like a loth cat, silent and graceful. Din’s eyes looked over you almost on their own, as if he couldn’t stop himself. Your long hair pulled back into a messy bun, the freckles on your shoulders and arms peeking through the sheer sleeves of your blouse, your skirt giving way to the smooth expanse of your bare thighs --

You bent your head down to meet his visor’s gaze, a laugh bubbling from the lips that were caught in your teeth. “Your big boy words, Mando…,” you gently chided.

Din had to fight back the urge to clear his throat as he turned his attention back to fastening his pauldrons. He was supposed to be honorable, for Maker’s sake. Din thanked his lucky stars that you gave him mercy and didn’t comment further on his stare. Shit, he really hoped you weren’t uncomfortable now. You seemed fine though... His thoughts were racing even faster than when he was looking at you; the way you looked at him, your eyes crinkling from smiling so widely, knowing that he was looking at you, and-- and you weren’t upset? Again, you seemed totally fine? And what ‘big boy words’ did you want him to use--?

He really had to stop thinking so much. He was going to give himself an aneurysm trying to figure you out.

“Let’s go,” Din called out as he opened the hatch and set security protocols with his vambrace. You clamored up to his side almost immediately, with one hand wrapped along the kid’s bottom and the other snaking through the crook of Din’s elbow.

It took everything in him to not melt in that moment, and every moment afterwards. As the three of you walked out of the shipyards and towards the markets, you kept your grip on his arm tight and he did his absolute best to not overthink the gesture and just enjoy himself. When your arm holding the child became visibly tired and Din reached in to take the bundle, his gloved hand brushed the side of your ribs and he sucked in a breath when he could have sworn you leaned into the touch.

Don’t think too much, just have a good time.

When you entered the food area of the markets, and came across a stand that sold massive jellied tauntaun eyeballs, you squirmed, hiding under his arm. Din idly hoped that you would stay there, that he could have his arm on your shoulders as you strolled. But you quickly ducked away, hiding your face from him. The blush on his cheeks only heated up at your sudden shyness.

Don’t think too much, Din.

By the time you and Din were fairly exhausted from all the shopping, flirting, and the ever-present moist heat of the jungle, he rented a small cart to haul back all of the various ship parts, tools, cloth, ammunition, household goods, and consumables the three of you had bought. It was still daylight, but your chronometer had beeped a good hour ago, warning you all that it was getting late as far as your internal clocks were concerned. The cart was fairly heavy, especially with you and the child laying on it and staring up at the colorful and bright canopy above your heads, but Din pushed it along the streets back towards the shipyards with an easy smile playing on his lips all the same.

When you two finished unloading the cart, Din closed up the Crest for the “night” and started the auxiliary engine just to get the climate controls going. The cool, dry recycled air coming out of the vents was a welcome comfort, with Din mindlessly pulling his cape away from his neck for a moment to let the air travel between his heavy layers.

“Uh, Mando?”

Din jumped out of his skin at your voice and nearly strained his muscles to stop his body from dramatically flattening itself to the wall. On the surface though, he seemed as collected as ever as he put the cloth back on his neck and held his hand over his feverish skin. “Yeah?”

You gestured to your utility belt, to the empty holster where your data pad usually sat. “Um….”

A pause, but then he realized what happened. “Shit,” Din sighed, the hand on his neck now serving to support his head as he leaned into it. 

“I didn’t even notice. I’m sorry.”

“What? Don’t be sorry…” Din wanted to say more, but it caught in his throat. Sure, your data pad being stolen was kind of shitty, but what made his blood boil was the fact that he didn’t even notice. He had let his guard down too much, and let himself be distracted. You could have been seriously hurt and it was his fault. He wanted to punch the wall, but the last thing he wanted was to frighten you. Or make you fix the dented hull panel. He sighed again, letting his hand fall from his neck lazily. “I should have been watching you more closely. I’m the one who’s sorry.”

Your blank, apologetic face quickly turned up into a shy blushing smile. “Hmm… I think you watched me plenty close, Mando.”

It was as if Din’s brain short circuited and shut down. You had called him out twice now today, held his arm in the markets like the two of you were some sort of... pair? (Was he allowed to say that?), touched him so so much-- This was all more than he was emotionally equipped to handle, honestly. He quickly scrounged his empty helmet for any coherent, relevant thoughts before the blood rushing to his face killed him.

“We’ll need another data pad for the kid. I’ll go back out to the market,” Din rasped. He pried himself off the wall and began to move towards the closed bay door, but a hand pulling on his own stopped him dead in his tracks.

“No…” you started, facing his boots. You looked up at him through your lashes and it surprised him to find you so red. “No, we don’t need the data pad.”

This was the cherry on top of the sundae that was your unscripted touches. Din was undone, unraveled, broken under your tender gaze and warm touch. His hand suddenly ached, the heat from yours seeping through his gloves and straight into his bloodstream, and the only reprieve that felt right was to squeeze. He did so gently, carefully… as if to protect this blessed moment from shattering under his fingertips.

“W-we don’t?” he asked with an uncharacteristic stammer, his mouth suddenly parched.

Hearing and feeling Din’s reaction to your bold and admittedly uncalculated moves gave you the confidence to look at him fully, to take his other hand in yours as well, and to pull him to the middle of the cargo hold. He did so willingly, more than willingly, giving you the reins.

You began to trip over the words spilling out of your mouth at the velocity of a snail, which was very unlike you. “I know you don’t, uh... We could try... Do you want to...?”

Din was anything but frustrated with you, standing here in the middle of his ship with your hands in his and clutched to his chest, his ribs surely getting bruised from the jackhammering of his heart. However, his patience was uncharacteristically thin at the moment, wanting everything you were willing to give as soon as you were comfortable letting him have it, and so he embarrassed himself by squeaking out, “What is it?”

“We could dance like in the video,” you quickly blurted, as if you were thankful for him releasing you from your stammering torment. Din felt you tug at your hands slightly as you hedged your idea, but he didn’t let go. “I know you don’t like that stuff though, I just… I just thought it would be fun. T-to dance with you.”

Din was generally one to think over his words carefully before he spoke, making sure he was getting the right intentions across. He had learned early on in his training with the Mandalorians that silence was a powerful tool, and it became a tool he was expertly acquainted with. But with you, it seemed like Din couldn’t stop unfiltered words from tumbling out of his, well, voice filter. 

“Dancing? Th-that sounds nice.”

The way your eyes lit up, the way your tongue peeked out from your wide toothy smile, the way your arms trembled when you squeezed his hands as tight as you could… Din couldn’t breathe all the sudden, and he found himself on unsteady legs.

While Din was letting this all sink in, you were checking over your shoulder that the baby was laying down on his cot and looking at the two of you. Then, you loosely lined your feet up with his for the first steps of the dance.

“Alright, so put your hand here…” You pulled one of his hands down to the high waist of your skirt and, with the other, stretched yours and Din’s arms out to a point. Your voice was steadier now than before, and he realized you were teaching him the steps. 

Din all the sudden remembered that he couldn’t dance and that he was about to make a terrible fool out of himself. 

As you continued your quick rundown of the dance with you teaching him the man’s steps, a small part of Din wanted to retreat to the cold, solitary comfort of the cockpit. But his pounding head, his fluttering heart, the butterflies in his gut, his feverish skin, his chapped lips, and practically everything else rattling around inside his armor ordered him to stay. You had him there, and despite everything that Din was -- a Mandalorian, a cold-hearted bounty hunter, a murderer even -- he really wanted to know what you felt like in his arms. Were you as every bit as soft, warm, and inviting as you were in his dreams? The idea that Din could have that knowledge in real life was tearing him apart at the seams.

“Do you have the steps down?” you asked, the excitement obvious in your voice. “I’ll start singing once you say yes.”

“In that case, uh...” Din said breathlessly, buying himself a brief moment in an attempt to prevent a heart attack.

You flustered, mistaking his need for a break as unsteady hesitation. “Mando, you-- you don’t have to dance with me if you don’t want to. I’m sorry, I--”

“No, no no,” he murmured. Of its own accord, the hand he had on your shoulder found its way to your jaw, his thumb mindlessly tracing your cheekbone. Din would have been stunned into silence by his own body’s involuntary betrayal, but the way your eyes had watered from just the idea that he didn’t want to be here with you… It had him running on pure instinct, an instinct he didn’t know he had. 

“I don’t dance, you know that,” he started, and then subsequently paused as he searched for the right words, which made a strangled sound come out of your chest. Din immediately wanted to kick himself; that wasn’t what he should have said, this is why he needed to remember to think before he started running his mouth. Before he got too wrapped up in punishing himself in his head, he nearly bit his tongue as he quickly finished his thought, “B-but I want to! I want to. I want to dance with you.”

“Fuck’s sake, Mando,” you whimpered weakly, pushing him away but keeping your grip on his shoulders tight. You pulled him back in after a second, but even closer, until your chest was pressed against Din’s cool beskar and your hands clasped a hair's-width away from the nape of his neck. It wasn’t a tight, flush press or anything scandalous like that, but he was rigid as a board regardless. He had been overwhelmed a hundred times over today, and it appeared that you weren’t done shocking his system quite yet.

“Loosen up, this is supposed to be fun,” you scolded playfully.

“I am loose,” Din muttered defensively, rolling his shoulders underneath your forearms to prove his statement. You didn’t seem as convinced as he’d hoped you’d be when you rolled your eyes at him. His face was nearly in pain with how much he’d been smiling, and it only got wider at your silent rebuke. He added in a whisper, barely loud enough to be caught by his helmet, “... and I am having fun, really. I’m… I’m ready when you are.”

You pulled your lips between your teeth as you closed your eyes at his voice, the happiness too much for you to contain as you took in a few deep breaths. Din took the opportunity to breathe as well; he found that he kept holding the air in his chest with every little thing you did to him.

With your eyes still closed, you sang the first word and made the first step at the same time, pulling at Din to take the lead. He recognized the song immediately, which wasn’t surprising, but it sounded so… new. The data pad made everything sound tinny, the singer was a deep baritone, the instruments were intense, and the footfalls of the dancers were annoyingly loud. The way you sang this song -- with Paldese lyrics he could sing himself (if he dared), after the thousands of times he listened to it for the baby, but had never bothered to search the meaning of -- was slow, quiet, and romantic. The dance, which was a fast-paced cavort that required a wide open space, was slowed down and achingly intimate to meet the tempo of your voice. 

Din wasn’t a very good dancer, as he expected. He should have taken off his boots, as he’d stepped on your feet a couple times already, and he was missing steps more often than he remembered them, but you didn’t seem to mind. With a wide, mischievous smile on your face, you guided his resting arm to your shoulders and held onto him by his waist, leading the dance fully. Din could have sworn that his cheeks could be used as a cooking skillet when he realized what you did, but you couldn’t see his embarrassment and you didn’t seem to mind or have issues with taking the lead… And if he was being honest with himself, this was fine. More than fine. Fantastic, great, even. But even those words failed to match how he felt. He was lighter than air as you sang to him and led him through the dance, and it was everything he’d ever wanted in all the time that he’d known you.

After what felt like a blissful eternity of yours and Din’s bodies moving together to the soft intonations of your voice, you sang the last note of the song, holding on until your voice faltered and your chest fell with more than just an exhalation of air. He saw it on your face and he felt it too: the slightest tinge of sadness to what was otherwise the best five minutes or so of his life, because those five minutes were over. You two held onto the embrace for as long as you dared, lungs heaving to catch up despite (or because of?) the intimately slow dance you shared. Din was speechless as he searched your eyes for any indication that he should let go, because Maker knows he didn’t want to.

His body decided the answer to that unspoken question when the baby made a noise -- a sudden reminder that there was anything else in this galaxy outside of the warmth of your skin separated from his own by only the leather of his glove -- and he involuntarily jolted away from you towards his cot. The dance over, the trance broken, the moments shared between you and him only another memory for Din to revisit in his head… 

He turned towards the baby in a sense of duty, the only thing keeping him from running to you and pulling you close once more. The child was sleeping, which only proved to make Din feel worse even though it was why you two had danced in the first place. He looked back over at you -- still frozen where he had left you in the middle of the cargo hold -- with a sigh and a tired shrug in his shoulders.

You relaxed at his sigh, slouching forward with a chuckle. “I guess it’s bedtime.”

‘Only if you want it to be,’ he wanted to say.

What Din actually said was much more predictable, succinct. “...Yes.”

You blushed and smiled at him before ascending to the cockpit and your room, but he caught a look in your eye of something else. Like he had said what you expected, but not what you hoped for. 

Din dwelled on that look as he freed himself from his armor. He found his skin underneath to be cold, sweaty, and prickled with goosebumps. Whether it was from you or the climate controls, he couldn’t be sure, but it was definitely not as hot in the Crest as it had been (or as Din hoped it would be)… It was going to be more difficult for him to control his thoughts, wasn’t it? 

When Din finished up, he found himself stuck. The kid was in the center of the cot and there was no way he was going to be able to maneuver himself into a comfortable position without waking the baby up. Din wasn’t about to risk it either, since he was sans your data pad and he didn’t have the emotional energy to ask you to dance with him again just yet. 

He opted to sleep in his pilot’s chair. It was better than sleeping on the floor’s metal grates, and he could darken the visor on his helmet so that the light from the windows wouldn’t keep him awake. And… and it was closer to you, although that was only a tertiary bonus.

Din quietly climbed up the ladder and stalked over to the pilot’s chair, slightly dragging his feet so that his footfalls were muffled by his socks. Your door was still closed, so far so good. He set himself down in the chair slowly so that he could lean into where he knew the creaks and squeals would be. It was a valiant effort on his part to not bother you, but he quickly found that he’d failed when your door slid open, your head and shoulders peeking out from your nest of blankets.

“Mando?”

Din sighed and stood up, not trying to hide the loudness of his damned chair as he released it from his weight. He spoke in a whisper as he walked towards your door, and crouched so that he was at eye level. “Sorry, I didn’t want to move the kid. Or sleep on the floor.”

His tone indicated a thinly veiled attempt to get an invitation from you, although the second it came out of his mouth he wanted to stab himself. Thankfully, you were too sleepy to catch onto his forward advance.

“Ah, well… I never did thank you, for dancing with me,” you murmured shyly, hiding between the blanket and your eyelashes as you spoke. “It was… really nice.”

Having just mentally mutilated himself over his unfiltered words to you, Din paused to think of an honest and dignified response. How was he supposed to be a dignified Mandalorian when he wanted to rip off his helmet and lay down with you, though? How was he supposed to put his feelings to words, when those feelings would surely scare you off? 

Din didn’t notice it at first, but your eyes flitted back and forth between where you thought his eyes were, your shoulders inching up with bold anticipation with each sweep of your irises. You finally couldn’t take it anymore, jumping forward and kissing his helmet where you thought his cheek would be. You quickly slunk back into the safety of your blankets, your face pure red and stretched taut with an unmistakably impish and flirtatious smile.

Din’s first response was to freeze, which paradoxically went against all of his training and expertise as a Mandalorian warrior. Then, he felt the ghost of a touch where your lips would have landed, and the swelling of his chest threatened to bring tears to his eyes. His bare fingertips traced the receding warmth of your kiss on his beskar.

“Use your big boy words, Mando.”

Din tried to form a comprehensible thought that could even vaguely be relevant, but even just words by themselves weren't coming to him.

“It’s okay, big guy,” you cooed, wrapping your hand around the door. You pulled the edges of your mouth apart in a sort of excited terror as you added on, “I like you, too. Good night.”

The sunlight reflected off his helmet, turning the dull yellow of the jungle sun into fractals of shimmering rainbows against your skin as you pulled your door closed. Before your door shut completely, Din made sure you heard him as he softly wished you “Good night.”

[willow-salix]

Fluffember prompt: Rose

Day 11 of Isolation on Tracy Island 2.0 and I would like you all to know that, while Virgil was very nice to write my update for me yesterday, he’s also a complete liar. I did not fall asleep on the couch, I was watching the movie the whole time…

Anyway we all got up late today, since we didn’t get to bed until late and even then it hadn’t been easy to get to sleep. I’d woken up a few times but a quick look at the clock to estimate the amount of time I’d actually been asleep, coupled with a warm John to snuggle meant that I gave in to the lure of oblivion twice before I actually got up.

I felt like death, which was strange, because usually caffeine has little to no effect on me, I can only assume that the added stress of Alan hopped up on coffee beans was the catalyst to my zombie-like state. 

Alan, it transpired, was going through an even worse caffeine hangover than I was, at least I had a little resistance. He was groaning from his bedroom complaining of a headache and full body shivers. 

So yes, we were certainly feeling delicate and, even though I desperately wanted a coffee to wake me up enough to function I knew that it would probably be a bad idea. So there I was, sipping on a hot chocolate (I delivered one to Allie too), munching slowly on a corner of my toast and just hoping that the world would stop spinning today when Grandma came in.

“What are you planning on doing today?” she asked, not bothering to offer a greeting, no good morning, no hello, nothing. I glanced over at Scott who shrugged and sipped his tea ( he was avoiding coffee too, Virgil wasn’t but it takes a LOT to put that boy off his brown nectar).

“No plans,” I was forced to admit. I saw Scott shake his head sadly, like I’d just doomed myself. I obviously wasn’t on top of things today, my brain is mush.

“Good, then you can help me with some chores.” 

I resisted the urge to groan, looking over at the big bros for support…

“Huh, where did they go?” Grandma asked me.

“Unfortunately, I don’t know,” I sighed, gulping my cocoa and wishing it was something stronger and possibly alcoholic.

“Then I guess we’ll have to work twice as hard!”

 “Yes, Grandma.”

                    ***

“John,” I whispered into my comm as I hid in a corner of the library.

“Yes?” he popped up in his hologram form, not looking at me straight away, clearly distracted by whatever he was working on.

“I have a question.”

He turned to look at me. I saw him pause, his eyes darting around, taking in my surroundings.

“I have a question too, why are you hiding behind a curtain? Where even is that?”

“Library,” I settled back against the wall. Perched on the windowsill I was indeed hiding behind a curtain. “Grandma gave me a chore list.”

“Ah,” he said, not needing to add anything else, that said it all really. “You had a question?”

“Oh, yeah, I did.”

“What was it?”

“Oh, she's made me do three loads of laundry, I’ve dusted her ornaments, cleaned the two bathrooms, which is all I'm doing by the way, I’m not touching the ensuites, they’re on their own with them.”

“A wise decision,” he agreed, crossing his arms, leaning back on nothing, suspended in midair, showing he was in the comms sphere, clearly sensing that this would be a long story. There’s no rushing me when I’m trying to explain things, you just have to accept that you're along for the ride.

“I’ve helped her change the bedding in the guest rooms, why I have literally no clue, since no one can come and visit anyway and this is a secret base and it’s not like we do a lot of tours or anything…” I trailed off, seeing the raised eyebrow of doom on my boy. “What else did we do…” I mused, trying to think and hurry my thought process along. “Cleaned all the old food out of the fridge, vacuumed the lounge and now I’m here.”

“And why are you in there? Apart from hiding from more chores, obviously?”

“Because I needed to ask you what was going on.”

Was that an eye roll? I’m pretty sure it was. 

“Going on with what? You’re the one that was filling me in on your day.”

“What’s with the Grandma?”

“Grandma?”

“Yes, Grandma. I’ve been going from room to room, ticking things off her chore list but…”

“But what?”

“Babe, I hate to ask this, but is Grandma going a little…” I couldn’t say it out loud so I settled for the universal sign that is a finger twirl to the side of my head.

“Explain.”

“Babe, I don't usually question the wiseness of Grandma's logic but this time…well...she's got me watering plastic plants,” I whispered, making a conscious effort not to shout as I usually would. News like this needed to be delivered in a delicate way, a supportive, understanding way. No one wanted to hear proof that their, let’s face it slightly elderly, grandmother was going a little cuckoo in her golden years.

I watched him carefully, it wouldn’t do to be upsetting him when he was so far away 22,400 miles away to be exact, and I couldn't be with him, but to my surprise his face registered nothing but relief with a hint of...amusement? OK, maybe a hint was being generous. 

“Dude, are you laughing at me?”

“No, love.”

“Lies! You’re laughing right now!”

“I’m laughing with you, not at you,” he promised, sobering slightly.

“Laughing with me implies that I should be laughing too, so either share the joke with the rest of the class or bugger off.” I was not impressed and fast losing patience with the love of my life.

“Sorry, sorry,” he coughed, clearing his throat in an effort to regain his composure.

I waited, arms crossed in a mirror of his earlier pose, lips slightly pursed, eyes narrowed, he sooo knew he was in trouble.

“Let me tell you a little story,” he began, finally calm enough to talk to me properly.

“Go on then, I’m listening.”

“Grandma has always loved her plants, she used to garden a lot,” he started and as usual when he spoke, I listened, one because I needed to know what was going on and two, because I just love his voice and would happily listen to him reading a menu if he so chose. I wiggled a little to get comfier and prepared to be entertained, because every story John tells is entertaining in its own way, mostly because he just sounds so fed up and done with life as he tells it. 

“She said that she found it relaxing to tend them, it gave her time to think and to order her thoughts. She would talk to them like they were her children and no one dared touch them.”

I nodded to show I was following so far.

“When we moved to the island and got busier with International Rescue it obviously started taking up a lot of time for all of us,” he reclined himself back into his lazy float giving me a nice view I must say (I’m sure he did it on purpose).

“The busier we got, the less time she had to devote to them, the more we did the more she forgot about them and it wasn’t long before the first one died. She came down one morning and noticed that it’s leaves were dried out and brown and it was slumped over in its pot. She tried, we all did, but there was no reviving it.” His tone was so serious that I couldn’t help but giggle.

“Grandma was really sad, so we decided to help if we could. Unfortunately, as it turned out, none of us have a particularly green thumb. We did our best, but failed spectacularly. As we always say, you can’t save everyone, and that isn't limited to humans.”

I nodded encouragingly, wishing I had a mug to sip from 'cause my boy was spilling the tea!

"When we noticed another was, as Gordon put it, on its way out, we stepped in before it happened and fixed it."

"You fixed it? Like it was a broken processor or something? How do you fix a dying plant?" 

He stayed quiet. 

"John?" I lifted an eyebrow demandingly. 

"We switched it out for a plastic one," he finally admitted. 

"John!" I was shocked, shocked at their sneakiness and the sheer balls of pulling off such a move right under her nose. 

"I know, I know, it was awful of us. But we couldn't think of anything else to do. She was so sad every time she lost one and we couldn't stand it."

"How many times did you do this? Because I have yet to find a real live one."

"I think you just answered your own question."

"All of them? Like every single one?" 

"Well, not all of them, the bonsai in the lounge is still alive, but that's mostly Kayo and Virgil that tend it. Kayo learnt from her dad, he loved to garden. And the outside plants usually do OK. We have timed watering for then with both underground pipework and an overhead sprinkler system. And Kayo will do a little maintenance on them, cutting them back and the like, whenever she has time which isn't often. We don't really get weeds here as the seeds have nowhere to carry from, so it's just upkeep of the plants themselves."

 "But every houseplant other than the bonsai…"

"All fake," he confirmed. 

"And you never told her? She didn't notice?" 

"No, not that we know of, the fact that she gave you the job of watering them confirms that. We just kept offering to look after them for her and she let us do it. We bought the best quality we could, they look very realistic." He said that last like it made the whole thing more OK. "We did it for her, we didn't want her upset."

"Well, I honestly don't know what to think about all that," I confessed. And I really didn't, they were such sneaky little sods when they wanted to be, dangerous when working together. Sure they did it with the best of intentions and for the right reasons but still I did need to know one thing… 

"Whose idea was it?" 

"Idea?" he repeated, clearly deflecting. 

"Yes, who thought up the idea of swapping them?" I knew the answer, he knew that I knew, I just needed him to confirm it. 

Slowly he lifted his hand. 

"Yep, not surprised. Totally called it," I grinned. 

"Then why did you ask?" 

"Because sometimes I need to remind myself what a deliciously devious man you are." 

"You're a strange woman."

"A strange woman that your dumb ass married," I reminded him. 

"We all have our weak moments," he quipped but I didn't take it seriously. "I should probably get back to work, just hide out there for another few minutes and call the job done."

I nodded, seeing the sense in his words. "How long will you be?" 

"Just another few hours, I should be done by dinner."

"OK, but I'm holding you to that, Space Man." 

"Wouldn't expect anything less."

I blew him a little kiss which he dutifully pretended to catch, with much eye rolling, before he clicked off, cutting the connection. 

Sighing , still unable to believe what I'd just heard I drew back the curtain I was sheltering behind and dropped down from the windowsill. I grabbed my phone, tucking it into my pocket as I turned round. 

"Grandma!" 

There she was, waiting for me like a silent septuagenarian ninja, arms folded, one foot tapping out an annoyed rhythm. 

"Hi," I greeted, taking an unconscious step backwards. Would she notice if I threw myself out of the window like a weak willed victorian maid whose husband hadn't returned from the war? 

She glared at me. Yep, she'd notice alright. 

"Done with the chores?" she asked in a voice that told me she already knew the answer. As far as I could tell I had three choices, lie through my teeth, tell her the truth or deflect like my name was John Tracy and I was late home. 

"Well, there was a lot on the list…"

"Oh knock it off," she huffed. "I heard everything."

I slumped, there was no deflecting this.

"I'm very disappointed in you, young lady."

"I know, I'm sorry, I-" 

"I can't believe you let yourself get dragged into one of their idiot schemes. I expected better of you."

"I'm sorry, I know I let you down."

"Too right you did, I've been waiting the best part of five years for them to tell me the truth, I had hoped you'd call them out on it but they ended up with another conspirator. Perfect."

"I said I was sorry, I- wait, you knew?" 

Grandma rolled her eyes in a move that was so very John. "Of course I knew, how stupid do you think I am?" 

I sighed in relief that I wouldn't have to pull off this charade any longer, hell, I'd only been involved for five minutes and it felt like a year. "I did wonder, I mean, I noticed straight away and I don't even know that much about plants. When did you find out?" 

"Not long after they started," she shrugged. "I just didn't tell them."

"John did say they bought the best quality plants they could find," I said, feeling the need to defend my man and his idiot brothers. 

"Oh, they did that alright. They are beautiful and less work than the real thing, honestly I liked my plants because they gave me something to do, they kept me occupied but when this organisation took off I didn't need them any more."

"Then why not tell them?" 

"Because it was funny to watch them pretend to water them every week, plus I was waiting for then to realise how stupid they had been."

"Which they didn't," I supplied. 

"No, they didn't, which surprised me, I thought I'd raised them to be smarter than that." 

"They were pretty smart with it," I argued. 

"Smart? They replaced every plant that died."

"Yeah, that was kinda the point."

"Which would have been fine, if they had paid attention to the plants themselves. Roses that bloom for four years are a dead giveaway."