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florenceandthemachine · 4 years ago

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hear your heartbeat

happy birthday to the incomparable @elisela!!! just for you, please enjoy a good fake-dating au with plenty of idiotic and family members abound.

12.5k - on Ao3

—————

“I’m telling you, Scotty. New York has been good to me. Maybe we should just renounce California and stay here for the summer.”

“Don’t joke about that, dude.”

Stiles laughed as he shouldered his phone, taking in the city air as he strolled along the streets of Manhattan.

Needless to say, Manhattan was far from home—while the city certainly was his vibe, Stiles was no stranger to tamping down the champagne tastes that clashed with his tapwater budget. The little shitbox apartment he got through NYU’s housing program was almost a thirty minute train ride from school, but Stiles figured that when he was more or less trapped on campus for nearly fifty hours a week, he could justify spending his breaks wandering the streets of Manhattan and really taking in the city.

On today’s agenda, Stiles was looking forward to wandering around a farmers market that literally stretched on for city blocks. There were fruits and vegetables literally as far as the eye could see, spices and roots and mysterious tubers of all shapes and size, but Stiles didn’t give a flying fuck about the food—his real interest were the vendors and the shoppers.

He had learned early on that open air markets like this were perfect meeting grounds for mythical beasts of all shapes and sizes, so, what better palace for him to do some… field work, so to speak?

There were nymphs who had full bouquets of beautiful flowers that lived suspiciously long in their vases as long as you complimented the blooms on a regular basis. Dryads who sold the most delicious fruit he had ever tasted, even if they charged six bucks for a pear.

Stiles had learned early on to avoid the fae—basically, any stand that sold crystal or metalcraft. His first time at the market, he had somehow wound up spending nearly four hundred dollars on quartz; the moment the money had left his hand, the stall had all but vanished in front of him.

“The people are good here. They’re fast. Blunt. Sarcastic. My kind of people.”

“Uh huh.”

Scott liked to call their whole situation lucky.

When Stiles applied to NYU’s doctorate program, he expected rounds and rounds of interviews, lists of deadlines he needed to memorize, and some less-than-subtle digs at his proposed field of study (which was fair, honestly—he knew that criminology and mythology rarely mixed).

What he didn’t expect was Scott, though, the bro of all bros. When Stiles told him he was applying to NYU, Scott had cheered him on, helped him prepare, and then immediately applied to different veterinary positions through the state.

(Scott was golden, obviously—he had years of training, letters of recommendation from everyone he had ever met, and him being a werewolf basically made him the animal whisperer.)

At the end of the day, Stiles got to pursue his passion thanks to a hodgepodge of grants at NYU, and Scott was awarded a fellowship in veterinary medicine through the Bronx Zoo. What kind of weird twist of luck would let the best friends wind up together across the country like that?

So, yeah, Scott called it luck.

Stiles called it karmic retribution for their supremely fucked-up years at Beacon Hills High, but even he could admit that ‘luck’ sounded nicer... and if Stiles was being honest, ‘luck’ was definitely the best way to classify his meeting Derek Hale.

Derek Hale was smart, he was sarcastic, and he could go toe-to-toe with Stiles over completely obscure things for literal hours. He was a first-year professor at NYU, who had the tiny office right next to the broom closet Stiles had managed to shove PHD desk into, and he was probably the only other person in the program that took mythology seriously (meaning he was the only person who didn’t make Stiles want to put his head through the wall).

He was also hot as fuck, but that was beside the point. Stiles had a little bit of a massive crush, but that was also beside the point.

They had built up a fast friendship based on a series of arguments about the Necronomicon, of all things, and Stiles loved the thought of being friends with someone who didn’t know him as the weird kid in high school who knew way too much about ritual sacrifice and circumcision.

He had evened out a lot through undergrad. He was still awkward, sure, but he was awkward with a refillable prescription for Adderall and some sort of brain-to-mouth filter.

(Honestly, the fact that Stiles had managed to avoid making a single joke about the werewolf who was stuck teaching Mythology 101 really did speak volumes to his newfound maturity.)

Speaking of Derek, though…

“Stiles! Hey, Stiles!”

Stiles almost jumped a foot in the air as he heard his name called, doing a spectacular near-drop-mid-air-catch of his phone as he regained his footing, turning on the spot to see a taller woman with jet black hair waving him over.

She was… okay, she was gorgeous—dark hair, smooth skin, someone who looked like she just stepped out of one of the windows on Fifth Avenue—but Stiles was decently distracted, because standing beside her was Derek Hale, the object of his extremely private affection for the past few months. Who, for whatever reason, was standing there looking like he wanted the sidewalk to open up and swallow him whole.

“Scotty, I’ll see you tonight, yeah? I gotta go.”

Stiles pocketed his phone as he cautiously made his way over to the pair—trio, he corrected, because there was another woman with them, looking incredibly more invested in the conversation now that another party was joining them.

He hiked his canvas a bit higher up as he smiled, trying to remember where he had seen the two before… students, maybe, but if that were the case, they would know Derek, not Stiles. They weren’t faculty members, he was sure of that. Donors to the program, maybe?

Well, if they were donors, Stiles sincerely hoped that Derek would have tried harder to wear literally any expression other than his current ‘bitter and miserable’.

And if they were donors, why were they so fucking happy to see him?

“I’m Laura. This is Cora.”

The taller of the two women extended her hand confidently as Stiles got within arms reach, and he instinctively reached out to take it, Cora following suit. “Derek has told us all about you. I have to say, I figured there was at least a ten percent chance you were made up, but… here you are!”

“Here I am!” Stiles was officially lost, but he kept his smile up, cheeks pinking up a little bit as he turned back to Derek. “You’ve been talking about me?” he asked, his voice on the line between flattered and teasing, nudging Derek playfully as he tilted his head.

“Stiles, I—“

“Of course he has! Derek’s a private guy, sure, but you can’t be surprised he told us about his new—“

“Laura—”

“Lord, Derek, calm down. You already had your big bisexual awakening, I’m allowed to be excited to meet your first boyfriend.” Laura shot back, her glare rivaling Derek’s absolute best ‘listen to teacher’ look, and Stiles could see the muscle in his jaw start to twitch. He probably would have done something, but… he was basically short circuiting, brain trying to keep up with whatever the fuck Laura had said, because Derek now had his arm around Stiles’ waist.

Derek had a big bisexual awakening?

And a boyfriend, apparently?

How had Stiles missed that??

“Stiles, these are my sisters, Laura and Cora Hale.”

Okay, great, they were Derek’s sisters. Stiles didn’t even know that Derek had sisters, which was a little sad if he thought about it.

Thankfully, he didn’t have long to think about it, because Derek—

“This is Stiles, my… my boyfriend. Now stop bombarding him. Give him half a fucking second before you go a thousand miles an hour.”

Oh—oh God. Stiles was the boyfriend.

He had seriously missed something, then—he didn’t think he had confessed his feelings for Derek anytime recently, or he probably would have died from embarrassment. Scott was really good at hiding his phone when he was drinking, which ruled that entire scenario out. Stiles could be forgetful at times, sure, but he thought he would remember if he had managed to score himself a boyfriend.

He looked up at Derek, trying to ignore the sudden burn of contact where their bodies were pressed together, but his brain was extremely focused the moment that he caught the look on Derek’s face, there and gone in a flash. He felt the hand squeeze at his waist, and the message was clear enough.

Please.

Ah, well. Stiles was always good at bullshitting, and this was no exception.

“No, no, Der, it’s fine! It’s good to meet you both, sorry, I wasn’t even expecting to see Derek until… uh, later, let alone meet anyone new,” Stiles said, his voice 100% betraying his nerves as it picked up an octave.

Laura’s voice was much more evenly toned, even if it was a little teasing. “Oh? You two have big plans tonight? We aren’t interrupting anything, are we?” she said with a grin, giving the distinct impression that even if they were interrupting, she and her sister wouldn’t be leaving until they were good and ready. Stiles felt his mind kick into overdrive, waving the question aside.

“Oh, nothing like that. We were going to meet up with my friend Scott for dinner, introducing the boyfriend to the best friend, you know how it is,” he continued, hoping his little chuckle wasn’t too terribly fake as he reached up to pat the lapels of Derek’s jacket, letting his fingers linger a little too long on Derek’s chest as he nodded.

He hoped that she knew how it was. Hell, Stiles didn’t even know how it was. He hadn’t exactly been rolling in romance since moving across the country.

“Well, if you say so,” Laura mused, raising a perfect brow, head tilted to the side. “You look like you’re about to pass out, Stiles. You alright?”

And, okay, Stiles knew enough to know what that meant. It meant that her super-sonic ears could hear his heart trying to break through his ribs with a staccato beat, typically a tell-tale sign that someone was lying, but… maybe he could work that to his advantage. He swallowed, voice a little tight as he laughed, waving the concern away.

“Sorry, I just wasn't… planning on meeting the family today,” Stiles said, probably the most truthful thing he had ever said. “Usually I’d try to prepare a little more, you know, make sure I’m wearing something nice and avoid putting my entire foot in my mouth. Maybe just a toe or two,” he said, relaxing minutely as Cora snorted from her position near Laura’s elbow.

Okay, so self depreciation was a good way to avoid suspicion with all the Hales. Got it.

“Well, if you both have plans, I’ll make this quick,” Laura said, her voice deceptively charming as she sidled up next to Stiles, though he certainly wasn’t going to complain about the way Derek’s hand tightened around his waist. “The semester is up soon, what are your plans this summer? Never mind, move them back. We’re having a family reunion the week after finals, and everyone is dying to meet baby brother Derek’s new boo after all the stories he’s told.”

…stories?

He looked up to Derek again, who was now blushing up to the tips of his ears, which—okay, cute—but which told him absolutely nothing and offered him exactly zero defense.

“Actually, I already have a flight booked as soon as my spring contract is up. Heading back to Beacon Hills for a few days, and—“

“Wait, did Derek already invite you?” Laura asked, her expression pleasantly surprised, and Stiles was speechless for a half second before Derek stepped in.

“No, I didn’t invite him because I’m not even going, Laura. Besides, he has his own plans with his own family,” he said, and Stiles blinked as he tried to keep up. “And what do you mean, they’re excited to meet him? I was very clear that the further I can keep him away from you and Mom, the better.”

Laura only rose a brow as she turned back to Cora, who took a beat before looking up from her phone, her expression halfway guilty as she clutched the device. “I uh—I may have just sent a picture of you two to the family group chat.”

Stiles choked on a laugh as Derek gasped—actually gasped—and pulled his phone from his pocket, making the mistake of releasing Stiles’ shoulder to unlock the device, looking absolutely scandalized as he glared at Cora.

It wasn’t long before Stiles had a similar look on his face, though, as Laura took advantage of his free arm, linking her own with his as she started to walk. “Alright, Stiles, here’s the deal.”

“Cora, you little—hey! Laura, get back here with my boyfriend!”

“Calm down little brother, the adults are talking.”

“He’s younger than I am!”

“So, Stiles, like I was saying,” Laura started, oblivious or ignorant to the way Stiles' mind had absolutely reeled when Derek had called him his boyfriend for the second time. “Derek hasn’t been home for more than a day visit since he moved out to this dump, and no one has raised a stink about it in years. This year, though, is… important,” she started, and Stiles nodded idly as he mentally ran through the calendar in his head.

The semester was over in just over a week, with finals crammed into three days after that, and then—oh, the full moon.

No, Stiles corrected himself, the blue moon. The first blue moon in May in probably… thirty years, if he had to guess. He nodded up to Laura as that clicked into place, a flicker of curiosity crossing over her face as she continued talking.

“We won’t take up that much of your time—it’s only like two events, I promise, and I also promise Derek will personally take care of whatever flight changes you have to make so you can still get some time with your family. After all, it’s not your fault my bonehead brother tried to exclude you until now.”

“I’m not a bonehead!” Derek said, his tone of voice just exasperated enough that Stiles sighed, carefully extracting himself from Laura’s grasp as they slowed to a stop near the curb of Fifth Avenue, the noise from the farmers market blending in with the sound of traffic as he turned back to Derek.

“Alright, hang on, hold up,” Stiles started, his tone firm enough to stop the three wolves in their tracks, Derek and Laura wearing matching expressions of surprise as they stopped in their tracks—even Cora was peeking over her phone, clearly interested, and Stiles couldn’t blame them. It had probably been a long time since either of them had been stopped by a human.

“Laura, Derek is not a bonehead. He’s smart, and he’s sweet, and he’s very kind, and it’s okay that he’s a little more private. Yeah, he’s also a stubborn asshole, but… well, that’s one of the reasons I like him so much,” Stiles said, the first genuine smile in the entire conversation gracing his face as he looked at Derek again. “But you know your brother. Did you really think that catching him off guard across the country in person was going to be the best way to convince him to visit?”

He was fine taking their silence as an answer, honestly.

“Now, Derek, that being said, I… if you are comfortable with it, I can rearrange my plans and come down with you. If you’re not comfortable with that, that’s okay too. Meeting the family—at least, the rest of the family—is a very big step,” he continued, his words very pointed.

(Yes, Derek, meeting the family would be a very big step for someone you weren’t even dating, please pick up on the subliminal messaging here.)

“But even if you’re not comfortable with me being there, I think you should still go down. I’ll get to spend plenty of time with my dad, you shouldn’t have to be all alone up here while I’m gone.”

Moving to smooth over the lapels on Derek’s jacket again, Stiles only barely tampered down a noise of surprise as Derek intercepted his hands, pleasantly shocked by how easily Derek’s warm, smooth fingers slipped between his own lanky digits.

Stiles felt his cheeks pinks up as he cleared his throat, doing his best to act normal, because he was… well, he wasn’t lying. He had absolutely thought about Derek being alone here in New York while Stiles was gone, but that was more in the sense that Stiles would miss him.

He just didn’t know that Derek might be missing some family, too.

Besides, he may not have known that much about the intricacies of a normal, family pack, but Stiles knew enough to know that a big event like this would probably be good for Derek, even if he didn’t want to admit it.

Even if Derek was going to reject his offer and go down alone.

…because Derek was going to reject him.

Derek was going to reject him, right?

Stiles had been fairly sure of that when he offered, but judging by the way Derek couldn’t meet his eyes after something as simple as holding hands, Stiles might have just fucked himself over. Derek opened and closed his mouth twice before he finally let out a huff of air and looked up, doing a remarkably good impression of a guilty animal as he looked at Stiles.

“…you’re sure you don’t mind?”

Fuck.

“Derek, I wouldn’t have offered if I minded,” Stiles said, and that much was at least true—but before he could say anything else, Laura was squealing in his ear, wrapping both of them up in a hug so tight Stiles almost had to remind her that he was human, but he was able to breathe again as the car next to the curb chirped.

“Thank God, Stiles, thank you for getting through to him! Oh, Nana is gonna flip out when she hears who’s coming—Derek, you know you’ve always been her favorite—Stiles, do you have any dietary restrictions? Derek, send me his number, and—no, Cora, you are not driving us back to the airport, move your ass—“

Stiles looked up to Derek, his expression somewhere between bemused and fearful as Laura rambled on, but… well, the apologetic look that Derek had on his face wasn’t much reassurance.

“—and Stiles, you’re going to love Beacon Hills. Bye boys! See you in two weeks!”

Stiles was left, partially shellshocked as Derek’s hand slipped from his own, the need for the facade no longer essential as the shiny silver rental car pulled into traffic.

“… Derek, since when the fuck are you from Beacon Hills?”

—————

“Scotty, stop laughing, this isn’t funny.”

“Dude, are you kidding me? This is hilarious.”

Stiles groaned as he shoved another slice of pizza into his mouth, ignoring the burning sensation that spread across his tongue as he tried to pack as much melted cheese as he could into one bite.

Scott’s apartment had been their go-to for the entire time he and Stiles had been in the city—not because it was huge and glamorous, not by any means, but Scott’s shoebox had a door between the bathroom and the living room, and therefore it was the best place for bro-time by default.

Stiles had loudly complained about the entire situation when he and Derek showed up on Scott’s stoop, firmly planting himself in his favorite of Scott’s chairs—the ‘old man’ recliner next to Scott’s little television, the game on screen forgotten as he recalled their harrowed tale.

“Stiles, if you weren’t comfortable with it, why even… okay, no, don’t you dare answer me until you swallow,” Derek snapped, and Stiles rolled his eyes as he swallowed a few times, sticking his tongue out at Derek once his mouth was empty.

“Good. Thank you for pretending to be an adult. Now, why did you even offer if it wasn’t something you were comfortable with.”

Because it was supposed to just be a gesture, Derek. Because I didn’t realize you would take it as a serious offer, Derek. Because you were supposed to say no, Derek.

… because I didn’t want you to be alone, Derek.

Honestly, as surprised as Stiles was that Derek took him up on his poorly-timed moment of goodness, he was even more surprised that after Laura drove off, when he numbly asked if Derek wanted to come over to Scott’s for some pizza, Derek actually said yes.

Derek Hale was being social. Alert the media.

(Well… maybe ‘social’ was stretching it a bit—Stiles didn’t know if it was a territory thing or what, but Derek had turned hilariously, awkwardly stiff the moment he stepped inside Scott’s apartment.)

“I offered because I’m nice, dick, but don’t even think that you can turn this on me. Derek, they knew my name. They knew what I looked like. And yeah, I mean, I’m a complete catch and all—oh fuck off, Scotty—but what in the actual, literal fuck?”

Stiles didn’t think it was possible, but somehow Derek got even more tense, shoulders tightening up toward his ears as he looked down. It took a moment before he answered, but Stiles knew by then that Derek usually had to… wind himself up to talk about some things.

“My mother lives on the opposite end of the country, and even then, she still managed to set up twenty four blind dates for me last year. Twenty four, Stiles. That’s basically one every other week. Do you have any idea how much small talk that is? And how much I hate small talk?”

Yes, Stiles thought, to both of those questions. He would never admit this out loud, of course, but thinking about one of the most intensely private people that he knew stuck at some shitty little coffee shop trying to chat with some random female on behalf of his mother was hilarious to a degree he couldn’t fathom.

It definitely wasn’t a redirection of his own… personal feelings that may or may not be directed at Derek. Not at all. Nope.

“So, around the time the spring semester started, when my mother let slide that she had passed along my number to yet another perfectly eligible barista, or something, I panicked and told her I had a boyfriend. And then she asked for a photo, and the most recent one on my phone was that selfie you sent miming your own death in the stacks, so…”

“Oh fuck, Derek,” Stiles started, downing the last of his beer. “Your big bisexual awakening wasn’t just you trying to get out of your mom setting you up on dates, right?”

“Don’t flatter yourself, ass,” Derek said, rolling his eyes as he shook his head. “The two events were completely separate.”

Stiles laughed at the thought, but even then, his mind was reeling. If this wasn’t a recent discovery, how in the fuck did Stiles miss that for so long?

“Well, you’re lucky Scotty and I had a flight booked anyway. I won’t let you face them alone, not when you have a picture perfect boyfriend to show off now—what role should I take on? Doting, love struck fool? Rebel without a care? Some sad forlorn loser who… okay, no, that one is too close to home.”

Scott stood up and laughed as Derek glared at Stiles again, but it didn’t take a genius to see the tiny smile on his face, or the way his shoulders eased as he leaned back into the couch.

“Alright, this is getting too intense a conversation while the game is on. Want another beer, Stiles? You, Derek?”

Stiles made a vaguely affirming noise as he wove his hand in Scott’s direction, eyes drawn back to Derek yet again as the other wolf politely declined, his own attention affixed to the television as the game picked back up.

Derek was… not a particularly expressive person, Stiles knew, and part of that was because Derek had what Stiles affectionately called ‘resting grumpy face’; at least, he did privately, because the one time he said it out loud Derek had thrown the Encyclopaedia of Demomorgons at his head.

So, to the outsider looking in, Derek might have just seemed uninterested in the game; but Stiles had been watching Derek work for the better part of a semester, and he knew perfectly well how to tell when Derek’s resting grumpy face formed an actual frown. Which it did. Because apparently, the Mets had personally offended him.

“I’m sorry, are you seriously glaring at the Mets? While they’re winning?”

Derek leveled Stiles with the most unimpressed glare he could as Scott laughed from his kitchen, walking back into the living room with two beers. “God, I hope he was. It would be nice to have someone with taste in the apartment for once.”

“Scotty!” Stiles gasped, clutching his heart as Scott handed him a beer, extending the claw on his thumb to pop the top off before he handed the bottle over. “The Mets are a treasure, okay? If God lived in New York, she’d be a Mets fan. I have suffered much for my Mets in my lifetime, and they—woah, Derek, you okay?”

Stiles’ charming cliches would have to wait, because when he looked over to Derek, his humor dropped immediately. Derek had gone white as a sheet, jaw slack as he stared at the beer in Stiles’ hand.

He stared back and forth between Scott and Derek, trying to figure what the hell had just happened; it wasn’t until he watched Scott pop the top off of his own beer, looking between the two of them, did Stiles put two and two together.

“Derek, you… you had to know that Scott was a were, right? Like, you had to. He—Scotty doesn’t do subtle.”

“Me?! Stiles, you called me a wet dog for like a month after I fell into the Hudson.”

Derek let out a sort of choked noise as he shut his mouth, coming back into himself as a bit of pink dusted his pale cheeks, hands moving in front of his face. “Of—of course I knew, but—you knew?!”

“Dude, I’m studying mythical lore and criminology. I’m the one who taught this furry fucker how to control himself. Of course I knew, I... oh my god. You didn’t know that I knew—uh, that I know.”

Matching looks of realization dawned on Scott and Stiles’ face as Stiles stood up, putting the beer down on the coffee table. He moved next to Derek as he sat down on the couch, keeping his movement slow, reaching out to pat Derek’s leg like he was a frail old lady.

“Derek, I know.”

After what felt like an age and a half, Derek melted into the couch, a huge sigh leaving his lips as all the tension in his body bled out like a string had been cut, burying his head in his hands.

“We’ve had arguments about wolves in pop culture. I’ve offered to help you out with your coursework every full moon for, like, the entire semester. Dude, you had to know that I knew, there’s no way I didn’t—Derek!” Stiles felt his giddy laughter bubble over as Derek shot him a red-eyed glare through his fingers, his scowl somehow less intimidating now that everything was out in the open.

Okay, Derek wasn’t just a wolf, he was an alpha. That was… interesting.

“God, you two really are perfect fake boyfriends. Two halves of a whole idiot. Derek, are you sure you don’t want a beer? Or maybe something stronger, if you have to deal with Stiles?” Scott said easily, laughing as Stiles immediately protested, though the way Stiles eased himself next to Derek wasn’t exactly subtle, either.

—————

Scott may have been joking, but by the time finals had come and gone, Stiles had accepted the fact that he would have to forgo booze and opt for a mainline of caffeine to keep up with Derek. How one person remained so meticulously organized, Stiles would never know—but in the amount of time it took for Stiles to wrap up his grant work for the semester, Derek had given four exams, proctored three more, cleaned out his office, and shared the updated flight itinerary with Stiles.

“Wait, wait, hang on,” Stiles had said, tripping over an empty box in his tiny office as Derek handed him his updated boarding pass. “Why do we have to change our flights? Scott and I are already booked, you can probably just join us, right?”

Derek rose a perfectly sculpted brow as he tapped the ticket again, shaking his head. “Hey, I promised you’d spend as few days as possible with my family, and I intend to keep that promise. The sooner we get in, the sooner we start that clock, the sooner you get to spend the rest your time with your dad.”

Stiles blinked as he looked down to the itinerary, eyes scanning over the earlier time—and it was non-stop too. That would be a bit killer on the legs, but Stiles could handle that, maybe he could take some time to sleep or pester Derek for...

“Uh, Derek... this ticket is for first class.”

“I know, Stiles, I booked it.”

“Dude, there’s a reason Scott and I booked an economy ticket with a layover in Bismarck. There’s no way I can pay you back for this.”

If looks could kill, Stiles would be... maybe not dead, but at least set on fire. Derek sighed, as though the weight of the world was on his shoulders as he rolled his eyes.

“You’re not paying me back, dumbass. You’re already doing a ton for me with this little... charade, the least I can do is make sure your frail human body—“

“Hey!”

”—is comfortable in a lie flat seat.”

“Look, I appreciate that, but I’m not leaving Scott alone on his flight in coach just because of our... fake... whatever.”

Stiles’ voice trailed off in curiosity as Derek sighed, his cheeks pink as he pulled the paper out of Stiles’ hand, pointing to the second half of the sheet—where MCCALL, SCOTT had been printed in big, bold letters, that Stiles had completely ignored.

“... you got Scott a ticket too?”

“Of course I did. He’s your best friend, I wasn’t going to ask you to leave him behind just for me. Besides, who do you think I got your information from to book the flight?” Derek said dryly, as though his deadpan delivery could cancel out the ruddy color to his cheeks, or the way that Stiles’ stomach flip flopped when the reality of that sunk in.

It was nice that Derek acknowledged the importance of their friendship, in the way that tugged at the little space right beneath his sternum, but something about the way Derek so quickly dismissed himself was... concerning.

Stiles couldn’t help but play that little bit of their conversation over in his head as he packed, as he hopped on the train, as he met up with Scott and Derek in security.

Scott, bless his heart, was absolutely elated—his excitement was almost tangible as they dropped off luggage, walked through security, and stood around at the boarding gate. Derek had to smack the both of them to get them to stand up when first class was called to board, and Stiles idly wondered if Derek regretted associating himself with them when he and Scott managed to trip in sync as they went down the jetway.

Derek and Stiles were seated together, of course, and once Stiles got over the novelty of not having a middle seat on a plane, he liked to imagine he fit right in—easing back into the seat, enjoying the comfort of the little blanket he had been given, grinning at the flight attendant as she checked in with them.

(Scott was one row ahead and across the aisle, close enough that Stiles could lean forward and smack him if he wanted to... but the moment Stiles saw his seat mate, a pretty woman with dark hair and impeccable eyeliner, he knew his best bro would be on a different planet for the entirety of the flight.)

His grin slipped a little bit, though, as he thought back to the conversation surrounding the tickets, and he looked up to Derek as he settled in a bit further.

“So, we never went over what role I should be taking on.”

“Stiles, just be yourself. You’re funny enough, and you generally mean well, they’ll love who you are.”

Yeah… who he was. Well, who he was was someone who was going to be dangerously invested in a fake relationship that would probably end terribly for him, so that was fun. He sighed as he settled into the seat, opening and closing his mouth a few times as he debated on where to go from here.

No time like a non stop plane ride to have a potentially awkward conversation, right?

“Dude, we’re friends, right?”

“We’re fake boyfriends, don’t call me dude.”

Derek’s tone was teasing as he flipped through his SkyMall, a small smile on his face, and Stiles felt a little bit of the tension ease out of his shoulders as he buckled in.

“First of all, I have called many boyfriends ‘dude’ before,” Stiles started, ignoring Derek’s snort of laughter, “and I’m being serious. We... we are friends, right?”

Be it his words or his awkward energy, Derek looked up, surprise on his face as he closed the magazine and stowed it away as the plane bumped down the taxiway.

“Of course we are, Stiles. You’re like... the only person I talk to at work outside of teaching, that’s light years ahead of most of New York as a whole.”

“I mean, I’m glad to hear, I just...” Stiles chewed on his lip as he turned in his seat, weirdly soothed by the roar of the engines as the takeoff roll started. “You know about my dad, and about my school, and about Scott, and those are basically the three important things in my life,” he started, letting out a sigh as Derek just stared at him blankly.

“It’s fine that you’re a private person, I can respect that... seriously, I may not understand it, but I can respect it,” Stiles said, grinning as Derek shot him a look, lowering his voice again as he leaned over the divider between them. “But I didn’t know that you were from my hometown, too. Or that you had sisters, let alone other family. I should have asked, I guess, but... you know you can talk to me about things, yeah? Even after all this is over, you’ll always be Derek to me. Not just another Hale.”

Stiles’ was smiling as he gently bumped Derek’s shoulder with his own, watching the way different emotions warred over his face, biting back on the urge to babble on so he could give Derek the time he needed to respond.

“We’re... we are friends, Stiles. We are.” Derek insisted, looking down to his linked hands as the plane continued to rise. “Sometimes, I just... I’m not great about talking about myself.”

For a while, Stiles thought that was all he was going to get, and honestly, he was fine with it—it wasn’t until the fasten seatbelt sign chimed off and the flight attendants passed out little bottles of water that Derek spoke again, his voice low as he cleared his throat.

“My family is huge. Like, big enough that we need spreadsheets and flowcharts to organize family events like this. I know they love me, and I love them too, of course I do, but I made some really, really stupid decisions when I was younger… I know they forgave me for it, but...”

Derek sighed, taking a deep breath as he ran his hands through his hair.

“Sometimes it’s hard to be around them and still be okay with myself, you know?”

No, Stiles didn’t know. He only had his dad and Scott growing up, but he nodded his head encouragingly as he took a sip of his water.

“I actually have four siblings. Mark is the oldest, and then Taylor, and I’m right between Laura and Cora. They’re betas, like my dad; my mom and I are both alphas, her mom, too…” Derek continued, and Stiles smiled as he settled into his seat.

By the time the flight landed, Stiles’ head was full to the brim with Hale family trivia, names, faces, teasing stories, and the warmth that had danced across Stiles’ chest for the past year or so had bloomed into a full-on fire.

Would it lead to his downfall? Probably.

But when he saw how Derek smiled when he remembered Mark’s graduating medical school, or heard the pride in his voice when he talked about Laura’s charity work, and the genuine joy he got to see when he heard another story about Derek’s childhood… well, that was all more than worth it.

—————

“I think you should kiss me.”

Stiles had to stop himself from laughing at the look that Derek shot him, doing his best to keep his body language casual as he leaned against the gas pump at a tiny station outside of Beacon Hills, though he knew his heart was going at about a million miles a minute.

“I—you—what?”

“Derek, I’m an affectionate dude, in case you couldn’t tell from all the hand holding. And if you’re going to freak out if I kiss your cheek, then you should freak out now, not when we’re in front of your family.”

Stiles knew full well his heart betrayed his confidence, but seeing Derek’s ears go pink as he dumped the armful of snacks Stiles had asked for into the back seat was a welcome sight—it was always nice to know that Derek’s cool and controlled exterior could be ruffled up once in a while.

Somewhere between the rental kiosk and the gas station, Stiles had decided that he was going to go all in on this. His little crush was already stuck right in the back of his throat and would be unlikely to dislodge any time soon, so he figured that indulging himself in the fake relationship Derek had set up for him… well, it wouldn’t do any good, but it was unlikely to make things worse for him than it already was.

It was a little weird being alone with Derek—Stiles didn’t realize it until now, but between meeting Derek’s sisters and meeting the rest of their family, this was the first time they had been alone together. They had other staff members at school, or strangers around the city, or Scott (who had politely declined a ride back to Beacon Hills with Derek and Stiles, choosing instead to split an Uber with his pretty new friend, Kira).

“You know, as far as first kisses go, usually they’re a little more romantic than just a demand. You’re supposed to woo me, Stiles,” Derek said, his sarcastic tone betrayed by his shy little smile as he pulled the nozzle out of his tank, closing the gas cap as Stiles gasped in mock offense.

“Hey, I said you should kiss me, not the other way around. Why should I have to be the one to woo?” Stiles started, sliding into the passenger’s seat as Derek followed suit. “After all, this relationship wouldn’t have even happened without your instigation, so why should I… uh… Der?”

Stiles’ voice trailed off as Derek’s hand sunk into the soft crook at the juncture of his neck, effectively cutting off his entire train of thought as Derek’s thumb pressed against the hollow of his jaw.

“Stiles.”

“Yeah?”

“I’m going to kiss you now.”

“O-Okay.”

For a minute, all Stiles could think of were those cheesy old rom-coms, where fireworks would go off, or bells would chime, but kissing Derek was nothing like that. It was the comfort of wrapping yourself in an electric blanket, instead of the shock of jumping into a frozen pond; the familiar buzz of goosebumps over his skin over a bolt of lightning. He felt a surprised little noise leave his chest as Derek’s tilted his head to deepen the kiss, his tongue flicking out instinctively to drag along Derek’s bottom lip, hands coming up to rest against the wolves chest.

Stiles could feel his heart beating through every inch of his skin as the kiss broke, struggling to remind himself how to breathe as he opened his eyes again, his nose brushing against Derek’s as he let out a little huff of a laugh.

“Was that enough woo for you?” Derek asked, his voice barely more than a whisper, and Stiles smiled as he nodded his head, savoring the way that neither of them moved back. Derek’s hand was warm against the crook of his jaw, his own palm flat against Derek's chest, and it was natural, it was so nice, it was—

Fake. It was all fake.

Stiles sighed, closing his eyes as he gently leaned in and pressed their foreheads together, that mantra playing through his head as he pulled himself back. He buckled himself in easily as he took in a deep breath, his goofy grin still in place as he looked back up to Derek.

“See? Now you can honestly tell your mom we had our first kiss at a gas station and that it was magical and I totally rocked your world.”

“Is that what happened, though? I mean, if you wanted me to kiss you so badly, you should have just asked,” Derek said, the sarcasm thick in his voice as he started the car, and Stiles laughed as they pulled out of the lot, his hand finding Derek’s easily once again.

Their silence remained comfortable as they left the city skyline behind and basically blew through Beacon Hills, the trees inching closer to the road as they wound through the preserve.

Finishing off a bag of M&M’s, Stiles cleared his throat as he crumpled up the wrapper and chucked it in the back seat, sucking a little bit of melted chocolate off of his thumb. “So. Is this regular introducing-the-boyfriend-to-the-family nerves I’m looking at here, or is this introducing-the-fake-boyfriend-to-the-family nerves? You don’t have any weirdos in your family, do you? An ex-felon auntie? A cousin who doesn’t quite get personal space?”

Stiles grinned as Derek laughed, oddly comforted by the sound as Derek shook his head. “Nothing exciting. A weird uncle, I guess. Lots of cousins, you should basically abandon any idea of personal space as soon as we walk in, and plenty of human family, too—so you won’t be alone in that. As far as felons go, well… none of us have been caught?”

“Hey, game recognizes game, it doesn’t count if you don’t get caught. And I can work with a weird uncle.” Stiles laughed at the sheepish look that Derek shot his way, his fingers still happily wrapped up in Derek’s warm hands. He could almost feel it when they crossed over onto the Hale land, the huge, white house as much of a giveaway as the shrieks of joy that even Stiles could hear from the property.

“They’re gonna love you, you know?” Derek’s voice was soft as he pulled the rental into a long row of cars, nearly lining the road leading up to the house, and Stiles felt the snarky remark die on his tongue as Derek caught his eye, his expression somewhere between grateful and wistful as he turned the car off.

“Maybe, but…” Stiles sighed as he popped his door open, chewing over his next words carefully. “But if they do, it’s because they already love you.”

He took it as a personal victory when Derek turned away, his ears pink again, and Stiles couldn’t help but grin as he followed the werewolf up the path to his family home.

The Hale House was probably as huge and impressive as the Hale family itself from the outside, and Stiles did his best not to gape like a fool as Derek opened the door for him, his hand finding the small of Stiles’ back as they stepped into the house. Polished floors, huge, high windows, a grand staircase that was the definition of grand, and—

“Derek!”

—and another unfairly attractive Hale moving forward to greet them. Tall, broad, dark hair with just a splash of salt around the temples and the goatee, shining a million watt smile on Derek and Stiles as he wiped his hands on his probably-uncomfortably-tight jeans.

Jesus, was everyone in this family gorgeous? Stiles was going to get a complex.

He looked up as the stranger and Derek briefly hugged, watching the halfway-subtle way they scented one another, Mark’s head buried in Derek’s neck for a half moment before they pulled away. If Stiles strained his ear, he could have heard something along the lines of ‘be nice’ as Derek pulled back; if the situation weren’t so funny, Stiles probably would have blushed.

“Don’t listen to him, I’m always nice. I’m Mark, and you…” Mark started, his million watt smile back in place as his eyes dragged over Stiles’ body, “... you must be Stiles.” Stiles snorted as Mark pulled him into an easy hug, catching Stiles just a little off-guard as he was wrapped in another pair of arms.

Apparently Derek’s family was an affectionate bunch. Stiles didn’t know if it was a wolf thing or a Hale thing, but either way, it was good to know.

“Mark, uh, Seattle, right? You’re the surgeon?” Stiles asked, clearing his throat as the hug carried on just a bit too long, regaining some footing in the introduction as he pulled back. “Derek’s told me a lot about you.”

That was… mostly true, Derek had told him enough about Mark to thoroughly embarrass the older male, and Mark looked like he expected nothing less as he laughed, holding Stiles’ shoulders as he stood at arms length. “Yeah, I’m sure he did, but it’s probably all garbage. After all, how can you really describe a wonder like me in words, huh?”

He actually winked, and Stiles honestly couldn’t believe that this dude was for real.

“Der, nice job with this one. He’s cute. Kid, is my brother treating you well? Cause, you know, if Hale is your taste, you can do much better than—”

”Mark—“

“Oh, lighten up Der-bear, there isn’t enough Botox in the world to get rid of those scowl lines. It was a joke. Now come on, everyone’s out back.”

Stiles laughed again as Mark put Derek in an easy headlock, ruffling up his hair as he led them outside, immediately filing ‘Der-bear’ away for future use as they stepped out into the backyard.

The backyard, which was absolutely filled with Hales.

He felt his heart do a funny little lurch as he was hit with the sheer family of it all—all dark haired, all gorgeous, and for just a moment, he wanted to smack Derek upside the head. There were probably generations of Hales here; Derek had all this family, this built in support group, and he was just going to spend the summer holed up in New York?

“Alright, Siles, we’re gonna keep you in with the main family and keep you away from the cousins,” Mark started, artfully ignoring the way Derek was swatting at him. “Uncle Peter all but insisted that Mom come pick him up, so you’ll get to avoid them until later tonight, but who you really want to watch out for is—“

“Is that my grandbaby?!”

Mark stiffened as Derek perked up, and Stiles couldn’t help but snicker as a bony hand shot up, grabbing Mark by the scruff of his neck, pulling him off of Derek with a flourish that would probably seem overly dramatic if Stiles didn’t know just how much werewolf strength was packed behind it.

“Derek!”

“Hi, Nana.”

Stiles couldn’t keep the smile off of his face as Derek leaned in to wrap his arms around the older woman—she was a good foot shorter than he was, her movements loud, with light skinned with the same tell-tale black hair that the rest of the family had. What caught Stiles’ eye, though, was the way Derek scented her—it was the same way Mark scented him, a familial nudge that Stiles read easily as a sign of deference.

Whoever this Nana was, she was clearly the woman in charge here.

“You know, we’re all technically her grandbabies,” Mark started as he reappeared at Stiles’ shoulder, rubbing the back of his neck, his childish pout painfully obvious as he pointed his words. “But you wouldn’t know it with the blatant favoritism she shows for Derek!”

“Mark, don’t be such a baby,” Nana Hale said as she pulled back from Derek’s hug, patting his cheek affectionately. She raised a brow in a spectacularly unimpressed fashion as she turned to look at her eldest grandson, sighing in mock disappointment. “Not that I thought a career based off of liposuction and face lifts would have brought you some maturity.”

“That’s—I don’t just do—Nana!”

“Now, who do we have here? Derek, are you going to introduce me to your special friend?”

Ignoring Mark’s protests easily as she turned her attention, Stiles felt his heart pick up again, his eyes flicking to Derek as he beamed; Stiles wasn’t sure if he was happy to see Mark get smacked down, or if he was happy to introduce Stiles, but Stiles would have literally killed a man to see Derek smile that brightly on a regular basis.

“Nana, this is my boyfriend, Stiles Stilinski. Stiles, this is my grandmother, Ger—“

“Nana Hale will do just fine, thank you very much,” she interrupted, pulling a face that made Stiles grin—he could absolutely relate to someone who would rather set their birth name on fire than own up to it. “Now, come here, let me get a look at you.”

Stiles stepped forward and hesitated a half moment, not sure if he should try one last time for a handshake or wait for her to initiate a hug, but before he could make up his mind she had her hands clasped on his elbows, a grip like iron stopping him in his tracks.

“Scrawny little thing, aren’t you? We’ll take care of that, don’t you worry. It’s good to meet you, sweetheart, let’s get you some food.”

“It’s good to meet you too—and some food sounds great,” Stiles said with a laugh, ignoring the fact that he was still full of junk food as Nana Hale all but preened beside him. Her grip was gentle but unyielding as she dragged him to a table that was piled with food, giving a half wave to Laura and Cora, who were stationed beside a punch bowl the size of a fish tank as he kept himself a half step behind Nana.

Stiles wasn’t dumb, okay? He knew how to make nice with wolves, and more importantly, he knew how to be subtle.

(He didn’t like it, but he knew how to do it.)

“Uncle Derek! Get Uncle Derek!!”

Thankfully, the moment was over in a flash as Stiles heard a familiar name called out in a high pitched squeal, looking back out to the yard where a hoard of kids had just caught sight (or scent?) of Derek, immediately abandoning the rough-and-tumble games they seemed to be wrapped up in to run toward Derek as fast as their little legs could carry them.

Derek immediately tensed, a manic grin on his face as he prepared to run, body twitching as he caught himself before taking off. He sent a look Stiles’ way that was somehow both apologetic and asking remission, and Stiles sighed as he smiled.

“You better run, Uncle Derek. They’re gonna get you,” Stiles said mock-seriously, only barely keeping a straight face as Derek instead ran straight to the kids, making all sorts of comedic noises as they mobbed his legs.

Fuck, he was cute.

Stiles’ attention was pulled off of Derek as he felt eyes on him, subtly scanning the yard before he made eye contact with another adult in the family, who was very shirtless, and very sweaty, and very much walking toward them with a bright smile on his face.

Okay, Stiles was definitely getting a complex.

“You must be Stiles!” he exclaimed once he was closer to their little group, and Stiles had never been as thankful for a child as he was for the tiny body perched on top of the other males shoulders, because he was just about at his ‘hugging gorgeous people’ limit. He was still sweating, for fucks sake, but Stiles supposed that even a wolf got tired out when they had eight kids hanging from their body until Uncle Derek stepped in.

“I am, and…” Stiles was about to assume this was the firefighter sibling, but as soon as he opened his mouth, the kid on top of his shoulders smiled, and Stiles was absolutely smitten. “And who is this little guy?”

The distraction was apparently a welcome one, because shirtless dude’s smile grew even wider, reaching up to pat the kid on a mop of curly hair before he lifted him up and over, holding him at chest level. “This is Isaac. Isaac, can you say hi to Stiles? He’s your uncle Derek’s special friend.”

Stiles literally felt his heart melt as Isaac gave a shy little wave, looking up at him with big blue eyes. He couldn’t have been older than three or four, and Stiles smiled and waved back as Isaac was set down on the ground.

“You wanna go play with Uncle D?” Any hint of shyness was forgotten the moment the question was asked, taking off toward Derek as fast as his little legs could carry him, which… wasn’t very fast, but was very, very cute.

“They all yours?” Stiles asked, raising an eyebrow as he looked over to Derek, who now had at least six kids hanging off of him. He smiled as the other male shivered, shaking his head quickly.

“God no, just the three. Erica and Boyd, and Isaac too, now that the adoption has been finalized. Those kids basically run the joint, Derek included—as long as you don’t mind the occasional toddler mobbing, you’ll fit in just fine.”

“Thanks, random shirtless man, I really hope so.”

Stiles grinned as Laura choked on a mouthful of punch, the weirdness of the situation apparently just now visible to her as she sputtered, punching her brother in the arm. “Oh god, Taylor, what is wrong with you! Go put on a shirt, you can’t just—you didn’t even introduce yourself, I swear—Stiles is a guest, you weirdo!”

They kept bickering back and forth as Taylor pulled an undershirt on over his head, the whining turning into background noise as he poured himself a glass of punch. He knew perfectly well what Laura was trying to say—Stiles is a human—and he was pretty sure he was mostly flattered by everyone trying so hard, but any coherent thought left his head as he took a bite of the ribs, watching Nana Hale grin out of the corner of his eyes as he groaned in delight.

“God, they really do have Derek wrapped around their pudgy fingers,” Cora mused, and Stiles nodded his head, swallowing. It was honestly hilarious to watch Derek try to manage all those kids by himself; they seemed determined to pile themselves onto his head and shoulders, and he could almost see Derek sweat, trying to make sure he didn’t drop anyone as Isaac managed to wriggle his way into Derek’s grip.

He tilted his head in consideration, taking a sip of his drink before he spoke up.

“Yeah, he always did strike me as that kind of Alpha.”

He couldn’t help but savor the way the conversation ground to a halt around him, Laura and Taylor both sucking in a deep breath as Mark shattered the glass he was holding. There probably was a better way to acknowledge that he was in on the secret, but as funny as it was watching Derek’s siblings tiptoe around the fact, he figured it was best to rip the bandaid off in one go.

Even if it meant he had the attention of the Hales closest to him in one second, flat, Nana’s burning red from where she stood with a plate piled high with food.

He probably should have been nervous, but as he looked back at Derek, he could tell it was the right choice—Derek was all smiles, waiting only a beat before he popped his fangs and playfully snapped at one of his little nieces, the air soon full of squealing laughter once again.

Keeping his gaze even, Stiles smiled in thanks as he took the plate of food Nana offered to him, watching as her eyes melted back into their darker, human color. She was staring at him like he was a particularly complex puzzle, and she wasn’t alone—Cora looked hilariously outraged that she didn’t realize sooner, and even Mark was looking over him with renewed interest as his hand healed.

“I knew you were a smart boy. He told you?”

Nana’s question was accusing, but not unkind, and Stiles shrugged it off easily as he popped a chip into his mouth.

“He didn’t have to. My best friend was bitten when we were both fifteen. He didn’t have… anything, no alpha, no pack, just me and my mad Googling skills, and we’ve had plenty of supernatural run-ins over the years. Derek didn’t tell me because he didn’t have to tell me—I’m not anything special, but I’d like to think I can spot a non-human from at least fifty feet. Maybe more on a good day.”

“Well, that’s where you’re wrong.”

Stiles jumped as he heard Derek’s voice from behind him, and it truly was a credit to his poise and sophistication that he only blushed a little as Derek’s arm snaked around his waist. His body was warm, far warmer than it had been ten minutes ago, and Derek’s breath came a little heavy as he kissed the back of Stiles’ head.

“You are definitely something special.”

“You—you absolute cheeseball, what is wrong with you—” Stiles managed to get out as he shoved at Derek’s shoulder, his entire face burning red as Laura and Cora both gagged. Any residual awkwardness melted away as Nana’s sharp laugh cut through the air, the sound putting him back at ease as he leaned back into Derek’s warmth.

Somewhere between the fortieth round of storytelling and the gathering moving back into the house, Stiles needed a breather. Derek’s family was huge, and loud, and honestly, Stiles loved it—but it wasn’t long before he felt an itch beneath his skin, his fingers buzzing against his thigh, the muscles in his jaw a little too tight.

Stiles had expected Derek to be pretty popular in the family—what he didn’t expect, though, was that he would be anything more than an introduction and the same polite questions that everyone gave the new boyfriend.

“Wait, no fucking way did the two of you take down a Kanima, Stiles, I’m calling bullshit right now—“

Derek’s siblings were great, but they were also the worst; the minute they found out that Stiles had his own supernatural background, they were pestering him for stories, demanding his opinion of things, getting more and more exasperated with his entire life the more he shared.

Stiles knew that his life was crazy, okay? He didn’t need the constant reminders or the slack-jawed shocked expressions to reinforce that fact.

“Jesus, we didn’t even know that there were any wendigos in the state, and you knew an entire family of them?”

The only stories he flat out refused to talk about were the… issues he had had with hunters through high school—this was a party, after all, and he didn’t want to be the one to bring the vibe down by talking about the one time an assassin held a gun to his head to try and draw Scott out.

Fun times.

“What do you mean, you just know a banshee? And set her up with a hellhound? Dude, who are you?!”

Kissing Derek had, oddly enough, only exasperated the situation. In less than a day, they had gotten better at trading little affections back and forth; but instead of helping Stiles calm down, they only increased that thrumming nerves that bounced around at the base of his skull.

Which sucked, honestly, because kissing Derek was… really, really nice.

Stiles waited until another cousin who’s name he would never remember caught Derek up in a conversation about another tradition he couldn’t follow before he squeezed Derek’s hand, taking the opportunity to stand up from his spot on the couch and slip away.

The Hale House was huge, and outside was no exception; Stiles soon found himself on the porch, a huge wraparound wooden structure with built-in benches that let you enjoy the kind of view that made Stiles remember why he loved home so much. He treated himself to a few pictures of the sunset over Beacon Canyon before he flopped himself down on a bench, rubbing at his neck.

“Stiles? Everything alright?”

He had half expected Derek to follow him out after a few moments—but to his surprise, it was Nana Hale that sat beside him, her cheeks still pink with laughter as she tucked a jet black flyaway behind an ear.

“Is—oh, no, it’s great! Just wanted to, uh, snap a few pictures of the view.”

Another half truth—he was full to bursting with those lately.

“I know that our family can be… a little overwhelming,” she said, her tone even as she rose a brow, keeping her gaze forward as her fingers drummed a pattern into her knee.

Stiles hummed in agreement, his own smile a touch more genuine as he looked over to her. “Maybe, but that’s not a bad thing. When I was growing up, I spent so much time wondering what it would be like, to have siblings, and cousins, and… well, it might be a lot, but it’s a lot of love, too. I’m really glad Derek has that kind of support.”

Nana’s fingers stilled against her knee as she turned to face Stiles, and for the first time, Stiles was really able to get a good look at her properly. He could understand why she was the matriarch of the family, and how she had kept that title so long; even if he hadn’t witnessed her taking Mark down less than four hours ago, there was a whole other kind of strength that she was showing here, radiating off of her in waves.

“He does. But he doesn’t just have us for love and support... or was I reading the way you look at him wrong?” Her tone was teasing as she rose her brow, and Stiles felt his cheeks pink up spectacularly as he coughed, his eyes flashing back to the window for only a moment before Nana patted his knee.

“Don’t worry, the house is completely soundproof. Those nosy little pups can’t hear a word we say. Now tell me, how long have you been in love with my grandson?”

Now fully, beautifully red, Stiles groaned as he hid his face in his hands, Nana’s laughter ringing strong and clear as she stood up and walked toward the railing. “Oh don’t be so dramatic, I have no intention of spoiling that surprise until you’re ready to really woo him with it. And you’d better woo him! You know as well as I do that he deserves the romancing.”

Her tone softened as she chuckled, trailing off with a sigh and a sort of wistful smile as she shook her head. “New York has been good to him. You have, too, I think. California was… a rough part in his life.”

Something in the way she phrased it got the investigative side of his brain thrumming, his curiosity piqued as he remembered what Derek said on the plane.

‘I know they forgave me, but… sometimes it’s hard to be around them and still be okay with myself, you know?’

The nosy part of him wanted to pry, to dig a little more, but his eyes flicked back to the window again, where Derek and all four of his siblings were doing a terrible job at acting like they weren't trying to stare him down.

“Whatever it is, I’m sure he’ll tell me when he’s ready.”

Apparently, that was the right answer—Nana’s face softened again as she smiled, nodding her head, beckoning Stiles into standing up. She put her hand in the crook of his elbow easily, steering them back toward the house in a way that allowed no room for compromise.

“You are going to be good for my Der-bear, I know it.”

“Oh, I mean, I hope so. Derek deserves that, and I definitely—“

“Just let him be good for you, too.”

She reached up and patted Stiles cheek as he stared at her, dumbfounded, automatically opening the door for her as she walked back into the house. His expression was mirrored in the matching expressions of slack-jawed shock from all five Hale siblings, all staring at Stiles as Nana started in on another family story that would be sure to embarrass Mark, or Laura, or anyone who wasn’t Derek.

He meant what he said, of course. Derek deserved someone who would be good for him.

Somehow, that was the problem here.

—————

“Stiles, you reek of nerves. All I can smell is nerves and bell peppers. It’s not a good smell. Are you going to tell me what you’re freaking out about, or what?”

Stiles jolted as Derek called him out so effortlessly, pulled out of the trance he had fallen into as he watched Derek work, pushing around some of the barbecue from the night prior with some fresh chopped veggies into a delightful spur of the moment stir fry.

Derek was also as dressed down as Stiles had ever seen him, in a light grey henley and a dark pair of jeans, and that was even more delightful than the stir fry.

“Wait, you—that’s just something you can do? Oh god, your entire family must have known how nervous I was yesterday, did they—“

“Stiles. Breathe.”

Right. Breathing. He could do that.

…. maybe.

The truth was, Stiles could honestly say that he was having a great time back in Beacon Hills.

Derek and his family were great, no lie, and fake relationship aside, the researcher in him was absolutely thriving seeing how a huge, well-established pack worked with one another. They were literally a well oiled machine, the personification of the old ‘it takes a village’ metaphor, and the only thing that amazed Stiles more than how well they worked together was how well they adapted to Stiles being there.

Of course, he thought a big part of that came from having the Alphas on his side—not just Derek, but Nana too.

(“I can’t believe she hugged you,” Laura had hissed after yet another glass of infused punch. “When she met my last boyfriend, she threw him off the porch.”

“Well, Stiles is a fragile little human,” Taylor had snorted, ignoring the way Stiles smacked his arm, “and Hank was a major, prolapsed asshole.”

“Well yeah, but that’s not the point!”)

As great as Derek and his family was though, getting to come home and surprise his dad early… well, there was no place on the planet he would rather be than wrapped in a signature Stilinski hug, the kind of hug where you held on just a little longer than you needed to so you can pretend you definitely weren’t crying.

He got to watch a game with his dad, he got to sleep in his old, lumpy-ass childhood bed, he got to make breakfast in his mom’s kitchen.

So yeah. Great time.

Or at least, it had been, until a text rolled through after he kissed his dad goodbye that morning.

der-bear: Do you want to come over for lunch? Nana has everyone out of the house, Mom and Uncle Peter showed up this morning and he’s already driving everyone crazy.

sent: sure man. want me to bring anything? :)

der-bear: Don’t worry about it. Besides, I figure we should talk before the bonfire anyway.

And just like that, something brought around a cloud to rain on Stiles’ parade.

“Is it about tonight?” Derek asked, and if Stiles’ hadn’t been so laser focused on his cooking technique (his arms, okay, he was staring at Derek’s arms) he probably would have missed the way Derek hesitated when he asked, like he was afraid of the answer.

He picked himself up off of the barstool at the island in their gigantic kitchen, leaning against the counter closer to Derek, reaching in to pluck a chunk of onion out of the pan, skillfully avoiding the swat from Derek’s wooden spoon. “What do you mean?”

“Well, you… You know we’re looking forward to having you with us, right?” Derek asked, spooning some of the food onto two separate plates, using his claws to rip two fresh chunks of bread off of a loaf. “But if you don’t… I mean, I just don’t want you to feel like you have to be there if you don’t want to.”

Stiles frowned as he accepted one of the plates, pulling the smaller chunk of bread off of one of Derek’s claws, mulling his next words over. “As long as you want me there I’ll be there,” Stiles said slowly, because there really was no way to politely say that Stiles would rather throw himself into the sun before his mythical lore studying ass missed out on observing pack activity on a blue moon.

“Why would you think I didn’t want you there?” Derek asked, looking like he was offended at the very notion, sliding a fork to Stiles as he sat down at the countertop, that offended look only growing as Stiles snorted.

“I dunno, I thought you might have changed your mind about it. Dude, you sent me a ‘we should talk’ text. I’m no expert, but I know that nothing good follows a ‘we should talk’ text,” Stiles said around a mouth full of bread, but any degree of playful levity he had gone for was sapped out of his voice the moment he saw Derek look back down at his plate.

“That, uh. I do think we should talk, but not about that. Stiles, I...”

Ah, fuck. Derek’s ears were pink again, and for once, Stiles thought that was a bad thing.

Stiles did his best not to panic as he thought through things, wondering what he had fucked up, because he just knew he had fucked up a little something. Maybe he had come on a little too strong last night, maybe he had gotten too comfortable with his crush, maybe—

“I was thinking that maybe… we shouldn’t be faking this anymore.”

—or maybe, he had fucked up a whole lot of everything.

Stiles felt his heart sink through his shoes as he swallowed his bread, his appetite suddenly gone. He brushed his hands on his jeans, giving a few short nods, swallowing again as he pushed back from the table a little bit. He thought for a moment that he should argue against it, but Derek had a sad puppy expression splashed across his face, and Stiles wasn’t strong against that on a good day.

“Oh.”

He could feel Derek’s eyes tracking him as he started to move, standing up and starting an easy track around the kitchen, flexing his fingers before he rubbed his palm with his thumbs, an old habit he had thought he had kicked back when he graduated from Berkeley.

“I think, uh, maybe you should wait until you’re back in New York to tell your family?” Stiles started, missing the tiny smile on Derek’s face before it melted into a look of confusion. “You should tell them I broke up with you, not the other way around, I don’t mind being the bad guy,” he added, staring down at his hands.

“Wait, Stiles—“

“No, seriously, it’s fine,” Stiles interrupted, putting a smile back on his face, because he knew this was going to be coming at some point. Derek had made up their entire relationship, and Stiles had worked hard to remember that the reality of it was… that it wasn’t reality. He was the one with the inconvenient crush, he was the one who had gotten stupid. This was all on him, and taking the high road to bow out gracefully would be too.

Or, at least, it should have been. But Derek had abandoned his seat as well, halfway following Stiles in his trail around the kitchen, putting his arm out against a countertop to stop Stiles at a turn.

“I said I wanted to stop faking, Stiles.”

Hell, when had Derek gotten so close to him? Stiles blinked as he backed up against the counter, Derek’s arms closing him in, and suddenly he was getting an up close and personal look at Derek’s lips, and his eyes, and the way the blush was going back up his ears, and—

...why was Derek blushing?

“I never said anything about wanting you to leave.”

But why would Stiles be staying if… oh. Oh.

Realization dawned on Stiles’ face as Derek blushed and looked down, moving his hands a little bit closer against the counter, and Stiles felt a shiver run down his spine as he felt Derek’s thumb settle right along his hip. He had to clear his throat before he could speak, swallowing down the hope that was threatening to bubble over, chewing on his lip as he put one hand on Derek’s chest, the other gently tipping his head back to look him in the eye.

“Dude, if you’re saying what I think you’re saying, you gotta spell it out, I’ve had a crush on you for like forever and if I’m mis-reading this—”

“I told you. I’m your boyfriend, don’t call me dude.”

Stiles laughed again, elation making him feel light and giddy, finally breaking eye contact with Derek as he felt his own blush burn through the back of his neck.

“Stay, Stiles. You belong here. With me.”

Rather than even try to form a coherent response, Stiles dropped one of his hands, cheeks still a ruddy color as he looped a finger into one of the belt loops on Derek’s designer jeans, pulling him just that much closer.

“Derek?”

“Yeah?”

“I’m going to kiss you now.”

“Oh, thank God—"

—————

Yeah, Stiles thought hours later, still feeling the warmth of Derek’s smile against his lips as howls sounded off around the Hale House, moonlight swirling around him from the vantage point he had on the porch.

This was exactly where he belonged.

#teen wolf #sterek #stiles stilinski #derek hale #hale family #teen wolf fic #fake dating #everyone lives #two halves of a whole idiot #this is actually my first sterek fic ever lmao HOW WILD

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blackcloverdatabase · 5 years ago

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English Translation of Novel 2: Chapter 3 – The Special Assault Squad Sprints Onward (Part 1 of 2)

Here’s the first half of the last untranslated chapter from novel 2! This chapter is all Magna and Luck, plus a new character named Morgan. This chapter also features some more information about dungeons and the people who explore them. We also learn more about the rampant classism in Clover Kingdom. It sure is rough to be a peasant.

--- The Special Assault Squad Sprints Onward (Part 1) ---

Clouds of dust blew violently over a desolate wasteland.

“……We’re here.”

“Yup~”

Treading upon the dry earth, Magna and Luck sported fearless smiles on their faces.

“……..Oh~ This place looks pretty tough.”

They stood before an enormous dungeon the size of a mountain wrapped in sinister magic. The two were about to enter, not because it was given to them as a mission, nor for their own sakes.

It was to heal Asta’s arms.

“A ha ha. Are you scared, Magna?”

Asta’s arms were destroyed in a fierce battle against Vetto, a user of beast magic, at the Underwater Temple. Moreover, his wounds were enchanted with ancient curse magic, so he was told that his arms would never return to normal. However, even when Asta learned of this, he didn’t give up hope. He said he wouldn’t give up. In fact, he shouted as if to fight against fate itself. If anyone had a right to despair, it was him. If anyone had a right to cry, it was him. He did neither. Instead, he shouted. He shouted that anything can be healed, and even if his arms never heal, he’ll find a way to fight without them.

He took the blow reality gave him positively, without giving up.

“Who’s scared!? If anything, I’m excited!”

Thus, as his friends, as his seniors, there was only one thing they needed to do. Everyone in the Black Bulls began a search for a cure to heal his arms. The worst of all the squads, a squad of rough and rowdy hoodlums, all banded together for a single newcomer. They all scattered in different directions to find any sort of hint to cure his arms.

“Wait for us, Asta……!!”

The place Magna and Luck were facing was a dungeon in the wastelands of the Forsaken Realm. No matter what they had to do or how long it would take, they’ll save Asta. With such thoughts in their hearts, they stepped foot into the dungeon.

……However,

“AAAAAAAAAH!”

In less than ten minutes since they entered, they sprinted back to where they started with incredible speed.

“A ha ha ha! I was right! You’re totally scared~”

“AM NOT! I’m not scared, but……”

He shouted to Luck, who was running beside him, then turned his head over his shoulder to looked behind him.

Behind Magna and Luck, those things were chasing after them with tremendous momentum.

“GeGaaaaah!”

Those things were skeleton soldiers wearing tattered armor, armored headless knights (Dullahans), and more. A grotesque group of them had appeared together with an eerie black smoke.

“I didn’t know there were going to be GHOSTS!”

It was a dungeon full of unidentifiable monsters – a ghost dungeon. It was apparent to them that this was the type of dungeon they got themselves involved in.

“Haah……Haah……Hah…… How is it, Luck? Did we lose them?”

Magna was hidden in a small chamber of the dungeon as he whispered to Luck. The dungeon was structured like an anthill. There were many chambers in the dungeon with countless entrance and exit ways connected to each other by various passageways. The two managed to shake off the ghosts that were chasing them by jumping into one of these small chambers. They held their breaths as they checked the passageway.

“…….Okay. It looks clear. For now, I don’t sense their mana…… Even so, A ha ha, I don’t know if it’s possible to sense a ghost’s mana, so it’s possible they could come out at any moment.”

“S-stop scaring me! …….No, wait! I’m not scared! Don’t you look down on me!”

He wasn’t scared, but he looked all around the narrow stone chamber they were in with utmost caution.

“……. Seriously, what’s with this dungeon. I expected the trap magic and security golems, but the ghosts are……”

At first, he thought they were created with some sort of trap magic, so he tried blasting them with his magic. Since he was so afraid……. No, since he was so excited, he put a considerable amount of power into his attack. However, no matter how many times he struck them down, the skeleton soldiers’ bones would reattach to each other, and their bodies would return back to normal. Even the Dullahans’ armor would regenerate. As this back and forth continued, a ridiculous number of monsters had gathered, and an eerie black smoke began to obstruct his vision, so they decided to run away. In the end, he wasn’t sure what those things were.

“……Damn it. That old hag recommended one hell of a dungeon to us.”

“Old hag?”

Luck tilted his head in confusion at Magna’s curses. Magna nodded before elaborating,

“Yeah. An old hag sometimes shows up at the black market’s gambling dens. When she gambles, she’s really good. I had her predict my fortune, and she told me to capture this dungeon.”

This all happened last night. Magna had gone to be black market to buy some medicines that restore magic power. There, he ran into that old woman, and when he explained his circumstances to her, she read his fortune and advised him to capture this dungeon.

“……..Huh? Maybe this sounds weird coming from me, but isn’t that kinda shady?”

“At first, I thought so, too. But she’s famous for her accurate predictions. Also, that old hag said that Asta helped her out not too long ago.”

She told him that, when her purse was stolen from her, Asta, Noelle, and Vanessa retrieved it for her, so she felt a dept of gratitude toward everyone in the Black Bulls. Because of that, she cordially offered her consultation services to him, but…….

“……Damn it! Return the favor my foot! Her fortune telling must be bogus after all!”

“A ha ha…… is it, I wonder?”

“Anyway, are those things really ghosts? Do ghosts really exist?”

“Hm, I’m not sure, but whether they’re ghosts or not doesn’t change the fact that we don’t know what they are. I’m not sure why, but my mana perception doesn’t work on them.”

Luck generated lightning from his fingertips. As he looked at the lightning he was generating, he said,

“Well, maybe my mana perception isn’t working because we’re in an area with strong magic…… but I’ve never had this happen before. Not once.”

Like dungeons, there are special areas that generate strong mana, known as Strong Magic Regions. Unusual magic phenomena often occur in these regions, and the phenomena they cause can vary widely, but there have been cases of mana perception being rendered useless in these regions. However, a normal dungeon wouldn’t weaken his mana perception to this degree. If an enemy was nearby, then he absolutely should be able to sense them, and he should have been able to learn the general structure of this dungeon as well. However, for some reason, he couldn’t do either of those. There truly was something strange about this dungeon.

“……Well, that’s why this dungeon is worth capturing!”

Luck crushed the lightning in his hand, extinguishing it. He then added gleefully,

“This dungeon’s huge, I can’t use my mana perception, and there’s even ghosts…… A ha ha! The treasures hidden in here must be amazing!”

Dungeons are remnants left behind by the ancients, places where valuable magic tools and books that describe how to use powerful ancient magic are stored. The larger and more difficult the dungeon, the more valuable the treasures it contains. There’s a good chance that those treasures will contain a hint for curing Asta’s arms.

“Also……”

Luck’s soft smile transformed into a belligerent one.

“If we clear this dungeon, I bet we’ll level up.”

“……Yeah, you’re right.”

The main reason they decided to capture this dungeon was, of course, to find a clue for curing Asta’s arms. The second reason they came to this dungeon, however, was to get stronger. As much as they didn’t want to think of this, as Asta’s seniors, they had to consider the possibility that Asta’s arms won’t heal. Even if they don’t heal, Asta said that he would continue fighting. No matter what people around him might say to stop him, he’ll continue fighting. That’s why Luck and Magna need to get stronger – to support him.

Finding a clue to heal Asta’s arms and getting stronger. Maybe they were being too greedy, but as long as they succeed in doing one of those things, they’ll be able to help Asta. Conversely, they didn’t plan to return to the base until they succeeded in doing at least one of those things. They were here because of that resolve.

“…….Well, let’s go.”

Magna slammed his fist into his leg, which was still shivering from earlier.

“Everything happened so suddenly earlier that I got a little sca…… that I got a little impatient, but next time, I’ll expose them for what they really are and crush ‘em! All crush all those monsters!”

Magna pumped himself up as he stood up. At that moment,

“Is someone there?”

They heard a small voice from the doorway of the small chamber they were in.

“EEEK!”

Magna jumped toward Luck.

“Ah, s-sorry! I wasn’t trying to scare you or anything……”

The person who entered the chamber was a young girl, who apologized as she approached them. She looked like she was in her mid-teens. She had smooth, shoulder-length blonde hair, and she wore a frilled cloak. She looked like a totally normal young girl. However, no matter how Magna thought about it, it was strange that a young girl like her would be alone in a dungeon, which means she must be……

“……Oh, Oooooooh! Oh no! They’re already back! So this time it’s a girl monster!? Don’t scare me like that! N-not that I was scared, okay!?”

He peeled himself off from Luck and tried to turn-up his delinquent vibes as he stuttered. He was about to fire his magic, but then,

“I’m sorry! I’m sorry!! S-sniffle…….sniffle…….”

“……….Huh?”

The girl’s shoulders jumped up in surprise, and then she started sobbing.

“Sniff……..sniffle……. That’s right. I-I’m not cute at all, and I scared you……. so of course you’d call me a monster. I have no worth as a living being after all…….”

“N-no! Wait a minute! Why’d you interpret what I said like that!? I didn’t call you a monster because I was trying to be mean!”

Magna felt incredibly guilty. Luck rarely did this, but he recoiled in disgust.

“Wow…... Magna, you made a girl cry. You know…… you should apologize. You can’t just pour on as many insults as you want, even if it’s just a stranger.”

“I’m not trying to insult her though!? She just twisted what I said into something negative! Actually, that’s not important right now! No matter how you slice it, it’s weird that a girl would be here by herself!”

“Sorry. This guy is a bit weird in the head.”

Luck ignored Magna and smiled at the girl to calm her down.

“I’m Luck. This delinquent here is Magna. We’re Magic Knights.”

“……Magic……Knights?”

When she heard those words, she raised her head up a bit to look at Luck. Even though she calmed down to some degree, it seemed that she couldn’t bring herself to say anything else since she was still so cautiously alert.

“….Yup, we’re Magic Knights. We came to capture this dungeon on a little mission of ours.”

Luck continued to speak to ease her discomfort. She stared at Luck blankly, before looking at Magna with a frightened expression once more,

“Eeek! ……I-I see. This person’s planning to abuse his authority to drag me to the ground…….”

“I wasn’t planning to do that at all! What’s with all your wild ideas!?”

“……Magna, I misjudged you! To think you’d try to do that to a young lady!”

“I wasn’t doing anything! Don’t let her manipulate you like that!”

Magna yelled at Luck, but then he suddenly stopped as if he lost his strength. This was ridiculous. Rather, it was a complete waste of breath. He took a small but deep breath before speaking with a mild-mannered tone of voice.

“…… Sorry for yelling so suddenly like I did. Could you please tell us your name and what you’re doing here?”

She paused a bit before wiping her tears.

“……. My name’s Morgan.”

Then, she looked like she resigned herself to fate when she said,

“……I also entered this dungeon because I have business here.”

“……Huh?”

This time, it was Luck who made a puzzled expression on his face. Fundamentally speaking, a dungeon is placed under national control the moment it is discovered. This is to prevent its relics from being stolen by someone from another country or a person with wicked intentions. This dungeon is no exception. Public access should be strictly prohibited. They didn’t know what kind of business this Morgan woman had, but there was no way she would have been allowed in without authorization. Just when Luck was about to ask her to elaborate, Magna, who was keeping watch at the passageway, shouted,

“Hey, Luck! Th-the ghosts are here!”

“GeeehGaaaaaah!”

A scream echoed from the floor beneath them, accompanied by a large number of footsteps coming from the interior of the passageway.

“Huh~ A ha ha, what’s with that? I guess I really can’t sense their mana after all?”

“Now’s not the time for that! What do we do!? Should we fight back!?”

The monsters were running with tremendous speed straight at them, hardly giving them enough time to think. Luck thought for a moment before replying,

“……I’d really like to, but let’s withdraw.”

His fighting instincts felt like they would emerge any moment now, but he endured it patiently. They haven’t developed any concrete measures against the ghosts, and they have Morgan to take care of. It would be too difficult to try fighting monsters they don’t understand while trying to protect someone. Those were his thoughts as they tried heading toward the passage at the other side of the room.

“H-hey! Hey! Luck! From the other side! They’re coming from the other side, too!!”

Just as Magna said, screams and footsteps were coming from the end of the other passageway, too.

“A ha ha……. A pincer attack?”

Luck whispered in response to what seemed like the perfect maneuvers to trap them, but at that moment,

“O-over here! There’s a hidden passageway in this room! We can escape through here!”

Although she was acting like a klutz earlier, Morgan ran across the room and pushed on a portion of the wall. When she did, the wall slid to the side, becoming an entrance to a passageway leading to the interior of the dungeon.

“H-huh!? Why do you know about that!?”

“I’ll explain later! Just get over here!”

“……….”

Magna and Luck looked at each other. They were in an unknown dungeon surrounded by unknown enemies being guided down an unknown girl down an unknown passageway. The whole situation was completely incomprehensible. Rather, the situation was completely haphazard.

“……This situation fits us perfectly!”

“Doesn’t it!?”

They understood each other’s intentions immediately and then turned their backs to each other.

“Fire Magic: Exploding Buckshot”

“Lightning Magic: Thunderclap Crumbling Orb”

After slamming the ghosts with a massive attack, they stepped into the hidden passage that Morgan opened.

“……For now, there’s nothing wrong with me being here, right?”

“……Sure. Thanks for the help.”

Magna replied to Morgan as he looked around the area she guided them to. It was a small room approximately the same size as the room they were in earlier. By the time they shook the ghosts from their tails, they somehow wound up here, but……

“…….So, how come you know so much about this dungeon, anyway?”

“……..”

……That was because the girl guided them through a countless number of passageways, rooms, and hidden doorways, even though this dungeon hasn’t even been captured yet. Why does this young girl know her way around a dungeon that even the Magic Knights haven’t figured out yet?

“Ummm……”

She hesitated to answer, but, eventually, she looked up toward Magna.

“……Y-you won’t eat me if I tell you, will you?”

“I won’t! What the heck do you think I am anyway!?”

“Eek!? You yelled at me…….Y-you’re so scary…….. s-sniffle…….”

She began to sob again as she said this, making Magna feel another pang of guilt. At the very least, he knew two things about this girl named Morgan…… she knows a lot about this dungeon, and she’s a total crybaby.

“Sniffle……. I-I’m sorry. I like archeology, so…….. I entered this dungeon without permission and did a lot of research…….”

She was a total crybaby, but once she finished crying, she gave them a heartfelt apology.

“……I see.”

As a Magic Knight, he could say that she was probably a dungeon plunderer – a generic term for nefarious people who enter dungeons without permission and take any treasures they find. He wasn’t sure what her goal was, but she was probably a member of one such group. One of the jobs of a Magic Knight is to capture such nefarious people, but……

“Well, you can answer us later.”

“I-I can!?”

Morgan raised her voice in surprise at Magna’s casual reply.

“Um…… maybe it’s wrong of me to out myself like this, but I’m basically a dungeon plunderer, you know?”

Morgan shook with fear as she averted her eyes.

“I-I was told that if I was ever caught by the Magic Knights, they would peel off all my fingernails and force me to drink an entire pot of boiling water……”

“Just what kind of group do you think the Order of Magic Knights is, anyway? We don’t do stuff like that……. Actually,”

Magna and Luck glanced at each other.

“We also came here on unofficial business, so we can’t exactly rat you out……. To begin with, capturing dungeon plunderers is….. you know? That’s work for a proper Magic Knight to do.”

“Yup! A ha ha! The Black Bulls have destroyed our fair share of ruins, too, so I don’t think that kind of work will get assigned to us anytime soon!”

“……T-the Black……. Bulls……”

Her face instantly became as white as a ghost, and tears began to gather around the corners of her eyes.

“……Eek! Sniffle….. S-so I am screwed after all. You’re going to abuse me, beat me up, and parade me around the capital…….!”

“What kind of weird ritual is that!? No! We’re not gonna do that……. But, we would like your cooperation, if possible.”

The corners of Magna’s mouth upturned into a small smile.

“You’ve investigated the inside of this dungeon, so you know its layout, right? You even knew about that hidden passageway earlier.”

“H-huh? Well, yes……”

“Then, could you guide us to the treasure room?”

This was crazy. She knew that. Even if only for just a bit, she forgot about her usual negative thoughts as she took a step back. When she found out they were Magic Knights, she was worried that they would get mad at her, but, honestly, she was also relieved. Walking through such a dangerous dungeon on her own, she could tell that she was reaching her limit. However, they were Black Bulls. Even out here in the outskirts of the Forsaken Realm, they were an infamously dangerous group. Frankly, she didn’t want anything to do with them.

“A ha ha! Magna, you can’t just ask her that~”

Luck appeared from behind her like a lifeboat. He seemed like a gentle human being, someone she could speak honestly with. Thinking this, Morgan turned around to face him……

“First, we have to ask her…….. how to slaughter those ghosts, right?”

“………”

When she did, she saw that Luck’s smile looked even crazier than Magna’s, his pupils dilated like a psychopath’s.

“……You see, I’m already at my limit~ When I’m faced with such interesting opponents, I just gotta fight them! A ha ha, I want to reduce them all to cinders…… but I might damage the dungeon if I do that.”

“……Eek!”

Morgan finally realized it…….

“……So, can you please spill everything you know for us?”

……The two in front of her were the most dangerous monsters here.

In any case,

“I……. I understand. I don’t know if I’ll be enough for you…… but I’ll guide you, and I’ll tell you everything I know.”

Morgan fortified her resolve as she faced them. She thought they were crazy. However, earlier, they fought while protecting her. Even after that, they seemed like they were trying to look after her. They weren’t that unreasonable. Most of all, they were strong. If she’s with them, then maybe……

“So…… um, I know I’m not in a position to say this, but…… in return, could you please listen to my request?”

Morgan examined their expressions as she continued,

“Um……. I’d like you to take back what was taken from me at this dungeon.”

“……What was taken from you?”

Luck tilted his head as he asked. Morgan nodded in response and clarified,

“……My grimoire.”

After that, as Morgan promised, she guided Luck and Magna to the treasure hall. Along the way, she told her story. As she mentioned before, she loves archeology, so since a young age she has been sneaking into dungeons as a hobby. Just as she has done before, she undid the trap magic in this dungeon as she went to capture it, but in the second half of her journey, she ran into a problem. In addition to the trap magic that was installed, there were combat golems stationed inside, which fight to eliminate any invaders. One of the golems protecting this dungeon took her grimoire. After being defeated by a golem and losing her grimoire, she has been wandering through this dungeon for days, waiting for a chance to take back the grimoire that was stolen from her.

“……I’m not sure how to say this, but, well, you kind of had that coming.”

He ended up saying with a bored expression on his face.

“S……sorry. When I heard that this dungeon wasn’t captured and was full of dangerous traps…… I thought ‘Aah, that sounds so nice! What a lovely dungeon!’, so I couldn’t help it……”

Morgan said something completely incomprehensible to Magna with tears in her eyes.

“A ha ha! I understand! Even if I know that my opponent is crazy dangerous, when I think about what kind of magic they might use, I really want to fight them to the death!”

“Right!? Even if a dungeon is filled with trap magic that could totally kill me if I don’t deactivate it, I end up tripping it anyway so that I can see how it works!”

“You two are totally in sync in the psycho department. What a dicey conversation.”

Even though Magna commented as such, he knew that this didn’t erase the fact that he’s a bit crazy, too.

“Anyway, the biggest problem are those monsters. We’ll have to face them at some point if we’re making our way to the treasure room.”

Actually, they were attacked by those monsters many more times after that. Each time, Morgan would guide them to an escape, but there was no place for them to settle down.

“……I’m sorry. Even I don’t know what those monsters are.”

Unfortunately, an essential part of what they needed to know couldn’t be explained from Morgan’s research, either.

“All I can say is that those monsters only appeared recently. When I first entered this dungeon, they weren’t here…… If they were golems or if they were the result of trap magic, then they should have been here from the beginning, but……”

“A ha ha! In other words, these ghosts are……. An existence that isn’t supposed to be here, right?”

Luck’s nonchalant words sent a shiver down Magna’s spine. If he puts it like that, then those things really are……

“Did you set off any traps that might have set those ghosts free?”

In contrast to Magna, who was frightened……. Er, rather, a little bit surprised by Morgan’s words, Luck was calm and composed as he asked her. However, Morgan shook her head.

“I haven’t. I’ve explored countless dungeons, and it would be impossible to activate such large-scale trap magic without noticing it.”

“I-I see……”

Magna couldn’t help but nod at Morgan’s surprisingly persuasive words.

“……By the way, how many dungeons have you explored without permission, anyway?”

“……Well, I’ll leave that to your imagination.”

Morgan turned her eyes away from them with tremendous speed. They were the eyes of a habitual criminal.

“There’s one other thing that struck me as odd…… Before those monsters appeared, I could sense mana perfectly fine. I was able to reach the treasure room by doing that.”

When Morgan forced the conversation back to the main subject, Luck spoke quietly, as if he was thinking out loud.

“Then, those ghosts are doing something to block our mana perception……. Is that right?”

“I think so…… but, I’m not really sure what we can do about it…… To begin with, if our opponents really are ghosts, then I have no idea how they could be causing it…...”

“Yeah. Well, if they really are ghosts, then I don’t think common sense applies to them in general……”

The two stood with troubled expressions on their faces for some time before, finally, Luck gave up and said,

“Hmm, it’s no good. I haven’t had enough death matches, so I can’t think straight. Sorry, Magna. Can I snap some of your ribs? I only need to break three.”

“Don’t ask someone if you can break their bones like you’re asking for a quick favor! ……Well, I’m getting tired of trying to use our heads, too. It doesn’t suit us.”

He wasn’t scared…… or rather, excited, by those monsters anymore. After encountering them over and over again, he had gotten used to them.

“The next time those guys attack us, let’s waste ‘em.”

Magna said with a villainous grin on his face. In the end, they were going to do what they were planning to do from the beginning. When he was firing his magic earlier, he was holding back. Even so, he found that this dungeon was built quite sturdily. It won’t fall apart if he goes all out for a bit.

“……Right. I don’t think I’ll be able to hold back much longer, either.”

As if he was thinking the same thing Magna was, Luck said this with a voice filled with frustration.

Seeing those two like this, Morgan went as pale as a ghost and said with a flagrantly fake smile,

“T-then, the next time we encounter those monsters, I’ll just go somewhere else……”

“Just telling you this in advance, but you’ll actually be safest if you’re near us.”

“…… Sniffle”

Morgan began to cry softly, but Magna patted her back with a wry smile on his face and said,

“Don’t cry. You’ve entered countless dungeons before, right? You’ve got the guts to get through this.”

“Sniffle….. I get the feeling that this dungeon is more dangerous than the others, though.”

Not because of the trap magic and the golems, but because she was stuck with these two.

“Seriously though, how many dungeons have you gone to before this one? I won’t get mad, so just tell me already.”

“U-uh…….”

Once again, she averted her eyes when Magna asked her this.

“A-about forty, I think?”

Magna gave her a karate chop.

“Eeek!? You told me you wouldn’t get mad!”

“Yeah, but forty!? You’ve been to more dungeons than most low-ranking Magic Knights!”

Moreover, that was way more than the number of dungeons Magna has been to. Actually, he didn’t know there even were that many dungeons out there.

“I-I’m sorry! I’m sorry! If you indiscriminately enter every dungeon you hear about, then you just end up visiting that many eventually…… But, please don’t crush my eyeballs! Please!”

“……I was never planning to, but make this the last dungeon you sneak into. You’re lucky we’re the ones that found you. If another Magic Knight found you, you’d have been arrested.”

“A ha ha! Well, there’s that. But it’s also just really dangerous. This time, it was just your grimoire that was taken from you, but next time could be your life!”

“……Yes, you’re right.”

Morgan nodded in response to their scolding, reflecting on her actions penitently.

‘Did I go too far?’ Magna thought, but, a moment later, Morgan went back to normal and smiled.

“Even before all this, I was thinking about making this dungeon my last……. My siblings have all grown up now, so there’s no longer any need for me to earn money this way.”

“……You were doing this for money?”

Magna tilted his head as he asked. With a contrite smile, Morgan responded,

“Yes, I would draw maps of the dungeon and sell them to Magic Knights. I was born in a village in the Forsaken Realm named Seitan, so there wasn’t any other way for me to make money. By selling those maps, I was able to make just enough to get by.”

“……I see.”

As mentioned earlier, it is strictly forbidden for civilians to enter a dungeon. However, frankly speaking, if they have been assigned to a dungeon, a lot of Magic Knights would love to have a detailed map of a dungeon that hasn’t been captured yet. It’s a different story if you have a Magic Knight on your team who can map out the dungeon themselves, such as Mimosa and Luck, but if you don’t have someone on your team who can do that, then such a map would be a crucial asset.

Morgan drew maps of unconquered dungeons, and Magic Knights bought them. Those were the kinds of illegal transactions that were taking place. It may sound wrong of either side to do that, but that type of thing happens when both sides’ interests are in alignment. It was an unspoken agreement.

“My dad died young, and my mom had a weak constitution…… the only thing we had in abundance was mouths to feed, so……. eh heh heh, I had to make money somehow.”

“So that’s how it is…… Um, couldn’t you have worked away from home in the Common Realm?”

Luck said in an unusually considerate way. Magna pushed his sunglasses to his face and answered for Morgan.

“It’s difficult for anyone born in the Forsaken Realm to get hired in the Common Realm. Well, someone born in the Common Realm wouldn’t realize that, though.”

He said this in an indifferent tone of voice.

“A lot of peasants have weak magical power, and others have such strange magic that nobody knows what to use it for, so they’re often judged to be inadequate as workers. Even if a peasant moves from home to work in the Common Realm, they would find nobody willing to employ them…… it would be a pointless waste of hotel expenses.”

However, most peasants find themselves unable to pay for those hotel expenses, so they end up working in the kitchens to pay that off. On the other hand, it’s not as if the Forbidden Realm has many jobs to offer, either. If a peasant has a large family filled with young children like Morgan’s, it would be hard just to earn enough food for the day.

“People unable to find work end up with no choice but to make money by doing dangerous work…... like her.”

Magna placed a hand on her head and apologized,

“I’m a peasant, too, so I get it. I’m sorry for saying that you deserved to have your grimoire taken from you……. You had your reasons.”

“Magna-san……”

Seeing him awkwardly try to be considerate of her feelings, she couldn’t help but say his name.

“Thank you…… b-but, I’m sorry. All of that is true, but…… in the end, one of the main reasons I started doing this is because I like it.”

She apologized, and then, with eyes filled with sorrow, continued,

“I really am worthless, a good-for-nothing…… I haven’t mentioned this yet, but my magic really is strange. It’s called Coating Magic. I can coat things with magic, and while it’s coated, it becomes sturdier and heavier. But that’s all it does……”

‘…….I see. It sounds like it could be useful, but it would be hard to find a job with magic like that.’

“Plus, I’m a crybaby, and I’m stupid…… I’m ugly, and I have small boobs. My legs are short, and my teeth aren’t lined up properly. I can’t skip, and I can’t stand coffee. I’ve realized that my drawings look really weird……. Sniffle”

“H-hey…… let’s leave it at that. My bad. I don’t really get what just happened, but it’s my bad, okay?”

Magna was waiting for her to finish her endless deluge of negativity. There was no reason for her to be so worried about weak points like that, but it kept on going, so he felt like he needed to do something quickly to stop her.

“……But, even somebody like me could help others capture a dungeon, even just a bit.”

She wiped away her tears, a small smile forming on her face.

“When I thought about how even somebody like me could be useful to my siblings, to those people in the Magic Knights, to anybody…… eh heh heh, I started to feel happy. I know what I was doing was wrong, but with each dungeon I entered, I started loving this job more and more.”

“……I see.”

Even though she was clumsy and prone to negativity, capturing dungeons was her hobby. It may seem contradictory for her hobby to be a dangerous job she took up out of necessity, but that seemed to be the case.

“Ah, b-but, like I said before, all my siblings are old enough to work now, so I truly was planning to make this dungeon my last……”

“Well, I’d say that’s a good idea. This may be fun for you, but it really is dangerous.”

Magna said with remorse as he gave her a small, pained smile.

“Actually, with that kind of courage and ability to take action, I think you’ll be able to find plenty of other ways you can make yourself useful. Find a different hobby and help others that way.”

He gave her words of encouragement, but tears began to form in the corners of Morgan’s eyes.

“……I-In other words, as I am right now, I’m trash that can’t help anyone…… I’m sorry. I’m sorry that someone like me wastes the clothes on my back.”

“Okay, I get it. First of all, you need to fix that negative mindset of yours, and fast.”

He didn’t say this for her sake, but rather for all the people that have to deal with her.

“……Weird magic….. doing dangerous things…… and making money……”

While the two of them went back and forth, as if he just had an epiphany, Luck mumbled to himself,

“……Oh, I see.”

Before clapping his hands together and turning toward Morgan.

“Hey Morgan-chan, recently…… that is, ever since the monsters started appearing, have there been any places in this dungeon you haven’t approached?”

“……Huh?”

Upon being asked such an abrupt question, Morgan had a blank expression on her face.

“Umm, I didn’t want to get targeted by them, so I’ve been careful about moving around, but…… I haven’t gone near the treasure room, not even once. The golem that stole my grimoire might be there, so I’ve been afraid to……”

“I see. And, while you were looking for the treasure room, you removed a lot of trap magic, right?”

“……. Yes.”

“I see……”

“…… Hey, what the hell? What the hell do you see?”

Magna asked impatiently, but Luck just started mumbling to himself again,

“There’s at least five of them…… no, six. Well, there’s probably more.”

That’s all he said before turning back toward Magna.

“…….A ha ha, I think I might’ve figured out the true identity of those monsters.”

He said in an excruciatingly casual tone of voice.

“Wait, what the hell-

‘Do you mean!?’ is how he wanted to end his question, but before he could finish,

“GeGAAAAAAAAAAAAAAH!!”

The monsters in question appeared, along with a thick, black smoke. Moreover, just as before, the monsters commenced a pincer attack. There was nowhere to run in this small chamber they found themselves trapped in, and, this time, there were no hidden passageways to be found.

“……What timing!”

Although they had decided on having an all-out battle with those monsters, their current location was terrible. They couldn’t use their full power in a narrow chamber like this, and it would be difficult to fight while protecting Morgan. It was as if those monsters were waiting for them to come to a place like this before launching their attack. However, they had no choice but to fight.

“Luck, you take care of the monsters in the back! I’ll pummel the guys in the front!”

Magna said to Luck before getting ready to fire his magic, but……

“No, let’s charge our way through the front!”

Luck completely overrode Magna’s instructions and rushed toward the group in front of them.

“Hey, wait!? You want to bulldoze through them!? There’s way too many of them!!”

Magna pulled Morgan along with him as they followed behind Luck. Luck didn’t slow down one bit, continuing to fire his magic.

“Just do it!!”

“……Fine!”

He wasn’t entirely convinced, but he had faith in Luck. Luck may be absurdly rash, but his intuition when it comes to battle was on-point. Luck sounded confident when he gave his orders, so that was enough reason for Magna to follow him.

“Hey, Morgan! Grab my waist and don’t let go!!”

“Eek! ……So you’re going to make me come with you after all!? “

As she shrieked, Magna confirmed that she was clinging firmly to him before turning around and facing forward. After doing so, Luck glanced back at them and nodded with his usual smile. Magna returned the nod, faced the enemies before them, and cast their spell.

“Flame-Lightning Explosive Cannon!”

The combo magic the two fired struck the monsters with a thunderous roar, wiping out the entire frontline of the monster army. Magna and Luck fired simultaneously at point-blank range. Normally, they would use all the mana they have to launch such an attack, but, this time, they held back to preserve their strength for later. Even though they were holding back, the power of their combo spell was still immense. It sent all the monsters at the frontlines flying in an instant, and the aftershock blew away the monsters at the center. It was a surefire one-hit killer.

However, just as before, the skeleton soldiers and dullahans quickly revived themselves. They didn’t appear to have taken any damage, but……

“Orraaaaah! Exploding Buckshot! Exploding Buckshot! Exploding Buckshot!”

“A ha ha! Thunderclap Crumbling Orb! Thunderclap Crumbling Orb! Thunderclap Crumbling Orb! Thunderclap Crumbling Orb!!”

Not seeming to notice or care, Luck and Magna continued to pummel them with their magic as if they were laying siege on a castle. The skeleton soldiers’ bones shattered into little pieces and turned to charcoal. The Dullahan’s armor got smashed up. It seemed that their attack rate was starting to outspeed their ability to regenerate. And then,

“GeGaaah…… GEGAH!?”

There was a slight change in the groans the monsters gave out. Even then, the two didn’t stop their attacks. On the contrary, their attacks continued to gain more and more momentum as they charged toward the monster army. Once they reached the rear guard,

“GeGaaah…….. Ge- wait!? What the hell!? Why aren’t they stopping!?”

The groans of those monsters changed into that of a human’s.

“A ha ha! We found you!”

He was waiting for this moment. Luck leaped up and flew toward the back of the monster army, where he heard the human voice.

“Oh shit! Ohhh shit! They’re here! Hey, what do we do!?”

“H-hell if I know! It’s your fault for crying out like that!”

There were several stern-looking men hidden within the smoke. They were a rough-looking lot, all of them dressed in filthy-looking robes. If one were asked to imagine a bandit or robber, they would probably look exactly like that. Moreover, all of them had their grimoires open.

“A ha ha! I…… knew it!”

After confirming their location, Luck shot a ball of lightning at their feet.

“Woah, Uoooaaaaah!?”

The instant they were blown away, the monsters stopped moving. Like a puppet whose strings were cut, they fell apart with a clatter.

“Haaah……. Hah….. I get it now.”

Magna walked up toward Luck as he caught his breath, while also confirming that Morgan was still clinging to his waist. With her eyes rolled to the back of her head, she mumbled,

“I’m sorry. I’m sorry. I won’t do anything bad ever again. Please don’t turn me into pig feed……”

She was still conscious, so they supposed she was probably okay. She’s probably not traumatized. Hopefully.

“These guys were controlling those monsters…… right?”

“A ha ha! Probably~”

Luck said casually as he surveyed the men they caught.

“Earlier, you were talking about weird magic, right, Magna? I was wondering if a few people with weird magic could combine their spells to make something like those monsters~ A ha ha! Looks like I was right!”

As he talked, he got closer to their prisoners. Although they were blown away by such a flashy attack, they were still conscious.

“……Well, I guess we don’t have to worry about that anymore.”

Magna squatted in delinquent fashion in front of one of their prisoners, a bald-headed man, as Luck cracked his knuckles behind him.

“We have to pay them back properly for chasing after us so persistently……. Right?”

“ A ha ha……. Right.”

“Eek!”

Needless to say, the two had a dangerous look in their eyes.

— To be continued in Part 2 —

The fact Morgan has to risk her life to create maps of dungeons to sell for Magic Knights gave me a new found respect for all those video game npcs that sell your character maps. Like her, some of them must have gone into those temples and dungeons themselves to draw them. The things I don’t think about when I play Nintendo games….

Things might be rough for Magna in the manga right now, but it’s nice to see some more of Magna and Luck being bros.

This chapter was ghosts, next chapter is golems!

#Black Clover #magna swing #luck voltia #translations #Order of Knights book

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facelessfrey · 4 years ago

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Roswell New Mexico Season 2, Episode 13

- I’m sure that wasn’t supposed to be comedy but I literally laughed through most of that and I’m still laughing at the last scene. I can’t. I just...I can’t. I mean what the fuck even was half of that?!?!?

- I mean that episode was WILD. I don’t even know where to begin. This is going to get long...you are forewarned.

- Let’s start with the EXTREMELY RAPID conclusion of last week’s mortal peril. Yep....let’s just do some CPR...not even have to break out the alien defibrillator powers and oh look Max is just fine. I mean...thank god cause I could not go through a repeat of last season although...considering the last scene...that might be preferable. (I’m still laughing...like full on cracking up and my roommates probably think I’m nuts). Then we’ve got Liz dumping the contents of some top secret recipe giant ketchup bottles on the alien console and oh...yep....melted. Glad that crisis was averted. Then we have some random shots of people going to the hospital and oh look...everyone’s alive and fine except...Jesse Manes. I mean...don’t get me wrong...he’s a monster and I’m not sorry he’s dead by my god what a pitiful end to a character that should have been a really good villain but instead was a guy who limped around in the background most of the season until suddenly in one episode it turns out he had been putting together a dastardly plan to show the aliens as the monsters they are and then murder them....sure. Why not?!?! Well...I guess it’s nice that that barely three episode arc of Gregory Manes wanting to stand up for Alex got some closure. I just...it’s so dumb!!!!

- Oh wait...I forgot...not shocking cause it was literally two seconds, but hey...Helena randomly went back and saved Charlie and proceeded to yell at her for getting chained up and not leaving while she freed her. Cool.

- Right...so that’s all wrapped up in the opening five minutes...let’s just move on...we’ve got a lot of other insane junk we have to throw into the next 35 minutes. Yep...still laughing.

- Let’s just kick things off with Michael and Maria...and now I’m laughing again. I did ask the show to prove me wrong earlier today and well...I mean....they half did?!?!?!! Except it was literally insane so I don’t even know what to say. So...Maria’s just fine cause you know she was only half alien so that’s cool and great and then oh wait...she just happens to have a magic plot box dropped off by Mimi. Thanks Mimi...you still have no real purpose in this story except to occasionally move the plot forward but thanks for the box. But Michael doesn’t trust Mimi’s plot hints so he doesn’t want to open the box. Instead....he goes to hang with Alex and they destroy the shed together, which admittedly was a very nice scene and totally gave me Stendan in Dublin vibes and I quite liked it.

- But it was also all so they could find a literal skeleton under the floorboards. Gotta get those callbacks in eh? Hahaha. And of course it’s Tripp! Who else would it be? And of course...he’s got the magical key so it turns out Mimi really is tuned into the plot and read ahead in the script and knew that box would be important! So back to Maria he goes after having this super cathartic scene with Alex that tied into their emotional past together. I mean...par for the course...and I was fully ready for the whiplash that was going to make me crazy and you know...I was not disappointed because they started out being all “hey I love you” and I was like “eye roll knew that was coming” but then! She just up and breaks up with him because that’s what you do after a mutual I love you that’s based on zero relationship development over the past twelve and a half episodes. And once again...I am laughing.

- I mean...I’ll say this...I’m glad it was her that broke up with him and in part because she totally knows he’s in love with Alex and we have been saying that literally all season so like I’m glad she noticed. But I literally died when she was all “I’ve learned so much from this relationship”. What?! What did you learn? Did you get motivation in your script direction that we weren’t privy to because I still have literally no idea what either of you were supposed to be getting out of that relationship but hey...who cares cause it’s over now and Maria just decided that so it’s all fine. No heartbreak there. And you know...Michael seems totally cool with it. Barely even put up a fight. Hahahahaha. Again...I can’t.

- So then we go back to Alex and Michael and Isobel who is all of a sudden team Malex this episode when previously she was inventing emojis for Michael’s Maria hearteyes so yeah...all of this is just really confusing. But hey! The box has Tripp’s journal in it and descriptions that make Michael squirm but also....Tripp and Nora’s love was...wait for....COSMIC! Hahaha. Oh this show. It’s drunk on it’s own absurdity. So anyway...we’re filled in on the rest of Tripp and Nora’s story...well...sort of. We know she tried ice cream and liked it and there was talk of the mystery bad man that wasn’t Noah but uh...more on that later. Haha. Well...I guess we know Harlan killed Tripp and we unfortunately saw Nora die so that’s a wrap on the 1947 flashbacks I guess?!?! Sure.

- Oh god and the song...since we’re on Malex anyway. I mean...I liked the song and yeah....he got all the references in there. I never look away...cosmic...sure. And I knew once Forrest was there that kiss was going to happen but my god...are we really setting up season three where now Alex is the one in a random relationship and Michael is trying to be happy for him and we repeat season two’s nonsense?! Are we going to have another threesome just for funzies because you know...that was still LITERALLY the dumbest and most pointless plot point of the season. But anyway, I’m happy Alex felt comfortable enough to sing a song about a guy and kiss a guy in front of a crowded bar but there was literally NO REASON it could not have been Michael. He and Forrest literally had like four scenes together this season compared to Malex who had this whole emotional arc but no...gotta make it complicated.

- Props to them for managing to have one last break up without actually even having a conversation this time. TALENT. LEGENDS ONLY.

- I guess at least now that there’s just a minor character in the way and they probably can’t actually kiss again due to coronavirus restrictions, there’s probably some hope for Malex next season?!?! Maybe they’ll find a vaccine by the time there’s a Malex reunion. Maybe good things come to those who suffer. Hahaha.

- Right...let’s move on to Max and Liz. So uhh...Max spends the whole episode seeming like he was hopped up on drugs again or desperate for a fix. What is in that antidote?! Once again we gloss over the “darkness” in Max because like who needs real follow up to the first five episodes of the season. Not this show!

- The whole “Max destroys Liz’s lab” plot was nuts. Just the sheer speed of it from Diego magically appearing at the diner with the Generyx woman to Jenna’s super spy disguise to Max just blowing up the lab as Diego and co drive up and then they just exit stage left super fast except for the fact that Liz is still seemingly going to California but like...why? Did Generyx woman still agree to give her a grant based on her exploding lab?! Did she just feel bad that she didn’t have a lab anymore?!

- Sidebar to Steph...fucking Steph...whose apparent entire purpose this season was to be sick enough to inspire Liz to do science and break up her and Max over it and then survive after Liz randomly finds time to give her some kind of half baked medicine from her lab BEFORE it exploded??!?! Or does she just carry that shit around with her? And for the love of god SOMEBODY SAVE KYLE from this EXCRUCIATINGLY BORING story!!!!!! Please don’t subject him to more of this next season. Let them break up during the pandemic and give Kyle a clean slate and allow him to reenter the narrative in a way that allows him actual screen time and scenes with the group. Sigh...at least he got to hug Liz and have a brief scene with Alex where Alex told him he was proof of redemption. Look at that character arc that was literally told in two scenes this season! Yeah...see they can be concise when they want to!

- Anyway...back to Max. OH MY GOD WHAT WAS THAT FINAL SCENE?!?!?!??! HAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA?!!? I don’t even know what I was expecting but it WAS NOT THAT! What even?!?! WHY AM I BEING SUBJECTED TO TWO MAXES?!?! ONE WAS ENOUGH...sometimes MORE THAN ENOUGH. This is just really mean and so was forcing me to look at that HIDEOUS beard! I just....I really can’t handle it. HAHAHA! What drugs were they on when they wrote this?! Also...NONE OF THIS ANSWERS ANY QUESTION AT ALL!!!!!!!!!

- Let’s see...what else...

- I’m glad Jenna and Charlie FINALLY had a scene together because when Jenna first said that Charlie had disappeared again, I got so mad because it was just inexplicably dumb. So I’m glad they got to see each other.

- I’m glad Rosa is going back to rehab and that she both got to tell her mother that she loved her and tell her to stay the fuck away.

- I’m just laughing at the fact that for like one episode Helena was suddenly the big bad or at least a main antagonist or at least some kind of main player for the season and then just as quickly was COMPLETELY IRRELEVANT and is probably just going to leave now?!??! WHY?!?!?!?

- Can Isobel please get something legit to do next season that doesn’t just involve her going into people’s heads without asking and maybe involves her getting a love interest of her own? Please?! I mean...I’m glad she got learn about her mother this season but also I feel like she didn’t do much and I think she deserves more than that.

- I guess I’m glad Maria is embracing her alien side and trying to be true to herself or whatever but also....she was literally just in this episode to “not be dead”, to give Michael a plot box and to break up with him so she’s no longer a shipping obstacle. And then we never saw her again the rest of the episode. I really sincerely hope they do more with her next season in a way that actually serves her as a character because this season did not do her many favors. I’m glad she finally knows about the aliens and they delved into her own alien identity but I hope she really gets to do something with that next season and not just exist to save everyone else at the end with no thanks for it. I mean literally no one was on screen visiting her except Michael just so she could give him a box and break up with him. Liz and Max were literally at the hospital. But no...Liz had to see irrelevant Steph so she could save her for some unknown reason. Sigh....Not even her cool aunt Isobel came to see her.

- I don’t even know what else to say. I’m still laughing. I still feel like I know LITERALLY NOTHING about what was going on this season. I had hopes for this season at the end of season one but honestly I have zero hopes for season three because I’m sure it will be a clusterfuck but an even weirder clusterfuck than normal cause everyone will be standing eight feet apart. Maybe that will make them tell a tighter story and not try and shove 75 different plots into 13 episodes??? Probably not. I’m sure it’ll still be batshit crazy and make no sense at all. I’m gonna treat the show as a comedy from now on.

- Well...it’s been fun all. Thanks to anyone who made it through this whole nonsense post. You deserve a prize. Maybe a plot box or a skeleton under a floorboard or a journal telling you your relatives’ love was cosmic too.

#roswell new mexico #roswell reveiws #roswell nm #rnm #this was very long as predicted #I am sure I will still think of more things later

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plaidshirtjimkirk · 4 years ago

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sorry, everyone. this is totally off topic in terms of trek, but since i rejoined this fandom to write and spent a lot of my time......uh, suffering over words/complaining about that here...i just wanna talk about what i did in september. it gets a little personal but i don’t mind sharing.

tl;dr: i did a writing challenge that proved i *could* write on a regular basis since my adhd diagnosis, but bad self esteem killed the good vibes. i proved it could be done however so... stfu, brain.

on the last day of august, an awesome friend of mine posted a month-long writing challenge. the minimum we were supposed to shoot for was 500, i believe, but she said she’d aim for at least 150. she absolutely smashed her goal. i didn’t even have a goal and yet.....i wrote 63k in one month. i didn’t miss a single day. sometimes, i wrote over 5k.

me @ me: who the fuck are you my brain: this is you with your adhd treated, asshole me: OH SHIT!!1 RIGHT. NICE.

the wc was rounded down to the nearest hundred to keep things neat, and the avg word count per day based on that was 2.1k.

all of these stories except for 3 are about oc otps/ot3s. topics range from fluff to angst (ken, my oc, met his demise and i’m not even sorry) to just full out pwp. proposals, fights, breakups, fluff fests, ken getting told off when he deserves it...every day was something new.

i posted all of them in docs and shared with my friends who made these characters.

naturally, you can treat your attention and focus issues but that won’t stop bad self esteem from ruining your day plenty of times. day 7 was rough. i was feeling depressed and like everything i write is irrelevant and futile. (it kinda is but i’m more accepting about it rn and not as emotional.) i almost gave up on day 12 but i refused to let such low hanging fluff fruit like “blanket” be my demise. ups and downs, ups and downs....and then day 25 was awful. i hit 51k that evening and fell into a major depressive episode. who gets depressed over writing 51k? me, i guess. it was just...y’know, writing all these stories and tossing them into the black hole of docs for a few people to read if they please....and then to never be seen again. i started second guessing everything and sounding like the old, pre-diagnosis me where everything is horrible and i’m worthless and i can’t write for shit and blah blah blah. but day 26 was better, and i finished out the month feeling stronger.

30 days of writing is hell and i really would not like to do this again. but i did it to prove a point to myself. i can actually get things done. i still struggle with concentration sometimes, especially in the afternoon, but evenings work best of all for me to sit down and get words out.

i still feel shitty that all i’m apparently capable of writing is one-shots. there’s nothing at all wrong with one-shots, don’t get me wrong, but they’re what i write most of all. that’s really...still the capacity of what i can handle. i can’t write long things without having a day 25 every day. or maybe i can and i just haven’t tried since being on medicine? idk. maybe someday i’ll figure it out? (*paths in the starlight looms threateningly overhead* go away, you 90k wip monster from hell.)

anyway, i feel lucky because i got a diagnosis that helped me see actual progress. i’m sorry i haven’t produced anything for this fandom. the husbands aren’t speaking to me, but i just wanted to kinda document what i went through.

the things i learned were: a) month long challenges are fucking HARD but not impossible. b) writing that much in a month should feel like a great accomplishment because i worked so hard, but self esteem issues and blah blah i hate my writing, etc. my brain ruins everything. c) it helped having multiple characters and relationships to be inspired by. i’ve attempted several otp challenges in the past and failed every single time. d) i’m damaged goods. i appreciate any and all feedback so much, but because of a past abusive relationship, i have a hard time accepting praise. i don’t think anyone is lying to me. i just think i suck. lmao there’s no way to sugarcoat it, that’s the truth. but just writing and throwing nearly an entire novel length into the void made me wonder what i was even doing. so, while i have trouble accepting compliments and have always always always appreciated feedback, i appreciate it even more now.

#uss enterplaid #just plaid shirt things #the struggle is real #not trek #long post

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candyshua · 5 years ago

Text

It’s a Long Way Home | Chapter 2

Pairing: Joshua x Minghao x Reader

Synopsis: It was dark, and then it was light. You’re finally lucid. After 15 years of not being conscious, you wake up in a desolate and post-apocalyptic earth where infected flesh-eating beings roam the streets. Soon enveloped into a mysterious group of survivors, you consistently wonder who they are. But most importantly, who are you?

Genre: Heavy angst, some fluff here and there

Warnings: Gore, bad language, physical & verbal abuse

Word Count: 2.5k

"Who are you, Y/N?" The stoic man asked you. He had a porcelain complex to him. His cheekbones were high and defined, with slick black hair that was gelled back. He wore a white lab coat, and his hands were folded on the table as his icy blue eyes bore into you like a snake staring at its prey. The question you had been asked was supposed to be responded with an automatic answer, and you knew better than to try and rebel. You were coaxed into being what they wanted you to be, so you reluctantly spat the words,

"I am Y/N, patient zero, and your loyal subordinate." You boomed emptily, the repeated and hollow words falling from your chapped lips like poison. You looked into the man's eyes again, wanting to test him. At this point, you had nothing to lose.

"Good, now back to sleep." The Doctor ordered, and suddenly everything went black.

The pain was horrendous. The overwhelming force ripped you from the depths of reality, into another painful dimension. Minghao was holding you desperately, constantly asking if you were okay. You didn't know if you could open your eyes, for the ringing in your pain ridden head was too great. Your heavy breathing soon slowed within a few minutes, while Minghao continued to hold you frantically.

You forced your eyes to open, and Minghao's deep brown ones looked at you in a concerned manner. You hadn't been greeted with these irises before, only the cold sarcastic ones, but these orbs were filled with worry. "I'm okay." You managed to mumble, unclasping yourself from his hold while forcing yourself to stand up. Suddenly, the realization of what just happened hit you.

You had remembered something.

The situation seemed somewhat familiar to the one you were in now, being asked questions by a man that demeaned you.

"What the fuck happened?" Minghao asked worriedly, and now it was your turn to laugh.

"Still don't believe me?" You daunted cockily, tilting your head to the side with a smug smirk etched on to your lips.

You were forced to go to the community's "clinic" to get checked up on. Their doctor was a young med student, who managed to flee the city when the outbreak first started. He went by the name of Seungkwan, and he was a very sweet and nervous young man.

You had found out that the community you were currently residing in was named "Fort Lockwood". The name came from the street the community was, a mere one way road with a decent amount of houses on both sides. You had also learned that Minghao wasn't the leader, but he was high in command. The leader was Joshua, who appointed several other people to be in charge of certain things. He was just in charge of making sure everything was in shape, that his citizens were safe, and he dealt with the serious problems along with the other leaders. Minghao was in charge of the weaponry, and he trained new citizens on how to fight, use a gun, knife, etc.

You learned that the short-tempered Junhui was in charge of gathering supplies, and often went on escapades for a few days by himself just to come back with a van full of goodies. Hansol, the soft boy you took an immediate liking to, was in charge of defense, and making sure the walls were maintained regularly and that "the infected" were led away from their base.

Seungkwan was in charge of medicine, and the health of the citizens. You kind of scoffed at the mention of how many men were in power, until you heard about Margo and Cleo. Margo was a teacher, in charge of educating the youth of Fort Lockwood. Cleo was apparently "a complete technology wiz" and got the power working in the community again. So, she was in charge of that, along with trying to communicate with the army through the radios she miraculously fixed and walkie-talkies.

Another woman whom you had yet to meet by the name of Sonny was a botanist. She was in charge of the gardens and growing enough food to feed their small community. About five hundred people lived in Fort Lockwood, some families living by themselves, and other people camping together in houses. It was a lot to take in, especially with your limited experience, so you were left to relax in Joshua, Minghao, Junhui, and Seungkwan's house until you were further situated into a better living situation. You pondered the thought of escaping, but the possibilities of you doing so successfully were quite slim.

Not only that, the community was nice. People worked together to help rebuild what was lost, and you appreciated that. You appreciated their will, and their determination. Although you didn't know yourself well enough yet, you knew that you lacked hope for some reason.

Then you found yourself thinking about the man with the icy blue eyes, and the memory that had transpired. You knew it happened, there was a certain clarity in the situation that you relived which led you to believe that it was pure and real. You sighed, the detrimental day kicking in, and soon you felt like you wanted to cry. Humans cry after under a lot of stress, right?

But, your agony was no match to your stubborn side. You refused to let the tears fall, for they symbolized vulnerability. You don't know why you thought that, you just did. And, to put it simply, you were fucking confused. Waking up in a post-apocalyptic world can take quite a toll on somebody, nonetheless somebody with no memories before what had just happened.

So, you just sat on the mattress splattered on the floor of the cold attic you were staying in. You assumed autumn was here, the season fresh and ripe. You then decided to look through your bag, which was stripped of its gun, but nothing else. You had some clothes in there which looked like they'd fit you, along with a lighter, some rope, matches, ammunition, a water bottle, and a blanket. As you got to know yourself throughout the day, you figured out that you were actually quite intelligent, but just kept in the dark. So, the bag filled with all the supplies a girl like you could need was somewhat baffling, which only added to the list of questions you couldn't answer.

You soon heard a knock creaks in the wooden stairs that led up to the attic, which led to a knock on your door. You came face to face with Joshua, the leader of the grand scheme. "Hello." He said somewhat sweetly. His voice was soft, and it contrasted with his rugged looking figure. He had blackish brown hair that fell down his forehead, with his ears poking out slightly. His angled brown eyes were kind of distant, but sage. He was skinny, ragged, yet muscular - similar to Minghao in that sense. He wore a black jacket and brown cargo pants, with an old pair of brown boots aged with experience. His eyebrows were slanted naturally, which gave an intimidating vibe. If you were different, you would've considered yourself intimidated.

But his soft voice contrasted with his scary exterior. His voice was something you could almost drown in, it was rich and thick like honey, but smooth and intoxicating. "Hi." You muttered, returning the intense eye contact he displayed to you.

"Minghao told me what happened...I may seem like an asshole, forcing you to stay here-"

"You don't seem like one - you are one. But continue." You interrupted ripely, your feisty attitude kicking in. Instead of getting pissed, he gave you a lopsided smile which oozed with something you'd consider respect.

"Anyway, I hope you know it's just for the safety of my people. You see, many people want to be a part of our community, or they want to destroy it. But, our location is quite hidden if you haven't noticed, it's a street many miles away from the city, in a town that used to be a peaceful suburb. But, I believe that you're alone and that you have no group. But, I want you to stay here: where it's the closest thing to safe in this world." Joshua explained, inching his way closer to you, which resulted in him sitting on the wooden floor of the dusty attic, directly across from you.

"But why?"

"Because, Y/N, you saved our lives. Usually, lone survivors would let us die as a distraction for the infected, so they could get away safely. What you did was not normal, but highly appreciated. I'm sorry that not everybody showed their gratitude, but they were still processing what had just happened. They're much calmer and more thankful now." Joshua had rasped, and you listened intently.

"Thank you for your kindness. I know my explanation seems like a complete lie, but I promise you it's not. The truth is, when I passed out when talking to Minghao, I believe a memory had came to me. And, that memory scared me." You huffed, finding it odd that you were admitting your fear to a man that you barely knew. "I also take back the thing about you being an asshole, you're actually quite nice." You had joked hoping to lighten the mood.

"I assumed so. But, can you tell me about the memory?" Joshua had requested, a sliver of a smile creeping onto his face.

"I was talking to a man, he looked like a doctor. He asked me a question, and I knew what to say. I had told him I was his subordinate, and that I was 'Patient Zero'. I think I was much younger than I am now in that memory, but he said something along the lines of 'Go back to sleep', and everything went blank. Then, I woke up." You lamented confusedly, your head fuzzy and tired.

"There are many things in this world that we cannot explain, but I will give you the benefit of the doubt and trust you, Y/N. Please don't break my trust." Joshua said, his last sentence more longing and desperate than intimidating. You nodded automatically, under his hypnotizing gaze. Soon, he led you downstairs to dinner, where you were face to face with some familiar faces.

The atmosphere was quiet when you walked into the kitchen, where Seungkwan, Minghao, and Junhui were sitting. They were eating what looked like steak, until you realized that it was deer.

You ate it ravenously. You didn't realize how empty your stomach was until you smelled the food, and you downed it within minutes. Minghao was amused at this, and Joshua merely smiled. Hell, even Junhui scoffed a bit.

Soon, everybody laughed, which lightened the mood severely. Then, you were being assaulted with various questions from everybody.

"Where'd you learn how to fight like that?" Junhui had asked, and you merely shrugged. You also had extensive knowledge in the field of medicine, the useful information placed in your head mysteriously.

"I'm better." Minghao deadpanned, and you just scoffed and rolled your eyes.

The conversation drifted on until you revealed the information that you didn't know how to wield a gun. That was Minghao's area of expertise, so you were going to be picked up by Minghao tomorrow, where he'd take you out of Fort Lockwood and teach you how to use one.

Soon, you were the one asking questions. You acquired the information that nobody knew exactly how the outbreak started, but a state of emergency was declared within 3 days, and civilization was reversed back to its old ways within a week. And then the military disappeared after six weeks, and the world truly "went to shit" according to Minghao. The "infected" went by many names, such as "stragglers", "walkers", and "lurkers". You preferred calling them infected.

Soon, dinner was finished, and you decided to take a walk around the fort to take in your surroundings. While you were just about to walk out the door, Joshua stopped you. "I'll join you." He cheekily said, and you smiled weakly.

Joshua showed you around the community, giving you an excellent and lighthearted tour. You let yourself soak in the lightness of your conversations, knowing that your upcoming days were to be filled with nothing but heavy dread. You grew quite fond of Joshua, or Josh (he preferred that nickname) and hoped that you wouldn't break his trust, either.

The next morning you awoke at dawn, and you assumed it was six am by the positioning of the sun (another thing you had no idea where you learned it from). You were supplied with clothes and shoes, so you changed into a somewhat heavy slick, gray jacket along with camouflaged pants. You slipped on black leather combat boots and tied your hair up in a low ponytail, due to its shortness.

All the women you had come across had short hair as well, and you assumed it was merely safer to have it. You went downstairs, and everybody was already up making breakfast. You smelled eggs.

"Where did you get eggs from?" You exclaimed, kind of excited over some stupid eggs.

"We have a farm, it's small but it gets the job done." Seungkwan humbly explained, and you nodded and took your eggs gratefully. Minghao ate next to you, going on about the danger of guns. You nodded, trying to soak in the information being rapidly spewed at you.

Soon, you were in a car with Minghao, the vehicle being supplied with various forms of guns, from rifles to pistols. Minghao drove out of Fort Lockwood, and to a very desert land of grass of the highway. It was surrounded by woods, which irked you slightly. You didn't like how anybody could be hiding in those woods, but Minghao insisted that nobody was, and you had no choice but to believe him.

Soon, you were given a breakdown on guns, how to hold them, when to shoot, how to aim, and how to disarm somebody. "I don't want you to be scared of these things. They can end your life, but they can also save it." He had prospered, in which you gulped eagerly.

To put it simply, you were a fast learner. Your aim was impeccable due to your perfect eyesight, but you were not fond of the loudness that boomed from the guns. "Can't the infected hear this?" You asked.

"They can, but we'll be out of here before they can arrive. Plus, we have silencers if it gets out of hand." He explained, and you found yourself not wanting to know what "getting out of hand" meant.

You couldn't disarm Minghao, merely because he flourished in this area, but he had struggled trying to disarm you. You had noticed that Minghao's once playful attitude was replaced with a firm, dominant one when he was teaching you. He commanded respect, and you gave it.

"I think we're done for the day. The infected will be here soon, so let's get back home." Minghao had ordered, and you hopped in the car reviewing every bit of information you had just learned.

After driving for a bit, you two came to a halt when a series of cars blocked the road. Men with guns stood smugly there, and you soon realized that the infected weren't going to be your problem.

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zen-garden-gnome · 5 years ago

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REALLY investigating the debate over vaccines (from a lay-person’s perspective).

I want to unravel some things about the vaccination debate, following days of research into the matter. It wasn’t enough for me to know how I felt, already. I didn’t think my personal relationships had to suffer maximally in order for me to live honestly. So I decided to dig in and make myself more knowledgeable, and to let myself empathize with more people. There was so much to cipher through and it took so much time that I had to take notes to help keep things connected. The process reminded me that the internet is not as easily traversed for all its users, and that in the end, the “vibe” one picks up decides a lot of what we’re willing to follow any deeper (particularly, whether or not we even notice a “vibe” in the first place). Zooming way out also reminded me of just how many “entry points” there are for this subject, and helped me empathize with a lot of people. It turns out, “anti-vaxxer” is a term applied to people across a pretty wide range of subtly differing perspectives. I think we can all agree that the despair and disgust and distrust the world is experiencing won’t improve if we can’t get our attention back, ‘cause that’s largely what this is about. We are inundated with so much manipulative information that we struggle to steer our attention toward the core values that we mostly share, which takes us further and further away from each other’s realities. We know less and less about each other but think we know so much more because we’re surrounded by manipulative/self-preserving chatter.

I wanted to cut through the noise and show where some things connect, and where some others only appear to. For anyone who knows there’s a lot going on but doesn’t know where to begin approaching it. For anyone who feels on the fence in any way. For anyone who feels isolated by their view of the circumstances. For anyone who struggles to understand why so-and-so would think such-and-such. For anyone who thinks they already know. For anyone with even a passing curiosity. And of course, for myself. I’ve worked to collect and organize this for all and anyone. I do my best to stay objective without pretending I don’t have my own opinions. My research wound up focusing on a few key people and their research, the theories that have arisen, the science used to address them, and the demographics who are the most moved by it all. This is an entire research paper and I had no idea it would go this far when I started.

Judy Mikovits is a former medical researcher and current anti-vaccination advocate. She has some valid criticisms of how the US government handled the release of treatments for HIV and for the poor ways people treat their immune systems. She claims in her book (and in a viral video that recently hit the internet at the kick-off of the COVID-19 pandemic in the US) that Anthony Fauci barred her from continuing her research at the National Institute of Health (he denies this). She refers to the COVID-19 pandemic in quotes ("pandemic"), refuses to wear face masks, and discourages others from doing so because she thinks that taking care of one’s own immune system and cleanliness is all she should need to do, by her own words. Vaccines (and just temporarily breathing in more of one’s own carbon dioxide) aren’t worth the risk, she says. Mikovits has spoken at numerous anti-vaccination events and her retracted papers are frequently referenced in their propaganda (and there’s no denying it’s propaganda).

When she was a virologist and medical researcher, Judy started working to uncover viral causes of diseases when she was hired by a couple whose child had Chronic Fatigue Syndrome and wanted to find the cause. The work she published in Science magazine about proposed retro-viral causes of CFS in 2009 was retracted when peers from 9 separate labs failed to get the same results and negated her findings (and when two of her co-authors reported that their patient samples had been contaminated by the virus in the lab, as opposed to the virus already being in the samples). Two years later she was fired from her job over the quality of her work and control of her lab samples, which seems relevant considering the apparent reason why her 2009 results were supposedly wrong. She was arrested and tried for stealing lab equipment and documentation when she left. She returned some of the lab notes and the criminal charges were dismissed.

Judy continues to reference her outdated research to this day (the research about specific retroviruses causing some specific diseases). Now she’s using her debunked data to fire up her main argument: that up to 30% of modern vaccines are “contaminated” with retroviruses and the government is trying to cover up a dangerous problem with its vaccines, putting everyone at risk (especially young children who get a large host of vaccines in a relatively short period of time).

This was where I knew I had to learn more about how viruses and vaccines interact with our bodies. A retrovirus is commonly called an RNA virus, which is a virus that uses a host cell to replicate its viral RNA as DNA. This is the opposite of what DNA viruses do, which is to use the host cell to replicate their DNA as RNA. An RNA/retro-virus also has a type of enzyme that allows it to insert its new DNA into the host cell’s DNA. This altered genetic information can lead to increased erroneous cell production, which increases the likelihood of developing cancer and other diseases depending on where the viral DNA is injected into a host cell’s DNA. Whatever gene is changed may cease to function, leading to disease. For example, HIV is a retrovirus that results in a syndrome that makes one prone to all kinds of diseases.

As it turns out, some vaccines do contain retroviruses! And it also turns out that that’s ok. Sometimes that’s part of the genetic material virologists are working with. Some of our vaccines are only possible with that genetic material. The presence of a retrovirus doesn’t necessary do anything to the vaccine. The vaccinations don’t infect patients with retroviruses because the retroviruses found in the vaccine are non-infectious. It’s an extremely important part of how a good vaccine functions. Viruses can cause diseases, but vaccines don’t contain live infectious material. That’s why there were no reported issues with retroviral infection by our vaccine safety systems (systems that exist because vaccines have never been perfect and always have some potential for side effects, so their risk factors are studied thoroughly). When the technology was available to investigate the retroviruses previously unknown to have existed in the MMR vaccine, they were confirmed to be non-hazardous.

Mikovits is clearly a knowledgeable professional in her field and has some valid opinions/points about health, medicine, and federal failures. But her identity seems to be wrapped up with the debunked research that changed her career, and no professional knows everything, even in their field. The wrongness isn’t my concern. It’s what she’s doing with it, and the fact that she’s ignoring the research negating her old findings.

Kent Heckenlively is the co-author of Judy's new book, and an anti-vaccination activist. The fact that he's also a lawyer really stands out to me. The founders of the Westboro Baptist Church (the "God Hates F*gs" group) are ex-lawyers who use their offensive protests to rile people up and then sue them for "hindering their rights." It's how they make their money. Anyway, Kent is co-founder of a group called Age of Autism, which claims to be dedicated to helping kids and families with autism. But as you can probably tell by the name of the group, they're much more concerned with the fact that they perceive a dangerous uptick in autism statistics (an issue that’s related much more to the evolving access and categorization of statistics and disorders than anything else). Age of Autism doesn’t actually tend to involve people on the autism spectrum in their work (other than to use them as examples), and their focus is not on helping (or even understanding) those with autism, but on getting rid of autism--as if the spectrum of conditions related to autism was a single “disease,” and as if it’s unacceptable that people exist with those conditions (more on that later).

As autism has increasingly become a recognized "condition," it's diagnosis has become more common, and because it's really only diagnosed based on social behavior, it may go unnoticed prior to ~18 months, if it’s noticed at all. Many more people live "on the spectrum" than we ever know (did you know Sir Anthony Hopkins is also on the spectrum?), and before it was more widely recognized, we had all kinds of names (and institutions) for people living with more severe effects. Kent's daughter was diagnosed with autism at around the age that she got some of her vaccines, which led the distraught father to believe it was vaccine related. Sometimes people do have mild reactions to vaccines (nothing’s perfect), and I can understand parents being scared and hurt for their children. I can also understand questioning various authorities. We know good and well that governments use poisons (Agent Orange in Vietnam), diseases (smallpox in the colonies, syphilis at Tuskegee), and vaccines as playing cards in their efforts to control people/power (we saw it again when Trump tried to get exclusive rights to the Coronavirus vaccine being researched in Germany). But lots of people see “Thing 1 Happens, Thing 2 Happens After, Which Must Mean Thing 1 Caused Thing 2.” Unsurprisingly, people can develop identities that revolve around getting rid of the "disease" of autism.

But Autism is not a disease. Autism is an umbrella term for a range of neuro divergences (to be diagnosed you have to hit like... 4 out of a possible 15 some-odd behavioral checkmarks), and issues like those relate to aaaallll sorts of things. Things that people with autism talk about often. If anti-vaccination organizations actually advocated for people with autism, they’d let people with autism advocate for themselves. Because people with autism do self-advocate, and they take umbrage with groups like Autism Speaks and Age of Autism. People on the autism spectrum often have lots to say about the agendas of these groups and the resources that are taken from the those who actually need them. From the Autistic Self Advocacy Network: “While no link exists between autism and vaccines, of greater concern is the willingness of those who promote this theory to suggest that exposing children to deadly diseases would be a better outcome than an autistic child. Vaccinations do not cause autism – but the use of autism as a means of scaring parents from safeguarding their children from life-threatening illness demonstrates the depths of prejudice and fear that still surrounds our disability. Autism is not caused by vaccines – and Autistic Americans deserve better than a political rhetoric that suggests that we would be better off dead than disabled.”

Folks on the spectrum sometimes have lots to say about the toxic living conditions of their childhoods, too. About neglect and abuse and trauma. It’s important to keep in mind that the behavioral issues tied to autism are also the behavioral conditions often tied to things like PTSD and ADHD, both of which relate to life events/patterns. As a teacher, I’ve learned a lot about the links between developmental/behavioral problems and the (dis)ability of parents to respond to their children based on their children’s needs (rather than primarily on the parent’s own traumas). For young children, especially with any kind of special need (a very broad term), simply navigating through a world that’s inflexible with their needs can be traumatic. Our environmental conditions can even effect how our genes are expressed over time (literally, sometimes time IS the trigger for gene expression). Everything is born out of its environment—out of our food, our water, our sense of security, our parents’ genes, everything.

Which brings me to one of the biggest stories in the vaccination debate: that of Hannah Poling. I bring this up because this is the one I was most familiar with, and the one I empathized with the most--particularly because there was a court case related to it. When she was 19 months old, she received 5 vaccines, and two days later her parents reported new behavior—lethargy, irritation, and fever. Months later, she was diagnosed with mitochondrial enzyme deficit (MED), which means the conditions she displayed were also contained within the autism spectrum. Her parents successfully sued for compensation under the Vaccine Injury Compensation Plan, a program started by the federal government to address public concerns of vaccine safety in light of the noise raised by anti-vaccination groups in the 80s. However, MED is an autosomal recessive disease, which means both of Hannah’s parents had to carry the gene in order for her to get it. She already had it, and either it hadn’t expressed itself yet, or her parents hadn’t noticed (or reported) the symptoms so early in her development. Indeed, the Poling case only claimed that her vaccines exacerbated her symptoms, but this raises 4 important points: 1) There’s no evidence that this is possible, and not because “no one’s looked.” 2) We should really think critically about whether or not we should withhold treatment for diseases like smallbox and whooping cough under the unfounded notion that some vaccines may exacerbate existing conditions, 3) under-reported is the fact that Hannah presented other immunological challenges prior to her vaccinations, and 4) despite a popular claim made by anti-vaccination groups, there’s actually no evidence that multiple simultaneous vaccines can overwhelm an immune system.

That last one was really important to me, because I had read years ago that a child’s immune system was potentially too underdeveloped to handle so many vaccinations. The notion seemed logical enough, and I felt awful for parents who had these real fears. But it turns out, the immune system of an infant has the potential capacity to respond to thousands of vaccines simultaneously. It has to! Babies are RAW, lol. And it turns out, medical researchers can be pretty damn thorough, so they knew this well before they were delivering grouped vaccines to toddlers. And while the number of vaccines given to children has increased, they contain even fewer antigens than they used to thanks to medical improvements.

But I have another name. Andrew Wakefield was stripped of his medical license in Britain and came to America, where he became a prominent anti-vaccination activist. He published findings in Britain in the mid 90s that claimed that measles (and “therefore” its vaccine) caused Crohn's disease, but peer research failed to repeat his findings and his claims were subsequently debunked. After shifting his focus to the measles vaccine and autism, he wound up leaving the school of medicine where he worked (under “mutual agreement” at the school's request), because he repeatedly refused to re-attempt the research which had formed the basis of his initial claims. Andrew moved to America to continue pushing his theory that measles and its vaccine caused autism, despite already admitting that it was "not proved." He's barred from practicing medicine in the UK and is not licensed in the US.

I bring up Wakefield because the fuss he raised lead scientists and doctors to look into these claims. It makes sense for these potential issues to matter to the medical community, after all. All resulting work refuted any connections between autism and these vaccines. Luckily, this work also looked into some other claims about vaccines, too, such as the concern that mercury in vaccines could cause autism or other conditions. Ethylmercury is used in the preservative thimerosal, which prevents bacterial growth in vaccines. Methylmercury (the mercury found in fish) can be highly toxic to people, while ethylmercury clears more quickly from the body--so quickly that the small quantities used in vaccines don't have time to build up or cause any problems, other than the possibility of a red rash at the injection site (and the fact that, inevitably, some people are allergic to it). However, given the rising concern in the late 90's and gradual improvements in medical science, the use of ethylmercury in vaccines was reduced in 2001, and for childhood vaccines was completely eliminated. Despite this, it remains a popular concern.

There are so many other people and cases and theories, but these seemed to be the big ones.

...But there’s one more variable I need to dissect: The general focus on eradicating autism, as opposed to supporting the autistic. Parents and their supporters are trying to find the right thing to do. It’s their earnest desire to overcome the problems they’ve been led to see, and their energy is being funneled away from them and used against all our best interests. (Perhaps it’s worth considering, too, where everyone else’s energy is being funneled these days…) For me, this is the variable that’s hardest to talk about, because it asks people to look at their own shadows with acceptance and forgiveness.

The development/behaviors of people on the spectrum aren’t necessarily “wrong,” but we’re subtly and explicitly told to see them this way. Many of these behaviors/developments are very natural responses to toxic/inhumane social and environmental conditions and expectations (some of them are even specifically considered evolutionary pros, traits that help people survive these environs), albeit at times difficult to interact with and other times self-destructive. Everything has extremes. And between environments and genetics, parents aren’t always able to recognize the myriad little things that might contribute to developmental and/or behavioral issues. Since so many of these things lie on the autistic spectrum, “autism” becomes a target in and of itself. Parents may see their children as victims of a toxic world, and they may see themselves as strong shoulders under (secretly) unwanted circumstances. Many parents also feel that “no good parent would ever feel that way, so I don’t either.” This kind of inner conflict is incredibly difficult for people to deal with, but the truth is, conflicting thoughts and emotions are perfectly normal. Emotions are valid and thoughts don’t define us. Both are fleeting. Feeling like we’re not “allowed” to feel conflicted makes us feel guilty/bitter/both. (Tested by God” and “blessed by God” have the same ring, sometimes.)

Some parents also experience guilt/bitterness over the possibility of being part of the environmental/genetic (especially genetic) circumstances that contributed to a child’s disorders. Or, guilt over having been unable to bring them into an accepting or supportive society. Plus the guilt over being sometimes unhappy with the resulting circumstances of one’s life. Guilt. Frustration. Bitterness. Sour grapes. Saving someone else from this “burden” and future children from sharing in this “unacceptable” situation becomes a righteous cause. Furthermore, in finding the person/thing to blame, they’d finally be allowed to express all that despair and frustration. The emotional attachment and roiling undercurrent is very attractive to manipulative individuals. I see it happen a lot, and I see people with autism talking about it. My heart truly aches for everyone going through this. But none of this helps the person on the spectrum. Nor does it help the well-meaning parent.

Maybe parents and supporters wouldn’t be so desperate about and fearful of autism (and vaccines) if having a child with special needs wasn’t so isolating. Maybe if our communities, institutions, and organizations focused on empowering and supporting the vulnerable, on creating equity where ever possible, autism wouldn’t be so overwhelming and wouldn’t even be as common. Maybe if we responded to people on the autism spectrum (and everyone else) as they are, instead of how we want/expect them to be, then the whole situation would change entirely.

In my research and personal interactions, the common thread among those who question the overall value and trustworthiness of vaccines is that of a “dark world” full of “bad people.” Things are so dark, apparently, that the global medical and scientific community is less trustworthy than the few who disagree with it on this particular issue. Is it any wonder? Our culture is exploitative and manipulative, and lays out a set of requirements for human value that even the neurotypical struggle to meet. We all hurt! We’re all wary! And of course we are!

But it turns out, much of the darkness we see in the world relates to what we’re looking for (or at the very least, what we’re trained to look for). In an age of endless, algorithmically-driven “information,” it’s very difficult for many folks to navigate, discern, and prioritize--especially when it’s a personal issue, making it easy to exploit our emotions. The machine keeps us fearful and hungry and separate, but perhaps we shouldn’t despair over that. After all, the active effort to keep us fearful and separate reflects our underlying nature to work together, to connect, and to grow.

Researching all this was complicated. Lots dead-ends, seemingly believable stories from once-trusted professionals, self-referential content, emotionally manipulative content, questionable authorities (authority is always questionable), and a shit-ton of complicated medical research. This is the amount of research it took for me to pick through everything. It’s no joke.

And that brings me back to the present. To the stuff happening right now. Areas surrounding anti-vaccination communities are seeing a drastic rise in diseases that had been long gone before the anti-vaccination craze. Not everyone is equally susceptible to pathogens, and our willingness to receive imperfect but well-researched vaccines is about everyone else in all communities, not just ourselves. No matter what anyone chooses to believe about the “source” of COVID-19, it’s disabling and deadly and highly contagious, and just because it may not be highly visible in someone’s community doesn’t mean it’s not ravaging other communities. As for uncertainty over the Coronavirus being “real,” if a person is only willing to believe resources calling for them to be angry and afraid and suspicious of everyone else, it seems to me that one would have to investigate their own worldview, along with one’s view of themselves and their own shadows. If one sees the world as inherently bad and humans as inherently fucked, that relates to how one feels about oneself and an incomplete notion of the lives of other people. That is the perspective of a traumatized person. Self isolation is deadly, so we ought to be wary of things that seek to isolate us. These self-isolating notions are fed back to us by the algorithms guiding our internet activity, keeping our behaviors predictable and controllable. We keep clicking and returning, fed by a sense of tragic righteousness, by the same programs designed to keep people coming back to slot machines. The internet is not a neutral entity because it functions in a capitalist, undemocratic state. It must be used carefully. The book Team Human��by Douglas Rushkoff highlights the nature of these algorithms and the systems which use them. But more importantly, it also highlights the things about humans that make us lovable and forgivable. The things that make it possible to manipulate us in the first place. There’s a lot of wild shit going on, but it’s not happening because “humans are bad.” It’s happening because we live in an age forcibly ruled by the most self destructive culture/ideology on the planet. It’s the ideas, not the species. That means we have work to do. Inner work.

Sources:

https://speakingofresearch.com/2019/04/24/celebrating-world-vaccination-week-pt-3-the-post-wakefield-fallout/

https://www.pennlive.com/nation-world/2020/05/who-is-judy-mikovits-and-what-does-she-have-to-do-with-anthony-fauci-and-the-coronavirus.html

https://vaxopedia.org/2018/12/29/are-vaccines-contaminated-with-retroviruses/

https://www.nejm.org/doi/full/10.1056/nejmp0802904

https://autisticadvocacy.org/2015/09/asan-statement-on-gop-primary-debate-comments-on-autism-and-vaccination/

https://autisticadvocacy.org/wp-content/uploads/2017/07/First-Hand-Perspectives-on-Behavioral-Interventions-for-Autistic-People-and-People-with-other-Developmental-Disabilities.pdf

https://sciencing.com/differentiating-rna-dna-viruses-4853.html

https://www.motherjones.com/politics/2020/03/a-fake-pandemic-antivaxxers-are-spreading-coronavirus-conspiracy-theories/

https://www.thechildren.com/health-info/conditions-and-illnesses/q-vaccine-safer-getting-real-disease

Also so much Wikipedia.

#health #vaccines #empathy #autism #virus #society #zgg

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mst3kproject · 5 years ago

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403: City Limits

I only have one story about this movie and that’s how a while back I had a dream in which Kim Cattrall and Jennifer Connolly were trying to escape from an evil toy factory owned by Nicholas Cage, and in the dream I was thinking wow, City Limits is different than I remember. Moving on.

In the non-dream version of the movie, a plague has killed off all the adults except James Earl Jones – I must admit, if you have to keep one he’s a pretty good choice. He adopts some bland kid named Lee, who grows up, puts on a Cubone costume, and heads off into the ruins of Los Angeles to find other badly-dressed, motorcycle-riding survivors like him. If he had any sense, he’d have stayed in the middle of nowhere with Horse Girl, since the first bunch he meets try to arrest him and the second just aren’t impressed by his resume. Lee ends up killing some guy named Dirty Bob, so the various motorcycle gangs that now rule the world decide to subject him to trial by combat, based on something they read in a comic book. Somehow this results in smashing a couple of dinosaur skeletons and uniting the gangs to take on the federally authorized Sunia Corporation, who shoot anybody who doesn’t want to work for them. What the hell happened to Horse Girl?

Yeah, I have a lot of trouble following what is going on in this movie. Most of it takes place in poorly-lit darkness, the characters all look alike and dress like piles of laundry, and nothing anybody does is properly motivated. There’s something almost Ed-Wood-ian about the way scenes in City Limits refuse to add up to a narrative. Reaction shots get dropped in with no explanation of why characters are reacting the way they are, and there’s some bits, like the Beer Santa or what Yogi sees out the window, that I honestly can’t tell whether they’re flashbacks or not. It’s a good thing the narrating voice of James Earl Jones shows up from time to time to tell us what people are doing, or else I would have no idea.

What does the Sunia company want? They say they want to provide electricity and food for the world, and if this is just a front for something evil we never hear about it. Shooting people who won’t work for them is pretty evil, but if there’s a larger Evil Plan at work I couldn’t tell. What do the Clippers and the DA’s want? They might have had some kind of system of their own at work before Sunia showed up but all we hear about is the truce between the two. What was Lee’s plan at the end? Why bother having people zoom in on armored motorbikes if Albert was right there with the air support? Why the hell is Carver the main villain when he never even gets out of his fucking chair?

Note To Self: if I ever want to conquer the world, I should avoid saying I am inevitable. It doesn’t go well for anybody.

Maybe Sunia isn’t the problem, but the government that sponsor them? Possibly, but we know even less about what passes for ‘the federal government’ in this dystopia than we do about Sunia. We never meet anybody who represents them. What kind of government can you have after almost everybody over the age of twelve died of the plague? This is one of those things that, if the movie hadn’t brought it up, I would never have thought about it – but once they’ve mentioned it, it bugs me.

The impression I’m left with is City Limits is basically a sequence of ideas somebody thought were cool, with minimal effort made to string them together into an actual story. Skull Helmet? Cool. Motorcycle race through dinosaur bones? Very cool! Biker Viking Funeral? Extremely cool! James Earl Jones blowing shit up with RC kamikaze airplanes? What could be cooler than that? And yeah, all this stuff is fun to watch, but unfortunately that’s just not the same as actually caring about it.

Without coherence or character development to get us interested, the audience is left in exactly the spot Space Mutiny managed to avoid: we just don’t see the point. The only real entertainment value in the film is a few moments of amusing absurdity sprinkled in here and there. The fake-ass dinosaur skeleton is hilarious – as is the establishing shot of the museum, which looks extremely well-groomed for having been ruled by motorcycle gangs for fifteen years. The stinger moment of Bolo hollering in panic as the dinky RC plane closes in to blow him up also got a laugh out of me. Even these would be much improved, though, if we had a better idea what was actually going on.

Because of all this stuff stacked against me giving a shit, I had to watch the movie twice to get anything out of it. On the second viewing, when I stopped expecting to understand what was happening in the plot, I managed to find a couple of interesting ideas peeking out. One was how, here and there, City Limits tries to create a culture for these people who were abandoned as children. Like the film itself, this is based on what a twelve-year-old might think looks cool: the clothes and lairs made out of scavenged bits of 80’s culture. The party-animal, bike-riding lifestyle. The use of comic books as a guide to what life was like before the apocalypse. The weird funeral they hold for Whitey. There’s a Trashpunk Neverland sort of vibe to the whole thing, as if we really are in a world designed by children who never grew up. I wonder if that’s brilliant, or just a poor reflection on the maturity of the film-makers.

The other is an apparently earnest attempt to say something about colonialism. Dr. Wickings (who the hell is giving out doctorates after the end of the world?) argues that the bikers are human beings who are just defending their homeland, and should be treated with compassion. Her bosses at Sunia reply that the bikers are barbarians who need to be gotten out of the way. This is the logic of everybody, everywhere, who has ever conquered anybody else. The Romans said it about the Gauls, the Spaniards said it about the Aztecs, the bad guys in Avatar said it about the Na’vi. In each case, the conquerors who call the conquered ‘barbarians’ use it as an excuse to treat them barbarously.

This is stated explicitly enough in City Limits that it’s clearly intentional, and the analogy continues: Sunia has technology the locals don’t, and that could be of real benefit to everybody – but Sunia aren’t interested in peaceful trade or selfless charity, and the only benefit they want is for themselves (presumably, since like I said, their overall plan is never gone into). The natives had plenty of problems and enmities of their own before this outside force showed up, but they had a system and it worked before Sunia pitted them against each other for gain (again, presumably).

As a theme, this falls apart in two places, both of which I’ve already mentioned. First, we don’t care – we don’t know who these characters are and we can’t tell them apart, so we’re not invested in whether they get conquered or not. I think the laundry-heap costumes are also a major contributor to this. They tend to make all the characters look alike, jumbles of colour without distinguishable silhouettes. Costuming can say quite a lot about a character, but if there’s too much going on the details get lost.

Second, we don’t really have a compelling reason to consider Sunia the bad guys. I swear I know better now than to expect that MST3K cut anything that really mattered, but it was still kind of a surprise to find that there was no missing scene that detailed Sunia’s Evil Master Plan. A supervillain with no Evil Plan is a pretty lousy supervillain, even if his non-evil plan is to be achieved by evil means, and especially when we don’t care about the victims. We just don’t know enough about what was going on here before Sunia showed up to be able to say if it was better or worse in any way. As it stands, Sunia’s offer of food, medicine, electricity, and an end to the gang warfare seems like a pretty good idea to me.

A couple more random notes that didn’t fit anywhere else in the review: since I work in that field myself, I have to say that I’m happy glasses survived the end of civilization. It must be much easier to rediscover all the other technologies when everybody can see. Maybe that’s why there’s so much gasoline and electricity in this post-apocalyptic world – people like James Earl Jones and Kim Cattrall with their glasses could see well enough to keep them coming!

Then there’s the fact that everywhere Lee goes, girls kinda smile awkwardly at him and then immediately take his side. Horse Girl does it, Kim Cattrall does it, Rae Dawn Chong does it… why? There seem to be lots of boys around, so it’s not like the apocalypse left the world with a shortage of dick. This is why so-called ‘incels’ go on shooting sprees – because movies like this have told them that dull white boys should have girls all over them just because they showed up.

Seriously, what the hell happened to Horse Girl? Why was she even in the movie? She comes and goes before the opening credits are over and has no effect on the plot. Did she reappear somewhere and I just never noticed? That’s one of the big rules of storytelling, folks – if you place a horse on the mantlepiece in Act I, you have to use it!

#mst3 #reviews #city limits #80s

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tatselk · 5 years ago

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The Untamed (陈情令) Review: Ep 9

!!! SPOILERS AHEAD !!!

Previous episode review: 1 and 2, 3, 4, 5, 6, 7, 8.

Get ready to be befuddled by all the Wen plot/stygian seal/zombification (and de-zombification) that went down in this episode!

The opening of this episode carries on from the zombified people (NOT corpses) who were trying to attack LWJ, WWX and NHS at the Dancing Goddess temple on Dafan Mountain in the previous episode. Just when it looked as though the three of them had to fight their way out of the zombified horde, the zombies just turned and left as they were under the control of music being played by a flute. WQ was the one who was playing the flute that controlled the zombies. HOLY SHIT. So is this why the live-action got a name change? Because the Grandmaster of Demonic Cultivation is actually the GrandMISTRESS of Demonic Cultivation?!

JC joined the WWX/LWJ/NHS trio at the temple! Oh and reached new levels of tsun-ness in ALMOST confessing how worried he was about WWX disappearing on the Jiangs. :)

WQ told WWX that the zombified people were created/ controlled by energy from the stygian seal which WRH sealed in the Wens’ magical crow-like bird and that if they wanted to help de-zombify these people (de-zombification is a thing now???), they had to kill the bird.

After creating a protective barrier around WQ, JC and NHS, WWX and LWJ went off to kill the bird (and WWX kinda nearly got killed in the process methinks). After LWJ and WWX killed the bird and walked off, WC appeared and looked like he was going to continue going after them for the fragment of the stygian seal. Dun dun dun DUN.

WQ gets to tell (parts of) her backstory and clear up (some of) our confusion about what in the world happened at Dafan Mountain. And whatever that she was unwilling to say about it, WWX figured it out anyway. WQ is from a cadet branch of the Wen sect which specialised in practising medicine and was based on Dafan Mountain. The zombified (and now de-zombified) people are her relatives. 20 years ago, WRH removed a piece of the stygian seal from the Dancing Goddess statue's heart. Since the statue can’t feed on the stygian seal’s energy, it eventually came alive to feed on the energy of living people. WQ and WN’s father died after being attacked by the Dancing Goddess statue and WN himself looked like he had some part of his soul sucked away by the statue or something. WRH then took WQ and WN back to Qishan and raised them.

I THINK WE GOT OUR FIRST LOOK AT BABY!LSZ/ WY IN THIS EPISODE. Like when they were all gathered at the Wen cemetery.

I kinda want to see more of the process of JC and NHS trying to catch a cockerel and being dumbasses about it. :)

Best lines in this episode. WWX: “Maiden Wen, we were deliberately led to this place. The moment we entered the village, the old beggar woman led us to the Dancing Goddess temple. The Dancing Goddess came alive but only went after Lan Zhan, not the rest of us. If this has nothing to do with the stygian seal, there can only be one reason for this. ... She must like Lan Zhan!”. LWJ: “Shut your mouth.” Omg, WWX, please don’t project your crush on LWJ on others and/or announce it to everyone. JC already kinda noticed it back when yall were at the Cloud Recesses. XD

Collision of Yueyang-related bits from different time periods in the novel! The WWX/LWJ/NHS/JC quartet went to a tavern to hear about what unusual things have happened in the area (ie WWX and LWJ going to the tavern to hear about Yueyang stuff in the present timeline of the novel was moved forward to WWX’s flashbacks). What has happened was that the Yueyang Chang sect have apparently disappeared (ie what happened when WWX was dead in the novel was also moved forward to his flashbacks). But at night, there was the sound of somebody banging on the door at the Yueyang Chang sect’s residence (ie what WWX and LWJ learnt at the tavern in the present timeline in the novel was moved forward to WWX’s flashbacks to happen right after the slaughter).

While they were at the tavern, the Lan fragment of the stygian seal suddenly activated itself. LWJ, who had this fragment on him, suddenly got visions of the Chang sect people being slaughtered/ zombified and said that they should go to the Chang sect’s residence. Somehow, this has some Harry Potter/ horcrux or Lord of the Rings/ the One Ring vibes to it.

WWX and JC agreed to go. BUT NHS insisted on remaining at the tavern to wait for MY/JGY to arrive. Why does the live-action production team WANT me to invest in a NHS/MY friendship and, knowing what is going to happen eventually, break my heart???

WWX, LWJ and JC went off to the Chang sect’s residence and found that: (1) the Lan fragment of the stygian seal was activated so somebody recently used another fragment of the seal here, (2) there was the sound of banging on the door, (3) the corpses of the Chang sect people were all over the place and (4) they were zombified before their deaths.

Overall: 7/10. There was ALOT of information thrown at us and deviation from the novel to digest here. Plus, there was basically NO fluffy/shippy-ness so definitely not one of my fav episodes. Haha.

#mdzs #mo dao zu shi #grandmaster of demonic cultivation #the untamed #陈情令 #魔道祖师 #mxtx #review #the untamed review #陈情令 review #chen qing ling

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pinertour · 2 years ago

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Katy perry tumblr gif live

Pressure, and the likelihood of premature death. Time out to pray/meditate, is most beneficial and reduces stress, blood Modern medicinal practices have confirmed that doing this, taking Intending to do that, as you sit to temporarily still your minds, brings you Your minds, take your attention away from the almost constant flow of thoughtsĪrising there, and relax into the underlying stillness that is All. It is indeed an enormous paradox for you, and as you live in what appears to beĪn either/or world, enormous doubts arise in your minds. Inseparable from Source, and yet what you are seemingly experiencing is separation! Illusion, the nightmare of separation, it is almost impossible for you toĬonceive of it in any meaningful way. Joy is your nature, and nothing can disturb or change it because Love, which isĮternally unchanging, is, by Its very nature, Joy.Īs humans in form, experiencing the dream, the Offered to and accepted by Source, Mother/Father/God, One, Love, Wisdom – You! With the All, in a glorious symphony of praise that is continuously being You constantly co-create in concert with and utterly harmoniously with the One, You are One with Source in every moment as Source, that is You! You have never left Home because there is nowhere else, Seem that you were never asleep, as the joy of this eternal Now momentĬontinues to embrace you and enfold you in the field of divine Love that is So, you will awaken Now, and when you do it will Reality is where you are in every moment. Source: katheryn elizabeth hudson katheryn-elizabeth-hudson katherynhudson katy perry sexy katy hudson katy perry katy+perry+sexy katy katycats katyperrysexy katyperry katyperrycollections perry kati perri sexi sexi kat parti sexy sexĭIVINE MASCULINE PERSPECTIVE (During Twin Flame Separation) You may as well stay asleep and vote for Republicrats, before someone like the Medium Channel take over the global IT sector replacing it with telepathy. The Truth About the Law of Attraction | Psychology Today Karma does not exist and the Law of Attraction fails to release its secret as the new 1% rulers on New Earth see rationality ruling as all their core beliefs of Astrology, Numerology, Oneness, Universal consciousness and Christs Consciousness all scientifically debunked: New age ideology stipulates that the spiritually enlightened individual need not engage in any form of worldly or physically based activism for a global paradigm shift to New Earth, a modern Utopia based on New Age beliefs and desires and attempted manifestations via the Law of Attraction even in the wake of societal chaos, governmental conspiracy, ecological decimation, political duplicity, cultural enslavement and global hegemony, our New Agers use the absurd premise based upon the presumption that personal spiritual transformation and increased vibrational resonance will by itself generate the alteration of collective change, when all we had was totalitarian government by a ruling elite of the 1%, now the New Agers think they can convert the 100% just by the different minority rule of approx 1% again as New Age is big business but is it bad business? Meanwhile over at New Age HQ in Sedona, Arizona they worship the love n light of the ET saviours from the Galactic Feds, although the messages are not emanating from ET’s but Californian Snake Oil salesmen living high vibes on the youtube advert money. Tom Hiddleston, Jessica Chastain and Colin Firth are my main fav actors and my fav director is Christopher Nolan, I never have one fav thing as you can tell, not even movies, my fav movies are Interstellar, The Avengers adn Kingsman The Secret Service, oh yeah my fav colors are red and violet.Katy Perry - Roar (Live at BBC Glasgow 2014) I absolutely love making parallel gifsets, which is great bc I’m always making parallels in my head with everything lol. i love making gifs of my fav artists and movies, i only read books (apparently) related to my fav artists bc i need “visual support” (if there’s such thing), i love listening to music scores (mostly hans zimmer, ramin djawadi) and some of my fav music score’s while doing anything, as well as halsey, katy perry, rihanna, avril lavigne and jobros. i have been using tumblr since 2011, i have filthyfirth since december 2018, nakedhiddles since july 2015 and before that i had others for jonas brothers. Hi i’m brazilian and live in rio de janeiro, i study graphic design.

#Katy perry tumblr gif live

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killjoy-loveit · 6 years ago

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Witness Part 10

A/N: I’m hoping this will be a ten part series like Intruder, if it won’t be I will make it very clear. It’s also in 1st POV. I would also like to clarify that everything written in this story is complete fiction.

Summary: Noah’s injuries prevent her from working jobs for a bit, and her re-entry job doesn’t go as planned. Oh, and there’s a whole dtr (define the relationship) moment.

Word Count: 2,229

Profanity/Violence/Gore? Warning!

After the incident last night, I ended up with two broken ribs, a fractured shoulder, and an extreme bruise on my neck. Every part of me hurt and the doctors prescribed me some serious pain medicines and put my arm in a sling, all while making sure Jongup knew to keep a close eye on me for the next week. The doctors were quite curious as to what happened, at first, they were suspicious of Jongup for domestic violence, but I assured them that was not the case. Thankfully, they believed me.

At first, they had wanted to keep me overnight, but Jongup and I managed to convince them that it wasn’t necessary, saying that if anything happened we would come right back. So, they let us go home, needless to say we didn’t have to go back. It took close to three months before my injuries were completely healed, which was quite annoying. I felt like I couldn’t do anything, like I was helpless.

I couldn’t train or help out on scouting marks, it was as if I was back to being a prisoner with no use. Although, I’d technically never been a prisoner, I was meant to help Jongup pull information but he just didn’t let me. So this unwanted free time of mine was spent doing anything and everything to keep my boredom at bay. For the most part I was reading as much as I could, and for the times when the words would blur together I would turn on the TV and watch some random show or movie.

Other times, whenever Jongup was at the apartment, I entertained myself with him. He was still fun to annoy, and now when he got too annoyed he just turned to me and took his annoyance out sexually. Which I have absolutely no qualms about, other than the fact that he had to be gentler than I wanted because I was injured.

I simultaneously hated being injured and enjoyed it, because while I was in pain and couldn’t do quite a bit of stuff, I was allowed the freedom to contact my family and friends. Which was something I hadn’t been allowed to do since they took me a year or so ago. I even got to go out for coffee with my best friend and kind of catch her up on my life, obviously I had to lie about certain stuff, well, a lot of stuff. But in general, it was nice to see someone who wasn’t involved in crime, and talk about normal, mundane things for once.

Today was my last day of freedom, I guess you could call it, because tomorrow I would be going back into the field. I could tell Jongup was worried as he kept rushing around the apartment, nervously double-checking the weapons and tidying at the same time. It’s kind of an adorable habit, especially the way he nibbles on his lip as he wanders around with his eyes flicking about.

“You can stop worrying, I’ll be fine.” I call out, stopping him mid-step.

He turns around to face me, his eyebrows furrowed. “I’m allowed to worry about you, Noah, you’re my girlfriend. You almost died three months ago, I don’t know if you’re ready... I should just tell the boss you aren’t ready.”

I knew there was a lot he just said, but I could only focus on one part. “I’m your girlfriend?”

“Yes, of course. Is that even a question?”

“I mean, we’ve never really clarified what this was.” I say, motioning between us.

Jongup gives me his signature glare as he comes over to where I sat on the couch. “Okay, so let’s clarify. Do you want to be in a relationship with me?”

“Yes.” I murmur softly, avoiding his gaze.

His hand reaches out and he cups my jaw, tilting my head so I look him in the eyes. “Alright, so why’d you make a fuss about me calling you my girlfriend?”

“I just... I didn’t know you had us labeled, I wasn’t expecting it.”

This was just supposed to be a normal job, you know, one to get me back into the swing of things. That’s what it was supposed to be, but it wasn’t. This was a setup. We had walked right into a trap, completely unsuspecting. The situation was reversed, instead of being the hunters, we became the hunted. Of course, it wasn’t obvious right off the bat and we fell into their trap quite perfectly.

An Hour Ago

The bar was rather empty for nine o’clock at night, with maybe only eight other patrons inside, including our target. Although, based on its appearance it made sense. The dark wood floors were scratched and sticky, the wallpaper yellowing and peeling. Overall, it felt like the interior was falling apart, and the bar didn’t pull in enough money to fix it.

For the first time, our target was a woman, and I have to admit she’s got an ethereal beauty to her. Her hair is black as ink, falling in waves down her back. She holds herself so tall with an air of regality that I find it hard to believe she actually stepped foot in this shit-hole of a bar. And since our target was a female, I wasn’t going to be the one pulling the information, it was going to be Jongup. I know he used to do this all the time without me, but it made me uncomfortable having him do what I deemed ‘my job’.

So, there I sat, in a crusty booth, thank heavens I chose to wear jeans tonight, watching Jongup chat up our gorgeous mark. I felt a twinge of jealousy at the sight of him so close to her, despite knowing he was only so close to learn information in order to kill her. I wanted to get this over with as fast as possible. This woman was our target because she works just underneath the leader of our rival, she’s practically his right hand. Yes, the boss is aware that by taking her out we’re asking for a full-on war, but apparently risking war is worth it because he wants her dead.

Thirty minutes passed and Jongup was still working on her. I was slowly losing my patience with the situation, and I had noticed a few of the other patrons were acting strangely. As I had nothing to do but observe the room, I was aware each time someone made a move outside the ordinary. The two men talking at the bar had both done the same odd hand motion three times, as had the man sitting by himself at a table chomping peanuts and drinking beer. The other four patrons had shuffled out, as they’d been together, all of them declaring they should go home and bid goodnight to the bartender.

Something was off. The vibe wasn’t right and the air seemed to get thicker once the group of four left, as if something was about to go down. If I hadn’t been paying such close attention I would have missed it. I would have missed the eye contact between the three remaining men and our mark. But I caught it, and I knew in an instant that we’d been set up. A glint of silver flashed in the woman’s hand and I barely had enough time to scream out a warning.

“Jongup, knife!”

Now

Bullets were flying, and I was narrowly dodging them. I knew Jongup was to my left, he’d managed to get away from the woman with only a slight cut on his arm. Pulling my gun from its holster, I peeked out from my cover behind a booth and took aim at one of the men. The bullet only clipped his shoulder, but this gave Jongup enough time to get in the kill shot. I ducked back behind my cover as a bullet whizzed by my ear, courtesy of our mark.

I glanced to the side just in time to see a bullet rip through Jongup’s shoulder, a shout of pain released into the air as he moved to find cover. My eyes went wide and I moved from behind the booth and laid eyes on the man and woman remaining. Aiming quickly, I took the man out, a surge of satisfaction rushing through me as I watched his body hit the ground. I didn’t have time to dwell on it though as Jongup moved from his cover to try and take out the woman. His bullet lodged in her thigh, but she didn’t drop to the floor, she stayed standing, blood gushing down her leg.

I didn’t move fast enough, she aimed her gun at Jongup and pulled the trigger. It felt like the world was in slow motion as I watched the bullet speed through the air, slam through his chest and finally bury itself in the wall behind him. I was frozen as he fell to the floor, his blood rapidly pooling around him. The click of her gun snapped me back to reality and I felt fury like I’ve never experienced flood through me.

Turning back to her I shot five times, two in each leg, and one in her gun-wielding hand, effectively dropping her to the floor, useless. In a sudden panic as I remembered Jongup lying on the floor, I rushed over to him, dropping to my knees. I tore my shirt off, using it in an attempt to stop the bleeding and apply pressure to the wound.

Frantically, I yanked my phone from my pocket and pressed it to my ear after dialing Z’s number. Come one, pick up the fucking phone.

“Noah?” Z asked, picking up after the first ring.

“Z, oh my god! You- you have to get to the bar, Jongup’s been shot! He’s gonna die!” I cried out.

“Shit! Okay, okay. We’ll be there, keep him alive.”

The line went dead. Hot tears trickled down my cheeks.

“You aren’t allowed to die. I won’t let you.” I whisper harshly, pressing down harder on his chest.

His eyes flutter open slightly and he gives me a wary smile. “I’ll try not to.”

“You have to keep talking to me, Jongup, alright?”

“Okay, Noah.” He whispers, eyes closing softly.

I shake him in an attempt to get him to open his eyes, but they won’t budge. He’s still breathing rather steadily, and I think the bleeding may have slowed down, but I really can’t tell as there’s so much blood everywhere.

“Come on, come on! Don’t fucking die on me! I can barely live without Willa, how am I supposed to live without you, too?”

I take in a deep shuddering breath. When is Z going to get here with help? I don’t know how much longer Jongup’s going to last.

“I love you, please, I know you can fight this.” I whisper.

The door to the bar bursts open and then its just a mess of commotion. People everywhere, doing different things. The scene feels oddly reminiscent as I’m dragged away from Jongup kicking and screaming, except this time I’m covered in blood. I barely realize it’s Z who’s pulling me away from Jongup so that a doctor, somehow connected to us, can work on him.

I reverted back to the zombie mode I knew so well. Minutes turned to hours, that moved so slowly I thought I could feel myself aging. We’d been transported to some kind of safe place that was used for medical purposes, for when situations like this arose. It was taking too long. If Jongup was going to be okay, they would’ve said something by now.

“He’s out of surgery, everything went well. It’ll be a while before he wakes up, but you can sit by his bed if you want.” A doctor says politely.

I scoff. “If I want to? Obviously, I’m going to go sit by his damned bed.”

It was torture to sit beside his bed, seeing him hooked up to all these machines. I just wanted him to be magically better, like he never got hurt, he never stood up and got shot. Why didn’t he stay behind cover? I softly held onto his hand, blinking my eyes quickly in an attempt to keep the exhaustion threatening to overwhelm me at bay. Let’s just say I lost that battle.

Some time later, pressure on my hand woke me up. My eyes fluttered, clearing the remaining vestiges of sleep from them. Jongup’s eyes were open and focused on me. I sat up quickly.

“How are you feeling? Do you need pain meds? Should I go get the doctor?”

He shook his head. “No, but I do have a question.”

“Anything.” I breathe out, leaning in closer to him.

Jongup’s voice was soft. “Do you really love me?”

“What?”

“After you asked how you were supposed to live without me, you said you loved me. Did you mean it?”

“How did you- I mean, of course I meant it. I didn’t even know you could hear me. I thought you were unconscious.”

“I love you too, Noah.” Jongup said with a smile.

“Alright, now that our love has been declared. How about we both say we’re even on the near-death experiences and not scare each other shitless like this again, deal?”

“Deal.”

#b.a.p #b.a.p series #b.a.p mafia au #b.a.p jongup #b.a.p jongup series #mafia au #series #fanfic #Witness series

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killervibe · 6 years ago

Text

The Snow Project

Notes: So I’m late for Day 3- Time Travelling, but the good news is that this means you’re getting two fics from me today!!! Here’s yesterday’s theme! I really liked this idea...Enjoy! Also, I’m having WAY too much fun with the abundance of fic. I wish EVERY week was Killervibe week!!!

@killervibedaily

The Snow Project

Cisco was in the middle of sketching a prototype for the Quantum Electric Multiplier Gun when Barry sped into the Cortex.

“Hey,” Barry said, “Can I talk to you for a minute?”

Cisco looked at his garbage drawing and gladly pushed it away. “Yeah, What’s up?”

“Joe just told me about a really puzzling meta case at CCPD.”

Cisco looked intrigued. “Why is it so puzzling?”

Barry’s face lit up. “So this pedestrian, Nolan Fisher, about 50 years old, gets into a car accident, right? He was walking across the street with his eyes glued to his phone so he didn’t realize he was walking into ongoing traffic.”

“Okay…”

“Get this,” Barry said, getting all excited. “He loses an arm!”

Cisco’s mouth dropped in horror, “That’s terrible!”

“No, it isn’t!” Barry objected, “Because he gets in the ambulance and the paramedics realize they can just,” Barry made a funny gesture with his hands, “Pop! Attach his arm back where it was just like that! No blood no nothing! Just like that he gained complete motion of his arm!”

“What?” Cisco screeched. “You mean like a mannequin?” Cisco paused. “Mr. Mannequin, that’s a good one.”

“Uh huh,” Barry nodded, “And it gets crazier. This guy claims he had this from birth. And not just that, his whole family can do it. His mother, father, maternal cousin…”

Cisco frowned, “But how is that possible? Metas only started appearing due to the particle accelerator or Devoe’s bus metas.”

“And the similarity in both were the dark matter,” Barry agreed. “But this guy’s medical tests show none.”

“There are more metas out there,” Cisco said. It’s not a question. It would’ve been, two years ago, but not anymore. Not since Cisco vibed with Caitlin her repressed memory where she had turned into Killer Frost as a kid. Caitlin asked him not to tell anyone, so he hadn’t. He kept quiet, but now he wondered if maybe he should be speaking up.

Barry threw his hands in the air, “Maybe there were other types of metas this whole time!” He looked around the room, realizing it was quieter than usual. Ralph was away in Wisconsin but... “Wait, where’s Caitlin?”

Cisco sighed, “She’s sick. She caught a cold so she’s staying home. Ha! That’s ironic.”

“Okay,” Barry said slowly, and you could tell he was calculating something in his mind. “Okay, that’s good actually.”

Cisco scrunched up his face in confusion. “You want Caitlin to be sick? That’s not being a good friend…”

“No, there’s a reason.”

Barry sat down next to Cisco and explained to him that apparently there was a doctor who researched into the possibility of superpowered humans about seventeen years ago with several examples. It was pretty much ignored by academia and dismissed as a joke paper, buried away. It was obvious however, based off descriptions of abilities, that one of them was a relative of Nolan Fisher. The problem? The contact information on the file was an old phone number and home address for the doctor, which was great. Except for the fact the research was published posthumously after the doctor’s long battle with multiple sclerosis.

“Who was the doctor?” Cisco asked.

Barry looked down at the brown folder. He opened it, then silently slid the papers across the table to Cisco.

Mr. Ethan Snow.

Cisco’s eyes widened. “Caitlin’s dad?”

“Yeah. Does Caitlin ever talk about him?”

“No,” Cisco admitted, “I know his death hit her hard, it inspired her to become a doctor, but it was also the driving force that put a wedge in the relationship Caitlin had with her mom.”

Barry worried his bottom lip into his mouth, giving Cisco a look.

Cisco knew where this was going.

“You want to go back in time and meet him, don’t you?”

Barry at least had the audacity to look sheepish. “Before you freak out, I asked Jay Garrick. If we meet him several months before he dies, Jay said us being there shouldn’t have much impact if we’re careful.”

Cisco mulled it over. He was still stunned. Caitlin’s dad. That was really interesting. It seemed too coincidental, for this to not have anything to do with Killer Frost. The more he thought about it, the more bothered he got. If Caitlin’s father knew about her, he should’ve told her. Maybe it could’ve helped, if Caitlin was prepared…

“I’m in,” Cisco said. “But we’re not telling Cait.”

Barry nodded, “I know you don’t want to keep secrets from her, but I think that’s the wisest choice.”

Cisco started to get excited. He heard all of Barry’s adventures from time travelling and after the Flashpoint fiasco. Unless he quit Team Flash and joined the Legends, he always thought it was something he’d never get to experience.

Cisco took a deep breath. “When do we leave?”

~.~

It’s 2004, and the first thing Cisco does is pull a Diggle and puke into a public garbage can.

“I’m sorry man,” Barry said apologetically as Cisco gagged.

It took a minute for Cisco’s stomach to settle. “I’m usually good with your speed travels but we were going really fast.”

Barry found a map somehow and located Caitlin’s old home address. They were using the face morphing tech made for H.R. so to not alter anything should they run into Caitlin.

Hopefully they won’t. It’s the middle of the day and she should be in middle school.

Cisco flexed his fingers and opened a breach. They ended up right in front of Caitlin’s house.

To use the word house was being modest. It was a mansion.

They both took a minute to soak it in.

Cisco whistled softly, “Damn, I knew Caitlin’s family had money but this house is…”

“Bitchin?” Barry joked, nudging him forward, “Come on, let’s go.”

They ring the doorbell and a middle aged nurse opens the door. Barry told her they’re visitors for Dr. Snow and the nurse beamed delightedly.

“It’s been a long time since he’s gotten any visitors from young people like you. Sickness scares people away, you know. It’s a shame, really. How about I go for my lunch and leave you with him for an hour? He’s having a good day. If you need anything, you can ask Meyrielle, the cleaning lady. She’s in the basement. Mr. Snow is in the living room.”

She stopped after she grabbed her purse.

“Who did you say you were, again?”

“We used to work with him when we were residents,” Cisco made up on the spot.

“Oh, that’s nice!” The nurse gave them another sunny smile and left.

Barry and Cisco shared a look. That was ridiculously easy.

They walked down the luxurious hallways with mahogany wooden floors and walls lined with what looked like expensive original paintings.

“Caitlin’s mom has an interesting taste of interior design,” Cisco mumbled as they made their way to the living room.

Barry knocked on the side of the door and peered in.

There was Dr. Snow, the Mister Dr. Snow, on the couch watching television.

Cisco marvelled. Caitlin looked a lot like him. He was very thin in places people only were when they were chronically sick, and he hunched over himself in an awkward angle. But he still had a full head thick of Caitlin’s brown hair. They had the same complexion, and a very similar face shape as well. A wheelchair was next to him and there were many pills in a pouch on the adjacent coffee table. Cisco was rather surprised, he was bracing for him to appear a lot worse.

“Hello, Dr. Snow? I’m Barry Allen and this is Cisco Ramon. We came to ask you some questions about something sensitive regarding your research and we were wondering if you had the moment to talk with us about it.”

Dr. Snow perked up immediately. “Oh, I’d love to discuss medicine with you. I miss practicing.”

Barry glanced at Cisco who nodded. They agreed to just go ahead and tell him everything. The man only had two months left to live and it was unlikely he would deny their story if Barry and Cisco could show him their powers to prove it.

“Bear with us,” Cisco warned, “This is going to sound crazy.”

Barry retold the entire tale. The time travelling, him being struck by lightning due to the particle accelerator explosion, his job at CCPD, including the particle accelerator explosion and being best friends with Caitlin. Finally, Barry asked about the Fisher case and what Dr. Snow thought about genetically hereditary powers.

Dr. Snow listened carefully throughout and explained his theory of mutant genes being a genetic possibility for having powers from birth.

“You mean like the X-Men?”

Dr. Snow nodded. “Maybe Stan Lee’s comics aren’t so fantastical after all. I believe although rare, there might have been...Metahumans as you say...Since the beginning of time.”

Barry was leaning forward absorbing every word that came out of Dr. Snow’s mouth, reminding Cisco a lot of how he used to act around evil Wells.

“How on Earth did you get so involved with this?” Barry wondered outloud.

Something twisted in Cisco’s gut. No matter how awesome Caitlin’s dad seemed, he was still hiding this from his daughter. How could he say all of this to two people he just met but not Caitlin, who should know?

“Because of Caitlin!” Cisco blurted out, and Barry turned to Cisco, wide-eyed.

Dr. Snow was so shocked he began to cough and he shouted out in pain.

“I know that you know about Caitlin’s secret,” Cisco confided. “I understand you want to protect your daughter, but keeping her in the dark about this isn’t a good idea—”

“That’s enough, Cisco,” Barry cut him off, immediately apologizing to Dr. Snow, and tending to his side.

“I’m fine boys,” Dr. Snow waved off, but Barry asked Cisco to get him some water from the kitchen anyways.

“Please, let’s keep this secret between us,” he requested, his voice a little horse, as Cisco left the room.

Cisco was glad for the excuse to leave. Being here felt wrong. He was sorry he came. Cisco had to do something. He could feel it in his bones, there’s no way that he’s leaving 2004 without altering the timeline in some way. He realized these were a dying man’s last wishes to respect, but it also went completely against everything he stood for when it came to Caitlin: Doing what was best for her.

Cisco had his hand on the fridge handle when footsteps went thundering down the stairs.

Cisco froze.

A young girl shy of fifteen made her way through the house. She wore blue jean shorts and a yellow spaghetti tank. Her hair was in a ponytail and she looked downright frazzled.

It was Caitlin. Oh god. It was fourteen year old Caitlin. Cisco couldn’t breathe.

“Daddy?” She called, rushing past Cisco so fast she didn’t even notice a stranger was in her kitchen.

“Daddy are you okay, what’s the matter?”

Cisco could hear Dr. Snow reassuring her from the living room that he was alright but it was clear she wasn’t taking no for an answer.

It went quiet for a while, undoubtedly her father and Barry diverting questions about who Barry was and what he was doing.

“I’m getting you water,” she informed, and marched into the kitchen.

Cisco knew he was wearing a different face but he still felt utterly exposed.

“Why are there two strangers in my house?” Young Caitlin snapped.

“I’m also visiting,” Cisco told her. She opened a cupboard for a glass. Cisco opened the fridge and handed her a water bottle, trying not to stare at her like a creep.

He glanced at the time on their fancy electrical stove. “Shouldn’t you be at school?”

Caitlin’s face was very matter of fact as she poured the water from the bottle into the glass. She added some vitamin tablets and said, “I can stay home sometimes when Dad is having a good day. We don’t know how many of those he’ll have left.”

“You don’t seem to be the type to miss school,” he couldn’t help but say. Caitlin, his Caitlin, who managed two doctorates and a PhD in what…? Five years? She must’ve skipped some grades in high school. Cisco skipped two. That rigorous work ethic made even taking an early dismissal for a dentist appointment in eighth grade sound impossible.

Caitlin shrugged, “I don’t mind not going as long as I get the homework.”

Ah yes, there she is.

Caitlin continued, “Besides, there’s this girl, Lexi, she torments me at school for who knows why. Why would I want to spend my days there when I can be with him, right?”

No wonder Caitlin didn’t talk much about her life before college. This all just seemed so sad.

Cisco rested his chin on the palm of his hand and leaned his elbow against the marble counter, fascinated by this version of his best friend.

“You seem like a smart girl. What do you want to be when you grow up?”

Caitlin lit up, “A zoologist!”

Cisco snorted. The glare Caitlin shot him was a fetus compared to some of the ones he receives at Star Labs now.

“What about a doctor?” Cisco asked.

“Eh,” She sounded disinterested, “we’ve got enough Dr. Snows around here. If you’ll excuse me, I’m going to give this to Dad.”

Cisco watched Caitlin go.

Barry walked into the kitchen as Caitlin walked out. He swiveled around her awkwardly in the doorway looking down at her and then up at Cisco repeatedly mouthing out Cait! and So Freaky! accompanied with many weirded out facial expressions.

“I got what I needed,” Barry said out loud, pulling out a high stool from the kitchen island to sit on.

“That’s great,” Cisco told him, sounding a little flat.

“I’m really confused,” Barry admitted, “How does Dr. Snow know anything about KF?”

Cisco took a deep breath. “I vibed it with her the day we defeated DeVoe. It turns out...Caitlin’s first encounter with KF in fact happened four years ago, as in 2000. Not 2017,” he whispered. “She’s been repressing the memory.”

Barry’s eyes nearly bugged out of his head, “What the hell?”

“He knows Barry, he knew this entire time and just let her go on by herself.” Cisco was so anguished. Barry patted his shoulder sympathetically.

“It sounds like he’s trying to do the right thing. He really doesn’t want her to be burdened with this fear. Can’t you imagine how scary that would be for a teenager?”

Cisco knew to some extent that Barry was right. Still, it didn’t sit well with him. It would be so easy to fix it all right there and then. If Killer Frost is triggered psychologically, wouldn’t being mentally prepared for her arrival actually work to keep her at bay?

“Can’t we do something?”

Barry sighed. He got up quickly, looked left and right and then flashed Cisco out the house.

Barry started scolding Cisco in front of the Snow’s peonies.

“You know the answer to that already. We should be going. Now.”

“Please, Barry,” Cisco pleaded, “She’s had so much pain in her life. What if we could change that?”

“You’re not getting it,” Barry cried, “It’s because of me time travelling to try and save my mom that I screwed up the timeline! If it wasn’t for my interference, Caitlin never would’ve been Killer Frost to begin with!”

“And if we don’t do something now, she’ll run away terrified of Killer Frost in sixteen years because we kept our mouths shut instead of helping our best friend!”

“Anything dealing with Killer Frost is too risky!”

“Maybe it’s a risk I’m willing to take,” Cisco replied stubbornly.

Barry crossed his arms across his chest.

“Like Dante?”

The hurt on Cisco’s face was so evident Barry could’ve slapped him and it wouldn’t have looked any different.

“I’m sorry,” Barry apologized genuinely.

Cisco sat down in the grass, stunned into silence.

“That’s what happens when you tamper with fixed events,” Barry explained softly, ridding the patronizing tone from his voice this time.

“I know how much you care about Caitlin,” he continued, “I should’ve known this would be incredibly hard for you to stand back and watch. I shouldn’t have asked you to come with me.”

“I wanted to see a slice of Caitlin’s life when I assumed would’ve been a happier time. But when I spoke to her...She’s had it so hard, man. Since the beginning. All I can think about when I’m in this house is how she’s going to lose her father and then she’s going to fall out with her mom and then she’s going to lose Ronnie and her career. Her entire life has been like this.”

Barry kicked some fancy fertilized dirt. “I know.”

“I just wish we could do something.”

“I know,” Barry said again.

Cisco squinted at the 2004 sky. “Hey,” he said, an idea forming in the back of his mind as a Ferrari blasting Usher’s Yeah! drove by. “Maybe we can.”

~.~

They went back inside. They waited for Caitlin to go to the bathroom for Cisco apologized and promised Dr. Snow he’d keep the secret for Caitlin to find out—-If she ever does—In 2018 and not 2004. They also showed him some pictures of Team Flash and their Caitlin from their phones and reassured him that, all in all, Caitlin was happy and successful. He should be proud.

Dr. Snow brushed away tears, eternally grateful.

He really was a nice man. Cisco had to turn away for a moment to collect his emotions. If only Caitlin could have one more moment with him. Cisco shook his head, clearing his thoughts. He couldn’t even tell her about it.

They waved goodbye to Caitlin as she returned with blankets and snacks to cuddle up with her father and watch a VHS.

“Hey,” Cisco said to Caitlin, who looked up from the television to him.

“Don’t give up, okay? Promise?”

Young Caitlin smiled a little, intrigued if not slightly confused.

“Promise the young man,” Dr. Snow nudged at his daughter, teasing her.

“...I Promise?”

Cisco hid his smile. “That’s all I wanted to hear.”

They left the house as the nurse came back from her lunch. “Aww, leaving already?” She pouted.

“Yeah, we’re pressed for time,” Barry told her, and they quickened their paces down the Snows cobblestone walkway.

“Come again!” The nurse called cheerfully.

~.~

Central East Middle School was just beginning their after school cheerleading practice of the day when Cisco breached right in front of Lexi Laroche and her stupid clique gossiping under the bleachers.

The girls all screamed.

“Hi!” Cisco enthused, “Which one of you little snakes is Lexi Laroche?”

The leader of the group stood up on wobbly legs. “Me.”

“I’m a superhero from the future,” Cisco said, “And I got informed that you bully Caitlin Snow.”

Lexi Laroche turned white. “I wouldn’t call it bullying…” She stammered. How quaint, Cisco thought, she had a french accent to accompany the French last name.

Cisco threw a vibe blast at a soccer ball. All of the air exploded out of the ball. The girls jumped, then huddled together. “Yeah,” Cisco said sarcastically, “And I wouldn’t call that exploding a soccer ball with my bare hands.”

Lexi gulped.

“This is what’s going to happen. You’re going to read this pamphlet about the dangers of bullying. It has a whole list of ugly things nobody wants to be called or have done to, but guess what? You did those. And you said that. There are far better things to do with your life. Like, say, expand your wardrobe beyond hot pink juicy couture sweatpants and bubblegum pink tube tops.”

Cisco pulled out the bullying pamphlet from his Vibe Jacket and gave it to her.

“Next, you’re going to stay away from Caitlin. I don’t want to see you behaving despicably like that to Caitlin or any other girl. Is that clear?”

Lexi Laroche nodded her head so fast she looked like a bobble head.

Cisco put his hands on his hips, satisfied. He seemed to have caught their attention well enough. He didn’t want to traumatize them.

“Good.” He opened a breach. “Bye.”

~.~

Barry brought them back to 2018.

As soon as Barry was certain Cisco wasn’t going to get dizzy and faint, he went straight to CCPD with his new information.

On the other hand, Cisco breached to a certain sick friend’s apartment.

Cisco walked down the hall towards Caitlin’s room. The lights were shut off and she was fast asleep.

He turned on her bedside table lamp and knelt on the floor next to her sleeping form. He whispered for her to wake up, placing a hand on her forehead.

No fever, that’s good.

She opened an eye and mumbled a groggy hello at Cisco. He waited for her to get her bearings and sit up in her bed. Cisco would’ve normally sat on her bed if she was injured or upset in the past, but she’s sick and he really doesn’t want her germs so he pulled up a chair instead.

“How are you feeling?”

Caitlin swallowed purposely and blinked a few more times, obviously attempting to come up with an adequate self-evaluation. “Better.”

“Good to hear,” Cisco threw a paper bag onto her lap.

She raised an eyebrow. “What’s this?”

Cisco bounced in his seat, “Just open it!”

Caitlin emptied the bag and out fell a box of cookies.

Caitlin gaped, “Choco-Hearties!? I thought they don’t make these anymore! Cisco!!” She slapped at his arm excitedly, “These were my favorite cookies growing up. How did you find them?”

Caitlin busied herself with opening the flaps and stuffed two in her mouth right away.

“I don’t even care that this hurts my throat,” she mumbled happily around her mouthful.

Cisco laughed, very much proud of his accomplishment. Also very glad that Caitlin was still too tired to notice Cisco blacked out the expiry date.

“Hey,” Cisco said casually, three Brooklyn-Nine-Nine episodes later. Caitlin was getting drowsy and her cookie box was three-thirds eaten. Cisco tried one and he too now understood why she wrote a letter of complaint to the company in ninth grade. Good thing he bought two more.

Caitlin hummed in response.

“I ran into one of my childhood bullies today, it reminded me of what you said about that girl who put gum in your hair, what was her name? Alexis?”

Caitlin frowned. “Lexi? She picked on me for maybe three months in eighth and then stopped bothering me. I heard she moved to France...Cisco I’m sorry I’m really tired.”

Cisco ran his hand through her hair and tried to keep the silly grin out of his voice. “That’s alright. You sleep. I’ll check on you tomorrow.”

FIN.

#killervibe #killervibefanficweek #killervibefanficweek18 #day 3 time travelling #thatkillervibe #thatkillervibefic #the flash #flash fic #flash fanfic #Caitlin Snow #Cisco Ramon #Barry Allen #angst #and fluff #killervibe fic

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staircasttext · 3 years ago

Text

Ep 18: Purrlock Holmes

Episode 18

[intro music]

LIZ: That's the price for being a cool tattoo bad guy now.

PAZ: Yeah, with my little cow.

JULIAN: Yeah, Paz's cow tattoo has made them a regular Tigerclaw.

LIZ: Yes, stealing cows is a crime.

PAZ: Tigerclaw's that guy who has like, Mom tattooed on his huge bicep. Does he have a canonical-- does he have mom problems? I don't even know.

JULIAN: Oh, I don't remember.

PAZ: I typed that into google. Martial arts supplies. You don't...

JULIAN: Oh, no. Here, I pulled up the wiki. Um, his mother was Leopardfoot, who only appears in the super editions.

PAZ: Oh, she was apparently the mate of the former leader, Pinestar.

JULIAN: Damn.

PAZ: Maybe he has daddy issues.

LIZ: Maybe he's like--

PAZ: It sounds like maybe he has daddy issues.

JULIAN: Oh damn. Goosefeather asks why the clan leader's mate had such a hard birth, saying StarClan was angry.

PAZ: Oh.

LIZ: [gasps] StarClan said this baby was evil.

JULIAN: The old medicine cat also sees evil in Tigerkit and tries to warn the clan.

LIZ: What?!

JULIAN: Assigned evil at kitten.

LIZ: Does StarClan like--

PAZ: Does he get--

LIZ: No, go ahead.

PAZ: Does he murder that medicine cat at zero days old? What happened to her?

LIZ: Oh, I bet he did. They fucking like Damian'ed this tiny baby cat.

PAZ: Is this in like a super edition? Maybe we gotta read that one.

JULIAN: Yeah, it is. It's in the Bluestar's Prophecy super edition.

LIZ: This is so funny.

JULIAN: There's also-- "during Snowfur's kitting, Bluefur brings a stick and tells Leopardfoot that it's for Snowfur to clamp her jaws on when the pains come. Leopardfoot remembers her painful kitting, wishing she also had a stick."

PAZ: Why didn't anyone bring her a stick?

JULIAN: Why didn't anyone get her a stick?

LIZ: They have a forest. They have to have them.

PAZ: Oh my god.

JULIAN: There's a lot of sticks.

LIZ: You don't need a big one. They're cats.

PAZ: Aren't there sticks all around their camp?

LIZ: They're probably sleeping on some. Just like, get one. What if--

PAZ: Okay, extremely funny.

LIZ: Leopardfoot sounds just normal right now.

PAZ: Yeah, except she has a horrible evil infant.

JULIAN: She doesn't seem to really have a personality beyond mother, based on this.

PAZ: From what I'm reading about Pinestar, I think maybe Tigerclaw had some daddy issues because Pinestar apparently left to go be a kittypet.

LIZ: Oh.

PAZ: Yeah, the drama.

JULIAN: Well, shit.

LIZ: Wow.

PAZ: I don't know if it ever comes up in the main series. I don't know.

LIZ: Pinestar's got it right.

PAZ: Yeah, Pinestar did what we have been saying this whole podcast.

LIZ: He's like, fuck all of this. I'm going inside.

JULIAN: Do it. Get out.

LIZ: Also, my baby is evil. I'm out of here.

PAZ: Yeah.

LIZ: What if this baby just had bad vibes?

PAZ: Your baby ever have such bad vibes you move? You move to another country.

JULIAN: Yeah, this whole Pinestar backstory only appears in the super editions.

PAZ: Huh.

LIZ: This is so funny.

PAZ: What? "When StarClan began urging Pinestar to kill his own son."

LIZ: What?

JULIAN: Holy shit.

PAZ: That's why he left. He was... wait, he was twins with Jake?

JULIAN: Yeah.

PAZ: The intricacies.

LIZ: Wow.

JULIAN: There's so many layers here. Wow. Wow.

LIZ: I mean, like if you look at the map that's in the book, they all kind of just live in the same neighborhood.

PAZ: I know.

LIZ: It's a very small community.

JULIAN: Tight knit.

PAZ: Wow. [laughing] Hi everyone. Welcome to Stairway to StarClan, a Warriors Cat reread pawdcast. I'm Paz.

JULIAN: I'm Julian.

LIZ: I'm Liz. Was that bonus content?

PAZ: No, that's cold open, baby.

LIZ: We gotta put some spoilers.

PAZ: I don't think Pinestar from the bonus novels is that much--

LIZ: What if people want to read the bonus novels?

PAZ: Well...

LIZ: You don't know.

PAZ: Too bad. Pinestar is described as "massive."

LIZ: Big boy.

JULIAN: Tigerclaw had to get it from somewhere.

PAZ: Yeah.

LIZ: What if Pinestar just looks like Bone Bone?

JULIAN: [yelps] Sorry about what that did to my audio.

LIZ: So Tigerclaw sees this little kittypet baby come into his home and is like, I'm going to have father issues right now.

PAZ: Yeah, apparently that's what happened.

LIZ: At this baby.

PAZ: That does seem to be the case, huh.

LIZ: That's so extremely funny.

PAZ: Oh, that's incredible. Well, we didn't read about Pinestar this week. We're still just reading Forest of Secrets. Um, what the fuck did we read? Chapter four through chapter six. Guys, there's a lot of secrets in this forest.

JULIAN: Yeah, this forest I would say is very secretive.

PAZ: Maybe there wouldn't be so much secrets if any of the cats talked to each other, but.

JULIAN: I think the cats should have a sharing circle. I know they have gatherings, and Bluestar calls them to hang out at the high rock or whatever. But I think they need more.

PAZ: Or even like an anonymous message board. They could just post things on a tree.

LIZ: They need Gossip Girl.

PAZ: [laughing] Gossip Girl.

JULIAN: Are you suggesting that the cats develop Yik Yak?

PAZ: Yes. I like Warriors Gossip Girl.

JULIAN: Warriors Gossip Girl is very good.

PAZ: I hope someone wrote that.

JULIAN: I hope someone did too.

LIZ: [typing] Warrior Cats Gossip Girl.

JULIAN: Pop on over to Warriors - Erin Hunter.

PAZ: Any hits?

JULIAN: Zero works found.

PAZ: Oh my god. Once again, we're putting out a call to action.

LIZ: There is a fan art, I think, or a regular art of someone called Ivypool from last year. But it's just captioned "xoxo, Gossip Girl."

PAZ: I think that must be a newer character. I don't remember them.

LIZ: Maybe she's the Gossip Girl.

PAZ: Or it could be an OC.

LIZ: Maybe someone's doing the thing that Warrior Cats needs, then. I support them.

PAZ: Yeah. Finally.

JULIAN: Sorry. I stumbled upon a fancast website. Someone has fancast John Boyega as Lionblaze.

PAZ: Oh my god. Stop, that's gonna make me have to like Lionblaze, who I think is so boring.

LIZ: These cats are British. I keep remembering that.

PAZ: That'd be a great VA, though. Let John Boyega voice some cats.

JULIAN: Fancasting suggestion made by totaltrashfiremammal.

PAZ: Great idea. Should we--

LIZ: What were we doing?

JULIAN: Let's--

PAZ: Wow. Distracted before we even said anything about what we read. Okay. Chapter four. Fireheart, Graystripe and Sandstorm are out hunting, and it looks like leafbare will be over soon. Fireheart sees Brackenpaw having fun with the other two and misses Cinderpaw, wishing she was still his apprentice. He catches a rabbit, and Bluestar says to bring it to Yellowfang, who is training Cinderpaw in medicine. He remembers Tigerclaw injuring Cinderpaw and how dangerous he is to the clan.

The next day, Fireheart and Graystripe sneak into RiverClan territory to talk to Silverstream to ask about Redtail and Oakheart. Silverstream says she wasn't there when he died, but brings her friend Mistyfoot, a gray cat who seems familiar to Fireheart, and who fought in the battle where Oakheart died. Mistyfoot confirms Ravenpaw's story about Oakheart dying in a rockfall accident and reveals that he was her father and that Stonefur is her brother. She says she can ask her mother Graypool, an elder now, to talk to him another time about what Oakheart said about Stonefur.

Chapter five. Fireheart returns to camp where everyone makes fun of him for being stinky, a disguise for smelling-- for covering up that he'd been in RiverClan. He sees Cloudkit impatiently asking Brindleface why he can't be an apprentice yet. Bluestar announces two new apprentices, Thornpaw and Brightpaw. Graystripe returns and says the meeting with Graypool is arranged for tomorrow.

The next day, Fireheart and Graystripe meet with Mistyfoot, Silverstream, and Graypool. Fireheart asks what Oakheart meant when he said no ThunderClan cat should ever harm Stonefur. Graypool asks the other cats to leave so she can speak to Fireheart alone. She reveals that she isn't Mistyfoot and Stonefur's biological mother and that Oakheart brought them to her as abandoned kits to raise. She said she didn't believe him and that she could tell back then that the kits smelled like ThunderClan.

Chapter six. Fireheart is shocked at what Graypool says, asking if Oakheart stole the kits. Graypool says Oakheart would never. She also says she raised Mistyfoot and Stonefur because she respected Oakheart and she didn't want their loyalty to be divided, and that she will rip out Fireheart's liver if he ever tells them. Graypool rules. He promises not to and is very respectful. She also says they never suspected anything, especially since they look so much like her (gray cats) which Fireheart thinks about briefly before forgetting.

Fireheart returns to camp and goes to talk to Bluestar, a gray cat, about what he's learned. He tells her about going to see Ravenpaw and the RiverClan she-cats, everything about Oakheart dying on accident, and how it means Tigerclaw was lying about killing him, and how dangerous Tigerclaw is to the clan. Bluestar seems thoughtful, but when Fireheart tells her that he learned about Mistyfoot and Stonefur, she gets angry and immediately dismisses him. She says to never bring it up again, that maybe Tigerclaw was right to doubt his loyalty, and Fireheart is bewildered, wondering if he's blown his chance to convince her. And that's the end of the readings this week.

LIZ: Gray is a very common color. It's kind of like--

PAZ: That's true. It is.

LIZ: It's the most neutral of the colors.

JULIAN: It could happen to anybody.

PAZ: They're not like fucking white cats.

LIZ: Or an orange cat.

PAZ: No, there's another orange. One of the new apprentices was orange, apparently.

LIZ: Yeah, orange and white. Seems to be more common than... I don't know. Get it together, ThunderClan.

PAZ: Well, that really just shows they're just cat racist because there are other orange and white cats in the clan.

JULIAN: I love Graypool.

LIZ: She's great.

JULIAN: Just got to get that right out there.

PAZ: Yeah, she's so good.

JULIAN: Cranky old grandma. I love her.

PAZ: I love all the old she-cats in this book. Yellowfang, now Graypool.

LIZ: They're all just like, oooh, my arthritis. You kids these days.

PAZ: She even says something like that.

JULIAN: Oh yeah, Fireheart brings her a mouse and she's like, well, I'm glad you're respectful at least, with this undertone of like, everyone else sucks.

PAZ: Yeah. Fireheart's bringing a gift for being allowed to stay over at her house.

LIZ: Fireheart brings her edible arrangements to Grandma. He's a nice young man. This is why he's the favorite of all the grandmas.

JULIAN: He is a nice young man.

PAZ: He is a good nice young man.

LIZ: Except for the President.

PAZ: Yeah, we'll get to Bluestar, but man.

LIZ: Listen, he's got like, what, three now? So it's okay.

PAZ: Um, but should we go back to the beginning of chapter four?

JULIAN: Yeah, this little hunting trip is cute. Brackenpaw starts defending Graystripe. And it's like he does not deserve you.

LIZ: No.

PAZ: Right. It made me really sad. I'm like, Graystripe has abandoned you like 80% of your apprenticeship.

LIZ: And that's such a long time when you're a cat. Brackenpaw's probably like 16 now in cat years.

JULIAN: That's a nice young man.

PAZ: That is a nice young man, and he deserves a better teacher.

LIZ: Maybe Sandstorm will be his teacher.

PAZ: Yeah, I don't know if Gray-- Graypelt-- fuck. Graystripe.

LIZ: Lots of gray cats.

PAZ: I forgot his name. I wanted to banish him from my mind. I don't even know if Graystripe is training him still, even.

JULIAN: Yeah, it's like is Brackenpaw like-- does he have the skills he needs to become a warrior? Is he gonna pass the cat SATs?

PAZ: I don't know.

LIZ: What's that thing you do when you have like the self guided study thing, but it's in high school?

JULIAN: An independent study?

LIZ: You know what I mean? Yeah, maybe he just has that, but it's like his whole day.

PAZ: What he has is like five different teachers, none of whom are Graystripe.

JULIAN: It takes a village. Ugh.

PAZ: Also very important, in this chapter in the scene after the hunting, there's a description of Yellowfang loafing.

LIZ: Yes.

JULIAN: Oh, yes. Yes. Yes!

LIZ: Oh my god.

PAZ: It was like one line, but I was like, oh my god. Picturing it.

LIZ: She's just like, little old lady loaf.

PAZ: She'd look like a cloud with all that fur.

LIZ: Oh my god.

JULIAN: Oh!

LIZ: Yellowfang, another gray cat.

JULIAN: I want to scrumble her so bad.

PAZ: She would bite your hand off.

JULIAN: I know. It would be worth it.

LIZ: She'd be real slow, though. She's a little old lady.

JULIAN: Yeah, maybe she doesn't have all her teeth. Maybe I'd be fine.

PAZ: Oh my god. Yeah, there's another description of Graypool. I think that's other old lady RiverClan cat, where it mentioned like all her broken teeth. Her little old missing lady teeth.

LIZ: Aw.

JULIAN: [wails]

LIZ: Maybe Yellowfang is, despite her name, she's like Chloe. She's just like, no teeth.

JULIAN: Bluestar is gonna have to rename her to Nofang.

PAZ: No.

LIZ: No! Bluestar's so bad at this.

JULIAN: God.

PAZ: I think Bluestar does a real bad renaming soon. Maybe in the next book. I think it's coming up. So yeah, Bluestar does suck at this.

JULIAN: Yeah, she has some-- pretty few jobs. She has a lot of jobs. But she doesn't do great at the one she has.

LIZ: No.

PAZ: No. Really does not. Yeah, I mean, but in the medicine den is like Cinderpaw and Yellowfang. And they have very cute interactions, but Fireheart's man pain.

JULIAN: Oh my god.

PAZ: And like guilt.

LIZ: God.

PAZ: It's never ending. I'm like, Can you just shut up?

JULIAN: It's like every other sentence, just like, oh, what she could have had. But tragedy took it from us.

LIZ: Oh my God.

PAZ: It's really frustrating because like, that's just like, what he's been like, if he hadn't been thinking that, Cinderpaw seems like she's having a fine time. But he's still hung up on that.

LIZ: His man pain's really typical. Because it's like, I wish I could spend more time with basically my daughter. Time to go.

JULIAN: Yeah. It's like, oh, if only there were something I could do to make this poor child's life easier. Bye! I thought about how sad it made me, and that's the same as doing something.

LIZ: I wish I had a nice relationship with my child. Gotta go.

JULIAN: Cinderpaw and Brackenpaw should talk.

PAZ: Yeah, they got some deadbeat teachers in differing ways here.

LIZ: Maybe they do. And we just don't see it because we're only seeing it from Fireheart's point of view, and he's never there.

PAZ: That's true.

JULIAN: God. Yeah, I mean, sort of on that note, I think, Liz, you pointed out that, like, the narration uses the word cripple to talk about her a lot.

LIZ: Yeah.

JULIAN: Which is like, yikes. But I think in a lot of ways that kind of fits with the like, the tone that Fireheart has of this sort of like paternalistic, like, oh, poor Cinderpaw. Poor, helpless Cinderpaw. Like I think just sort of doing a quick look into the history of the word, like a lot of disabled people have either reclaimed it or consider it a slur. But also, like, its history is very much one of like, being tied to like, really paternalistic, like, oh, we gotta save the poor children. And like not viewing people, disabled people as like, adults with agency, or people who will become adults with agency.

LIZ: It's kind of sad and interesting that this is also like, it's the narrative's point of view, right? This is what the reader is supposed to think as well.

JULIAN: Yeah, definitely.

PAZ: Because, like, if this had been on purpose, and would be like, investigating and critiqued at some point, it'd be very, like, accurate, sort of depiction of the way people treat disabled people. But it's not.

LIZ: No.

JULIAN: It is an accurate depiction of the ways that-- [laughter]

PAZ: Because they're just not thinking about it. It's just like the societal, like, views of the author just coming through.

JULIAN: Yeah. I'm glad that Cinderpaw has Yellowfang at least. Like their relationship is really good.

LIZ: Yeah, they're really sweet.

PAZ: Yellowfang would be such a cool teacher to have.

LIZ: She's one, around. She sticks up for Cinderpaw a lot, too, which is nice. And I know a lot is um, comparatively low bar compared to everyone else. I'm glad to see it.

JULIAN: It also seems like she's like, hey, like, you know, you're like a very energetic young cat. Let's find you something to do.

PAZ: Yeah, like, she assigns tasks to Cinderpaw. She's not like Fireheart, where it's like, no, Cinderpaw, she can't do anything now. That scene does make Fireheart remember, though, that Tigerclaw's evil. He has to keep being reminded.

LIZ: I know it's like--

JULIAN: I think he should get some post it notes.

PAZ: That's what I'm saying.

LIZ: The way it's written, it seems like-- it feels like he forgets and it just comes back now and then in a way that's like, very accurately cat like. I know it's like-- cause it's for the reader, right? It's like, oh, this happened like two books ago, but.

PAZ: I'll give him points. He takes the last step. He does a lot of investigative work this set of chapters.

JULIAN: He does. He's doing his little detective routine.

PAZ: Yeah, he's a regular Sherlock Holmes here.

LIZ: Don't you mean Purrlock Holmes?

JULIAN: Oh.

LIZ: He's a regular gumpaw.

PAZ: Aw.

JULIAN: Aw. I do have to critique his plan when they're like, oh, we have to go into RiverClan territory and hide out for Silverstream.

PAZ: Yes.

LIZ: Yeah.

JULIAN: Both of us.

PAZ: The note--

JULIAN: Like, you couldn'ta just met her at Fourtrees and asked her there?

PAZ: The note I wrote in my notes was "Fireheart back to being dumb here. Proximity to Graystripe."

[laughter]

JULIAN: Oh.

PAZ: Yeah, I guess in fiction the reason for that was like, he's like, [gruffly] I can't wait. But I think he could have waited maybe a little.

LIZ: Is that what he sounds like in your head?

PAZ: I don't know. Yeah, maybe he's like-- I feel like he'd have that like shonen boy protag like voice conviction.

JULIAN: I do-- the description of Silverstream is so funny.

LIZ: It is.

PAZ: Spottedleaf, move aside.

LIZ: Can we get a read on her description? It's really good.

JULIAN: Yeah. "Fireheart watched the RiverClan she-cat stepping delicately across the ice toward the bank. She was certainly beautiful, he realized, with a finely shaped head, and thick, sleek fur. No wonder Graystripe was captivated by her." Finely-shaped head?!

PAZ: The authors are trying so hard on how to write cat attractiveness.

JULIAN: What makes a cat sexy? Is it the head shape? I think it's the head shape. I mean, like, I would rather it be a finely shaped head than like her curvy butt or whatever.

LIZ: I know how that would happen, though. It would be like her finely shaped rump or something.

JULIAN: Her like sinuous flanks.

LIZ: Ew.

PAZ: Yeah, it's funny, but it's way better than what could be.

LIZ: Do you think they're gonna hit like their stride later, and it's just gonna be oh, she had beautiful fur and luminous eyes, and then you can just stop.

PAZ: Probably. There's a lot of cat romance in these books. They got to get practice. Shout outs to RiverClan for having an island that they live on?

LIZ: Yeah, that's really good.

PAZ: That's so defensible.

JULIAN: Yeah, it's good as hell.

PAZ: Nobody's invading them.

JULIAN: They're the only ones who can swim.

PAZ: Meanwhile, WindClan's just sleeping in a hollow in the hills. No wonder they've been attacked twice.

LIZ: Someone please save these cats.

PAZ: I'm gonna go build those cats a house.

JULIAN: Also shout out to Mistyfoot for being sort of the beleaguered best friend.

PAZ: Oh my god. Yeah, I did love that vibe.

LIZ: Isn't she like a mom? Did I read that wrong?

PAZ: No, Mistyfoot, I think is like, kind of maybe like a little older than Silverstream, I think?

LIZ: Maybe I'm just confused by all the mom stuff happening. I could have sworn she's like, I have to get back to my kits.

PAZ: She's the one who says Graypool was-- oh, maybe. I don't know. Maybe she did.

JULIAN: I think she might have mentioned kits. Hold up. I don't see that. But I might be missing it.

PAZ: I'm looking.

LIZ: It's not super important.

PAZ: Yeah, she does mention I've left my kits.

LIZ: Oh, okay, good.

PAZ: I think her and Silverstream are like peers.

LIZ: Yeah, I just mentioned it because it's very funny to have your best friend, who is the president's daughter, just be like okay, I've gotta go meet up with my boyfriend, who is from the enemy clan, and also his friend. And we're gonna talk about all this secret shit. And it's just like, I'm living my normal life.

PAZ: She's in her own YA novel.

LIZ: She is down, though. She's like, okay, I'll bring my mom to talk to you enemy cats.

PAZ: Yeah, she's surprisingly chill. You know, Julian, I can see why you might have liked RiverClan as a kid. There's a lot of cool she-cats in RiverClan. I'll give them that.

JULIAN: I think it was also just like RiverClan was my clan for my RP OC, so it's a lot of sort of reflected affection.

LIZ: Like aesthetically, also, it's a very cool one. And also I'll give it to you if not Graystripe.

PAZ: I can't remember who the cat in the New Prophecy for RiverClan was.

LIZ: Fishtail.

PAZ: No, hold on, I'm looking.

LIZ: Swimfoot.

JULIAN: Salmonbelly.

PAZ: Warriors wiki, where are you?

LIZ: Salmonbelly was born with a very pink tummy.

PAZ: Can I-- who the fuck was it?

JULIAN: Stormfur?

PAZ: Maybe.

JULIAN: Never mind.

PAZ: Feathertail?

LIZ: Butterflystroke.

PAZ: Okay, Feathertail was from-- I don't remember this book. Who are you people?

JULIAN: Okay, Feathertail is a RiverClan.

PAZ: They're fucking point of view characters? I don't remember these people. Wow.

LIZ: That makes sense. You said they do like to have more cats per book later on or something.

PAZ: Yeah, yeah, the following series, I think everything since the first series has like rotating POV characters.

LIZ: Sounds fun.

PAZ: Wow, I can't believe I just don't remember this.

JULIAN: I read the whole New Prophecy and I don't remember any of this.

PAZ: I did too. It was my favorite. I remember-- I mean, okay, I remember like, obviously, like Brambleclaw, Squirrelflight, Leafpool, Crowfeather, Ashfur. What book were Stormfur and Feathertail? Apparently they didn't leave a big impression on me.

LIZ: I'm excited to get to it, just--

PAZ: Oh, I love the New Prophecy. I think it still might be my favorite out of the three series I've read.

LIZ: Is it the second one, right? So we're three books away. Is that right? Three?

PAZ: I have no idea.

LIZ: How many--

JULIAN: Yeah, cause there's six per series.

LIZ: That's an afternoon of reading.

JULIAN: Yeah, slam right through em. This is a little bit unrelated. And I don't know if we have more to talk about with this first meeting. But the image of Fireheart showing up to these kits' naming ceremonies absolutely covered in shit.

PAZ: Literally, it's very funny.

JULIAN: Reeking.

PAZ: I like that Sandstorm just teases him.

JULIAN: Yeah, it's really cute.

PAZ: They're very cute together.

JULIAN: Yeah. It's just like the image of like, you know, your shitty cousin arrives at your kindergarten graduation, like covered in feces. No one will sit near him.

LIZ: But he's very supportive. God, is he gonna take a bath?

PAZ: I guess-- I guess so.

JULIAN: How is he gonna? Is he gonna like go in the river?

PAZ: Wasn't there something in the last book where he--

JULIAN: Is he gonna have to lick his shit off himself?

PAZ: No, no, there was something in the last book where he also had to go in the river to wash off something.

JULIAN: Oh, that's right. He had-- it was mouse bile.

LIZ: Ew.

PAZ: Yeah, that was the first book so yes, they did do that.

LIZ: All right, thank god.

PAZ: Not just gonna lick that off. Yeah.

LIZ: So this advice was from Graystripe. Do you think every time he's got to take a bath he's like, ohhh, my forbidden romance requires me to roll in feces and then take a bath, two of the things that I hate as a cat.

PAZ: He's dedicated. That's my nice comment about Graystripe for the day.

LIZ: Is it true love until you-- I can't finish the sentence.

PAZ: Yeah, there's a naming ceremony. I couldn't tell if they were really big babies because they were like Cinderpaw and Brackenfur's siblings. But I was like, are they from the same litter? Why are they so big?

JULIAN: Yeah, I don't know.

PAZ: Bluestar's always going on about how we need more warriors and then she's not making people warriors. She's not making people apprentices.

JULIAN: Just a sec.

PAZ: Okay.

JULIAN: Sorry.

PAZ: What was it?

JULIAN: It was mango pomelo cheese tea.

LIZ: Ooh.

PAZ: Ooh. Damn.

JULIAN: It is very good.

PAZ: That is important to try.

LIZ: Damn, I want something-- I want a fancy drink.

JULIAN: Naming ceremony. Bluestar's inability to move her kits along the path at any sort of rate.

PAZ: I'm really starting to have questions about Bluestar's ability to lead.

LIZ: What happened to the girlboss of our dreams?

PAZ: Well, it's just Graypool now.

JULIAN: Although I guess--

LIZ: But she's retired.

JULIAN: They can't become apprentices until they're six months old. How often can cats have litters?

LIZ: This is so crucial.

JULIAN: Oh my god. "Once pregnant, a cat's gestation period is roughly two months, making it possible for her to birth as many as five litters a year."

PAZ: Oh my gosh.

LIZ: Ahh!

PAZ: Holy shit.

JULIAN: So it could be just another litter.

PAZ: Yeah, I guess so. Nevermind. Yeah, cause they could just be like two months younger.

JULIAN: God, that's horrifying.

PAZ: What a nightmare.

LIZ: That's scary. I am looking at six month old kittens for just like reference. This is a pretty big cat. Gonna show you a little baby. Or I will if I can copy paste anything correctly. Yeah.

PAZ: That's a full cat there.

JULIAN: Oh yeah. That's a little boy.

LIZ: Yeah. So that means Cloudkit's even bigger than this.

PAZ: No, no, no, Cloudkit's younger.

LIZ: Right? I mean, like, yeah, he's younger, but he says he's like, bigger, right?

PAZ: Does he?

JULIAN: He does, but I get the sense that we're not supposed to take that seriously.

LIZ: It's all fluff. He poofs himself up real big.

PAZ: Aw.

JULIAN: Oh, buddy.

LIZ: Or he's just like a big baby. Which is also good to me.

PAZ: That'd be great. After that naming ceremony though is the Graypool scene where, very funny. The scene where like Silverstream and Mistyfoot were walking her out on her little grandma walk.

JULIAN: I love her. Also the scandal here that she reveals.

PAZ: Oh, yes.

JULIAN: Absolutely incredible.

PAZ: Very big gasp moment.

LIZ: She's pretty casual about it. She's just like, yeah, I'll tell you. Everyone else leave.

PAZ: It's because Fireheart brought her a mouse. He's a nice young boy.

LIZ: You seem like an upstanding gentleman. You're my grandson now.

JULIAN: It's the one mouse per secret rule.

LIZ: If you give her like 10 mice, two per day, you get up to her, what, 10 hearts event? Where she just legally adopts you as her grandchild.

PAZ: Oh, perfect.

JULIAN: Perfect.

PAZ: Yeah, she really did-- before she said like, okay, everyone else leave, she looked at Fireheart for a really long time. I think she was perceiving his protagonist halo.

JULIAN: She can see it.

PAZ: And she's like, oh, okay, everyone else get out.

LIZ: She's like, that's a really orange cat.

JULIAN: God, this bit about when Fireheart is like, oh, did he steal the cats? Oakheat is not a kit stealer!

LIZ: God.

PAZ: He's not in Megaboneclan. Don't even imply it. I wonder if that's where they got the idea from?

JULIAN: Maybe.

PAZ: Fascinating.

JULIAN: I feel like there's like a lot of a lot of kit stealing throughout the books. There was some in--

PAZ: Oh, you're right. There was.

JULIAN: Earlier, too.

PAZ: You're right. I just keep forgetting about that.

JULIAN: I mean, it was like, all things considered, fairly minor as far as like, plot repercussions.

LIZ: They seem just like normal cats now. They're not like-- they didn't grow up evil. They didn't grow up, like, very sad. They just kind of--

PAZ: Yeah, Graypool's whole thing is like, don't tell them because I don't want them to feel conflicted suddenly. And I think Fireheart had like a good character moment where he's like, oh, I like totally understand how that feels and I don't think they should have to deal with that.

LIZ: I did like--

JULIAN: I mean, yeah. I think that she should tell them they're adopted, but.

PAZ: Well, considering that like--

JULIAN: But considering the circumstances.

PAZ: Everyone's at war constantly and hates each other, maybe, maybe not.

LIZ: And they've got some sort of weird blood purity thing sometimes.

JULIAN: God.

LIZ: I think they personally seem well adjusted enough and have a nice mom that they'd be like, oh, you're still our mom. Thank you. Sad about all of that we're from an enemy clan that seems to be doing some real shit right now, but.

PAZ: Yeah, but if other RiverClan cats found out.

JULIAN: Yeah, that would be bad.

PAZ: That might be bad. After that Graypool scene is the Bluestar scene, I think.

JULIAN: Yeah. Fireheart learns from his earlier mistakes and is like, I'm gonna tell Bluestar right away so I don't forget.

PAZ: Good. Good start.

JULIAN: I don't get distracted. Which, you know, good. And then it goes real bad.

LIZ: Well, it's at least it's not his fault this time. He did the best he could.

PAZ: Yeah, he has a very solid case laid out. Like with multiple witnesses and sources. But Bluestar's like, own personal drama makes her a real like, dumb ass about this.

JULIAN: Yeah, she completely shuts down. And Fireheart is blaming himself, which I don't think he should.

LIZ: No.

PAZ: Yeah. Yeah, like the moment he mentions the RiverClan cats, that's when she shuts him down.

LIZ: Maybe she is just threatened by these coincidentally, like gray cats. She's like, oh, another gray cat? Two other gray cats? What if they want my presidency? No other reasons.

JULIAN: That who is that other dog comic, but.

PAZ: Yeah, poor Fireheart He's trying so hard to stop everyone from getting murdered-- specifically Bluestar from getting murdered. Like she's top of the murder list.

JULIAN: I know.

PAZ: And she is just thwarting his every move.

LIZ: She's got big about to like get fridged energy.

PAZ: It's like, then perish. If you're not gonna listen to him, then perish.

LIZ: Fireheart is constantly just like throwing himself in front of her like, get down Miss President.

PAZ: She stands up.

JULIAN: I described Bluestar as a girl boss earlier, and Han was like, oh, does she like also gatekeep and gaslight? And yes, she does.

PAZ: Oh, she sure does.

LIZ: She does. Mm-hmm.

PAZ: She's in prime form this chapter. Yeah, okay, here's a-- I'll just read to give you that flavor. "Bluestar let out a long breath. All the interest she had shown before had vanished, leaving her expression cold and remote. 'Go,' she ordered. 'Find yourself something useful to do, something that befits a warrior and never, never mention this to me again. Do you understand?'"

LIZ: Oh shit.

PAZ: It's like, ma'am.

JULIAN: Sorry, his ending little thing is like, "thistles and thorns, he thought."

PAZ: Yeah, it's very very cute.

JULIAN: Which is really cute.

LIZ: That's so cute little. They're little guys.

JULIAN: Yeah, their little cat figures of speech.

PAZ: There was another one in this set of chapters that was something like, darker than a crow's wing or something like that. Just good stuff.

LIZ: I think that's the whole chapter then, right?

PAZ: Yeah. It is. It was a pretty juicy set of chapters. Lots of just-- but it's all kind of around like the same stuff. Just that RiverClan investigation.

JULIAN: That kit parentage.

LIZ: I like the way the conflict is like continuing. It feels very frustrating to read. But it's like, yeah, it would be frustrating. This is good escalation, I guess. It's like you have all of the info that you were looking for for your little murder mystery investigation. But like, now there's this different stuff happening.

PAZ: Yeah, I'm just really appreciating how well these books are written like, for kids novels, because I'm still rereading Uglies. And like, it's a good novel, and I'm enjoying it, but it feels like more clumsily handled, like the way plot beats are set up, like the way all the Chekhov's guns items are put in place and come back. But the Warriors is just like-- it's very well plotted and paced when stuff comes up.

LIZ: I think it definitely benefits from having a team to do it, right.

PAZ: Yeah, for sure. And I think they're all like experienced authors. I mean, I could be wrong, but I'm pretty-- at least I think Vicki Holmes is the one. I'm pretty sure she was like writing before. And then they tapped her to write the series.

JULIAN: I think Cherith Baldry is the one who actually wrote this one. Or like the main writer for this one. But she'd also written like, a bunch of different fantasy series before this.

PAZ: Yeah, exactly.

JULIAN: And I think also, just like, something I really like about these books is there's a really good sense of cat politics. Like, there's a sense that this is a larger world and there's a lot of forces at play, some of which we see and like, some of which we don't, so that when stuff kind of comes in or out, you know, it feels like there's stuff happening off screen that is affecting the plot that we don't necessarily see, in like a good way.

PAZ: Yeah. Like I mean, like we were mentioning how Mistyfoot felt like the beleaguered best friend character. Like she was in so few scenes, but like the sense of that really came across well. There really is a sense that like, there is other stuff going on with like, the other clans.

LIZ: There's this part, um, when Graystripe and Silverstream are like okay, we're gonna fuck off now. Go have fun with your meeting. And Fireheart doesn't even get to talk much, but Mistyfoot is like, don't worry, I won't eat you.

PAZ: I am excited to see what happens in this book.

JULIAN: Me too. See some more secrets.

LIZ: Will any of these secrets come out? Will more secrets be created? Who knows? This is my tagline for the book.

PAZ: What do you think the next secret will be, Liz?

LIZ: Fireheart is Tigerclaw's dad. He's a time traveler.

JULIAN: Oh shit.

LIZ: But he's got amnesia.

PAZ: Oh shit. It's like time traveling Dumbledore.

LIZ: He got reset to baby age. That's how they don't know.

PAZ: My God.

JULIAN: The power of StarClan. As the prophecies foretold.

PAZ: They said, you didn't kill your kit the first time. Go do it again.

LIZ: Oh shit.

JULIAN: Yeet you right on back.

PAZ: Wow. That rules.

LIZ: Wow.

PAZ: Well, I can't wait to see that happen. I guess unless anyone has anything else to add, that's it for the book discussion segment.

JULIAN: Yeah, I don't have anything else to add.

[meow]

PAZ: All right. So, God. I don't know what episode it was. It was around when we were discussing the Barnes and Noble RP community that we also found that like within Goodreads groups there's a thriving Warriors community. So I was clicking around some of those threads. Lots of good stuff in there. Also a lot of groups that are just like two people, and I hope that went well for them.

JULIAN: I support them.

LIZ: That just feels like the natural habitat, you know?

PAZ: Yeah, it's definitely like someone and their friend just made a Goodreads group together. Good for them.

LIZ: So good.

PAZ: But I found a great thread that is titled "What's in a name? Warrior names, do's and don'ts."

JULIAN: This is-- I just want to let our audience know, this is divided into a prologue, a second prologue, chapter before the chapter, chapter one, chapter two, chapters one through five.

LIZ: I love this.

PAZ: This is serious stuff.

JULIAN: Mod Peyton here is very clear about what needs to be done and what does not need to be done.

PAZ: Do you want to read the intro?

JULIAN: Sure. "Prologue, understanding Warriors. It's rather disheartening to see role players creating outrageous names. Carrotkit, Blueberryfang, Sneezeheart and Scrabblepaw, to name some randomly selected examples."

LIZ: Those are so good.

JULIAN: "No matter how original they seem to be." What does Peyton have against good names?

PAZ: I feel like this is specific beef. I don't know if he's randomly selected.

JULIAN: This is 100% specific beef.

LIZ: Blueberryfang. Someone out there, ugh.

PAZ: I love Sneezeheart.

LIZ: Who's the medicine cat from ShadowClan again?

PAZ: Runningnose?

JULIAN: Oh, Runningnose?

LIZ: Yeah.

PAZ: Right?

LIZ: That's the same.

JULIAN: "There's a very specific reason why Warrior Cats are given the names they have, and it's much more obvious than people make it out to be. For one, we'll start early on in warrior lore. To be a warrior, a cat must be generous and must understand self sacrifice because the foundation of the warrior code is, essentially, the clan comes first. If that fact is disregarded, it could be said that the cat is no longer a warrior or doesn't understand the ways of warriorhood." And that's why you never have any evil Warrior Cats.

PAZ: None.

JULIAN: "This is the purpose of apprenticeship, to teach the warrior in training not only to hunt and fight, but to serve the clan as a true warrior." Well, fuck Brackenpaw then. "It isn't a good name that makes a warrior, but the character of the cat. However, with a good name, every other cat will know just how well they behave or how highly revered they are in the clan. This is why Deathfang or Boneclaw is unacceptable."

LIZ: Boneclaw.

PAZ: Why?

JULIAN: "This disregards not only the warrior code but reality, or rather, Warrior Cat reality."

PAZ: Reality?!

LIZ: Boneclaw.

JULIAN: "We'll discuss this soon enough in the following chapters."

PAZ: You can't say Deathfang and Boneclaw are unacceptable when there's fucking Brokenstar and Tigerclaw.

JULIAN: Brokenstar and Crookedstar and Nightstar.

LIZ: Boneclaw's so good. I'm so mad that no one is legally allowed to use it.

PAZ: If you use that, Peyton will fucking track you down, so don't even think about it.

LIZ: Come at me, Peyton. Here's my Goodreads at.

JULIAN: "A warrior is an honorable, respectable cat, and one of the best ways to represent that reputation is a good name. Below are a few examples, before I show you just how it works." Oh. "Sandstorm. Sandkit undoubtedly describes a very pale kitten, an obvious name to give a pale ginger cat at birth."

PAZ: She's not ginger! I refuse.

JULIAN: "As Sandpaw grew up, she developed a very harsh and spiteful personality." She did not!

PAZ: I don't think so.

JULIAN: "Which we can see is illustrated in her warrior name, Sandstorm. Sand being rough illustrates your personality in being both unfriendly and rude."

PAZ: What?

JULIAN: "So therefore Sandstorm is a pale ginger tabby, with a habit of being very snappy and blunt." Peyton, I have some beef!

PAZ: I think there's a little misogyny happening here.

JULIAN: Have you heard of tsundere?

PAZ: That too. Oh my god. She is not.

JULIAN: She's not rude.

PAZ: I mean, being blunt is not the same as being rude.

JULIAN: She's also very nice to a lot of cats.

PAZ: Yeah, I mean, she's unfriendly and rude like in the first book. That's about it, and they were all like teens, so. Ugh.

JULIAN: God. "Fireheart. Firepaw, as Bluestar stated, was named for his fiery coat that held the light of a blazing fire when the sun was upon it. His suffix, Bluestar also explained somewhat and not in depth, represents his caring personality. He cared for every cat, every clan, and made it obvious, even if it broke the rules of being a warrior. He wasn't afraid to support and take care of others, which meant he had heart-- a very brave and considerate heart. Fireheart, therefore, represents a dark ginger tom with a passionate personality."

PAZ: Thank you, Peyton.

JULIAN: "But there are other options in naming a warrior. For example, Goldenflower. This name describes two things: a cat, and a flower. The flower we know is yellow and the cat we know is golden and very motherly. The double meaning is a step ahead of the former names."

PAZ: Wow.

JULIAN: "Mentioning the cat and an object that represents them for what they look like and how they behave."

PAZ: The layers. The layers to warrior names.

LIZ: Yep.

JULIAN: "This isn't a very common way to name warriors because it is a very delicate process."

LIZ: Oh my god.

JULIAN: "But it can sometimes be the most highly revered and best way to consider. This is very similar to the names above, but don't get them confused. The former names describe the cat's appearance and personality separately and do not denote a second image found in nature. Sandstorm could be considered iffy, but it denotes her personality as sandstorms don't occur in heavily forested or grassy areas like where the cats live."

PAZ: Oh my god. It just goes on and on about like this.

JULIAN: Yep. Oh, they do mention Brokentail/Brokenstar, with their own explanations.

PAZ: Oh my god, hold on. I gotta read the legendary cats section. The second paragraph takes you out. "Everyone's heard of the legendary cat clans, LeopardClan, TigerClan, and LionClan, and cats do get prefixes from these particular cats. No, these clans did not and do not exist where the current four clans live, and are merely myths that the cats can tell. They're inspirational stories, sort of like nursery rhymes for kids today. We can safely assume that because leopards, tigers, and lions are real cats, and that because domestic cats such as ferals have lineage in them." I don't think they do. I don't think that's how the evolution happened.

JULIAN: That's not how genes work.

PAZ: That's not how it works.

LIZ: What? No.

PAZ: "That the Clans would understand what they were. It's completely acceptable to name your cat after one of the clans because they're not sacred or spiritual. Think of them as naming your little boy John, Abraham, or Matthew, if you catch my drift. They're good names for a strong representation of ancestry and appearance and work really well for traditional canon cats."

JULIAN: Tigerclaw has become Catholic this time.

PAZ: He sure fucking has.

LIZ: Can we please look at the don'ts in chapter four?

PAZ: Okay, let me scroll all the way down. Oh wait.

JULIAN: Hold up.

LIZ: Wait, wait, wait.

JULIAN: We got a cat genetics chapter.

PAZ: Wait, before that, before that. "Naming generators. Do not trust these with anything, whether it's a generator on the official Warriors site or the one on Warriors Wish."

LIZ: Ooh.

JULIAN: "Do not use these. The combinations are very poor, and needless to say, they do not follow rules of traditionalism. Names from generators are also less personal and meaningful, and it is not suggested that anyone use them." That is all in bold and underlined.

LIZ: Wow. And italics.

PAZ: Yes. Okay, continue. I think genetics is next.

JULIAN: Genetics is next. Peyton has some issues with the canon cat genetics. "Black cats cannot have blue eyes unless there's some amount of white on them. The genetics for creating the light eye gene is not found in solid black cats, and therefore is not plausible. This means that, realistically speaking, Crowfeather is not a plausible character, given his appearance."

PAZ: Crowfeather's been canceled.

LIZ: Wow.

JULIAN: "Tabbies can have blue eyes. It is not common, but genetics allow for it if the cat is of a certain breed. Hawkfrost is plausible. Violet-eyed cats are extremely rare, even more rare than tortie toms. This does not make playing a violet-eyed cat in the wild a common feat or something that should really be considered, but it is possible."

LIZ: Is it possible?

JULIAN: Finally, in bold.

PAZ: Oh my god.

JULIAN: "Tortie toms are rare and cannot live in the wild. They have very weak immune systems, are sterile, and without human/Twoleg care and medications cannot survive."

PAZ: Holy shit.

JULIAN: Okay.

LIZ: Wow, rude.

JULIAN: Cat magic? Fine. Violet-eyed cat? Fuck you.

LIZ: Tortoiseshell toms? Get the fuck out of here.

PAZ: Banned from the forum. Banned.

LIZ: Are purple eyes real? Even if it's just a shade of blue? I don't think so.

PAZ: I don't think so. I've certainly--

LIZ: I'm only seeing photoshopped cats.

PAZ: They got that Alexandria's Genesis or whatever.

LIZ: Purple eyes, white hair, does not poop.

JULIAN: Yeah, animalpath.org says, "you may have heard rumors about cats with purple eyes, but there is no known evidence of cats with purple eyes, although lighting conditions can make a blue-eyed cat's eyes appear purplish or blue violet."

LIZ: Peyton!

JULIAN: "Rare albino cats can have lilac-colored eyes, with the lilac being a soft pale shade of purple."

LIZ: What? Okay, Peyton, all right. I've got to see this. I'm only getting photoshops.

JULIAN: Yeah, I've looked this up.

LIZ: The second result I'm getting is from Warrior Cats. Warrior Cat Pelt and Eye Colors wiki.

JULIAN: This is the Photoshop.

PAZ: Oh my god. Sorry. I'm down to chapter three, the do's. "There are small things to keep in mind as far as grammar is concerned. Names are compound words. So that means names like One-eye will be hyphenated to separate the repeated letters so that it reads One dash eye. The Erins don't always do this, but that doesn't mean it's okay not to." Jesus.

LIZ: God. That's a lot of like, conjunctions.

PAZ: Does somebody want to read the don'ts?

LIZ: Yes.

PAZ: Yes.

LIZ: It's really long. Oh, it's so long.

JULIAN: We can split it up. We don't have to read the whole thing. Or we can have people tag in and out.

LIZ: Okay, I can start. "Chapter four, the don't. What don't you do in a name? There are tons of things you don't do in a name. We'll start small and work our way up. Well, not necessarily. There's no starting small in the don't section. These are basic but unwritten rules. Some of them the Erins have said. Some of them have been observed, but all apply. One, the moon, sun, and stars are sacred to the cats. These objects or variations of the objects are not to be used in names. The moon, sun, and stars are sacred. It's why star is only allowed at the end of the leaders' names. This is a rule I'll repeat over and over if I have to get it across. Examples of unacceptable names: Moonfur, Sunclaw, Starkit. This also applies to names that expand on the above: Lunarfur, Solarclaw, Eclipseheart, Crescentpaw."

JULIAN: Damn. Sorry to rain on Peyton's parade, but there is in fact a canonical Moonflower, so.

PAZ: I'm starting to doubt Peyton's authority on the subject.

LIZ: Peyton, debate me.

JULIAN: Meet me in Fourtrees. Debate me in the marketplace of ideas.

LIZ: "Eclipse especially is a no go. An eclipse not only happens rarely but when it does happen, the result that it has on the warriors are catastrophic. So no sensible queen would name her kit after an event that leaves all shaking in fear." I think it'd be really metal. You should do that, actually.

PAZ: Yeah, like what if you're goth, and you're like, I want my evil baby.

LIZ: Boneeclipse!

JULIAN: What do you think Peyton's stance on cats with wings is?

PAZ: Kill on sight. No mercy. Mosey down.

LIZ: Who wants to-- we can go through this by numbers, I guess.

PAZ: Sure. "Two. Due to the fact that dreams are held in high regard and are sacred in the ways of warriors, no variation on the word dream is to be used. This applies to the word itself and synonyms or similar words: wish, hope, muse, desire, etc. Examples of unacceptable names: Morningdream, Dreamkit, Wishinggaze, Musemind."

JULIAN: Sorry, we got a Wishkit. Oh shit. Wishkit was one of Yellowfang's kits who died.

LIZ: No.

PAZ: Oh no. I guess they died because it was an unacceptable name.

LIZ: StarClan saw the fucking birth certificate and was like fuck, no. No way. This baby? No.

PAZ: Struck down with thunder. Do you want to read the next one, Julian?

JULIAN: Yeah. "Spiritual connotations, both in the human world and cat world, are not to be used. Words such as spirit, soul, and angel denote higher levels of being, an honor not worthy of warriors."

PAZ: What?

LIZ: What?!

JULIAN: "This is only allowed for leaders through the use of star, as a suffix, to represent their connection with StarClan. Vicky has stated that spirit, soul, and other similar words would not make it primarily because of their human connotations with certain religions, which means spirit and soul are Twoleg words that warrior cats would not know about, despite contrary belief. Examples of unacceptable names."

PAZ: Holy shit, the third one in this list.

JULIAN: "Spiritsong, Angelwing, Demonsythe, and Soulflight."

LIZ: These are metal. You should use them.

PAZ: I love Demonsythe so much.

JULIAN: Please name your cat Demonsythe. Also the fact that Demonsythe-- scythe is not spelled with a C here.

PAZ: It is not.

JULIAN: This is definitely an OC. Like this is someone's cat. Someone made a Demonsythe, and Peyton said, fuck off.

LIZ: Demonsythe, if you're out there, come on our podcast. This whole-- are they saying that cats can't reach higher levels of being like humans?

PAZ: I think like they're saying is that only when you're dead. Cause warriors are the live cats, I guess.

LIZ: Okay, I thought this was gonna be like the weird thing where it's like, humans get heaven, and then like animals get like a lower heaven or something.

PAZ: Oh no.

LIZ: Do Christians do that? I wouldn't know.

PAZ: I don't know, maybe it is. Do you wanna read the next one, Liz?

LIZ: Oh, okay. I need to recover myself after Demonsythe. "Four, words that tend to be seen as disrespectful in their literal sense are not to be used. Cats are literal in their naming and do not use hidden messages. This means--"

JULIAN: You just said that Goldenflower was a metaphor.

LIZ: "This means that names that include words such as hollow, any variation of the word fall, burning, searing, singed, shattered, twisted, broken."

PAZ: Broken?!

LIZ: Hey. Listen.

PAZ: Hello?

LIZ: Hey, wait. Debate me! I've got some good-- I've got the wiki open, Peyton.

PAZ: You need to revisit the text, Peyton. You need to read-- you need to pick up one of these books and read it.

LIZ: Okay, "or any word related to the aforementioned is not acceptable, especially in a name that is given at birth."

PAZ: Guess what?

LIZ: "Certain words such as torn, broken, or otherwise are acceptable as renames but most are not. Examples of unacceptable names in either situation: Brokenheart, Twistedface--"

PAZ: That's just what Crooked--

LIZ: "Hollowsoul, Searingkit," and then just Fallenbird.

PAZ: Oh my god. This is killing me.

LIZ: Okay. "Examples of acceptable names for a rename. Cats that get renamed must have been in a life threatening situations." I've read that wrong. "Cats that get renames must have been in life-threatening situations, otherwise the names become meaningless. Every cat tears a claw every now and then, so Tornclaw isn't an acceptable name change." Let him do it. Let Tornclaw do it. Fuck you. "Most cats that get renames are then sent to be an elder because any situation that would then require a name change hinders the cat from--" I think they get to be elders when they're old.

PAZ: Yeah.

JULIAN: Yeah, I think fucking-- the WindClan, Deadfoot, would have some words for you, Peyton. Deadfoot would like to debate you in the marketplace of ideas.

LIZ: And then just like, One-eye, Brokenleg, Tornfur. Oh my god. And then there-- Peyton addresses the Erins. Okay, "this also means that yes, Erins, Birchfall is not really a respectable name."

PAZ: Oh my god.

LIZ: The name denotes a fallen birch, which for one does not represent the cat for anything, appearance, personality, event even that would have had something to do with the cat. It's a completely random and purposeless name of a very bad sign/event in a forest."

PAZ: Oh my god.

LIZ: "You must consider the meaning of your name when applying such harsh disrespectful words. They are absolutely not tolerated."

JULIAN: What if I want my cat to have an angsty backstory? I'm also like, has Peyton been in the woods? Trees fall all the time.

LIZ: If a tree falls in the woods and no one's around to hear it, will Peyton still debate them?

PAZ: Oh my god.

JULIAN: "Number five. Jewels and semi precious stones are not acceptable in names. Silver and gold are used because the terms for certain colorations and markings-- technical terms-- are actually silver and gold. However, there are no markings classified as jade, ruby, onyx, or otherwise. Secondly, the possibility of cats unearthing such rare jewels that aren't even found in the British Isles is an impossibility. Most stones must be mined for and are found under certain conditions unavailable to the cats." Isn't there a mine like on the map?

PAZ: There is. They go there for their spirit ceremony.

JULIAN: That's where the Moonpool is.

LIZ: I don't have an issue with Peyton's length. These are-- this is a lot of books. There's a lot of lore. I disagree fundamentally with what Peyton is laying down.

PAZ: Oh my god. Wow. "Number six."

LIZ: Excuse you. Wow.

PAZ: "Remember that cats are not sophisticated. If the kit is red at birth, they are not crimson, scarlet, or blood. They are red or ginger. Cats don't have dictionaries and thesauri." How old do you think Peyton is?

JULIAN: Oh God, either 25 or 14.

PAZ: Yeah, there's no in between.

JULIAN: No in between.

LIZ: Peyton, if you're 25, all of this is justified. Like all of what we're saying is justified. If you're 14, please forgive us. Keep doing you.

JULIAN: But maybe think about how other people might like to roleplay and how it might be different from how you like to do it.

LIZ: Peyton, if you're 14, we're just three clowns.

JULIAN: We're three clowns. And I was this clown. When I was a role player, like I did not set out a whole lore bible for how to name cats. But I was very like, very high minded about what I thought a proper name was.

PAZ: There's more. There's more though.

JULIAN: There is more. Who wants to do seven?

LIZ: Should I do seven?

PAZ: Sure.

JULIAN: Sure.

LIZ: Is it my turn? Did we-- sorry, just want to check. Did we read the unacceptable unsophisticated or sophisticated names?

PAZ: Oh no, I didn't.

LIZ: Just Burgundypelt. I like that a lot.

JULIAN: It's very good. I also am a big fan of Cobaltpaw.

LIZ: Yeah. Okay, "number seven. All Twoleg seasons are unknown to cats. Therefore, an Autumnspirit is not acceptable, nor is a Winterpelt. Seasons are referred to differently. This also works for things such as ocean, seas, comets, and other things not commonly referred to in the books. Examples of unacceptable names: Summerheart, Oceanbreeze, Comettail." Aw, that's a good name.

JULIAN: I think Comettail slaps.

PAZ: Yeah, I can picture it. That's a cat with a really bright red tail.

LIZ: Yeah, it can be like-- that feels like a prophecy cat.

JULIAN: "Number eight, animals found outside of the British Isles are not to be referred to. It's hard to keep track of all the animals that don't live in Britain."

PAZ: Is it?

LIZ: I mean, okay, comparatively, animals that live in Britain versus animals that don't.

PAZ: That's true.

LIZ: One of those numbers is bigger than the other. Yes.

PAZ: That's true.

JULIAN: Yeah, no.

LIZ: I do agree.

JULIAN: It is hard to keep track of all the animals that don't live in Britain. "But if you don't know for sure whether or not they can be found on the island, Wikipedia it. That is the simplest answer, and you won't look like a fool. Here are some common animals that usually get placed in names that are not native or found on Britain: coyote, cardinal, and bear. This also goes for plant species such as the orchid, olive, and ebony tree. Please do your research on a species before placing it in a name."

PAZ: Last, we've finally reached the end of this chapter. "Nine, everyone knows that Twoleg objects are not acceptable names. That's obvious. However, that sometimes doesn't seem to apply or rather, it gets overlooked. Many words don't even seem to have human origins of connotations, but they do and are not acceptable. Many common words used in names, such as mask and dance, are human words to describe things in nature and are not natural occurrences. People will reference the mask of a raccoon or the dance of courting birds, but these words are not recognized by cats. This also goes for obvious materials, such as ink, sword, dagger, and various metals."

JULIAN: Does-- all words are human words.

PAZ: None of these cats know any words. Why does it--

LIZ: They know one word, and it's meow. Can I propose an exercise?

PAZ: Yes.

JULIAN: Yeah.

LIZ: Can we make a completely unacceptable name?

PAZ: Yes, please.

JULIAN: Yes.

LIZ: What's your completely unacceptable name? Let's take a minute.

PAZ: Okay. Well, let's look back up at the don'ts.

JULIAN: Oh, here's some questions at the bottom.

PAZ: Okay, we'll go anti to all these questions.

JULIAN: Yeah, well, it's just do I have an acceptable prefix, which I think we need to-- we got to go through our rules and find.

PAZ: Let's make the name first and then come back to these questions. Okay, so no celestial objects. No dreaming.

JULIAN: What about an asteroid? Because that's both a celestial object and like a rare or semi precious stone.

PAZ: That's pretty good. Is there a prettier name, like asteroid term?

JULIAN: Meteor?

LIZ: Space debris.

PAZ: You know what, what if we take the name of a planet or moon. That'll also cover the no spiritual--

JULIAN: Perfect.

PAZ: --references. Let's look at some of these Jupiter moons.

JULIAN: I'm a fan of Titan.

PAZ: Oh, that could be a real big cat.

JULIAN: Big boy.

LIZ: Titan... fall.

[laughter]

PAZ: We can't do that. We'll get sued.

LIZ: Just bleep it out.

JULIAN: Titansoul.

LIZ: Is that a thing? That also feels like a thing.

PAZ: It feels like it should be a thing.

LIZ: Yes, it is a thing.

JULIAN: Fuck.

LIZ: Fuck.

PAZ: This is hard.

LIZ: It's a video game.

PAZ: Naming warriors is hard.

JULIAN: Titan...summer.

LIZ: Hot titan summer. Titan... bone.

JULIAN: Megatitanboneclan.

LIZ: Titan... dream.

PAZ: What if we do like Hades or something for the goth factor?

JULIAN: Ooh yeah.

LIZ: Hades... fur.

JULIAN: Hadesdream.

PAZ: Hadesdream?

LIZ: That's his wife before she divorced him.

JULIAN: I feel like the second part of the name is harder to like--

PAZ: Yeah, it's harder to go against.

LIZ: What if we do some word mashing? What if it's Hadesclipse.

PAZ: Oh shit.

JULIAN: [to the tune of Loona's "Eclipse"] Hadesclipes. Da na na na.

PAZ: Hadesclipse.

JULIAN: I like Hadesclipse. It breaks many rules.

PAZ: I'm really a fan of it.

JULIAN: How does it represent our cat?

PAZ: Um, they're evil.

JULIAN: Okay.

PAZ: They're evil and they live in darkness, hence the eclipse.

JULIAN: Gotcha.

LIZ: They're evil--

JULIAN: I think they have big teeth.

LIZ: But it also sounds like they started like a local competitor to Great Clips.

JULIAN: Well, that's what they have the big teeth for is to give the other cats hair cuts so they can-- they have to give all the other cats emo bangs!

PAZ: Yes.

LIZ: Oh, I love that. Hadesclipse, born during an eclipse. Very dark and evil, but gives you the crispest bangs you'll ever see. The swoop? Unimaginable.

PAZ: Did we go through the questions? Should we do that?

LIZ: Yeah.

JULIAN: Oh, yeah.

PAZ: "Do I have an acceptable prefix?"

JULIAN: Nope.

LIZ: Absolutely.

PAZ: "Does it make sense to be the name given at birth?"

JULIAN: Yes.

LIZ: Yes. Because Hadesclipse's mom was a goth named Boneocean.

PAZ: Oh shit. "How does it represent my cat?"

JULIAN: Well, he's evil.

PAZ: Yeah. "Can I match it with a suffix?" Yeah. Blends perfectly.

LIZ: Rolls right off the tongue.

PAZ: "How should my suffix represent him or her?"

JULIAN: Well, his work as an amateur barber.

PAZ: "Is it best to encourage their appearance or personality?"

LIZ: Ooh, ooh, ooh. Okay, so Hadesclipse can be one of those like torties with like the half like black face and half brown.

PAZ: Oh, fuck yeah.

JULIAN: Oh, yeah.

PAZ: Wait, wait, wait. Is he a tortie tom?

JULIAN: He's a tortie tom. He's a tortie tom and he has purple eyes!

PAZ: Fuck yes. "Have I successfully described my cat?"

LIZ: 100%.

JULIAN: Yes.

PAZ: Yes. Beautiful. Perfect. New leader of Megaboneclan.

LIZ: Everyone's gonna look so good.

JULIAN: They're gonna be so stylish.

PAZ: He invents hair dye with red berries so he can give them those frosted tips.

JULIAN: He can probably dye cats black, too.

PAZ: Oh, yeah.

JULIAN: With walnuts. For that real goth look.

LIZ: His first customer is Walnutfur. This was really easy.

JULIAN: Yeah, this is really good.

PAZ: I'm so glad that Peyton made a guide for us on how to make the best names ever by telling us what we shouldn't do so we can do it. Thank you, Peyton.

LIZ: I was very antagonistic before, but like nothing but with respect for the thoroughness of this. I couldn't fuckin do this.

JULIAN: Yeah, this is a work of like--

PAZ: It's long.

JULIAN: A lot of effort went into this.

PAZ: Yeah. You know, people are very passionate about warrior names. As we know from Susanclaws of days past. Well, I think that might do it for us today.

JULIAN: Oh yeah.

PAZ: We've learned a lot. And Hadesclipse rules. So next week we will be reading probably chapter seven through 10. I'm gonna see how long it is. It might end up being chapter seven through nine. It'll be a surprise. Other than that, you can find the show @staircast on twitter.com. You can email us with questions or anecdotes, [email protected]. And do we want to announce the thing?

JULIAN: We joke a lot on the podcast about doing a Patreon. But we're actually going to do a Patreon.

PAZ: Surprise.

LIZ: Hey!

JULIAN: There's like a ton of stuff that we want to get into and it would be-- a Patreon lets us sort of like have that separate stream.

PAZ: Yeah. Like maybe we do want to read about Pinestar being told to kill his child. And the Patreon would be--

JULIAN: We so badly want to read about that.

PAZ: The Patreon would be a great place for that. I mean, there's also a lot of other Warriors fan content. Like there's a Roblox game I would love to play. Um, stuff like that.

JULIAN: There's an official tabletop game.

PAZ: Yes.

LIZ: And we have to play that.

PAZ: Yes indeed. You love Hadesclipse? Wait till we play that game. Yeah, so I think the Patreon will be a place for reading the special books, maybe the manga. There's also novellas out there, maybe doing more specific deep dives on certain things. So if any of that sounds interesting to you guys, you can go to patreon.com/staircast, where we'll be doing bi-monthly bonus content episodes. Does anyone else wanna add something?

LIZ: I think that's it.

JULIAN: Yeah. I'm very excited to get to dig more into some stuff.

PAZ: Yeah. And any support would be great. We love you. And thank you to everyone who has been listening to this podcast. It's been really fun to do and I'm glad other people are enjoying it. Yeah, that's the update for now. We will catch--

JULIAN: Oh, there's some very ominous thunder in the background, sorry.

PAZ: It's Hadesclipse.

JULIAN: Hadesclipse is here to fuck us up.

PAZ: Yeah, he has thunder powers too. We didn't mention that, but just, you know. Anyway, that'll be it for us this week. We will be back next week with more Forest of Secrets. Everyone have a great week. And until next time, may StarClan light your path. Bye.

LIZ: Bye.

JULIAN: Bye.

[outro music]

JULIAN: Oh, it's International Asteroid Day.

PAZ: It is.

LIZ: Oh my god.

JULIAN: For Hadesclipse.

LIZ: Hades...clipse.

#ep 18 #transcript #forest of secrets ep #purrlock holmes

0 notes

joeybelle · 7 years ago

Text

Starlight - Chapter 22

Relationship: Cassian Andor / Original Female Character

Rating: Mature

Tags: Pre-Rogue One, Romance, Feels, Hurt-Comfort

The next few days were extremely tiring, but seeing that she was making progress was giving her enough strength to keep going. Training every day before or after her shifts was exhausting, but with the assessment closing in, she dismissed Cassian’s suggestion to take it slow. So he decided to add one hour of physical training a day, because apparently he was either very nice or a complete monster, no in-between. Or both at the same time, she couldn’t make up her mind.

So now she had half an hour of jogging around the base and half an hour of strength training every day, on top of weapons training, survival techniques, field training and everything else. Fortunately, she still remembered all the theoretical parts, the protocols (which, she just found out, no one really gave a shit about since they were nowhere as strict as the Empire), and anything that had to do with the medical aspect of her job. However, she absolutely sucked at hand to hand combat, as she found out one night, when Cassian mercilessly beat her ass.

She had never been great at it, she was well aware of that, but usually she was fast enough to avoid getting her ass kicked in a very humiliating way. This time, it wasn’t the case. Cassian was faster, stronger and could somehow predict her every move. She had always known he was fast, ever since she tried clawing his eyes out (the first time), but she had never seen him fight, and she had to admit, it was quite impressive. Before she could get close enough to hit him, she was either on the floor or in a chokehold.

“If it wasn’t for the humiliation part,” she said, trying to wiggle out of his grasp as she found herself immobilized in a chokehold once again, “I’d really enjoy this.”

Cassian chuckled, his chest vibrating slightly against her back. “Would you, now?” His breath tickled down her neck making her hair stand, but his lips never really touched her skin. Instead he let go of her, and without his support she just collapsed on the ground. “Too bad training’s over.”

“You’re such a tease,” she mumbled, vigorously massaging her aching muscles into working once again. She was glad training was over, for every fiber of her body hurt in ways she didn’t imagine to be possible until now.

“You should take a hot shower and go to bed ASAP,” he said, helping her up. “We’ll take it easy tomorrow, or you won’t be able to walk to your assessment.”

“Weapons training tomorrow,” she said, dusting off her clothes. “I’m very happy not to do physical for a day, but I still need the gun training.”

“As you wish. But I think you should take it down a notch before you hurt yourself.”

“Mhm,” she mumbled, taking a big gulp of water, “after the assessment I’m taking three days off and do nothing but sleep. If I don’t fail, that is…”

“Not much of an optimist, are you?”

“I’m not genetically programmed for optimism. It’s in my lineage.” She laughed, but it was true. They were all a bunch of sad, morose imperials. Well, whatever was left of her family anyway.

Cassian laughed and bid her goodnight once they were out, turning off the lights in the gym and locking the doors behind them. Cora dragged her feet to her room, her body heavy and uncooperative. She contemplated sleeping in the elevator for a moment, slouched in a corner, but her gym clothes were sweaty and her skin itchy. She probably also stank, but her sense of smell seemed to have diminished due to exhaustion. So she convinced herself to get into the shower and sleep there.

She was pretty sure she actually fell asleep for a few moments while showering and was only woken up by a knock on her door. Either that or she dreamt it, which was a lot more plausible because there was no way she could actually hear it over the running water. But dream or not, Cassian was on the other side of the door when she opened it.

“I brought you something to ease the pain,” he said, stepping in and showing her a jar filled with a weird, brown, gel-like substance.

“Thank you, but it’s ok,” she said, trying to fix the towel she had hastily wrapped around herself. “I took some meds, they’ll help with the discomfort.”

“So will this,” he said, unscrewing the lid, a pungent smell filling the room almost instantly. Cora scrunched her nose in disgust. “But faster and more efficiently.”

“Umm, no.” Cora took a few steps back, putting her hands up in defense, like he was about to attack her with the brown ointment. “It looks like dung. What’s it made of, anyway?”

“Trust me, you don’t want to know. Now let me give you a massage, you’ll feel much better afterward,” he insisted.

Cora really wanted to tell him where he could shove his weird jar of bantha manure, but then she remembered how stubborn he could be, and if she could fight him to smear his wounds in bacta, she was sure he would do the same when he believed he knew better. And now she knew that he’d win, because she was crap at hand to hand combat and he’s already kicked her ass once that day.

“Ok, alright,” she sighed, throwing her hands up in despair. “But only if you promise you won’t fight me the next time I wanna smear you in bacta.” He let her arms rest on his shoulders, pulling him closer. If she was about to spend the night smelling like a witch doctor’s medicine cabinet, the least he could do was kiss her first.

“I won’t make promises I won’t be able to keep,” he whispered, kissing along her jaw.

“Won’t be able or don’t intend to keep?”

He chuckled and Cora realized she really didn’t mind being smeared in weird looking concoctions, even though she knew they were useless, as long as it made Cassian happy. The medic in her that opposed anything she considered to be snake oil was currently subdued by the woman that just wanted to see her man happy. It wasn’t that much of an effort to put her pride aside and for once do what someone else told her to do.

“Let’s get you into bed,” he said, before Cora could just fall asleep with her head on his shoulder. She nodded and yawned, taking her towel off and throwing it on the back of a chair.

If she imagined that what was about to come would be a sensual massage, oh boy, was she wrong. Although Cassian’s hands weren’t rough or heavy, he managed to find all the sore spots in her muscles, making Cora moan, and not of too much pleasure.

“You’re mean,” she complained, as the pain became a little too much, wiggling away from his touch. “You were supposed to be gentle.” She grabbed her sheets and wrapped herself in them, trying to find a little protection from his pain inducing fingers. There was a trail of brown goo on her pristine white sheets, and Cora really hoped it won’t stain. The smell, although pungent, wasn’t as unpleasant as she first thought. It smelled of herbs and sap and other things that she couldn’t identify, but it wasn’t bad.

“If I’m gentle you won’t be able to move for the next three days,” he said, trying to detangle Cora from the sheets.

“I don’t wanna move for the next three days, I wanna sleep,” she whined, sounding more pathetic than she expected.

Cassian sighed, but there was still an amused smile on his lips and Cora could tell he definitely wasn’t taking her seriously. “Just a little longer,” he bargained. “Five more minutes and I’ll let you sleep. I promise.”

Cora pouted and tried to murder him with her eyes but got out of the sheets, laying back on her stomach. “You have to cook for me again, if you ever want to forgive me for the pain you’re putting me through,” she said, when his hands went back to massaging her thighs. Cassian laughed and agreed to her conditions.

She flinched at first, but eventually managed to relax. Either she was getting used to it or he was being gentler, but it wasn’t as bad this time around. Her muscles didn’t ache as badly, but it felt like they were on fire, her skin red and hot. However, she was thankful. She realized how lucky she was to have someone to train her, to rearrange his whole schedule to match hers and after that to find the time to tend to her aching muscles and bruises, even though she was sure he was just as tired as she was. Although she wasn’t convinced the ointment was going to help, she was pretty sure the massage would.

Once she relaxed she started to feel sleep taking over. Her eyelids were growing heavier and her mind was becoming a little hazy. Trying hard not to fall asleep, she turned slightly and propped herself onto an elbow. She watched as Cassian massaged her ankles, a satisfied smile plastered on her face.

“What?” he asked, throwing her a glance from behind the curtain of unruly, black hair currently getting into his eyes.

“I never thought you could be this domestic,” she said, poking at his thigh with her toes, smiling stupidly.

He frowned a little in confusion. “What did you think I’d be like? Feral?”

“A little. You have this bad boy vibe, but you’re actually really sweet.” Cora snickered. “If you wanna know the truth, I thought you were really annoying at first,” she confessed. “Huuuuge stick up your ass. I just wanted to hit you over the head until I could break that infuriating calm attitude you always had whenever you came for interrogations.” Cora laughed at the memory.

Cassian however, didn’t. The moment she mentioned the interrogations he froze, his hands clenched on her ankles. He quickly pulled himself together, going back to rubbing her feet, but this time he was avoiding her gaze and his smile was gone. Cora’s heart sunk. She knew she had made a mistake. She hadn’t realized that talking about something that had happened so long ago could strike a chord, especially when it wasn’t the first time she had teased him about being much too serious on the job. She wanted to apologize, anything to break the sudden tension in the atmosphere, but she wasn’t sure what to apologize for and wondered if it wasn't better to just pretend she didn’t notice his change in attitude. Considering that they had jokingly insulted each other before, she didn’t think that he’d take that to heart. Maybe he was just tired.

“I’m sorry,” he eventually said, breaking the silence. He was looking down at his hands, tracing the outline of her foot with his fingers.

“For?” she asked, sitting up on the bed, panic clearly visible on her face.

“For bringing you here,” he said, turning his head slightly to look at her, his voice low and remorseful. “For not keeping my promise.”

Cora let out the breath she was holding and slumped back against the pillows. So this was what it was all about. She frowned. She really didn’t want to have this conversation now (or ever, for that matter), for there was still so much resentment. And even if that resentment wasn’t directed towards him, she still didn’t want to voice it. But it seemed like she had no choice. Not when he finally apologized and she saw how much it affected him.

“It’s ok,” she said, forcing the words to leave her mouth. “I mean, you were right,” she said, looking at her fingers, her turn now to avoid his gaze. “I see it now. If you would have left me alone on a strange planet I would have been dead, or worse, would have fallen into the hands of the Empire. I just… I just wished I had seen it then. Understanding that you had a job to do and did what needed to be done at that point, and so did the Council, would have saved me a lot of energy and there would have been less bad blood.” She smiled weakly, hoping that he’d just accept it and leave it at that.

“I shouldn’t have done it anyway.” There was a sort of resolve in his voice, that gave Cora the impression that he had been thinking about it for a while and they weren’t just empty words meant to make her feel better.

“I’ve forgiven you a long time ago. We wouldn’t be here if I hadn’t,” she said, smiling, a blush tinting her cheeks. “But thank you. It means a lot to me.” It really did. It meant the world to her that he cared enough to apologize for something that in the end, was just him doing his job. She didn’t think that he had second thoughts and that he regretted anything he did, but it seemed she had been wrong, and there was still a lot she didn’t know about Cassian. “I’m also sorry,” she said. “I’ve said some terrible things to you back then.”

“You were right,” he said, his posture still rigid, but the smile seemed genuine.

“No I wasn’t. I only said what I knew would hurt, and I didn’t mean most of it.” She shook her head lightly. “Especially not the part where I said that I regret saving your life. I didn’t regret saving your life for a moment. And I regret a lot of decisions I made in my file, but not this one.”

Cassian still looked a little weary, but his stance seemed to soften up. His hands still absentmindedly caressed her feet. “So,” he said, a smile creeping up his face, “you didn’t mean it when you said I looked like a… weasel?”

“Oh no, I meant that,” she said stifling a laugh, the atmosphere feeling suddenly lighter. “I still think you look like a weasel. Small and cuddly, but with some very sharp teeth.” She shot up and grabbed his shirt, yanking him towards her. “And speaking of cuddles, I demand some,” she said, pulling him closer.

He discarded his shoes turned off the light, and got into bed with her fully clothed. Cora pulled the covers over both of them and nestled into his arms, sighing in content. She didn’t care that she was smearing brown ointment all over his clothes, or that his uniform was feeling kind of rough against her bare skin, right now all she wanted was to fall asleep in his protecting embrace.

“You know,” she whispered in his ear, “I know my situation is not ideal, and my life is not like I’d imagined it to be, but right now there’s nowhere else I’d rather be.”

Cassian didn’t say anything, and for a moment she thought that he’d fallen asleep before her, but then she felt him pull her closer, pressing her to his chest. He found her lips in silence and kissed her deeply.

She fell asleep with her head in the crook of his neck, listening to his even breathing.

The evening before the assessment Cora wasn’t as stressed as she anticipated. She expected to be mortified, pacing around the room unable to calm down, but to her surprise, she was pretty chill. That didn’t mean she was completely serene, but it was as close at she’d gotten to being calm since she found out about it.

The postponing of the assessment had played a role in that—a sudden attack on one of their outposts kept everyone busy for almost a full week—but it wasn’t the extra hours of training that she got between long and exhausting shifts. Seeing the wounded fight for their life put everything in a different perspective. After all, even if she failed the assessment, her primary job was healing the patients on base, and she was confident that she was useful where she was. She was doing enough as it was, without the added responsibility.

And with this conclusion in mind, she actually managed to do a lot better in the training sessions. Without the pressure to succeed looming over her, she found it easier to concentrate and follow Cassian’s advice. And when she focused, she didn’t suck as bad, even earning a few praising words from Cassian here and there. She still hopelessly sucked at hand to hand combat, but she didn’t have much hope in that field. She just wasn’t built for it, physically or mentally.

Her shift ended early that night, so she had quite some time to spend with Lewella who had just gotten back from a mission, eating dinner and chatting. Lew was an amazing storyteller and she could make even the most mundane mission sound like an exciting adventure. So Cora listened, forgetting about the stress for a few hours.

But Lewella was tired so she went to sleep early and Cora found herself alone once again. Knowing that if she went to bed now she'd just end up lying awake for hours, she started aimlessly walking around the base. She’d agreed with Cassian that they’d take a break from training that night, so she could get enough rest, but without his training sessions she realized that she had nothing to occupy her time, except for work and the occasional meetings with her very few (and very busy) friends.

Despite doing her best to avoid meeting Cassian, trying hard to not look too clingy and unable to spend a night without him, she still bumped into him on the landing strip. Ok, maybe she didn’t do her best, and maybe deep inside she hoped she’d bump into him one way or another, but she liked to believe that she at least tried avoiding him.

“Good evening, Doctor,” he said once he noticed her walking towards him. “How are your pre- assessment jitters?”

“I haven’t spontaneously combusted yet, so pretty good I’d say,” she laughed.

“Can’t sleep?”

“I haven’t even tried,” she said, feeling like this wasn’t the reply he was expecting. However, the frown that she expected in return never appeared. “It’s still early. I’m way too used to sleeping after midnight to change it in a day.”

Cassian nodded. “Well, if you won’t try to sleep any time soon, do you want to see something?” he asked, putting back some tools someone had left on the landing strip, next to a half taken apart engine.

“Depends,” she said out of reflex. “What is that something and how bad will be get in trouble for it?”

“Why do you think we’ll get in trouble?” he laughed, raising an eyebrow.

“In my experience anything that starts with ‘wanna see something cool’ or ‘wanna do something’ ends with one or more people being reprimanded. But maybe it’s just me and I’ve been friends with the wrong people my whole life.”

“Well, don’t listen to Lew if she ever tells you that. Or Melshi,” he chuckled. “But I’m going to make sure it won’t happen. I wouldn’t want you to miss the assessment tomorrow.”

Cora crossed her arms. “You’re almost making me want to get in trouble now.”

“Not tonight,” he assured her, and somehow, she felt a little let down. There was a part of her that craved the adventure, the danger, a part that was always in conflict with the logical and cautious part of her brain. “So, are you coming?” he prompted, placing the newly rearranged toolbox on a shelf and waiting for Cora to make up her mind.

“Hell, why not,” she decided, and followed him.

There was a satisfied grin plastered on his face and he seemed pleased with himself. Cora assumed he was expecting her to say no, but she would gladly get in trouble if it meant spending some time alone with him. She’d never tell him that though, she should never know how much power he had over her.

He led her to his ship. Cora wondered of they were going off world, a flicker of excitement sending a shiver down her spine. But then she remembered she wasn’t allowed to leave without permission. She hadn’t thought about her bracelet in so long, having gotten so used to it, but now it hung heavily on her wrist once again.

Cassian didn’t take long, coming out of the ship with a backpack. He started striding towards the jungle, with Cora following close behind, almost running.

“Where are we going?” she asked, once they reached the edge of the forest. She still perceived the invisible line that separated the jungle from the base as a boundary and was reluctant to cross it, although she knew there was nothing stopping her. Cassian had taken her to the shooting range in the forest a couple of times during the past few days, but at the time the daylight madeit look a lot less menacing. Right now, all dark and gloomy, the forest looked downright sinister.

“There’s too much light here,” he said, pointing to the spotlights along the landing strip. “We have to get some distance between us and the base if we want to see anything.”

Cora was more than a little apprehensive. Her anxious brain had already populated the shadows with unimaginable horrors. “Isn’t it dangerous?” she asked, sounding a little frightened.

“No, not really. Not if we’re careful. None of the more dangerous animals venture this close to the base, we make too much noise for their liking,” he explained taking a few steps into the forest. Cora reluctantly followed him, only because she didn’t want to be left alone at the edge.

There was only a small flashlight in Cassian’s hand, and even though it emanated a pretty strong beam of light, it was not enough for it to dissipate the all encompassing darkness. Cora had expected the jungle to be silent at night, but only now did she notice the continuous buzzing of insects and screams of whatever animals populated it. A cold shiver ran down her spine.

This feeling was new. Just like she never thought she’d feel claustrophobic until she had been imprisoned, she never once imagined she could be afraid of the dark. But if the darkness once meant the familiar, safe space the vent walls created around her, now it was the entirety of the unknown.

“Are you afraid of the dark?” Cassian asked out of the blue, twisting the flashlight and turning it into a lantern that he hung onto his belt, the once focused beam of light turning into a diffuse halo surrounding them both. Somehow, this was a little more reassuring, since she could see better around her.

“Would you hold it against me if I said yes?” she asked, stepping closer to him.

“No,” he said, and reached into his backpack. He pulled out a small blaster and handed it to her. Cora took it and studied it in the dim light. It was a small model, not very powerful, but it could still be deadly up close. Cora wondered if Cassian lacked any sense of self preservation.

“Everyone is afraid of something,” he continued, and his voice was surprisingly deep.

“Even you, Captain?” she asked, holding the blaster in both hands, the muzzle pointing to the ground, right below Cassian’s feet. If she moved her hands only a few centimeters upwards it would be pointing at his head. Even with his speed, she was pretty sure he wouldn’t be able to grab his blaster from its holster and shoot her first. Two quick shots would be all it would take. She wouldn’t even have to kill him, if she just switched the blaster to stun, she’d still be able to incapacitate him long enough for her to return to base, steal his ship and leave. The flimsy bracelet on her wrist would be easy to break and get rid of, and she could be free. She could finally be free to get away from it all. Her finger hovered over the gun’s safety lock. “What are you afraid of, Captain?”

“There’s more than one type of darkness out there,” he replied, his eyes staring intensely at her.

“That’s so philosophical,” she snickered, strapping the blaster to her belt, safety still in place. She wondered if he had noticed her hesitation and if he knew the inner battle she had fought for a moment. He probably did. She guessed it was some sort of test, otherwise why would he give her a blaster in the middle of the jungle where no one could hear her shoot. Would he have let her pull the trigger, or would he have disarmed her the moment she disengaged the safety? Was he ready to kill her or did he have enough faith that she wouldn’t try to escape? Whatever his reasoning, Cora had made her choice, and now that the moment of weakness had passed, she knew that she’d never use a weapon against him. There was a strange relief in knowing this. She hoped he knew too.

“If Lewella had heard you speak like that you’d never hear the end of it,” Cora continued.

“Good thing she’s not here, then.”

The atmosphere had gone back to the relaxed chatter from before her moment of tension, even though Cora’s heart was still beating a million miles a minute, the adrenaline in her blood making her a little more talkative than usual. However, she was still pretty jumpy, so when she heard some leaves rustling she jumped behind Cassian, grabbing onto his coat.

“There’s nothing to be afraid of,” he said, pointing to a small rodent like creature. “It’s harmless.”

“I’m not afraid,” she said, sounding completely terrified, looking at the retreating creature like it was about to eat her. “It’s just my self preservation instinct kicking in.”

Cassian laughed, but Cora didn’t feel like he was making fun of her, even though he had enough reasons to laugh. She was so unprepared for this trip it was funny even to herself.

“You know,” she continued, figuring that if he wasn’t going to make fun of her, she may as well do it herself, “for someone who wanted to move to a remote planet and start my own farm, I’m utterly unprepared for it. I mean,” she laughed, “I’ve never seen a goat in real life. I’m not even sure what a bantha looks like, let alone how to heard either of those.”

“You’ve never seen a goat up close?” he asked, looking at her, incredulously.

“No? Have you seen many goats running free on imperial dreadnoughts?” Cassian laughed. “My parents never allowed pets and I never really lived in the countryside. To be honest, this jungle may be the wildest place I’ve ever been to.” It wasn’t completely true, she thought, she had trained in different places while in the stormtrooper program, but the missions were the only important thing back then. There was no time for sightseeing. It was just you and your brothers in arms, looking for something to kill, the heavy artillery close behind.

“That’s why you wanted your own farm?” he asked, and seemed genuinely curious about it.

Cora couldn’t remember if she had ever told him about the imaginary farm she had dreamt about building for herself. “I guess,” she said. “It always felt like it’s the… not the right way to live, but the… I don’t know, the least stressful way to live. I mean I assume it’s not an easy life and I’ve never had to worry about providing my own food and starving to death, so feel free to correct me anytime, but at least this way you know for sure that you’re not responsible in any way for genocide, because you’re not a link in a system that supports mass murder.” Well it wasn’t exactly what she wanted to say, but it encompassed what she felt.

“Do you feel responsible?”

“Yeah,” she said, and could feel her voice crack a little. “I’ve been actively and passively part of it my whole life, there’s no way I won’t feel responsible. As long as my father’s still doing what he does… there’s always going to be a part of me that feels responsible.”

“But you��re fighting the Empire right now. You’re actively trying to stop it.”

“I still don’t feel like I’m doing enough.” She sighed. “Whatever I’m doing here, compared to what my father’s doing out there, it’s just not enough to compensate.”

“You’re doing enough,” he said in a serious and encouraging tone. “We’re all doing what we can. Sometimes it’s more, sometimes it may be less, but as long as you’re doing your best it’s enough.”

Cora looked at his profile in the dim light. He was looking straight ahead, with a steely expression on his face. She wondered if this encouragement wasn’t one that he often told himself. He seemed a little down lately, even though Cora couldn’t exactly tell what was different.

Lewella had told her a while ago to keep an eye on Cassian because whenever he was grounded for longer periods of time, especially as a punishment, he had a tendency to lose himself and become depressed. Not that you could tell on the outside, but Lew knew him well enough to accurately predict his mood swings. Since the Samarkand fiasco he was still kept mostly on base, so Cora could assume he wasn’t very happy, and in moments like this, when his voice became grave and he stared into the distance, she knew that he wasn’t quite ok.

“Yeah, you’re right,” she said as they were nearing a clearing. In the background she could see the dark outline of one of the ziggurats that could be seen from the base, punctuating the canopy. It looked a lot bigger than she expected, but it was still much smaller than the one they used as their base. “I just hope the war will be over soon, so I can herd goats and enjoy the nature,” she said with a faint smile. “I think that maybe going to a very remote place isn’t such a good idea, but I could probably live near a small village. Become the village witch doctor.” Cassian chuckled. “By the way thanks for the ointment and the massage. Surprisingly, I think it really worked.”

Cassian looked at her with a half amused frown on his face. “Of course it worked,” he said, with conviction. “Didn’t you believe me?”

“Of course not,” she replied, speeding a little to keep up with him. “I’m a scientist, I don’t trust anything until I have tangible proof.”

“So you won’t fight me next time I’ll apply it?”

Something about that ‘next time’ really made her heart flutter. It was an unexpected sense of permanence, the idea that their relationship—however they could define it—was stable enough to allow such familiarity in the future. She smiled.

“I can’t promise anything,” she scoffed, but the corners of her mouth were still upturned. “It stained my sheets. But I gotta give it to you, you know your shit. I have a feeling you’d do great as a witch doctor yourself.” She gave him a congratulatory pat on his back. “By the way, have you though what you’re going to do when the war ends? Assuming that we’re going to win, of course…”

“No, not really,” he said his voice trailing off.

“Oh come on,” she pressed. “You have to have a backup plan there somewhere, you can’t be Captain Andor forever,” she laughed. She didn’t think he had a real plan, she didn’t have one either. The future seemed so murky that she wasn’t sure she’d even survive the next few months. But she liked to imagine what her life could be like if everything eventually worked out, if she was allowed to live her life as she pleased. And she wanted to know what he daydreamed about, what he imagined when he couldn’t sleep, where he wanted to be in a few years, even though those were just improbable fantasy, so she pressed on.

“I don’t really think about the future,” he eventually said, a barely there note of irritation in his voice.

“Why?” she asked, confusion written all over her face. She didn’t really think there was anyone who didn’t think about their future, at least once in a while.

The silence continued for a few more moments and Cora was pretty sure he wouldn’t reply. Maybe he had his reasons to stay silent and, after all, who was she to demand answers to such private questions, especially when she could see the pronounced frown on his face, even in the dim light.

“Thinking about future,” he eventually said, “can make you hopeful.” There was an emptiness in his tone that Cora couldn’t ignore. And an almost imperceptible tinge of sadness.

“And that’s such a bad thing?” she asked, eyeing him sideways.

“It can make some things harder,” he replied, not looking at her.

“Like?” she asked, still not understanding. She lived under the impression that the hope for a better future was the only thing that kept them going.

“Do you know what this is?” he asked, tapping his personal identifier transponder with two fingers.

Cora opened her mouth to reply, but then it hit her that he wasn’t referring to the transponder but to what was hidden underneath. A cold shiver ran down her spine and she was sure her face lost all colour. For once, she was thankful for the dim light, so he wouldn’t notice the change.

“Suicide pill,” she eventually mumbled, her voice faltering. The eerie sound of the jungle seemed a lot stronger now that they had stopped chatting. Their steps were just muffled thuds on the soft floor of the jungle, getting lost in the cacophony of noises and making her feel completely out of place.

“We call it ‘Lullaby’,” he said with a crooked smile that never reached his eyes the sinking feeling in the pit of her stomach grew exponentially.

“That’s a terrible name,” she said, frowning. She’d heard the name before, but never made the connection. She was also aware that suicide pills existed, and that the intelligence department had them, but only now did it hit her what the reality of what having one really meant. That you had to be mentally prepared to take your own life, if needed.

Only now did it hit her that in all the time she knew him, Cassian had been ready to die.

“I think it’s a good name. It helps you sleep better,” he said with a snicker, seemingly amused by his own joke.

Cora looked at him with a worried expression on her face, one that she was sure he noticed even in the darkness that surrounded them, because he started chuckling.

“It was a joke,” he said, trying to sound apologetic.

“A very bad one,” Cora concluded, punching him in the arm, with the vigour of a withered plant. She was sure it wasn’t completely a joke, there was at least a grain of truth there, but she played along. She really didn’t want to open the flood gates, because she really didn’t know how to handle it. She wasn’t sure she wanted to talk about death and resolve in the middle of a jungle.

“That’s how you punch?” he asked, laughing at her pathetic attempt. “I should have trained you harder.”

“No please, no! Don’t want to think about training sessions for a while,” she said, throwing her hands in the air defensively, with an ounce of panic in her voice. “Why are we here, anyway?” she asked, abruptly changing the subject, fearing that thinking about the assessment for even a second would flood her with panic.

They were looking at the base of one of the ziggurats. This one was a lot smaller than their base, but it was still towering over them, dark and menacing, looking like it wanted to puncture the sky. The structure was slimmer and quite abrupt, more like an obelisk than a temple.

“We’re going to climb that,” Cassian announced in a rather cheery voice, placing his hands on his hips, looking up at the tower.

Cora looked at him, really looked at him for a moment, wondering if it was worth the punishment if she took out the blaster and shot him now. “You said there wouldn’t be a workout today,” she said, accusingly, trying to poke a hole into his head with her glare.

“It’s not a workout,” he shrugged, innocently enough.

“If it involves stairs, it is for me,” Cora concluded, crossing her arms. “I want to be able to use my legs tomorrow.”

“You shouldn’t be so out of shape anymore…” he tried again, but Cora only puffed in response. Cassian seemed to lose his enthusiasm for half a second, and looked around. “We could stay on the ground,” he said a little disheartened, “but I don’t think we’re gonna see anything from here. Not through the treetops.”

Cora looked up. The darkness seemed so dense when they left the base, but it seemed her eyes had gotten used to the absence of light, because now she could clearly see patches of the starry sky poking through little gaps in the foliage. The sky was clear, she finally realized. She had spent so much time thinking about the assessment that she had completely forgotten to look up the past few days. A new feeling of exhilaration took over, when she realized that he probably wanted to show her the stars.

“No, let’s go up,” she said, a smile spreading over her face. Cassian's features also softened, the concerned frown turning into an amused smirk. “But”, she said, and her tone was harsher this time, as she shoved an index finger in his face, “my legs are your responsibility. If they hurt tomorrow, or the day after, or any other day, to be precise, I expect a massage. And not the painful kind. Slow, relaxing, sensual, rose oil and all. And a foot rub.”

“Ok,” he laughed, shrugging his shoulders.

“Don’t forget that you agreed to this, I don’t want to hear you complain about it tomorrow.”

“I won’t, don’t worry.”

She didn’t worry. She knew him well enough to know that if he agreed to something he would do it (unless it regarded his own health, where he was known to break multiple promises).

She followed him to the base of the ziggurat. Here no one had cleared the jungle, so there was vegetation growing right up to the building. Cassian lead the way showing her what paths to take. The slope was pretty steep, but there were stairs going up. However, the weather and who knew what else had eroded them in some places so they had to hoist themselves up from one platform to another.

Cassian had let her go first with the lantern fastened to her belt, lighting the way. From time to time she’d have to climb onto his hands to reach higher places. Occasionally, his hands would be on her ass, pushing her upward.

“Is this,” she said between hitched breaths after they both managed to pass one rather annoying gap in the stairs, “is this just a pretext to grope my ass?”

“Do I need a pretext to grope your ass?” he asked, his breathing visibly less laboured than hers.

“No you don’t, but don’t let that get to you head,” she said, collapsing on the stone, trying to catch her breath. “Is there still a lot to go?” she asked, exhaustion clear in her voice.

Cassian looked around for a few moments, assessing the situation. They were a few meters above the treetops, the base clearly visible in the distance, a tower of lights in the sea of darkness.

“No, I think we’re good,” he said, taking a seat on the stone, next to her.

Cora was already so absorbed in the view around her that she didn’t reply. The sky was bigger than she had ever seen it since Yavin 4 had become her home. She had gotten so used to the grey skies that she usually didn’t even look up anymore. But tonight it was different, the sky dusted with myriad of glimmering stars, a view she hadn’t seen in ages. Cassian had been right, on their well lit base she couldn’t have possibly enjoyed such a view. It almost felt like the stars surrounded her like they did when she was living on a ship.

“Oh! Is that…?” she asked, pointing towards a trail of light that suddenly crossed the sky.

“Yeah, it’s a shooting star,” Cassian explained. “There’s a meteor shower every few months, but usually the sky is much too overcast to be able to see them. I guess today is out lucky day.”

“I’ve never seen shooting stars before,” she said, completely in awe.

“Really? Then it’s a good thing I dragged you here today.”

Cora looked at him, her heart full of gratitude, while Cassian was digging into his backpack.

“Thank you,” she said, “for dragging me here.”

“You’re welcome!” He smiled. “I thought you needed some time to unwind after this stressful week. It would have been nicer tomorrow, but you said you’re working the night shift and they’re sending me back off world the day after.”

Her heart sunk at the news. She never expected him to stay on base forever, but truth be told she had gotten so used to seeing him every day that the thought of his imminent absence hurt. Not only was he going to be away for days, but she had no way of knowing where he was, if he was ok and if he was ever going to come back. She realized, however, that she had no right to feel hurt by this, it was his job and she had to accept it.

“So Captain Andor is back in business?” she joked, trying her best to hide the sadness in her voice.

“Yeah, it’s about time,” he said, and his voice sounded relieved. Cora suspected he was getting bored out of his mind doing only training and paperwork all day, but a selfish part of her didn’t want him to go. “Melshi sends you these,” he said handing her a box and a few bottles that he had fished from his backpack. “He said he picked them up just for you when he was on his last mission.”

Cora took the box and a huge grin spread over her face once she brought it into the light and recognized the packaging. “I haven’t seen this since I was a kid!” she laughed, and pushed it towards Cassian. “Do know them?”

“No, sorry. Spent my childhood in a cave, remember?”

“You don’t mean that literally, do you?” she asked, raising an eyebrow and struggling to open the box.

Cassian laughed. “Also literally. Sometimes.”

“You gotta tell me one day all about your childhood. I have a feeling it was a lot more eventful than mine.” Cassian smiled bitterly, and Cora wondered if she had made a mistake bringing that up. “It’s candy,” she said showing him the contents of the newly opened box. It was full of colourful swirls made of something soft and foamy, tasting sweet and fruity. “You also get a toy with it. Everyone loved them when I was a kid. It was the first thing I would ask for every time we’d land on Coruscant.” She remembered getting all excited about the toy inside. “I didn’t know they were still making them.” Then again, she realized that she didn’t know much about the real world ever since she had joined the military. “Let’s see what we’ve got.”

She popped a candy in her mouth than fished out the toy wrapped in another colourful packaging. She struggled to open that for a little bit before giving up and ripping it open with her teeth, to Cassian’s amusement. She pulled out a small trooper, about the size of her palm.

“RC_1207,” she read on the back of the figurine. “Delta07. Doesn’t ring a bell,” she said, bringing it closer to the light, looking at the details. Back in her days most toys were spaceships. She had quite an impressive collection.

“Clone commando. Part of Delta Squad. They fought in the clone wars,” Cassian explained.

“I have a feeling I should know this, but to my defense, I slept during the military history classes.”

Cassian snorted. “How did you pass?”

“It’s a mystery to me too.”

They talked a little about their military background, eating candy and sipping the fizzy, slightly alcoholic drink Melshi had sent them. It was something Cassian had interrogated Cora about a long time ago, but this time it was different, it was a conversation between two people who had lived most of their life in the military. This time she got to ask questions too.

Although she had more formal training than him, he had a lot more combat experience, both in the regular army and special units, which came as no surprise. However, for whatever he lacked in formal training, he made up by self studying. Cora was surprised at how much theoretical knowledge he had picked up just by reading books in his free time and listening to the older officers. For Cora this level of commitment was impressive, seeing as she had never considered opening a military book by her own volition. But then again, that’s why he was an intelligence captain and she was in the military by accident.

At one point Cassian had laid back on the stone, one arm bent under his head, watching the starry sky. Cora had turned off the light and laid next to him, nestling into his side, leeching on his warmth. The conversation had naturally died down, so they just laid there in silence for a while, watching the sky. After about 37 shooting stars she had lost count, so she just enjoyed the peacefulness of the moment. From up there, no one could tell there was a war tearing the galaxy apart.

“You know, if we survive this war,” she said after a while, propping herself up to look at Cassian. Only after she said it she realized how heavy that ‘if’ felt. “If we survive this war, you’ll always have a place on my currently imaginary farm.”

Cassian turned his head slightly to look at her. There was much too dark for her to be able to read his expression. “Really?”

“Of course! I mean,” she laughed, “I can’t cook and I’ve never seen a real live goat in my life, so I’m pretty sure I’ll need your help. Someone has to shovel the manure,” she added in a dead serious tone and Cassian chuckled.

She might have made it sound like a joke, but the truth was that she wanted him to come with her. She could see herself spending the rest of her life with him on a remote farm on a planet where no one knew and feared her name. Where he didn’t have to fight anymore. Where they could spend every night watching the stars and not fear whatever the next day would bring.

“You’d really make me shovel shit?” he asked, putting an arm around her shoulders and bringing her closer to his chest.

“Yep. It’s payback. For kidnapping me.”

“I’m never gonna live that down, right?”

“Nope,” she said, laying her head on his shoulder, listening to his rhythmic heartbeat.

“Thanks,” he whispered after a few moments of silence, placing a soft kiss on her forehead.

“You’ll always be welcome, no matter where I’ll actually end up.”

She closed her eyes and sighed, content. Suddenly the stars didn’t matter and neither did the assessment, the war, or anything besides the man laying next to her.

“You passed,” said the officer, handing her a piece of paper, the proof that she was now officially allowed to take part in missions. “You did a good job. You really worried for nothing, Doc.”

Cora laughed. “I guess I was used to a different kind of skill assessment.”

“Well, you’re not DA anymore, you’re a doctor,” he reminded her, patting her on the back as they walked back to the main building. “You only need to be able to take care of yourself in case we’ll need your help in the field. You’ll be replacing Doctor Crane as an emergency field doctor, since we can’t risk sending him into battle anymore. Even so, you’re not expected to take part in more than a few missions a year.”

“That’s not so bad,” Cora concluded. She was pretty sure she could survive a few missions, especially if the only requirement was actually surviving. “Thank you, officer,” she said as they reached the ground level med bay.

“Just remember to keep in shape,” he said, before taking his leave, “and be ready for action at all times.”

Cora laughed wondering if he knew that the only reason she had passed the assignment was because she had been beaten into shape by Cassian in less than two weeks. She wondered what he was up to and if she could drop by to tell him the good news. She’ll have to ask around, Doctor Crane had to know something.

“SO?” Lewella yelled the moment she saw her entering the med bay. “Are we drinking cause you aced it or are we drinking cause you failed?”

“I’m so sorry,” Cora said, sighing dramatically, “but you’ll have to bring your happy face.”

“YESS!” she yelled, grabbing her into a bear hug, that Cora gladly returned. “I told you you’re mental. You just keep worrying about shit. I’ve told you if you weren’t ready Cassian would have done something to delay it. You know, being his girlfriend has its perks.” She sighed relieved. “I’m so proud of you.”

“I’m not his girlfriend,” Cora mumbled, her face scrunching into a frown.

“What are you then?” Lewella raised a perfectly shaped eyebrow.

“I don’t know,” she shrugged, following Lewella around as she was ordering things around the med bay. Luckily for her, there was no one there to witness their conversation. “But girlfriend sounds like something official. And I don’t know, involves going on dates or something… while we… just...”

Cora had no idea how to explain it, not even to herself. If a while ago she could have said that it’s just fucking and nothing more, now she was certain that it wasn’t just that. It was also the stolen kisses in empty corridors, the shared meals and the short moments they spent chatting every day.

“Bullshit. You’ve been going on dates. Just last night you’ve been seen nonchalantly strolling into the jungle together. In plain sight. Don’t try to deny it,”

Cora blushed furiously. She realized hadn’t even thought about the possibility of someone seeing them, let alone do something to conceal their departure. She had been so used to meeting Cassian on the training grounds that she completely disregarded the fact that maybe their meetings could be interpreted as something else.

“That wasn’t a date,” Cora denied.

“No?” Lewella’s eyes narrowed.

“No!”

“What was it then?” Lewella asked, hands placed on her hips, eyes intently fixed on Cora’s increasingly reddening face. “And don’t tell me some bullshit like ‘surveying the jungle life forms’ unless that’s a euphemism for fucking in the forest.”

“No, it wasn’t a date,” she still denied. “He just wanted to show me the shooting stars…”

“Mhm.”

“...and you can’t see them from the base because of the lights…”

“Mhm.”

“...so we had to leave. And then we climbed the ziggurat, and he gave me some candy Melshi found for me…”

“Mhm.”

“...and we had some drinks…”

“And then you kissed under the starlight.”

“Basically. Ok you know what,” Cora said, laughing to hide her embarrassment, “you may be right. However, I do think that for it to count as a date I should have been warned beforehand.”

“It counts,” Lewella said, throwing her a friendly death glare.

Cora opened her mouth to protest, but changed her mind with a sigh. “I’m sorry. I guess it’s just a little confusing for me.”

“Love is confusing in general,” her friend said, with a sympathetic smile, “and Cassian is a complicated human being. You’ll see that things aren’t very black and white when it comes to him. However, I know he’s serious about you, so there’s nothing to worry about there.”

“How do you know that?” Cora asked, suddenly interested in this conversation.

“Well, first of all, you’re my friend and I told him that if he hurts you I’m gonna kick his ass…”

“Wait! You told him you know?” Cora asked with a grimace. “You talked about this?”

“Blame Melshi. Blame it all on Melshi. But that’s beside the point.” She waved her hand dismissively. “Anyway, Cassian’s let people see you leave together. There’s no way he didn’t know that people would be watching and what they’d make of it. So you know he doesn’t treat it like a secret affair.”

“Do you think he did it on purpose?”

“No. He’s not one to try to make a spectacle out of it. But if he didn’t want to be seen, he’d make sure no one saw anything. He’s a spy after all, it’s what he’s good at.” Cora nodded in agreement before she realized she was doing it. “No, I just think he just doesn’t give a shit if people know or not. He’s not trying to hide it.”

“I thought he didn’t like people talking about him.”

“He doesn’t. But at the same time he just doesn’t care if they do. They’ll get used to it and stop talking about it eventually.”

Cora took a few seconds to imagine what it would mean for people to know about their relationship. Honestly, she had no idea what to expect. This was all new for her and it made her feel a little overwhelmed.

“Hopefully no one will,” she sighed.

“Ehhh… they’re already talking.”

“Oh no.”

“It’s not bad. I mean, Aidan is sulking, but Alara is pretty excited about it.”

“Really?”

“Yeah, she kept asking me about it this morning when she left her shift. She accused me of knowing and not telling her anything.”

“And you said…?”

“‘Oh no! What a surprise! I did not know they’ve been dancing around each other since they stopped trying to claw their eyes out. What a shock!”

“You’re a dick.”

“Big one.” She laughed. “But seriously, I just told her that as far as I know you guys are good friends and unless either of you confirm it or you start sucking each others faces in front of the Great Assembly, it’s still just rumours.”

Cora groaned leaning on a consultation table. “And I was actually in such a good mood.” She hid her face in her palms, wanting to just vanish off the face of the planet.

“And why would that change?” Lewella asked, looking at Cora over her shoulder. “Hey, stop that,” she said, prying the hands off her face. “Again, you’re making a big deal out of nothing. There will be some whispers, some giggling, but that’s it. No one cares. Plus everyone likes you so probably most of it will be pretty positive. Relax. Go eat something and then sleep, and we’ll talk tomorrow.”

“I can’t, I have to go back to work,” she said straightening her posture.

“You have the day off,” Lewella said, deadpan.

“No, Doc Crane is filling in for me.”

“Which means you have a day off. And the night shift has already been covered, so relax for a second.”

“Which means I have to see if there’s nothing that requires my attention,” she stubbornly continued. “Do you have any idea where I could find Cassian?”

“You miss him already?” Cora shot her an icy glare in response. “Haven’t seen him today. Ask around.”

“Alright, thanks. I’m gonna go up and see if Doc needs any help.”

“And then go eat and sleep.”

“Bye, Lewella!”

As she walked to the other med bay Cora was hyper aware of any laughter or whisper or odd look, but as far as she could tell, none were directed her way. Maybe the rumours hadn’t yet spread that far, or Lewella was right and no one cared. She felt relieved when she reached the familiar space, where she knew she would face no judgement.

Doctor Crane was in a really good mood when he congratulated her, giving her a warm hug and a pat on the back, together with the ‘told you there was nothing to be worried about’ that seemed to be following her around.

“Someone left a parcel for you,” he said, smiling knowingly and handing her a small plastic container with a note attached to it.

‘Congrats on passing your assessment!’ read the note, written in a small and slightly uneven writing, like they weren’t that keen on calligraphy. ‘Things have sped up a little and I’ll probably have to leave before you come back, but I already know you did a great job. Sorry for not being able to see you before I go, but there was nothing I could do to delay our departure. Take care and don’t overwork yourself while I’m away. I’ll see you when I come back. I got you something from the kitchen on my way up, hope you like it. I didn’t make it, but it’s from Dony’s personal stash, so it should be good. C.’

Cora was smiling like an idiot as she opened the box to reveal a several pastries that looked fresh and smelled really good.

“When did this arrive?” she asked the doc.

“Right after you left for the assessment. He dropped it off before being sent off world.”

“It says congratulations. Was there one in case I failed?” she asked, reading the note again.

“No.”

So he had absolutely no doubt that she’d pass it. Which was dangerous in her opinion, because she could always accidentally shoot someone and get executed for it, but the fact that he trusted her even when she didn’t made her giddy. It almost covered the sadness brought by the fact that he had left a day early and she didn’t get to say goodbye.

Fuck it, Cora, she told herself. It’s not like he’s never coming back and when he does, you’ll be getting some really great congratulatory sex. You’ve earned it. And he’s earned it too. She smiled and bit into a pastry.

“Want some pastry, Doc?” she said, pushing the box in front of him.

“I shouldn’t,” he said, rubbing his hands, but Cora could tell by his eyes that he really craved them. “Oh, why not,” he gave up and chose a sweet one, covered in icing.

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Masterlist

#cassian andor #cassian andor x ofc #cassian andor x original female character #rogue one #star wars #starlight

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