#but i hope he genuinely dies having taking down the entire fucking system

[theogony]

just speed watched the entirety of alien stage!!! some notes on my experience

what the fuck

[solena2]

So.

Tommy isn’t Theseus. Every time I see Techno’s analogy about Tommy being Theseus brought up I’m filled with endless rage and I’ve DECIDED!

That it’s about time I explained just why it’s so objectively incorrect.

-

First: a bit of backstory on Theseus, because I doubt many of you actually know much about him beyond what Techno said in his “so you want to be a hero” speech, which left out a lot of relevant details.

Theseus was a demigod with two fathers and one mother. His fathers were king Aegeus of Athens and the sea god Poseidon, and his mother was Aethra, Aegeus’ wife. Aethra raised Theseus on her own, far from Athens to avoid him being assassinated.

Aegeus left him nothing but a sword with the Athenian crest and a pair of sandals, buried under a rock so no one else could get them.

When Theseus came of age, he took the sword and sandals and headed up to Athens, slaying various monsters along the way. (It pains me to abbreviate it that much, but Techno left out everything before the Minotaur so it won’t help me much in debunking his analogy.)

Once he got to Athens, he met up with his dad, chased out his stepmom Medea, (yes, that Medea) and killed some people. Then comes the relevant part.

Crete had won a war against Athens a while back, and because of this, every seven years Athens was forced to send 14 tributes to be killed by the Minotaur. (Yes, this inspired the Hunger Games)

Theseus decided he’d volunteer and kill the Minotaur, thus ending the tribute system for good and getting one over on Athens. He promised his dad that if he won, he’d come back in a ship with white sails, as opposed to the standard mourning black that signified the death of the tributes.

So he went to Crete, met king Minos and his daughters Ariadne and Phaedra, and got sent into the labyrinth. Ariadne gave him a magic ball of string that kept him from getting lost, allowing him to find the Minotaur and then safely get out afterwards, providing he could kill it.

He killed it, led his other 13 tributes out, and sailed back home. On the way, Athena told him to leave Ariadne stranded on a tiny island in the middle of the ocean, so he immediately did so, because Theseus was an asshole.

He got home, his dad committed suicide because Theseus forgot the white sails and his dad assumed he’d died, Theseus became king and married Phaedra, and then the fun began, because again, Theseus was an asshole.

First, he cheated on Phaedra with Hippolyta, queen of the Amazons, so she left and took the kids. Next, he and his other asshole friend Pirithous decided to kidnap themselves some new wives. Theseus decided on Helen of Troy, who was a child at the time, and Pirithous decided on Persephone, which resulted in both him and Theseus getting stuck in the Underworld for a while due to pissing off Hades.

Once he got back up, he killed his son for fucking his wife, which is messed up on many levels, and then left Athens because his people were rightfully not super okay with that.

Then he goes and meets Lycomedes, who throws him off a cliff.

-

Next, let’s talk about Techno’s speech a bit.

He starts off by accusing Tommy of being a power hungry dictator (paraphrased), before asking him if he wants to be a hero.

Then, he provides what is apparently the archetypal example of heroism, something often associated with selflessness, kindness, and generally giving at least one singular solitary fuck about other people.

Theseus! Heroic hero who does heroic things, like, uhhh *checks notes* cheating on his wife, kidnapping children with plans to forcefully marry them, leaving people alone on tiny islands with no supplies, killing his kid, etc. etc...

So we’re off to a great start.

Then, he gives a short summary of Theseus’ life and times! He skips the first part of his life completely, which is hilarious to me because it’s the only time Theseus ever did anything actually heroic or selfless, and gets straight to the meat!

“Let me tell you a story, Tommy. A story of a man called Theseus. His country was in danger, he sent himself forward! Into enemy lines. He slayed the Minotaur! And saved his city. You know what they did to him, Tommy? They exiled him. He died in disgrace, despised by his people. That’s what happens to heroes, Tommy.”

-Technoblade

So first off, he doesn’t mention... really anything other than the Minotaur and the exile, which is leaving out a lot of relevant details, like why Theseus was exiled. (You know, killing his son in cold blood?)

Second, he doesn’t give details in general. Not that he should’ve given a full telling, or anything, but I’m always surprised by the shortness of this speech when I go back and listen to it. He pretty much just gives the barest bones of an argument and expects his audience to take it at face value. (Which they do, but it’s still bad practice)

From the more accurate (if still brief) summary if Theseus’ life I’ve just given, I’m sure you can see why this might be more than a bit dubious, as an analogy. Given cc!Technoblade is literally an English major, and doubtless knows significantly more about the myth than I do, I’d imagine this was never intended to be taken at face value.

Over and over again, c!Techno proves himself to be an unreliable narrator, and over and over again, the fandom at large takes his word as gospel.

-

Now, as far as a more in depth argument for Tommy as Theseus goes, I will attempt to debunk that as well, because there are some genuinely good points to be made.

First of all, most people make Dream out to be the Minotaur. Given the time this speech was made, I imagine Schlatt was the intended target of that, but with latter events in mind, Dream does make much more sense.

I’d say this is honestly pretty fair, but I don’t think Tommy takes the role of Theseus in that narrative. I’d argue he’s much more analogous to the role of Ariadne, giving the tools required to defeat Dream but ultimately not doing so through his own power, but because someone chose to take those tools and make use of them. This also provides the very interesting characterization of Punz as Theseus, which is an incredibly unique take that I hope some a Punz enthusiast does something with, because I don’t know enough about his lore to make a good analysis on that.

The idea of Schlatt as the Minotaur, as was probably intended by Techno at the time, makes much more sense, though I still think other characters fit the role better. Firstly, Schlatt wasn’t killed, he died of a heart attack, and if someone had killed him I think it’s more likely to have been Wilbur or Techno who did it than Tommy, as Tommy was still very hopeful and idealistic at the time, at least compared to his character now. You could posit Tommy as Ariadne again in this situation, given he was the one to mastermind the final charge, and though I think Tommy as Ariadne is an idea that’s worth further exploration, I’d say Fundy futs the Ariadne role here much better, with him giving the spy’s diary before being effectively shunned and left out in the cold by both Pogtopia and Manburg, much like Ariadne was abandoned in the original myth.

I’d posit the Theseus in this scenario as Techno, Wilbur, or possibly Philza, as they were the ones to actually kill things in the 16th, though Techno and Wilbur’s killings were more in the metaphorical sense, taking the second life of L’manburg.

As for the exile, Tommy exile was alike to that of Theseus only in concept. Both were sent from their kingdoms for a crime, resulting in a falling out with someone close to them, and had a precarious relationship with heights while they were gone, but that’s about where the similarities end and even then they’re superficial.

First of all, Tommy’s exile was far more because Dream was looking for an excuse to do it than because briefing actually means anything on the SMP, given how Dream had been griefing bases and blaming Tommy for it for a while before it went down. (Fun fact, Bad and Skeppy were going to burn one of his discs over this, but one of them got sick so they had to cancel the stream.)

Theseus’ exile, on the other hand, was entirely deserved, especially when you consider how serious a crime killing family was in Ancient Greek culture. It was pretty much the biggest no-no in existence, and I’m almost surprised he wasn’t just straight up executed for it.

Second, Tommy’s falling out with Tubbo was almost entirely due to outside forces, (Dream) rather than because anything Tommy had done. Though Tommy’s cavalierness towards the trial and attempts to threaten Dream with Spirit doubtless didn’t help things, Dream surrounding L’manburg in obsidian walls and threatening them to exile Tommy was entirely his own choice, and not something that can be pinned on Tommy, no matter what the apologists may say.

Meanwhile, Theseus’ falling out with Phaedra had begun long before his exile with him cheating on her. Him killing his son was merely the last in a long line of dominos to completely destroy their relationship.

Last, Tommy nearly killing himself is very different from Theseus being pushed off a cliff. Tommy’s near suicide was the direct result of physical and emotional abuse at the hands of c!Dream for what was canonically, I believe, several months? (Correct me if I’m wrong on that one.) Tommy almost jumping off a pillar because he was deliberately isolated from his support systems is nothing like Theseus being killed because he was a cocky asshole who thought he was god.

-

So that’s why I don’t think Tommy is anything like Theseus, and why I’m filled with endless rage by the completely uncritical acceptance of this parallel, but it’s not the whole reason it pisses me off.

It also pisses me off because, as stated earlier, cc!Techno is an English major. He knew what he was doing with this. The fandom’s insistence on refusing to acknowledge his character as an unreliable narrator is, in my opinion, acting as a massive kneecap to what could be a great analysis of how he thinks.

Specifically: why does c!Technoblade think Tommy is like Theseus?

Of all the Greek heroes to pick, why that one? Was it just the tantalizing opportunity to parallel Schlatt with a horned monster, or was it because c!Techno has some genuine in-character reason to think this myth specifically applies to Tommy.

Now, we all know people in the SMP have a habit of analogizing Wilbur and Tommy. The assumption Tommy wanted to be president, the belief that Tommy nominated Tubbo directly, the belief that he was intentionally deceiving Techno about Pogtopia’s intentions regarding Manburg... all of these stem from Wilbur. There are more cases of this, of course, but several analyses have been done in the subject already, and this is long enough without more padding.

So why does Techno think Tommy is Theseus? Well, it’s simple, isn’t it?

Wilbur is Theseus.

To be continued, because this is already too long and my brain hurts.

[thefanficmonster]

Finally, You’re Back

Part 1: ‘There You Are’

Karl Heisenberg (Resident Evil 8: Village) x Reader (Gender Neutral)

Warnings: Mentions of Injury and Human Experimentation, Insecurity, Swearing, Spoilers for RE8

Genre: Angst, Romance, Some Humor and Fluff too

Summary: And there they are, back in that village half a decade later to retrieve what’s theirs but unaware of what they’ll find in place of what they remember.

Requested by one Anon and the idea was modified by another Anon, so thank you both so much for sharing your creativity with me, it’s really been a huge honor to write a fic inspired by such a beautiful idea. Love you both! 💕

If again is what he hoped and prayed for, why is he damning it now Why does he resent himself for having hope When he previously wished nothing but to have it Why does their presence hurt When it used to heal him Why do they remind him of how much of a monster he is When previously they were the only one making him human Why is he worthy of their presence When he’s only become worse They upheld their promise But the person they are coming back to is no longer alive He’s taken his place and he hates himself for it He’d kill himself to get him back He’d do just about anything Just to prevent those eyes from seeing them differently Just so he can greet them with open arms and say:

“Finally, you’re back“

But as of now all he can say is:

“You’re back, but the one you’re searching for will never return“

He was made aware of their presence the day of their arrival in the village. He knew all about their venture, going around the village asking for him to be looked at with terror by the villagers they came across. He watched as all the people refused to tell them his whereabouts, claiming they didn’t know or they couldn’t tell. No matter what bribery or convincing method Y/N tried to use, the villagers refused to stand down from their determined ground.

They refused to give up though, going against his prayers that they would. They might have felt discouraged but they never, not even for a second, thought to give it up. Never did they even consider forgetting him as an option. It’s been half a decade and they still remember him, they still have the will to look for him despite all the time that has passed, despite the odds that aren’t in their favor, despite the lack of help from anyone.

They keep going, keep trying. They keep driving the sword deeper into his chest, piercing his heart.

If only they could accept me like this. If only they could look at a monster the same way they looked at that boy they met five years ago...

His mistake, although blatantly obvious even to him, is not something he’s willing to correct. He doesn’t want to give them a chance. And the answer to the question many - even he himself - would ask ‘why’, that answer he doesn’t want revealed.

Because he knows it and would do anything in his power to keep it from swimming to the surface.

The answer? - It’s because he’s afraid. Terrified really.

What of? That’s the part he’s not sure about. Is he afraid of them being scared, disgusted and repulsed by him? Or is he afraid of the complete opposite - that they won’t bat an eye at the change he’s undergone. That latter option leaves him with a bitter taste in his mouth, his stomach turning. He doesn’t believe he deserves that reaction, after all he’s done, after becoming the monster he is now, he’s done his best to not even think about them - attempts that have failed miserably. Not a day has gone by that they haven’t been on his mind. He thought getting rid of the dog tag necklace - the promise - would cleanse his system of their memory that’s etched itself so deeply within his mind and soul but his hands refused to cooperate when his brain kept telling them to lift that necklace off his neck. He couldn’t do it, and he hated himself because of it for a while, but if he’s being honest he felt more relieved than anything else. He doesn’t want the only real memory, the only pleasant memory of his human days gone. He doesn’t want to wipe Y/N from his mind, they’re the only thought that still sends his heartbeat speeding in a positive way. He knows he’s a coward for what he does, hiding in the shadows and watching them waste their time with the villagers who think they are downright insane for going around looking for Karl Heisenberg whom the entire village knows as Lord Heisenberg. Not using his title each time they ask never fails to bring a smile to his face. It’s a relief that they at least have a nice picture of him that has stuck with them. And if it’s up to him, that’s the picture that will remain, they won’t see him like this, this new him won’t replace the old him in their mind. He’d do anything to make sure of it.

That being said, you can imagine the massive shock and mini heart attack he experienced one day when his motion detectors picked up on someone entering the factory in broad daylight. Rushing to the camera display, the briefest glimpse was enough to make out who this foolish person looking for their death was. 

Goddammit, Y/N!

It was no longer a danger to his sanity, their presence at the factory was an even worse danger for them. His creations wouldn’t think twice about slicing their tiny frame in half with their implemented chainsaws, designed to do exactly what he’s hoping they won’t get the chance to do this time. Running to the elevator, all he can do is silently pray he reaches them before they come across one of his minions.

What he’s going to say to them? How he’s gonna greet them? He hasn’t got the slightest clue, all he knows is that he has to get to them asap.

Running out of the elevator once it settles on the ground floor, he almost crashes directly into them, eyes wide with shock as the adrenaline is still pumping throughout his body despite the immense amount of relief he feels wash over him. He doesn’t notice at first, but when he does his heart sinks: their gaze is empty and their face unreadable. He can’t bear to have them looking at him like that, it hurts more than physically hitting him. Hell, it hurts more than the experiments Miranda did to him.

“How’d you find me?“ He decides to end the silence for his sanity’s sake, his heart heavy and aching in his chest.

They shrug, “Wasn’t easy, I’ll have to admit, you’ve trained the villagers well, none of em wanted to give me even a clue.“ They give him a small smile before looking around at the factory walls and everything lining them, “And then I put it together on my own. It was a bit of a stretch...“ they trail off, their eyes scanning him from head to toe, “...but I see it was a lucky one.“

He can’t help but huff, more out of disgust for himself than anything else, “If you call this lucky you’ve gotta have a few screws loose.”

Much to his surprise, this remark earns him a genuine, wholehearted laugh from Y/N, “Oh Karl, didn’t you pick up on my loose screws back when we first met? That’s odd, people usually take one look and can already tell.”

He scoffs, letting a small smile slip onto his face before he chases it away, forcing himself to maintain the seriousness, “I can’t believe how foolish you are. Didn’t you, even for a second, think there was maybe a good reason why people didn’t want to give you my whereabouts?”

“Oh I didn’t need to think about it!“ They say, lifting a pointer finger in the air as if to emphasize their point, “They were pretty clear when they were calling you stuff like ‘monster’ and ‘cruel Lord’ or whatever.“

Heisenberg’s eyes widen in an instant, “So you knew? You knew I was...I wouldn’t be the same as you remember me?” He asks, his jaw almost reaching the floor.

They nod nonchalantly, “I mean, I was sure of that part, it’s been half a decade, after all. Of course, I didn’t expect such a drastic change but it changes nothing. The villagers made it all sound super scary and dramatic...”

Karl doesn’t get confused often. However, right now, they’ve got him completely flabbergasted. “You were told about me...about me being what I am and you still showed up and walked into this place everyone fears like you own it? Where the fuck is your self-preservation instinct?!”

With an eye-roll, Y/N pushes past him, entering the elevator and walks over to the buttons to choose a floor, “Up your ass, Heisenberg. Right next to the stick that’s got you in such a foul mood. Is this how you welcome back an old friend?” Though the words themselves were harsh, they spoke them in such a way and with a sincere look in their eyes that they had the complete opposite effect of what they’d usually have. Hell, he wants to laugh at the vocabulary on its own, it’s so refreshing to hear someone use those terms and speak so freely around him, unfazed by his powers. To be fair, they’re probably not even aware he has any.

Looking at them now, their intense gaze telling him loud and clear that they’re completely unfazed, has him going soft. They’re still his connection to the humanity he’s lost, he’s still clinging onto it thanks to them. And while he still believes he doesn’t deserve to preserve any last piece of it, he’s glad that he’s not the judge of that. The punishment is not his to decide. It’s theirs. And who knows, allowing him to keep a tiny fragment of his humanity may be the ultimate punishment but he doesn’t know it yet. Regardless, he’s happy with it as long as it means he has them by his side to carry said punishment out.

When all they get in response to their words is a laugh they too let a smile lighten up their features, “There you go, knock some humor into you.” They turn to look at the buttons briefly before locking their gaze onto him once again, “I like what you did with the place. Care to show me around?”

He shakes his head as his laughter dies down, “You won’t like it.”

Y/N rolls their eyes yet again, “Leave that up for me to decide, old man.”

A frown comes across Heisenberg’s face, “Old man? How dare you?”

The sound of their laughter almost manages to wipe the frown off his face. Almost. “Old man who can pull off even a century old dog tag necklace.” They say, sizing up the necklace resting over his chest which he automatically reaches out to touch as a result of her remark. “You can keep it, by the way. I don’t need it back. I’ll be sticking around for some time after all.”

Before he can even process what they said, they’ve pulled him into the elevator and pressed the button for the top floor, looking out of the open side of it to be able to see the inside of the factory as the metal box keeps climbing, carrying them with it. Their back is turned to him so he can’t see the look on their face but he can only hope it’s not one of horror or disgust. If he were to receive that look from them his heart would shatter on the spot. So he’d rather they don’t turn around - both for him not to be able to see them grimacing and so they can’t see him staring at them with that look in his eyes.

Look of adoration he’s never given anyone before nor will he ever give to anyone else. And so, all the pieces of his soul have found their proper spots.

Thanks to Y/N.

Finally, you’re back.

[roobylavender]

What do you like about the Nolan movies, if you don't mind explaining? Most people don't seem to enjoy them so I'm surprised you do

mostly i adore them ideologically. i don't think nolan always executes a clean plot while making the trilogy, there are obv very concerning casting choices, and his white liberalism does reveal itself every now and then bc he presents interesting questions about the system only to more often than not leave them hanging in the air by the end. but, why i tend to be okay with bearing with all of this is bc his take on the bat is genuinely wonderful to me. i even think there are ways he expands on the original foundations of the character's philosophy that are better than some avenues comic writers have explored

what i think the trilogy emphasizes so well from start to finish is that it believes in broos and it believes in the bat. it's a very hopeful take on the character and despite broos needing to go through stages of growth and maturation as a person, there's never a feeling that he's being condescended to. he's criticized for his initially limited ideas regarding justice (whether this is by rachel, ducard, harvey, etc.), but he's allowed to learn and help his understanding of the world evolve so that he can be a better hero by the time he puts on the mask. the broos who decides he wants to seek justice for his parents is a very naive, emotional idealist. the broos who decides to put on the mask has a vision and understands what it is that he seeks to do to save his city. he's nowhere close to being the perfect hero, but his motivations and compassion for people are taken seriously, and that's something that i think is sorely missing from not only a lot of adaptations but also the comics in general in this modern age

i am also a really huge fan of how nolan approaches martyrdom and heroism as concepts. i'm sure people have convinced themselves that any version of broos who can let go of the mantle is not a good adaptation but i honestly beg to differ. the longevity of the character and dc's understanding that they will never sell more than when they're prioritizing broos is what's lead to him never leaving the mantle long-term, not who he actually is as a person. personally i think he either should have died or retired years ago. there are two things i love about the trilogy's approaches to broos leaving the mantle:

(1) they allow broos to understand that simply being the bat is not the end-all, be-all solution. there is more to heroism than solely pursuing your own vision and giving a big fuck you to all other options. i know a lot of people hate the ending to the second movie and how it allegedly positions him as a murderer, but the thing is, broos knows he didn't kill anyone. he's not actually a murderer. he's simply someone humble and compassionate enough to understand that the hero the city needs in that moment isn't him, and that he has to step down so that the city can survive under the weight of its own desperation for hope. it's an entirely selfless moment and i love it bc i really do think modern writers have convinced themselves that the best way to write broos is to have him entirely obsessed with his masked identity when imo it's far more interesting to explore broos recognizing there are other avenues for justice and other positions he can take upon to help the city. understanding that the bat is not the only solution to the city's problems is very humble, and by extension, it's why i also adore the trilogy's attention to who broos is in his daily life bc it recognizes that there are moments for him to be heroic just as himself too (the second movie does a marvelous job of this in particular)

(2) they allow broos to move on and understand that the burden is not his alone to bear! another thing people seem to hate about these movies is how they have broos retiring. and i kind of understand, what with him being gone for eight years and then having a last huzza before taking the mask off permanently, but i also wish people approached that development from a purely ideological standpoint. there are obv problems with john being a cop and like i wish i wish i wish he wasn't one but the plot line with him and broos is genuinely one of my favorites and i think it's so cool and full circle that broos starts the trilogy wanting to be a symbol to inspire people towards doing good, and that's exactly what happens in the end. he inspires someone, he realizes that he doesn't have to shoulder the fate of the city all alone, and he passes on the mantle to someone he knows shares his compassion and vision for justice. it's another beautiful, selfless moment and i almost wonder if people hate it bc they have this idea that broos can only ever be dedicatedly obsessed and close minded wrt the masked identity. i know for many people that is the appeal of the character/phenomenon and its longevity, but for storytelling purposes, i think allowing bruce to be selfless and humble enough to entrust the city in the hands of other people like him is very inspiring. i wish comic had done it years ago and let him retire or at least take a backseat role rather than making him into the obsessive micromanager forever and always

overall nolan to me is someone who genuinely understands and believes in the heroism that not just the bat but any hero is supposed to evoke and then expands on that concept in interesting ways by tackling martyrdom as well. the plots of the movies are clunky as hell, much of the action is a bore, and by the last movie nolan has gotten so ahead of himself in terms of ideas and plots he wants to tackle that it's all falling apart. all of this is true. but ideologically the themes of the movies are what really draw me in and i don't think we are ever going to get that hopeful and sympathetic of a take on the character again, unfortunately. the newest movie is enough of a testament to that since it can't even manage to believe in broos or his vision and instead has to chide him for being an obsessive shut-in with no eyes for anything or anyone else until the very end of the film

[crossdressingdeath]

Seeing your post about how JYL has a 'ranking system' in her head when it comes to WWX and JC hits so hard, but honestly, the more I read into the Jiang family dynamics, the more I agree. JYL obviously loves WWX, but I don't know if she's capable of putting him above JC. And we see her defending him, and she obviously gives her life for him, but she was also reacting in the moment. Not to speak lightly of her sacrifice of course, but I just feel like there are certain limits to how 1/7

far she's actually willing to go for him. I was initially one of JYL's staunch defenders, and always said that, unlike JC, she didn't have the same amount of political power as him, wasn't in a position to do anything about the Wens, ect. But...I'm starting to question if that's really true. JYL may not have had much direct political power herself, but she was the sister of a sect leader, and even if JC was unwilling to help, JYL had just married into the richest and most powerful sect 2/7

at the time. It was a love marriage, JZX adored her and would've done anything for her if she'd just bothered to ask him for it. Madam Jin also cared for her and respected her, and between her and JZX, had JYL actually bothered to tell them anything, I'm sure they would have been able to sort something out. Or she could have had it as a condition of her marriage - I'm not marrying into the sect that's trying to kill my brother unless you tell your father to stop. Had it been reversed and 3/7

The Lans were calling for JYL and JC’s deaths, no way in hell WWX would’ve just married into the sect, regardless of LWJ’s involvement. Instead she just doesn’t really do anything. We see no proof that she ever tried to see WWX after the wedding dress incident, which — god I instantly saw it as a sweet gesture, but now it just bothers me, because your brother is living in squalor, and you decide to show if the expensive dress that you’ll be 4/7

wearing when marrying into the sect that's trying to kill him, you bring along one bowl of soup for him, and don't even try to explain WHY you're marrying into said sect. Beyond that, we don't see a single moment up until her death where JYL actually seems concerned about WWX, puts in effort to try to see him - she doesn't even ask him how he's doing the one time she does come to see him. When we compare that to how WQ treats WN, yeah, she's outwardly not as loving or sweet, but she 5/7

goes to the ends of the earth for her brother, even going as far as to betray her sect and risk WRH's wrath because he asks her to. And now we come back to that ranking system you mentioned before - yeah, it really does seem like JYL places her blood family first, which definitely hurts, but in comparison, despite only knowing him for a shorter amount of time, WQ truly grows to think of WWX as a second brother. And she treats him as such, at an equal level with WN - after JZX dies 6/7

WQ doesn't attack WWX for what happened. She doesn't try to come up with a way to sacrifice WWX instead and let WN survive in his stead. She and WN, two people who have become WWX's family, both give their lives to protect both him and the rest of their remaining family members. And it's just frustrating to think that the one member of WWX's adopted family who we all thought treated him like an actual brother, might not have really been on his side after all. 7/7

Yes! To start with the wedding dress thing, because it drives me nuts when people treat that like some super sweet act of love: JYL shows up in the Burial Mounds with no money, no sign of having tried to talk the sects around, no news outside of her own, no food beyond a couple bowls of soup (one of which she gives to the guy who can’t eat), and doesn’t so much as ask WWX if he’s okay. She literally came all that way to have a family meal, ask WWX to name the future nephew it’s becoming increasingly clear he’ll never meet, and tell him about her impending marriage into the family that’s currently doing everything in its power to destroy WWX’s life. Like, if you think about it that entire visit is such a slap in the face; “Here’s a bowl of soup while the people under your protection are starving, oh by the way I’m going to marry the son of the guy actively trying to get you killed, okay bye”. All you can say in regards to her helping WWX is that she does potentially manage to persuade JZX to invite him to JL’s one month celebration, but if memory serves the novel never actually specifies whose idea that was and it was JZX who decided to go get WWX after JGY told him about seeing JZXun heading in the direction of the Burial Mounds. And even then JZX does the same thing JYL does; sees WWX outnumbered and surrounded and tells him to stand down. At least in JZX’s case you could argue that the actual fighting hadn’t broken out and JZX probably trusted in his authority to be able to sort the situation out so long as WWX wasn’t actually acting aggressive (or defensive, rather), and he’s also physically strong enough that he may well have been able to intervene if the cultivators had attacked. JYL, when she does the same thing, has no authority and no physical power to defend WWX with. And yeah, both JZX and Madam Jin adore JYL, and neither of them seem super fond of JGS (JZX respects his father, but I don’t get the sense he loves him); if JYL had asked them for help it’s entirely possible they would’ve started at least circulating her version of events and demanding a proper investigation into what happened. But there’s no mention of her so much as trying, and she doesn’t offer to ask them when she visits WWX.

And yeah, compare WQ to JYL and it’s... well. WQ is so quick to offer WWX her love and care? She’s harsh, but she loves him and views him and WN on such equal footing that she and WN willingly hand themselves over to the Jins for WWX’s sake without her so much as bringing up the possibility of saving WN instead. There’s no ranking for WQ; WWX and WN are her brothers, and she loves them, and she’d do anything to protect them. When it becomes clear she can’t save WN (like hell the sects would let him live, and by this point it’s pretty clear that WWX won’t be able to protect them forever) she throws her whole weight behind defending the brother she thinks she might still be able to save, even if it means bringing WN with her to die. WQ knows WWX for... a year or two? Maybe? The timeline is a little hazy. Not long compared to JYL, anyway. And yet she’s willing to walk all the way to Lanling to die in the hope of saving him. It’s for her whole family, yes, but she makes a point of including him. Basically, I think this fandom needs more stuff wherein the Jiangs and Wens survive and the Wens are fully like “Our brother now, you don’t deserve him”.

The thing with JYL is... she loves WWX, she genuinely does, but he is never going to be first for her. To the point where she outright enables JC’s abuse, in places; she always expects WWX to be the one to grin and bear it. Hell, one of their first conversations involves JYL cheerily allowing WWX to cover up JC locking him out of his bedroom and scaring him out into the woods by threatening to set dogs on him! Let me rephrase that: she allows a traumatized nine-year-old to hide the fact that the kid her dad expects him to share a room with locked him out of said room on his FIRST NIGHT and threatened him with his LITERALLY WORST FEAR, and as far as we know makes no attempt to tell JFM herself. To keep JC out of trouble. That is such a thing! WWX was scared to the point of running away and JFM expects him to share a room with the person responsible for that and JYL goes along with him promising not to tell JFM so that JC won’t get in trouble! And from that day forwards everything is just “Boys will be boys” to her. Like, let me put it this way. Before LWJ (and arguably the Wens before that, although WWX saw himself more as protector than protected there) JYL was the person WWX trusted to protect and care for and comfort him above all others, yeah? She’s the one he thinks of as having his back? He doesn’t tell her about JC trying to kill him. JC tries to kill WWX three times before JYL’s death, and WWX doesn’t say a word to her about any of them. You could argue that he doesn’t want to involve her, but... JYL pretty clearly takes JC’s side every time JC starts having a go at WWX. When he chases him out of their room, when he starts snapping about how annoying WWX is, when he stabs WWX... She never outright says it, but there really does come a point where by staying neutral you’re siding with the aggressor, and she reaches that point a lot. Hell, the stabbing is one of those aforementioned near-murders! JC stabbed him! According to WWX (who downplays serious injuries, he never exaggerates them) he had to hold his guts in! WWX is talking about a pretty fucking serious injury (and JYL grew up in a cultivation sect, I don’t believe for a second she doesn’t at least know what constitutes a serious injury) while JC whines about a broken arm like it’s worse than having to physically hold your guts in until you can reach a doctor and JYL acts like those are equal! JC could easily have killed WWX and has enough training with the sword to know better than to go for a blow like that in a staged fight and JYL doesn’t even suggest he should apologise.

Honestly? The more I think about JYL the more it pisses me off that she’s treated like WWX’s best sister more than WQ is. Imagine WQ seeing one brother stab the other in the gut and take the former’s side because the latter broke the former’s arm. Imagine WQ so much as considering allowing a child to cover up the kid he’s supposed to share a room with locking him out and scaring him into running away. She wouldn’t! Because WQ sees her brothers as equals. She won’t pick WN over WWX just because they’re blood siblings; she loves them both, and will choose based on who she thinks is in the right. And she wouldn’t just stay neutral to avoid rocking the boat, oh no. If WQ heard WWX say that WN stabbed him and did enough damage that he had to hold his guts in... oh boy would WN have a bad day. The thing with JYL is that she seems like a good sister in comparison to the rest of the Jiangs; stick canon JYL into a family that genuinely loves WWX and sees him as equal to their other children, and she would not look anywhere near as good.

[lag1995-fics]

Hey can I request a fanfic for Evan's character kit walker and song a turning page from twilight?

I hope you like it thank you for requesting. ❤️

Turning Page

Song:Turning Page by Sleeping at Last

Pairing: Kit Walker X Reader

Warnings: some cussing

Words: 2010

Summary:Kit’s highschool sweetheart waits for him

Song Fic Masterlist

////::::////

You and Kit Walker had been high school sweethearts, he was your first love; and if you were being honest he was your only love. You guys had mutually broken things off after highschool when you had gotten into an out of state college.

When you came back the first time after getting your degree, you found out that Kit had moved on and married a woman called Alma. You weren’t jealous, a little disappointed maybe, but you were genuinely happy for them. Kit was a good man and you had always known he would make a good husband. You couldn’t put yourself through watching them though, you had never given up on your relationship with Kit. He had ruined you for other men. You had other boyfriends during school but the longest relationship had only lasted a month.

You decided to move back to Boston leaving your small town life behind. You loved a relatively happy life in the city, distracting yourself from the life you wished you had. You had gotten a degree in education, so you threw yourself into teaching children.

You had been happy to hear that they had apparently apprehended the serial killer, who went by the bloody face moniker. Well you had until they said it was Kit Walker, you reasoned with yourself that it had to be someone else named Kit Walker. Your Kit would never be able to do something as heinous as what they claimed Bloodyface did. Your Kit was a gentle soul, who would do his best to bring happiness and peace to anyone he might meet.

When you saw his face flash on the evening news that night you had broken down and sobbed. Kit was being framed for a murder he hadn’t committed. He wouldn’t even kill a spider much less the woman he married. You had started making calls trying to get on as a character witness. That whole town was racist and this stunk of a town coverup.

They wouldn’t let you be his witness though, they claimed you hadn’t spoken to him for over six years. You had screamed and cried even harder when they rejected you. You had never stopped loving Kit even if it had to be one sided from afar. You wrote him letters trying to convey to him that people still believed in him. That you would always love and believe him.

He never wrote you back. The guards at the prison who checked his mail had scoffed thinking of you as some loon and had trashed them. When he was committed to Briarcliff Asylum they too disposed of the many letters.

When you hear of Kit’s death you fall into a dark depression. You’re barely hanging on, when you happen to skim a blip in a newspaper. You almost choke when you see his face. He’s a bit older, but it is unmistakably Kit Walker. The article however was not a happy one: the man’s wife Alma had murdered a woman that lived with them in a fit of apparent hysteria.

Without preamble you packed a suitcase and began the trip back home. Kit would need you, not as a lover, that ship had sailed but he would need you as a friend. He was almost entirely alone now and with two toddlers to boot. You couldn’t help but feel the joythat he was alive even though it was steeped in sadness at his tragic loss.

Alma had been a sweet girl from what she could tell. She had never met her in person but if Kit married her it was apparent that she was a good person. She had been missing for so long though, she had been traumatized and snapped. It wasn’t her fault that bad things had happened and lord knows that the country's mental health system left a lot to be desired.

It had taken you almost all day to find the farmhouse that Kit lived in. It was dusk and the sun was starting to set. You took a steadying breath hoping that you weren’t overstepping any boundaries. You had flown out of the house with barely any thought, relying mostly on instinct. You hadn’t been able to help Kit when he was accused of being Bloodyface but you could certainly help now without the government involved.

You eased yourself out of the old Buick you were driving and shut the door. You began to make your way to the door but it opened before you got the chance to knock. There he was, he was still handsome as ever, but he had lost that carefree air he had when they were young. You supposed you had probably lost that too.

“I already told you I’m not doing an interview, leave my family in peace!” His voice was angry and you were now unsure if you had made the right decision. Then as if he hadn’t really been looking at you before, his eyes widened.

“Y/n?” He asked questioningly the anger had drained from his voice.

“Oh Kit I heard what happened I needed to make sure you were okay,” you explained trying not to cringe. You probably seemed like a crazy person showing up at your highschool sweetheart’s home after his wife had murdered someone.

“I thought you lived in Boston?” He questioned, still surprised at your arrival.

“I do, I hopped in my car as soon as I heard, I thought you might need some help. If I’m imposing I apologize… I can leave,” you were rambling, it was something you were prone to when nervous.

“No! Uh I mean no, you could never be an imposition doll. Come inside, I didn’t think anyone cared about me anymore,” he lamented, meeting her halfway on her way to the house. You got a better look at him up close. He still had beautiful brown eyes but there were dark bruise like bags underneath them. You could tell he hadn’t been sleeping well, and really who would after something like this happened.

You followed Kit inside his home, it still smelt of the bleach they used to get up the blood, but it was warm and cozy. You looked over and could see the two toddlers playing together on a rug with some blocks.

“This is Julia and Thomas,” he said, gesturing to the kids who barely spared them a glance.

“They’re precious,” you commented.

“Yeah they are pretty great, must take after their old man,” he bragged teasingly but it was half hearted.

“Kit,Are you okay?” You asked, laying a hand on.

“I will be,” there was a determination in his voice this time looking at the children playing happily unaware.

“If you need anything at all just tell me” you begged, hoping he would take the help. This trip wasn’t entirely unselfish, you had missed Kit the moment you left for college and the feeling had never left. It hadn’t faded with time like these things are meant to do, you had never stopped loving Kit and you would wait a thousand years if that’s what it took. You didn’t expect any romance, you knew that ship had sailed, but you would be there for your dearest and oldest friend.

“Don’t you have a life or a lover in Boston, surely you don’t want to spend time with someone as pathetic as me.” His self deprecating comment made you jerk him by the arm so he was facing you.

“You listen to me Kit Walker, you are one of the most gentle humans I’ve ever met. You are an incredibly good man and you deserve all the love and help in the world. Let someone help you, you don’t have to go through this alone,” You declared, staring directly into his brown eyes with your own y/e/c ones.

He only nodded before taking you into a friendly hug holding you close to his chest, his head buried into your shoulder. You felt a shuddering sob wrack through him. You only held him, you didn’t know how much time had passed as you held him close letting him sob. When he finally pulled away you could see the gratitude in his eyes.

****

Days bled into weeks and weeks bled into months as you stayed with Kit. Things for the most part remained platonic apart from a few lingering glances from each other. You didn’t want to put any pressure on the relationship. You had meant what you said when you told him you were here to help him. You would love Kit however you could get him be it romantic or platonic. You would always wait on him.

When he had come home one day in tears you had just held him. Alma had died that day and Kit had lost his wife for a third time and the children had lost their mother’s.

More time would pass and things became increasingly comfortable between you two. You had taken a teaching position at the elementary school the next town over and Kit continued to work as a mechanic.

It had been a day like many others when it happened. Kit had come home covered in a layer of oil and grease and you had been making dinner. After he had showered, he came into the kitchen to watch you cook and help Julia and Thomas with their homework. It was really quite domestic.

After dinner you had wrestled the children into bed and retired to the living room to watch television. You had felt the burning of Kit’s eyes on you and you turned to look at him pulling a face.

“Why did you stay?” He asked with a puzzled look on his face, “Your help has been indispensable, but it’s a year now and your still here. Aren’t you tired of me yet?”

“Oh, I can start looking for an apartment. I never wanted to overstay my welcome. I guess I just got comfortable being around you and the twins, is like breathing air” You rambled hiding your burning cheeks. He wouldn’t take that though and he grabbed you by your shoulders making you look at him.

“Doll I’m not kicking you out, you can stay forever if you want. I just don’t understand why you would want to stay with me,” he said and you gulped looking into his eyes.

“Oh Kit you’re the best person I know. Did you not get that with the hundreds of letters I sent to you in prison and while you were at Briarcliff” you joked trying to lessen the tension. You had never brought up the letters before you were honestly pretty embarrassed by them.

“What letters!?” He pulled back looking hard at you.

“I wrote to you everyday up until they announced your death” you explained cheeks filled with liquid fire.

“Fuck! He cursed getting up and pacing.

“I never got a single letter, y/n” he said and you not knowing what to do approached him opening your arms. He fell into your embrace burying his face in your hair.

“I’m sorry,” you croaked unsure of what to say.

“Don’t be sorry doll, but it still doesn’t explain why you want to be around me” He started in again and you couldn't help the anger that spilled forward. You took your fist and hit his chest.

“Because I love you dummy, I never stopped,” his eyes went wide at your declaration.

“What?” He asked dumbly, his limbs going numb.

“I love you Kit and I’ll always be there for you if you need me. If it’s only as a friend I can live with that, at least I get to be with you,” Your cheeks burned for the third time in what seemed like an hour.

Kit not knowing what to say decided to act on instinct. He gathered you in his arms and pressed his lips against your own in a searing kiss. You clutched at each other desperately the tension finally snapped.

“I love you too Doll.”

Requests are open drop a song or a prompt in my ask box ❤️

[felswritingfire]

Thoughts on Leona Kingscholar? And Ruggie? I like them both! Especially that feral little gremlin!

That's all the damn warning you get, Anon. You just opened a can of worms that you had no idea about.

ALSO, FOR THE REST OF YOU THERE'S GONNA BE FUCKING SPOILERS- LIKE, B I G T I M E SPOILERS FOR CHAPTER 2 AND RUGGIE'S B-DAY-

So, pls watch yourself UwU

Ok, so, confession time: Ruggie is hands down one of my favorite boys. He is my bread and butter- my cinnamon apple, if you will. I just- ABSOLUTELY L O V E HIM.

If he told me to walk of a cliff, I'd do it. He'd just have to ask me- he wouldn't even have to use Laugh with Me on me. I'd just- fucking- Y E E T myself,

And now that I know about Rug's backstory??? Like??? Oml, Granny, I'll kill for you too, you beautiful woman. Also I relate a bit too hard to Rug growing up in poverty. Like, can understand why he's such a sneaky bitch. It's hard when you don't know when your next meal is coming. Also he's a genuinely sweet guy?? Like, once you get past the trust issues and shit- like, what a baby I just-

I love him.

Easy. Simple. Ruggie Bucchi??? Absolutely adore- he's my discord icon. The first character I saw from this game.

And then we get to the fucking main show: Leona fucking Kingscholar himself.

I am about to make a lot of people either very pissed off or very emotional and either way, I'm just gonna fucking dump out EVERYTHING. So, sorry in advance.

So, I can write a 50 page essay on why this motherfucker pisses me off. MLA format with references.

The sheer audacity of this fucking man infuriates the shit out of me and I think the main reason is how the hell they presented his backstory. Because, on one hand: it is absolute shit he was pushed to the side and treated as second best compared to his older brother; on the other hand, the only glimpse we see of this is the servants whispering about him (which, again, that fucking sucks and they had NO right) when he was younger and then we immediately are presented with Ferena actually fucking being concerned about him after he wasn't at the party. Did he come in a little aggressive? Sure. But immediately after that he tries to talk to Leona and gets shut down, which, I understand has to do with his inferiority complex but the sheer audacity of this man- I fucking- he's presented to have this damn support system and yet he's too prideful to take it.

If we're supposed to feel sympathy (aside from our own experiences, because I know a very dear friend of mine who adores him and understands where he's coming from, so no- no shame in genuinely liking him- I just want to beat him up because he's such a dick), they royally fucked it up.

AND DON'T EVEN GET ME STARTED IN HOW HE MANIPULATED ALL OF SAVANACLAW, TRIED TO FUCKING COMMIT MURDER ON A WHOLE OTHER DORM AND RUGGIE- LIKE, Y'ALL, HOW DO WE JUST GLOSS OVER THAT SHIT??? HE FUCKING TRIED MURDERING PEOPLE LIKE- Look, LeLe, I know you're angry about losing to Daisomnia all the time, but, man, fuck you. You're an absolute cock sucker and you do deserve to get punched and I will never forgive you for trying to turn fucking Ruggie into dust after you ripped away all the hope you gave to your entire dorm-

OH MY GOD-

MOTHER-

FUCKING-

ANOTHER REASON LEONA PISSES ME RIGHT THE FUCK OFF. HE'S RIDING HIS FUCKING PITY DICK SO FUCKING HARD THAT HE CAN'T EVEN SEE THE FACT THAT ALL THESE PEOPLE LOOK UP TO HIM. LIKE, FUCKING, GET OVER YOURSELF, YOU RICH FUCKING BITCH. YOU'RE THE FIRST ONE GOING DOWN WHEN I FUCKING FINALLY HAVE THE POWER TO STRANGLE THE RICH. LIKE, HE'S SUCH A BIG IMPACT ON PEOPLE, IN A GOOD WAY, BUT ALL HE DOES IS GO 'oh, boo-hoo, woe is me- woe is me-' LIKE-

SHUT UP.

SHUT UP.

YOU KNOW WHO SHOULD BE FUCKING SOBBING??? RUGGIE. RUGGIE DESERVED TO OVERBLOT. NOT YOU. THAT FUCKING BOY FUCKING PULLED MOST OF THE DAMN WEIGHT IN YOUR PLAN ALL BECAUSE HE THOUGHT YOU WERE IN THE RIGHT. YOU ABSOLUTE FUCK WAD. HE WANTED GOOD THINGS FOR HIS DORM AND YOU ABSOLUTELY WRECKED IT.

LILIA DESERVED TO SHIT ON YOU EVEN FUCKING HARDER. FUCKING PISS BABY. FUCK YOU. BASTARD. UGUGUGHDHGHGHGDJL

AND THEN- HE HAS THE FUCKING AUDACITY TO BE LIKE: "I'll do this again next year!" LIKE

BITCH

WHO IN THE HELL DO YOU THINK YOU ARE?? I'LL FUCKING BREAK EVERY BONE IN YOUR LEGS, I JUST- RRAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAGHGHGHSDLKJFLKSDJFKLSDJFLKSDJF:LSDFJ

Off of that note, I am very proud of him in the third chapter for having a teaspoon of character growth and actually feeling guilty for what he did to Ruggie. Very proud of him there. NOW IF HE'D JUST GET OFF OF THE PITY TRAIN THAT'S BE FUCKING *chef's kiss* IMMACULATE.

Also, sorry, I am in firm belief that he is one of the people that has a canonical crush on MC and no, you can't convince me otherwise. Him, Floyd and Riddle. Those three so far. Absolutely am convinced. You can also argue Jack, he's so soft with us, but, I digress.

SO, TO ANSWER YOUR QUESTION, DEAR:

I adore Ruggie and Leona, despite the fact he can go fuck himself- I do very much care for him and had a heart attack during the Camp event when he got kidnapped and I almost fucking cried. So, like, it's straight up an issue of me being the only person allowed to murder him, but I haven't decided when he dies- he's the Megatron to my Optimus Prime. You know, without all of the... tyrannical murder sjkdsflj;sd

Anyway, enjoy y'all's day- Leona stans, I do love you. But y'all got shit taste and I think I should say it (jk, but I will fight your husband istg)

[amwritingmeta]

15x20: New Beginnings

I’d like to speak of the cause and effect of the ending.

I agree that the execution could’ve been skewered just a tiny bit and it would’ve made the overall impression more palatable, but assuming production was at the very least hampered by COVID restrictions, we know that this wasn’t actually Dabb’s final vision. It’s what we’ve got, though, and it still leaves us with a lot of tying up of narrative threads. 

How?

We have a final image of Dean and Sam together and I understand why this is irksome and why it feels regressive. Here’s why I think it actually isn’t:

Dark Side of the Moon tells us that Dean and Sam are most definitely not soulmates meant to share a Heaven. Dean’s memories are focused on Sam while Sam’s memories are completely devoid of Dean. Dean also needs to find Sam (and is helped to do so by Cas). Ie. they brothers are not in a shared Heaven, the way Jimmy and Amelia and Mary and John are highlighted to be.

We also know that Heaven’s system is basically a prison for the mind of the souls of those who have died, right? You get stuck in your best memories. This is simply Heaven’s idea of benevolence, because Heaven, and the angels, have never understood how much choice and free will matter to humanity.

So. No matter how much Dean and Sam succeeded in saving the world throughout our narrative, they were still always headed for forced separation and this prison for their minds and being filed away behind one of those white doors, in essence ceasing to exist, and the point of all their trials and tribulations would have been what? Living a long and happy life, only to die and go to what Dean wouldn’t have chosen for himself with a gun to his head? Eternally brainwashed into thinking he’s content? 

Can you think of anything more horrible to be waiting at the end of their road?

So the point to this ending we got is, to me, gloriously clear and it’s this:

The journeys of these men, throughout this entire narrative, made the new Heaven possible. 

This new Heaven, where there’s freedom of choice and endless possibility for exploration. Where human souls are now granted an afterlife worth actually living, where everyone can reconnect with the people they’ve cared about, the people they’ve loved. 

(Buddhists have six Heavens and believe life exists on multiple planes meaning when you die you simply transcend to the next plane where there’s more living to be done) (Swedish children’s author Astrid Lindgren explored the death of two brothers through sacrifice and illness in her novel The Brothers Lionheart and in the mythology of this book the first Heaven one enters just after death is called Nangijala, and once you die in Nangijala you move onto Nangilima and so on) (etc.) 

What we get in the Supernatural mythos is that there’s no more prison for the mind. No more only soulmates get a shared Heaven: ie. family genuinely doesn’t end in blood.

So look at what this means for the entire structure of our narrative and our character journeys -->

The Road 

If Dean and Sam hadn’t been codependent, they wouldn’t have made those bad choices that brought Cas into the narrative. 

If Cas hadn’t been influenced by Dean to rebel and start making bad choices of his own, he never would’ve made Heaven fall apart by trying to stitch it together and teach angels free will and stepping into a leader role he wasn’t quite ready for, and he wouldn’t have begun on the journey that brought him right to the moment when he expressed his need of bringing back a win for Dean, and for himself.

That win, turns out, was Jack. 

Cas’ faith in Jack, Cas fighting for Jack, Cas feeling responsible and stepping into the Good Father Figure in order to keep his promise to Kelly and protect Jack was what led to Cas making a bad deal with the Empty, but that bad deal also left Cas with the opportunity to save Dean’s life when death was threatening to break down that door and kill them both.

The remarkable truth that’s added to this moment is that Cas’ journey has brought him to a place in his progression where he’s no longer afraid of his feelings, he’s no longer questioning them or thinking they mean a weakness he shouldn’t let define him, because he realises that what he needs isn’t Dean to love him back for that love to be real, to be valuable and valid. His fear of alienating Dean through loving him is the lie. That’s where his happiness stems from, him recognising and finally embracing this truth. 

Because the love he feels isn’t a weakness. It never was: it’s his strength. It’s always guided him, even when he didn’t realise it.

And the strength of it lets him tell Dean exactly how he sees him and that he loves him, and opening up to and being honest with himself is what allows Cas to integrate with his shadow. The Empty takes him, but Cas is at peace, because he no longer fears and avoids his unconscious, he no longer needs to engage in suppression and repression of his emotions, and so his shadow no longer holds any sway over him, which is a fact given to us by how Cas’ ending in this narrative means him being free of the Empty. 

A freedom that never would have been granted, never would have been possible, without his faith in, his fighting for and his protection of Jack.

Cas’ words to Dean makes Dean begin his final steps into integration as well, meaning Cas’ declaration of love directly affects the outcome of the fight against Chuck, because Dean wants Cas back, but it’s not everything he’s focused on, since it shouldn’t be everything he’s focused on. 

It can’t be, since there are bigger fish to fry, and because of Cas’ view of him, Dean is opening up to his true self, to trust, to having faith in himself, which allows for a letting go of the need for control and thinking it’s all on him and everything is his responsibility or everyone dies. 

Thanks to this, we get Dean in teamwork mode with Sam and Jack, the three of them together figuring out how to manipulate Michael into bringing Chuck to them in order for Jack to de-power him. 

Dean’s integration is complete, and given to us through the symbology of his inner child (Jack) sucking the power out of his shadow (Chuck) and is then underlined by the ego (Dean) telling his de-powered shadow that it’s to be forgotten. Dean’s shadow, which has fed on and also fuelled the need in Dean for repression and suppression, no longer holds any sway over him. 

And Dean’s understanding and embracing of his true identity is highlighted by how he refuses to kill Chuck. 

Because that’s not who Dean is: he’s not a killer. He’s internalised Cas’ view of him. Cas’ truth making way for Dean’s own truth to shine a light. 

Dean is done with self-denial. And self-destruction. 

Which is what 15x20 is all about: that lack of self-destruction and the finality of goodbye.

Because Dean being shown to accept the finality of the loss of Cas has such direct bearing on Dean’s ability to accept the finality of saying goodbye to his brother.

The Greatest Love Story Ever Told

All of this, all of it, is because of and thanks to Cas’ LOVE for Dean. 

Thanks to the moment that allowed Cas to express it and to SEE Dean for who he truly is. 

Thanks to the moment of Cas’ integration we get Dean integrating.

And it’s so beautiful that it’s the loss of Cas this time that allows for Dean to do this, because he’s always plummeted into despair without Cas. His progression has slowed to a crawl without Cas in the narrative. His entire sense of self, his entire source of faith in anything, being drained out of him. 

This has been romantic and lovely and fabulous, but it’s also so unhealthy. 

Dean being shown to mourn, to want Cas back, to expect Cas at the end of that phone call, only for him to move away from the need and want to have Cas back, recognising that it’s possible Cas’ return is now an improbability and choosing to look to the future, because now he’s feeling worthy of a future, this is such an important detail for the love story to move from profound bond territory...

(where Cas used the bond forged by Heaven as an excuse for why he kept hanging around Dean) (Dean was his charge, his mission, he was meant to protect him) (a view shattered by Hester in S8) (and properly dismantled by the human!Cas arc) (at least the way I see it because that’s where Cas got that love he feels brought into actual stark relay like oh fuck I’m in love with him)

...to the healthy, selfless, loving side to that bond, which isn’t about self-deception, miscommunication and fear, but about blowing all of that apart, letting feelings flow freely, opening up to the truth of them, the strength of them, and these two men being able to finally free themselves of all those past doubts by embracing their true identities.

I realise there’s frustration that we only got part-textual Destiel. I felt it too. But I never expected canon Destiel. I hoped and wished, but up until Cas’ declaration of love, I questioned whether the studio would be onboard, and it turns out they weren’t okay with making SPN an overtly queer narrative. Was Cas’ declaration of love baiting or BYG? I hope my meta reading in this post will tell you how little I feel it was.

So then. Letting go of the initial shock of it all, I’m leaning on what I did expect: the love story so strongly highlighted in the subtext that we were all left with zero doubt that we’d been seeing it there for a reason.

Subtext is part of the text. For any writer worth their salt, subtext is more important than the surface text. Text without subtext is flat and dull. The text we’ve been dealing with for fifteen years has always had layers upon layers.

These final three episodes, as I’ve already pulled on above, brings it in spades and our subtext tells us plainly:

Dean Winchester is in love with Castiel, just as much as Castiel is in love with him. 

How does it tell us this plainly?

Cas is finally able to integrate because he opens up to the truth he’s carried with him for so long: his love for Dean. Unconditional. He no longer needs Dean to say it back, to validate the emotion, Cas is realising that happiness in the feeling itself, in acknowledging it and allowing it free rein. Cas moves into making peace with himself, for himself.

Now, we know Cas loves Dean because, well, declared, but why is it plain that Dean loves Cas back?

Firstly, because of the episode being entirely structured around people in love losing one half. That’s as much of an in-our-faces use of mirroring as underlining of the subtextual love story that we’ve ever gotten from Berens. 

Even stronger than the mirroring, for me, is the fact that Cas’ love for Dean allows Dean to finally move into integration. 

Cas’ words infuse Dean with a sense of self-worth that immediately paves way for him beginning to have all that faith in himself that Cas has always represented to him. The build from 15x18 through to 15x20 is like a gentle moving away from Cas being the external source of Dean’s faith, to Cas’ love and expressed faith revealing Dean’s internal source of faith in himself.

A source which has been suppressed and repressed out of a whole layer of different fears, which have in turn brought on the belief that a toxic masculinity armour was necessary for survival and that all feelings are weaknesses, but because of Cas’ faith in him, because of Cas’ expressed love, Dean is able to no longer need an external source of faith, because he’s now internalised and embraced the truth of what makes him who he is.

Just like Cas is shown to do, we’re given Dean recognising that the love he feels isn’t a weakness, but a strength, because Cas’ words is about Dean’s capacity for LOVE. It’s this love that takes away Chuck’s ability to tell Dean who he is. 

No one can tell you who you are -- you choose who to be. 

For his entire life, right up until that moment in that room with Cas, facing death (literally) all Dean can see himself as is someone who can do nothing and who knows nothing except how to give into his anger (he’s never been able to control it because he’s never recognised the source of it) and find something to kill.

This view of himself has been constantly whispered to him and reinforced by his unconscious, his Shadow-side, who’s kept Dean thinking that he doesn’t have good things last for him, ever, so he can’t have love in his life or a future to look forward to, because he doesn’t deserve it. A perpetual emotional roundabout where his Shadow-side has stayed in complete control.

One might argue this has always been the source of Dean’s anger: his inability to dare open up to his true identity that has kept the toxic masculinity armour in place, kept the performance up, kept him more often than not lying even to himself of who he is and who he wants to be, because he never felt there was a choice in the matter. 

Truly allowing himself to recognise and feel all that longing for love that’s been like a tight ball in his chest always, meant giving into weakness meant getting Sammy killed or himself or both of them meant failure.

But the only way to beat back and conquer our Shadow-side is by recognising and accepting our flaws and no longer feeling unworthy because of them.

That’s what Cas’ words and his love does for Dean. 

That’s right there in the subtext: Dean, even in the moments before certain death, being unable to open up to the truth of who he is and what really drives him; Dean needing his external source of faith, this man that he’s loved for a long time, to tell him that how he sees himself is wrong, to afford him a different view of himself, to bring the truth to light so that Dean can finally feel worthy it, because Dean couldn’t beat his Shadow back on his own, his dark view of himself was much too ingrained for that.

It had to be Cas. The narrative tells us it always had to be Cas. And so it is Cas who saves Dean from himself. And saves Dean’s life. And saves Dean from having to spend his afterlife in a prison of the mind.

Love wins.

And Cas only ever entered the narrative due to Dean’s need to Protect Sammy at all costs, because that has always been such a huge identity marker for Dean, his entire self-understanding and sense of self tied to whether he can keep his brother alive and out of harms way, which, as he grows up, then translates itself into Dean’s enormous capacity for selflessness and caring about others. 

His core trait was never weapon, it was shield. It was protector. Stemming directly from all that love he carries around and can’t allow himself to feel because it means weakness and that means death and that means he’s failed and is worthless and around it has always gone.

And would always have gone, too. If not for Cas.

Love fucking WINS.

I mean. DAMN! It’s so gorgeous.

(this angle still holds even if Dean in any way was ever meant to actually reciprocate in that scene, because it’s made so clear to us how Cas never expects Dean to say it back) (if Dean is meant to say it back and the love story is meant to be textual that would be mind-blowing head-exploding joyful news) (but it doesn’t change the subtextual move away from unhealthy holding on to healthy letting go) (the textual would only ever strengthen the fact that we have subtextual confirmation) 

But what about...?

Yeah, but what about that ending then? What about the last twenty minutes? What about all the focus on the brothers? 

Was the execution of the finale perfect? No, I wouldn’t say it was, but I could see, when I watched the finale again on the 21st, that there was efforts made to make something good enough. Something geared toward tying our narrative up as best as possible with the means presented to Dabb. 

I understand why people feel stuff is missing.

Because stuff is missing. Dabb told us they had to change the ending, that they were supposed to have a whole lot of people back to populate Dean’s Heaven. Found family galore. Misha said the same thing. They couldn’t (I’m not going to speculate on why, it’s just clear that they couldn’t) and so the ending had to be modified. To me that’s fairly plain in how it’s structured.

Did they have to focus so hard on the brothers?

Well... given the restrictions, I think this was the only way to end this narrative, because the story has always been centred on these two brothers and the bad choices and sacrifices they’ve made, and the blood, sweat and tears they’ve shed in order to remain together.

Their absolute inability to let the other go actually kick-started their onscreen journey.

Because this is a story about dependency, and letting go of that dependency to make way for a healthy, equal coexisting; which is what, to me, that final shot is all about.

Should Cas and Jack have been there? Sure! There will always be stuff missing from the final two eps that I’ll wonder about. Like, if Cas was never meant to be in the story (as per Misha he was but let’s say for argument’s sake) then why didn’t Dean just ask, very calmly, in 15x19 of Jack our New God: “What about Cas?” and then Jack our New God could’ve answered gently, but plainly: “He’s at peace.” Simple. Why didn’t we get an establishing of Eileen as Sam’s wife? And it would’ve helped so much to have Charlie and Stevie reestablished in the visual narrative as alive, however plain it is to me that Jack will have brought them back with everyone else who were away-ed by Chuck.

Sure, there could’ve been more.

But what I love about that final shot of the brothers is this canonical fact:

It would not have been possible without Cas. 

Cas learning and growing and integrating to the point that he knows exactly how to fix the home he’s broken more than once, and how to bring free will, at long last, to Heaven, to the benefit of humanity.

And Dean’s little sideways smile (his “I want this smile”) when Cas is mentioned, when he realises that Heaven is different thanks to Cas, well, isn’t that just the darnedest thing? 

*forever headcanon that Dean was expecting to see Cas again somewhere somehow he just didn’t know when and now... here Cas is* 

When Cas went, it took a little time to adjust, but Dean let go of Cas and didn’t make a deal and didn’t go crazy or self-destructive, there was no nosediving into depression, because Cas’ words made those types of coping mechanisms no longer necessary. 

Dean drinks and indulges at the start of 15x19 because he’s still processing, but by 15x20 Cas’ words have been fully internalised, Dean has integrated, and he’s looking to the future. Set on living, because otherwise he’d render Cas’ sacrifice meaningless.

Dean’s death has zero blaze and glory to it. He didn’t expect this day to be the day. But it is. And he accepts it. And because he does, because he’s open and honest with his brother, because he tells Sam all the words he needs Sam to carry with him, gives Sam all the faith in himself that Cas left Dean with, he’s brought to a Heaven that has been readied for him by the love of his life. 

Cas is right there. And he’s been waiting. And he’s used his time well, because Heaven is now the afterlife that Dean deserves. The ultimate salvation. Love and happiness and companionship and LOVE LOVE LOVE. Forever.

If that isn’t the biggest reward for the both of them after everything they’ve been through, I don’t even know what is!

Sam arriving is a given, but I have to say I genuinely do not see Sam as living his life in pain and grief. He’s happy. He loves his kid. He’s a good father. Just like Dean was, and Bobby, and Cas. All the Good Father figures threaded through 15x20. And this narrative has been about these two brothers. It ending on them together, at peace, feels fitting. 

Yeah, but shouldn’t Dean have gotten to live his life?

Sure, this is my interpretation 100%, but Dean’s death feels softly ironic and fitting because it is unexpected. 

I can’t hit on this enough: there’s no blaze and glory.

Dean was ready to make the most of life, but through accepting death and accepting separation from Sam, Dean is brought into the same moment Cas was brought into, a moment of recognising what’s important, where Dean opens up fully to vulnerability and hands over his trust and faith in that Sam will be fine without him, which pushes Sam into the same integration that Cas’ words afforded Dean. Voicing trust and faith will do that for a person.

And Sam’s arc was always dependent, narratively, on the progression of Dean’s arc, so it makes a lot of narrative sense that this needed to happen for Sam to get pushed out of the nest and forced into having proper faith in himself. Because there’s no other choice. 

He’s left doing what he has to and it results in a balance between that family life he’s always wanted (foreshadowed in 15x01) and staying aware of and raising his son to be aware of the reality of their world, given to us via the tattoo on Dean Jr.’s wrist. (oofta I wish he’d had a different name but since everything had to be done in the visual narrative it’s the easiest way to connect us with Dean still being present in Sam’s life so I get it)

There’s also that romantic in me that feels as though Dean is greatly rewarded for all his suffering and struggles, for all those years of living his life in fear and feeling as though he doesn’t matter by not only bringing him into a Heaven he made possible, but by reuniting him with the love of his life and this time they’re equally immortal, equally made of light, equally eternal, equally integrated and balanced and ready to accept all that love and happiness.

That just makes me fucking happy. For them both.

Bring on the New Beginnings

The fact that the narrative has opened itself up to being interpreted as somehow glorifying death or saying that happiness can only be found in death is distressing, but I hope that the threads I’ve pulled on here gives enough of a basis for me to say how I truly feel like this is simplifying why the choice was made for Dean to die.

It’s not about happiness only being found in death. 

It’s not about devaluing living your life, it’s about the idea, the soft hope, even the narrative promise that death, for our characters, not for humanity as a whole, but for these specific men, who have always avoided it and made bad deals and feared separation and been brought into a crisis of identity (Dean because he doesn’t know who he is without Protect Sammy as purpose and Sam because he genuinely and continuously seem convinced that he can’t hunt without Dean to lead the way) whenever death has touched them have now reached a point where the separation is an accepted part of life.

And this acceptance is rewarded: because the separation isn’t forever.

Death is not the end. It makes way for new beginnings. For all three of TFW. Actually all four, because of course Jack is included in this endgame.

There’s a transformation that takes place, thanks to them integrating. They get to transcend what’s come before and move onto the next plane of existence together. 

Together.

TFW 3.0!

Death on this show has always been about a moment of rebirth, of entering a different leg of their journeys.  

I don’t find it out of place at all that the ultimate moment of death for our characters mean just that. 

Not an ending, but a new beginning.

In conclusion

Could there have been more? As said, yes. Absolutely yes. But I doubt Dabb isn’t aware of that. I don’t think this is the ending he originally intended. It might have been a brothers focused ending, because I think Dean was always meant to die and go to Heaven, but Dean’s Heaven was meant to be a celebration of found family. 

The subtext of this narrative is what I’ve been reading and what I’ve been hooked on for four years, and what I’ll continue to be hooked on for the rest of my life, I’m fairly sure. I wish it could be celebrated, the way it always has been, the way we’ve always known to look deeper.

I hoped Supernatural would turn out to be a vehicle for overt representation. I always hoped that, and believe that was what the writers wanted. The fact that we didn’t get overt bisexual Dean and Destiel as unquestionable canon was distressing to me too and I’ll always think of this ending as a missed opportunity and I wish the CW would learn and fucking do better already. 

I understand the frustration, I understand the anger, I just wish we could all look at the richness of this ending and everything it says about the narrative, about our subtext, about our love story, about our character journeys, and lean into the treasury of it.

And omfg we got Cas as canonically queer. 

We got a main character on our show that is overt representation, on a journey towards a moment where he gets to express love and hope and clarity and this in turn moving through and enabling the integration of Dean and ultimately of Sam as well.

Truth begetting truth. Happiness begetting happiness. And love saving the day.

So, my friends, I will say this: saying that all the writing is bad, or claiming that there’s no depth, nothing to pull on, that it all just plain sucked, that doesn’t quite cut it. These three final episodes, just as any episode ever of this goddamn show, contain all of those layers and layers, especially when looked at together and certainly when taken into the context of the show as a whole.

And yes, you are, of course, more than welcome to your own interpretation! 

To finish I’ll quote Bruce Almighty: 

Lovelovelovelovelovelovelove!! 

[shera-dnd]

Love for a Dark Heart

Adding now to the list of things I can’t fucking believe I got paid to write: My FFXIV character falling in love with herself.

Honestly I could have kept writing this for another 5k words more, but I set the rules so I’m gonna stick to them

As usual you can follow this link right here to read it on AO3 if you’d prefer that. If you’d like to have a fic written by me you should feel free to donate to my ko-fi (rules for donations over here) and let’s get going with the fic

You are a rational woman.

You try to deal with the facts and not let emotion rule over your decisions. That doesn’t mean you’re cold hearted or any such thing, but when it comes to wielding aether you really cannot let your emotions get in the way, lest your magic escape your control entirely.

It’s why you joined the Arcanists Guild so long ago, their approach to spell craft was exactly what you needed, and after many long months of training you had even mastered the lost art of summoning. It had been your calculated and well crafted spells that had felled the Primals and even bested Gaius and his Ultima Weapon.

But what did that amount to?

You’ve been betrayed, the Sultana is dead, your friends are lost, and the nations you fought to defend probably have a price on your head by now. All your possessions now fit neatly into the tiny backpack you brought along in your journey to Ishgard, and the only people left to console you are Alphinaud and Tataru, but in all honesty you’re usually the one consoling them now.

But Ishgard still welcomes you and still needs you. House Fortemps has embraced you and the least you can do is fight to protect them as well. Just keep fighting and saving people until everything gets solved, it definitely worked just fine the first time you tried that, so why not try it again?

You don’t want to be bitter, you don’t want to be angry, you genuinely feel sorry whenever you snap at Alphinaud or Haurchefant, you know they’re having a hard time too. Still it is so hard not to just let that frustration fester in your heart.

One day you’re walking the streets of Ishgard, trying to work the anger out of your system, when you hear a man muttering something. It was a story about a man who fought like a beast, who wielded the Darkness like other men would wield a blade. Something about this story sparks your curiosity and next thing you know you’re pressing the man for details.

It seemed your mystery man had died in battle with the holy knights of Ishgard and his corpse had been dumped in the Brume. It was unfortunate, but mayhaps you could still find his corpse, maybe even his soulstone.

You weren’t thinking of wielding the darkness, were you? No, it was simply academic curiosity. You just couldn’t leave such a thing unstudied, right? Of course. Now to make your way to the Brume.

No pulse, no breathing, skin as cold as the snow around you, that man was a corpse. At least he was a corpse with a soulstone, maybe you could study that. You just have to take it and-

A voice calls for you in the dark.

You wake up confused, but still intact. Better yet, the man you thought dead was now alive and well in front of you. His name is Fray and he was a Dark Knight. Apparently so were you now.

Perhaps embracing the dark should have been difficult, it should have been the kind of decision you pondered over and considered all the pros and cons. It wasn’t supposed to be something you did on a whim, but in reality it was the easiest thing you’ve ever done.

You were stronger now. How else could you wield a weapon so massive? How else could those knights strike you with their blades and barely make you flinch? How else could you take all that anger, and frustration that you had repressed for so long, and give it such a beautiful shape as it cut down those hallowed bastards? 

It felt good.

It felt too good.

Perhaps the life of a Dark Knight was exactly what you needed.

In the weeks that passed no one questioned why you disappeared every night or where you went. You had gone through a lot, and they just wanted to give you space to heal. Besides, who would question what the Warrior of Light did with her spare time? It almost made you feel bad for what you were doing.

Almost.

It was hard feeling bad now that you have started studying the Darkness. No, studying would imply a lot more research and controlled tests. What you were doing was more like exercising it, working out a muscle you didn’t know you had until now. If that meant killing your fair share of monsters then so be it.

Especially when working that metaphorical muscle also seemed to improve your physical ones. Even your eye sight seemed to have improved somehow. With time your tunic had been replaced by plate armor, your glasses by a full helmet, your book of spells by the biggest sword you could carry.

There were still hiccups when adapting to this new life as a Dark Knight. No matter how many times you attuned yourself to the Darkness you could only ever hear whispers of that voice in the dark that had once called your name. It worried you, and frustrated Fray to no end.

Frustration seemed to be Fray’s default state. Always furious at the people around you who insist on asking you to fix all their problems, ready to throw threats and insults any time someone so much as  thought of interrupting you. You try to be nice, you try to de-escalate, to help those people anyway, but you know deep down that you agree with her.

Her? Wasn’t Fray a man?

Doesn’t matter, Fray can use whatever pronouns she wants. You just can’t remember her ever telling you she changed those. 

Wait did she just mention fighting Leviathan? Had she been there with you on that ship? Surely you’d remember that.

Why hadn’t she mentioned that before?

Maybe if you still saw the world through your old scholarly lens, maybe if you still distanced yourself, studied the situation, maybe then you would have realized what was happening. You really can’t help but feel a little stupid when the truth finally reveals itself.

When Fray takes off her helmet it is your face that you see, your eyes that stare into yours, your voice that challenges you. She was your Darkness, your repressed rage against those who used you again, and again to suit their needs; your frustrations with this world that would exhaust you to the bone before finding any solution that didn’t involve you, your need for someone to just step up and care for you even once.

If only she hadn’t hurt those people, if only her first answer wasn’t to just draw her sword on those she saw as a threat to you, maybe then you’d let her go.

Your swords clash and ultimately she’s the one to fall. Your Darkness, your heart, your…

...Esteem, lies defeated before you and you don’t know how to feel. She was a monster formed from the deepest abyss, yet when you hear her declare that she will always be there for you, if only you were to call her, you can’t help but feel hope.

It was only after you exposed yourself to just about every guard, and soldier at Dragon Head that you decided that it’s about time you came clean to your friends.

Alphinaud and Haurchefant didn’t understand why you had made the decisions you had, but they couldn’t think of anyone better to wield such a power. Tataru trusted you with her life and just a bit of Darkness wouldn’t get in the way of that. Estinien claimed that he understood, that he too struggled against the evil that granted him his powers. In the end it all felt too easy, too unearned.

Still, there was a nation to save and a war to stop. Your little existential crisis would have to wait. You could almost hear Esteem screaming at you for ever forming that thought. 

Soon it wouldn’t be just almost.

Weeks passed as you traversed Dravania, searching for a way to stop this war. For a moment you had hoped that by exposing the lies of Ishgardian nobility you would finally put an end to this, but of course that just led the holy men of Halone to do what they thought was right, which just happened to be capturing and torturing an innocent man.

You went in to try to save a man, to make those self appointed saints pay. You didn’t go there to lose a friend, yet that’s what you did.

You kept your composure long enough to reach your private chambers in the Fortemps manor, but as soon as the door closed behind you, you collapsed. You could have saved him, you could have prevented this, you could have jumped out of the way, or pushed him away, or just done anything.

But you didn’t, and now he paid the price for it.

What a pathetic excuse for a Warrior of Light you are.

“You’re no such thing!” A familiar voice calls. You don’t know when or how you summoned her back, but there she was.

Esteem lifted you from the ground and laid you in your bed. You noticed now that instead of the black armor she had favored in your fight, now she wore one of your old robes and your old glasses. It was almost funny thinking of a being of pure aether deigning to wear glasses for some reason.

With a gentleness you didn’t know either of you had, she caressed and soothed you as she repeated those same words over and over again, “it wasn’t your fault.”

It felt pathetic to only have a shadow of yourself to care for you, but for now it didn’t matter. All you could do in that moment was cling, cling to the kind words and the soft touch of the only person who cared enough to offer, and try as hard as you can to believe in what she’s saying.

“Rest now, you fool,” she asked, her voice just as gentle as before.

“Please stay,” you pleaded, unsure if she would disappear the moment you closed your eyes.

It was a selfish thing to ask, to force her to stay in the material world simply for your own comfort, but Esteem wanted nothing more than for you to be selfish, so there was never any doubt that she would oblige.

The next morning she was still there, asleep somehow, still holding you in her arms. It shamed you to admit that this was the closest you’ve ever been to another person. No one had held you this close, no one had ever let you fall asleep in their arms - or fallen asleep in yours for what that matters - had she been more than just a piece of your own heart, perhaps you would have found reason for embarrassment.

There was certainly some strangeness to it, of course. Waking up in your own arms and seeing your own face in the morning was as surreal an experience as you could imagine right now. Though it did allow you some interesting introspection. You shifted in bed a little, trying to get a good look at your own face, wondering if you had ever looked this peaceful before.

“If you even consider rising from this bed I promise you the Archbishop will be the least of your worries,” she grumbles without even opening her eyes.

“I did not know you could sleep,” you comment.

“Neither did I,” she replies. She pushes herself into a sitting position, having completely given up on the idea of returning to your shared slumber, “if I must be honest, I don’t even know how I was granted physical form once more.”

“Yet your first response to sudden corporealization was not to question it, but to attend to the sobbing mess on the floor,” you are by no means attempting to mock her, it simply sounds odd to you.

“What am I to say?” She jested, “I’m quite fond of that sobbing mess.”

At that you averted your gaze. It felt embarrassing somehow, to have someone declare their fondness so bluntly, even if that someone wasn’t an actual person.

“Have we truly grown so alienated from affection?” She sighs, her voice a mix of worry and disappointment.

You motion to protest, but a knock on the door interrupts you both. With a gesture, she requests you stay in bed while she handles this. That may be the worst idea you have ever heard, but you’re far too tired to protest.

“I’m glad to see you’re awake and well,” Alphinaud greets her cheerfully, “If you’re disposed, I’d like to ask-”

“I’m not,” She interrupts, “now, you may be on your way.”

The poor boy is too stunned to reply, and does nothing to stop her from slamming the door on his face. A smug smirk forms on her face as she strides back to you.

“Must you be so rude to all my friends?” You say as you glare at her.

“Must you put the needs of every last soul above your own well being?” She shot back, matching your stare.

You’re the one to break the stare first, “I’ll try not to.”

She nods and gives you a satisfied smile as she sits next to you, “now do try to rest. Wouldn’t want me to be rude to poor Alphinaud for naught.”

In the weeks that followed she had been ever by your side. Like your old summons she could effortlessly appear and disappear from thin air, combined with her nature as a being of pure aether it made you suspect you had somehow called upon an egi of Esteem’s former self. This was promptly disproven by the fact that her response to any direct commands was a simple and direct, “sod off!”

By all accounts she should simply be darkness aspected aether, given shape and purpose by your needs and desires, as unreal as Ysayle’s false Shiva. Yet here she was, talking when she wanted to, sleeping when she wanted to, eating when she wanted to--seven hells she even has different tastes than you. There was no other way around it, Esteem had become her own person somehow.

Part of you worried that you had somehow created a Primal of your own heart. That had now been buried under the far more substantial worry that you have been utterly mistreating an actual person with thoughts and feelings, who had done nothing but help you and care for you for weeks. This in turn had been buried under the mess of feelings that struck your heart at the fact that this woman had held you in your sleep for weeks now. Mayhaps you should just focus on hitting things with big swords for now.

On that angle things have been a lot simpler. Your preparations for the journey to Azys Lla were now almost concluded, and as you waited for Master Cid to finish his work you took your time to aid a fellow Dark Knight by the name of Sidurgu.

That man quite proudly embodied the mass of hate and anger you expected from a Dark Knight, a trait that seemed to invoke Esteem’s disdain and earn him quite a share of her unkindly remarks. Neither his emotional state nor her opinion of him were ever aided by the fact that you surpassed him with ease.

You may have stumbled onto this power like a blind fool, but it had somehow suited you with a natural ease that eluded your companion. It was in the pursuit of more power - under the guise of aiding a young girl that Sidurgu had taken under his wing - that you found yourself once more doing menial tasks for moogles. At least today you’d have the catharsis of beating them within an ilm of their lives for it.

What you did not expect was for them to burst into song and dance afterwards.

“‘Tis love! ‘Tis love!” They profess with their tiny voices, “all-powerful, shining love!”

Suffice to say that the both of you were completely befuddled by the performance - Esteem loudly laughing in the corner she carved for herself in your mind - had Rielle, your shared charge, not appeared in that moment you were sure you’d both sit like that for an hour.

It was only as you made your way back to Ishgard that Sidurgu took you aside to talk about what had unfolded. He mocked the idea that love could be the true power of Darkness, but you could see that sharp edge on his voice begin to dull ever so slightly.

A year ago you would have been just as dismissive of such an idea, to properly channel aether you require coldly calculated theorems, not something as nebulous as love. 

Yet here you are. You’ve wielded anger and frustration like weapons for months now, why can’t you wear love like an armor?

You loved your friends and that gave you strength.

You loved Eorzea and that gave you strength.

You loved yourself and that…

...Well, did you really love yourself that much? Not as much as you should if Esteem were to be believed, but she does. She loves you, and that gives you strength.

It’s with this context that you begin to notice the little things she does, even when she’s not around. The gentle touches, the kind words, the worry in her eyes after a rough fight. It had been her love that helped you strike down with your blade, it had been her love that held you up when an enemy would fell you. It made you oh so keenly aware of her heartbeat - surprisingly human and comforting - next to yours as she held you both together.

Had you loved her too this whole time?

Perhaps you should have questioned this before the worries of facing Garleans, Ascians, and the Archbishop, loomed this close in the horizon. Perhaps you should have questioned that Esteem’s love didn’t come just from some magically ordained purpose. Perhaps you should have questioned what it meant about you that you so willingly accepted and reciprocated that love.

By the time you arrive at the Fortemps manor that night, you have already made your decision and you find her in your room, reading a spicy romance novel from Emmanellain’s secret stash. Steeling yourself in a way you hadn’t done since facing Ultima, you approach her and bring your lips to hers. It was a fleeting touch, but it had the whole of you buzzing with nervous energy.

With the most detestably smug smile, she brings you close again so she may kiss you back and, as if she hadn’t just shaken your very soul with that act, returned to her reading.

You stare at her, utterly confounded by her lack of any real reaction. It takes her a moment to realize you are still staring and the words that escaped her mouth would infuriate and haunt you for the rest of your existence.

“Was I wrong to assume we’d been lovers for at least a month now?”

Perhaps you really should have just stuck to hitting people with big swords.

[mrpenguinpants]

Oh! Sorry for the late reply, but it’s not canon lore, haha. Part of me hopes it kinda was just to give Keqing a bit more introspection but alas, Mihoyo has tens of different characters to make so it’s understandable. I thought of it as a modern au type of thing where Keqing ends up moving in a apartment complex only to be greeted with men she has to babysit as the price JHDJSHDJSJ– It’s a fun little idea, and at first, she hates them all but eventually, walking outside of her place for a free meal becomes an escape of sorts. Ningguang, her dreaded co-worker, makes sure she doesn’t hear the end of it and is like “Please, you’re almost 27 nowz. Get yourself a man already, you have quite the options.”

Also, congrats on getting Xiao! I haven’t gotten him yet but at the end of his banner, I think I can make around 20 rolls so here’s hoping he’ll come with those!

No worries at all, I take FOREVER to reply to anyone. Plus this week was midterms so I’m still recovering from that if you’re wondering why I’ve been so silent. Ahh I see, I still need to read Keqing’s lore but until then 👀 I am fully invested in this. We’ll make a 180k word slow burn fic together. Honestly, I really want to write some Chongyun, Xingqiu, Xinyan, and Xiao interactions. My brainworm mind wants Xingqiu to be the biggest little shit and tells Chongyun that there’s a demon that needs to be exorcised at Wangshu inn. Turns out it’s Xiao but Chongyun being the trusting friend that he is, doesn’t believe Xingqiu would lie to me and fully believes Xiao is a demon. Xiao doesn’t know how to socialize and he doesn’t know how to handle interactions so it’s this entire goose chase. Xinyan comes along because she’s always wanted to see a demon. I can imagine her yelling “DEMON! COME OUT YOU COWARD!” while Xiao is gripping onto the roof beam above them for dear life so he doesn’t get found out. 

Ahh, I get that mihoyo wants to bust out new content but it also makes me sad that it will probably be awhile before we get Part 2 to anything. But oh well, I guess we can always make stuff up for part 2′s before Mihoyo proceeds to shred them apart haha. I love modern au, where everything is fine and happy and no one dies. Especially now since we’re all in self-isolation. It’s not much but being able to write is actually kinda therapeutic. Speaking of which, it’s valentines day today. I almost forgot because well, I’m asexual so no relationships for me, so I kinda forgot feb 14 had any importance haha. But hopefully you all that have partners stay safe if you plan on spending today together and for us single folk, hang out with friends^^ I’m having a movie/game night with everyone and I’m pretty excited. 

---

But getting back on track. I love roommate schneegans. When I first read this with my sleep deprived brain, I thought you meant that she had to live with the same people she had to babysit when they were children. That’d be so awkward but funny haha. I can imagine Childe being such a wholesome kid like Teucer that when Keqing meets him again when he’s an adult she’s so sad. You were such a cute kid, where did things go wrong? This also applies to Diluc (RIP DILUC MAN) and Kaeya. 

Diluc is so socially constipated that he acts rude af because he doesn’t know how to socialize. Reminds me of the type of guy that is thinking of cute puppies but as the scariest resting bitch face. The amount of emotional range he has makes Keqing wonder if he’s secretly planning on burning the apartment complex down to the ground or if he’s slept in the past week. He hasn’t. Man is crumbling so he’s gonna make the world crumble down with him in his woe is me bullshit (jk I love you Diluc). Keqing makes the customary “Hi, nice to meet you. I’m your new neighbor” but Diluc is actually running on fumes (he’s filter feeding at his point) that he looks so scary that Keqing almost runs away. Then the next day she sees him exit his home and he cleaned up so well that Keqing doesn’t recognize him. Assumed that Diluc lived with a brother that was in dire help. So she always offers him weird pick me up items and Diluc doesn’t know how to handle gifts so he just accepts them. He doesn’t know what the fuck she’s talking about since he lives alone but he assumes she’s some random cat lady. 

Kaeya is such an ass. Like actually awful. Was the kind of guy to pull the fire alarm just to get out of class for the day. Probably does it in the apartment just to mess with Diluc, which inheritably messes with Keqing very fragile beauty sleep, but he always manages to escape with a slap on the wrist. Keqing has lost so much faith in the justice system after that. He seemed like such a nice guy, well in comparison to her first meetings with Diluc, until he found out she had a fear of frogs and proceeded to mail her a package of them. She’s been haunted by nightmares of waking up to one on her face and she’s wondering if she can get away with setting his home on fire and getting away the same way he does from pulling the fire alarm. It seems like poetic irony but as soon as she thinks this Kaeya is messaging her “don’t do it”. She doesn’t know how he got her phone number and she’s not going to find out. 

Zhongli was the guy she went to highschool with where she had the fattest crush on. He still looks the exact same just taller and she can feel her inner agony seeping up when she spots him. Then proceeds to internally wail when they both enter the elevator and they live on the same floor. She’s internally begging and pleading that Zhongli doesn’t recognize her, but of fucking course he does and he remembers every little detail. The most deadpan face as he asks her if she still has the zhongli pin that some crazy club made for the student council they were both apart of. What pisses her off the most is that he’s actually genuinely curious and isn’t trying to make a stab at her. She hates him with every fiber of her being. 

Childe seemed like such a cute kid (I fully believe he’s younger than Keqing, you cannot take this away from my cold dead heads) and he mentioned how he was moving away from his family but he misses his cute little sisters and brothers. Keqing felt so much wholesome love in her body until Childe mistaken her as being younger than him and messed up her hair. She almost screamed bloody murder but made the quick correction that she was in fact, much older than him. Which was the wrong fucking move because he became the biggest little shit. Kept calling her old with weak bones, “when are you going to fossilize?” that she’s sure if there wasn’t a law against second degree murder, she would do it right then and there. 

---

I totally went off on a tangent right there haha. But yeah, I can imagine them all going to each other places for free meals and it’s actually some wholesome stuff. Kaeya and Diluc relive their childhood brother antics, Childe comes from a big family so he doesn’t get sad when he eats alone, Keqing gets to take a break and turn her brain off from work, and Zhongli is just happy to spend time with others after being in self-isolation and losing his wife (Jesus, reading this back I am so sorry Guizhong and Zhongli. This got so depressing holy shit). 

“Please, you’re almost 27 nowz. Get yourself a man already, you have quite the options.” LOL I LOVE THAT SENTENCE HAHA. But ty^^ I’m so glad he came home with diluc. I BELIEVE IN YOU!! YOU’RE GONNA GET HIM. BRING YOUR MAN HOME!! I kinda wanna write some roommate hcs in my brainworm style. I’m going to go write that. Hang on. I’ll be back. 

---

Happy Valentine’s Day everyone! Love from me 💕💕💕 

[divineluce]

Research Reunion || Orion & Luce

Timing: May 11th, 2021

Tagging: @3starsquinn & @divineluce

Location: The Scribrary

Description: Who else would know phoenixes better than a Scribe? Luce goes to Rio for help-- third time’s the charm. Right?

Grabbing her backpack from the passenger seat of her car, Luce glanced up at the Scribary. She remembered the last time she’d been here, vividly, in fact. She’d been asking Rio for help that day too. Help for… Swallowing, she slid the backpack over her shoulder, keenly aware of the books inside. They were the one she’d borrowed from Rio, months and months ago. Books about ghosts, about exorcisms. She’d poured over every single page, trying to figure out how she could do something. And in the end, she hadn’t even been able to help. She’d failed. Nadia was safe, but no thanks to her. It was like how Remmy was safe, how Bea was safe-- by virtue of being nowhere near this town, they were safe. Luce made her way to the door of Scribe HQ and knocked on the door. “Hey. I need your help.” She said, not looking at Rio. The last time they’d seen each other… She didn’t want to think about that. Instead, she awkwardly held up her backpack, “I’ve also got some overdue books.”

Orion hadn’t expected to hear from Luce. The two hadn’t seen each other since everything with Lydia. And the last that he had heard from her was the alcoholic apology for punching him. Rio just hadn’t been sure which time specifically she had been apologizing for. Maybe it was meant as a catch all. Broken cheek bone aside, getting punched was nowhere near the reason that Rio expected the two hadn’t seen each other since the incident. The whole situation with Lydia… it still weighed on Rio. People had died. Instead of getting to help, Rio had been promise bound into hurting his sister and friends all in an attempt to help a serial killer escape. He still hadn’t forgiven himself for being so naive. At the end of the day, Rio and Luce had never been particularly close. She was more like the sister of the best friend of the person Rio had been dating. Familiar with each other by extension, acquaintances by association. “Hi there.” Rio held the door open, scratching the back of his neck as a nervous tick while conveniently covering half of his face with his arm. Just the memory of Luce made his face throb. “I really hope we can do introductions without the uh- punching thing this time.” Rio smiled innocently, though the joke sounded more like a genuine plea than anything a normal person would laugh at. But if there was anything that could get Rio out of that funk it was the mention of his books. “Really?! That’s amazing. That means I can take you off my list. Come on, follow me we can head back to the library.” Rio waved her inside and started off down the winding hallways, “So uh- it’s been a while. How ya been?”

Grimacing at the memories of how she’d… greeted him in the past, Luce offered a tight lipped smile. “Nope. No punching this time.” She said. Christ. He was just a fucking kid. And she’d fucking clocked him. Twice. She needed to work on that. She needed to work on a lot of things, but decking kids was definitely on the list. Slipping the bag off her shoulder, Luce pulled out two of the thick leather bound books and tossed them to Rio. “Yep, right here. Ghosts and Ghouls and Diaries of an Exorcist. Real light reading.” She said before squinting in slight confusion. “A list?” She echoed as she followed him inside. The hallway seemed a bit brighter than the last time she’d been here and she realized there were lights installed along the halls. Lights that hadn’t been there before-- Winston’s handiwork, she realized. Winston must have fixed the place up before she left. Yet another person who was better off away from here.

Shrugging, she mulled over her response. Out of magic. Out of people to turn to. Which is why she was here, why she’d talked to Leah. “Keeping on keeping on. Just trying to fix some shit, that’s all. What about you?” She asked.

It felt like there were a million books in the Scribrary. Far too many for Orion to ever truly miss a random ghost book that Luce had borrowed a few months back. Still, there was something oddly comforting about knowing that one was going to be back where it belonged and he could mark it off the list. “Oh yeah. I sort of started a list. Like a book check out system, so that I can keep a better track where the books are. If I can’t find one I start to get stressed, so it’s a bit calming to know which ones are in someone else’s hands.” Rio shrugged following the explanation. Even he knew that it seemed a little over the top, but considering people had found their way in before without his knowledge he also thought it’d be a good idea to keep track just in case a book disappeared that he hadn’t lent out. Farther down the hallway, he couldn’t help himself from making further conversation, “For the record, what I said earlier? When you first got here? Totally a joke. I don’t blame you for either time you-” Rio held up a fist and motioned towards his face. “Just so you know.”

Rio wondered what Luce meant by that. What exactly was she trying to fix? It probably had something to do with what she was doing here asking for his help. “Good to hear.” Rio answered regardless. It hadn’t been the most positive answer, but keeping on was about as good as it got in White Crest, “Loaded question. I guess I’m alright, all things considered. It’s just been a long year already.” He didn’t want to bother Luce with all of his issues. It was just depressing and sad, “But I’m glad you dropped by. I’m happy to help with whatever you need.”

“Huh. Guess that makes sense.” Luce said, because it did on some level. She’d never liked books, never really cared much for anything that she couldn’t listen to or see or feel. But it made sense for Rio to keep track of shit. They continued down the hallway in relative silence, Luce aware of how fucking awkward it all was. She’d never really given a shit about Rio. Which was a pretty terrible thing, but it was true. Rio wasn’t someone she’d bothered to get to know-- he was just Winston’s boyfriend. But, he wasn’t just that, was he? He’d been there, that day… he’d seen what she’d done. He’d stood between her and Lydia and she hadn’t cared. And fuck. He was… human. Innocent. “You should. I shouldn’t have punched you. Either time.” She said, her voice dull, sounding almost as numb as she felt. The memories of that day still haunted her. Day and night, what she’d done, it stayed with her.

“Yeah.” Luce said offhandedly. “I feel that. A long fucking year already.” It was hard to believe that a single year had passed since she’d been pulled from her cabin by her parents, forced to live with Bea and Nell. Now, she would give almost anything to even see her parents, let alone argue with them over whether it was really necessary for her to live with her sisters as a grown ass adult. Clearing her throat as they entered a room lined with shelves crammed full of books, “Great. I’m looking for books on phoenix’s. Specifically stuff on what can cause corruption. I reached out to,” Luce paused, not knowing if Rio was exactly on the up and up with Leah, “someone who knows about phoenix’s, but they didn’t know much either.”

It was obvious from her tone that Luce didn’t want to talk about it. Orion couldn’t claim that he wanted to talk about it either. It was awkward. Especially with someone he didn’t actually know well. “I mean the first time was just a misunderstanding. I can’t fault you for looking out for Winston.” Rio shrugged. He hadn’t loved it when it had happened. And he had mostly wished that Luce would have given him at least a minute to try to explain himself before she chose to punch him instead. But Rio and Luce weren’t super close. Luce cared about Winston and owed nothing to Rio. “I can’t say I would have done the same, but that’s just because I’m very non confrontational. I’d rather silently second guess from afar.” The second time was an entirely different story. “And we all know that I wasn’t in control with Lydia. You had to do what you had to do. If anyone should be apologizing it’s me. I threw a knife at you.” The reminder of it flashed through his head. The snapping of Athena’s arm. The air whistling as the knife flew and landed in the back of Luce’s leg. He blinked the images away and tried to focus again. “I’m just saying, neither one was exactly unmotivated.”

Inside the library, Rio was able to breathe a tiny bit easier. Something about the place calmed him. Maybe being here with Luce was not any less awkward than it was in the hallway, but it felt less claustrophobic. Physically and mentally. “Phoenixes?” Rio repeated, crossing his arms and giving a huff as he tried to consider what might be useful. “Honestly? There’s not a ton of information on them in the Scribrary. I have a theory, but can’t really prove it. But I think maybe one of them knew enough about their past lives to take the books that were stored here. Or the Phoenixes that worked as Scribes never trusted them enough with the knowledge.” All of that was speculation, a theory mostly beginning when he learned that Leah’s past life had been involved with the Scribes. Part of Rio wanted to question Luce’s source. Given her sister’s relationship with Leah, it made sense that Leah directly might be the source. But he didn’t have any interest in outing the woman if Luce wasn’t privy to that knowledge. Leah was actually starting to trust Rio, despite his hunter heritage. He didn’t want to give her any reason to jeopardize that. “But I definitely have some stuff on them. Follow me.”

“I should have stopped to think. To ask questions, get some straight answers.” Luce replied dully, her boots falling heavily against the solid stone pavers of the building. How fucking old was this place anyways, she wondered absently. It seemed older than the town itself. “I should have done a lot of shit differently.” She said, but grimaced at Rio’s next words. You had to do what you had to do. No. She’d done much more than that. She remembered the way she’d set fire to innocent bystanders, people caught in the crossfire of a world they weren’t even aware of. She could feel the flames curl and crackle against their skin. She could remember the way rage and fear had coursed through her. “Sure. They weren’t unmotivated.” But they were motivated for the wrong fucking reasons.

Glancing around at the massive store of books, Luce had a hard time believing that the Scribes didn’t have much on the subject of Phoenix’s. They had to have something. They had to have information. Or else… what was Luce going to do? Give up. Go back to Adam and tell her she wasn’t the right person for the job. Her magic was gone, her sister was gone, her family had abandoned her for what she was. And now, she couldn’t-- she couldn’t even find a goddamn book. Luce wrapped her arms around herself as she listened to him, as though she could hold all the remains of who she was together. “Alright. Makes sense to me. Theories and stuff aren’t my wheelhouse, but sure. Lead the way.” She nodded.

Unable to argue that, Orion just shrugged. At the time, he had certainly wished that Luce had stopped to question Rio on the topic or tried to give him the benefit of the doubt. Partially because he didn’t enjoy getting punched in the face, but mostly because he had hoped that he ame off friendly and pleasant enough that Luce might have questioned the misunderstanding entirely. He had to remind himself that the two had not been friends at the time. He wasn’t even sure what they were now. “Yeah. Well I get that much. I would have done a lot differently too.” Like never promise a random woman that he would protect her at all costs. The only problem was that he wasn’t sure he would have done anything different. He still wanted to give people the benefit of the doubt. He just couldn’t help himself from making stupid decisions.

Rio didn’t waste any time leading her to the few materials that he had found on phoenixes. Most were journals by other scribes talking about their experience with them, though there were a few self-collected bestiaries that almost devoted a small section to them. Certainly not as vast as some of the more common supernatural creatures. Books about vampires or werewolves took up multiple bookshelves, while mentions of Phoenixes fit neatly on a single row. “I guess theories and stuff is sort of my area of expertise. If you want to call it that.” He honestly wasn’t sure what he would describe as his ‘wheelhouse’. When he got to the shelf, and pulled off a book and started flipping through it, “So if there’s anything about them it’s probably here. Feel free to start flipping through some of them. What kind of corruption do you mean?”

“Shoulda,” Luce kicked at a broken piece of cobblestone, “Coulda,” The stone bounced and skittered across the floor ahead of her, “Woulda.” She said, a grim expression on her face. There were a lot of things she would have done differently. She wouldn’t have let herself get carried away by fear, by anger. She wouldn’t have called in a favor from a woman she hardly knew or understood. She wouldn’t have listened to the words of a kid, of a… fuck. She was more than just a kid. Athena was Rio’s sister. Christ. Rubbing her forehead, Luce followed him to a different section of the scribrary. The books here were all old, leather bound things, with worn spines. No doubt used by generations of Hunters and Scribes alike. And now… her. To try and do something good for once.

“The way I see it, you’re the expert here on books. Theories go right along with that.” She shrugged. Luce wasn’t a theory gal, wasn’t a reader, barely even gave a shit about learning things she cared about. Rubbing a hand on her arm, Luce thought back to the scene she and Adam had witnessed in the forest. The way the fires had burned an natural red, the way a curved beak had seemed to jut from the phoenix’s face, while their head remained human. Pulling another book from the shelf, she paused at an anatomical diagram of a phoenix, in both human and full form. How had the person who wrote this book figured out the anatomy? Had the phoenix in this sketch offered this knowledge? Or had it been taken? Luce cleared her throat. “The flames, they didn’t burn like normal fire. Or normal phoenix fire either. There were feathers, on fire, being shed all over the place. And they didn’t go out on their own. They just kept burning, like oil. And the flames, they didn’t look right. There was this shade of red, to them. I’ve never seen fire look like that before.” She frowned, “And I know fire.”

Listening to Luce’s description, a worried line settled across Orion’ face. “That sounds scary.” He didn’t know much about phoenixes, but that definitely didn’t sound normal. Plus, he trusted Luce if she said that it hadn’t been normal. “Definitely not something you see everyday.” Rio had a bad feeling that if the former Scribe phoenixes did know anything about this it wasn’t something that they would want stored in Scribe records for anybody in the group to see. His only hope was that something was left behind, or somebody was studying the phoenix without their knowledge. Just the thought of that made him feel gross, though. He didn’t want to operate like that. Studying someone that didn’t want their secrets out. He would be better. He had to be. “Do you think they were dangerous?”

Had it been scary? Maybe. At this point, Luce had seen so much shit in this town, done so much fucked up shit… it hadn’t really registered as scary. Which was a troubling thought-- one that she could deal with later. When she wasn’t trying to stop half the woods outside of White Crest from getting set ablaze. Shrugging, she continued to flip through her book, “Nope. Not at all. Apparently, they also were able to melt through a car. Which means they’re powerful. Real goddamn powerful.” She said, thinking back to the melted shards of glass and obsidian, the dried streambed. At Rio’s question, Luce paused. Yes, definitely. But not because they wanted to be. “They’re dangerous only because they’re out of control. Whatever happened to them, it doesn’t look like it was intentional. Magic might change someone’s appearance, but it wouldn’t be enough to alter their flames. I think they’re in trouble.” I think they’re afraid of what they’ve done. What they might do.

Orion continued flipping through his own book, but couldn’t help but glance up at Luce as she described the encounter. She sounded so casual while discussing so insanely powerful. Rio had been dealing with the supernatural his entire life and he still couldn’t quite manage to keep himself that calm. “Woah. Didn’t know that was something they could do. That’s like… insanely hot.” Rio had no idea exactly how hot, but definitely not a safe amount of hot. He realized moments too late what he had said. “Hot as in like actual temperature hot, I mean. Not like attractive hot. For the record. I mean melting a car might be very attractive. I’ve never seen it for myself.” Definitely time to focus on reading that book again. He pulled it up to try to head his reddening face and only peaked over the top to look back at Luce when she gave him the best news he had heard so far tonight. That she didn’t think it was intentional. She didn’t think they were dealing with someone evil, but someone that might need help. Now that he could get behind. “In that case, we have to find something. I want to help.”

“Sure is.” Luce said off-handedly as she read a paragraph about phoenix feathers and molting patterns. Hm. Nothing there. A bit late, she realized that Rio was sputtering over his words. Glancing up from her book, she offered a grin. “Keep it in your pants there. But no, I know what you mean. It’s real fucking hot. I’ve melted metal before, but that shit takes time. And I only did doorknobs. I could never cut something as huge as a car. Guess that’s what happens when you’re basically a living sun.” She said before going back to her book. Fuck, she hated reading. Why weren’t there like… audiobooks for this shit? Or some wise old person to tell her what was up? Well. There were plenty of wise old spell casters in town, the difference was… they just wouldn’t have anything to do with her anymore. She couldn’t exactly go to them for help. So, Rio and Leah were the next best thing. At Rio’s words, Luce looked at him again, expression  pensive. “Why? This isn’t your responsibility, you don’t need to help me. Don’t get me wrong, I’m glad you are. But why?” Was he trying to ease guilt the way she was, was he trying to atone?

“Ha ha. Very funny.” Orion laugh sarcastically, thankful that Luce didn’t spend much time teasing him on the subject. Instead, she surprised him. He knew about her family's power, but he had no idea she had been strong enough to use the fire to cut metal. “That’s impressive. I guess I should have known that fire magic like that could get that powerful.” The extent of his knowledge on spellcasters came from Winston and the Vural family admittedly. The Quinn family had never partnered much with spellcasters to help catch supernatural creatures. They had always been far too proud. He hadn’t been expecting Luce to question his intentions. It took him off guard, mostly because he didn’t really know them himself. Though he had more than a few ideas. “Um… I guess I don’t know the right answer to that.” Rio shrugged, but continued to consider the question, “I guess I’ve seen a lot of bad stuff in my life? I was raised as a hunter, told that supernatural people were inherently evil and unnatural. I knew that wan’t true, but I never got a chance to help them.” More often than not, Rio had stood idly by while watching them get slaughtered. It wasn’t a feeling that Rio would soon forget, the helplessness of knowing he couldn’t stop it. The disgust at himself for not trying anyways. He had failed so many people in this town. He just didn’t want to do that anymore. “Now’s my chance. I don’t want to waste it.”

“It can.” When it works. When it wants to. “But, I couldn’t do something like that even if I wanted to.” Luce said, saying the words her brain was thinking automatically. Luce’s mouth snapped shut and she stared at Rio. Fuck. Fuck. She hadn’t meant to say that. She didn’t-- she didn’t want more people to know about this than need be. She didn’t have the protection of the coven and Bea had only just gotten back from New York, she didn’t want to add more to her sister’s plate. Same went for Nell—she didn’t want to force her baby sister to watch her back. If more people knew that Luce was without her magic, it would paint a big fucking target on her back. “I didn’t say that. You didn’t hear anything about my magic. You got it?” She asked, voice shaking slightly.

Listening to his words, Luce couldn’t help but wonder how anyone could have thought that this kid could be a hunter. He might have the genes, but there wasn’t a cruel bone in his body. “Yeah. Don’t fucking waste it.” She repeated before looking blankly back down at the book that was clutched in her hands. Any other time, the pages would be scorched and smoking in her grasp, a byproduct of her stress and anger. But the pages were only slightly crumpled under her fingers. Fuck.

Orion was left confused and concerned about Luce’s comment. It had been said so quickly that it had almost completely gone over his head completely. But a few moments after Rio’s eyes narrowed as he became perplexed by the wording. His head tilted, glancing away from the book in order to get a better look at Luce. Before he even had a chance to question her, Luce was talking again. She seemed pretty adamant that this was not something to be spoken of. Or even remembered from the sounds of it. That only concerned Rio more. “Right. Uh- didn’t hear anything.” Rio bit his lip and considered if there was anything else he should say. Adam had experienced something similar with his own abilities. Why did that thing only happen to people that actually wanted the powers? “But uh- if I did hear something, I’d definitely be there for you. Like to help figure that out. But I wouldn’t tell anyone. If I had heard anything.”

Not wasting the opportunity would be a lot easier if Rio knew what to do to help. That was the first step in helping others. Still, he appreciated Luce’s energy. It was intimidating for sure, sometimes downright scary. But it was surprisingly motivating. It made Rio want to find the answer to this more than ever. “I won’t. We’re going to help.” Rio tried remaining confident. Good vibes only. “Even if we have to write it ourselves.”

“Nope. You sure didn’t.” Luce said flatly before looking back at her book. It was useless though. She wasn’t the studying type usually and even less so when she had an audience. She glared up at him, ready to tear him a new one if he kept up on this subject. But, as she looked over at him and saw the expression on his face, she couldn’t help but sigh. She didn’t want his help, but… “We’ve got more important things to deal with than my shit. But thanks. You don’t need to, though.”

“Yeah.” She said with a nod before flicking through her book. “Whatever it takes.” Luce said quietly, the words familiar to her tongue. Not in the same context, not in the same way, but the words were just as true as they were a year ago. Whatever it takes. She’d right her wrongs, one step at a time. As she skimmed over the pages, she paused on what looked like… an ingredient list. It seemed to be talking about some kind of illness-- not corruption, exactly. But something that affected phoenix flames. “Hey. What do you think about this?” She asked, pointing at the list. “Essence of the phoenix stricken by disease. White flowered herbs found where wild creatures roam, bound with sage and lavender to purify. Tears of another freely given and,” Luce squinted at the text, “Fire. Lots of fire.”

Clearly, Luce was serious about not bringing it up. Orion continued to peak over the book at her, trying to pick up on any signs without asking. Asking wasn’t the right idea it seemed. Rio wasn’t sure that he could necessarily relate. He had always hated his abilities, had wished that they would go away. For him, losing them felt like a blessing in disguise. But for someone that seemingly liked and enjoyed the powers they had always had, it must be a lot harder. Like an extension of themselves. Rio didn’t understand, but he could guess that it must feel like losing a part of herself. “Point taken. Subject dropped.” Rio assured her, though he hoped at some point it would come up again.

Rio continued skimming through his own book until Luce pointed something out in the book she was looking through. He bent around to get a better look at the list and scanned through quickly, noting a few words that stuck out to him. “A phoenix disease? Never heard of that before. But that could make sense.” If there was ever a disease specific to phoenixes, one of the first things Rio would consider was their fire abilities and temperature. “So is the list some kind of spell? Or potion maybe?” He squinted at the list further and sighed, “They kept it pretty vague. Except for the fire part.”

At least he dropped it. That was something. Luce focused on the list-- there wasn’t much to go off of at all. It read more like an old ritual that the coven would do, one of the ancient rites that they did on a yearly basis. Big magic, powerful magic. The books Bea had kept, the ones on necromancy, they had featured lists similar to these. They were written to be vague for a reason. “It’s a spell. A potion would have more specific instructions, discussion about tinctures or timing. This is a ritual, some kind of cleansing. The sage and lavender tell me that much.” She tapped the line on the book before flipping the page. But, there were no further instructions, no other words. “Whoever wrote this, they kept their cards close to their chest. And I don’t blame them. The Scribe who figured this out, they must have worked with spellcasters and at least one phoenix. Can’t imagine either of them would have wanted the specifics of a ritual to be written out.” She said with a sigh and pulled out her phone to take a picture of the list. “I don’t know exactly what all of this means. The fire is clear and the lavender and sage are easy enough to source. The specifics of it, though. Can’t tell you.” Not for the first time, and certainly not for the last, Luce wished she was better at this. Better at all the parts of magic that she’d scorned. Because then, maybe she wouldn’t feel so lost.

Orion listened to Luce’s description intently. He was thankful to have a friend well versed on spells like that. That is what Luce was, right? A friend? Today more than ever, it seemed like there was actually a small chance of that. “Good to know.” Rio nodded, making a mental note of this in the back of his mind. He may never be involved in a spell or potion making, but he would at least remember how to tell a difference between the two, hopefully. “Big shocker there, a scribe being cryptic and vague.” He sighed. For a group dedicated to cataloguing supernatural knowledge for historical use, a lot of scribes didn’t love putting things in layman's terms. “I can’t tell you anything for sure, but I have a couple theories. That part about wild creatures. I would bet they’re referring to more than just your average wild animal. Probably somewhere with a large population of supernatural creatures. And this part,” Rio paused to look at the part about the tears of another, “Phoenix tears are supposed to be special, right? Some kind of super healer or something.”

“Witches aren’t much better. Must be a paranoid magic thing.” Luce said with a shake of her head before shutting the book. She couldn’t make heads nor tails of what it meant and, honestly, she wanted to be able to study the book on her own. It took her time to parse through magical shit, she didn’t pick up written spells and rituals quickly. “Mind if I borrow this? I’ll give it back sooner than the last batch.” She said, shaking the ancient book in her hand. “As far as what you’re saying… It makes sense, but keep looking for anything that might help. We don’t even know if this would help a phoenix who’s been corrupted. This is talking about disease, but I don’t think what we’re dealing with is a disease. I’ve got some leads I might track down, see if they can help.” She let out another sigh. “But yeah. Thanks for your help with this.”

Magic seemed fickle. Orion nodded at Luce’s statement, wondering what made it so different from hunter strength or a werewolf’s ability to turn. In the end, it was all some kind of magic, right? Some unexplained phenomenon that made people stronger or more capable than regular people. None of it made sense. But without any insight, Rio decided to just nod in agreement and leave it at that. “Yeah of course. Take whatever you want. I’ll just make a note of them before you leave. For this archive thing.” He shrugged, sure that she wasn’t interested in hearing about his attempts to modernize this ancient library. “Definitely. I’ll keep looking. Keep me updated okay? So I can help with stuff.”

Shoving the book into her backpack, Luce nodded. “I think just the one will be enough for me. It’s not exactly light reading.” She said as she shrugged on her bag. As she turned to leave, she glanced at the young Scribe for a moment. He really did want to help. And fuck, she needed the help. She wasn’t smart enough, didn’t know enough about magic outside of her own fire. And she couldn’t do this alone. It wasn’t possible, not if she wanted to help this person. “Yeah, I will. I’ll keep you posted. And if you find anything… let me know.” She said before turning her back on Rio and walking back down the dark corridors of the Scribrary. First Leah, now Rio. Who else would know about this? Who else could help her? Who else would understand why she… needed to do this?

It didn’t matter. It really didn’t. “Whatever it takes.” She repeated to herself. Whatever it takes, to bring some scrap of balance back to the world. To right the wrongs in her past. Whatever it takes. 

[faejilly]

Let’s Go Steal Some... Magic?

This is entirely the fault of a prompt from the Hunter's Moon Discord: “A Leverage Shadowhunter crossover where Alec gets desperate enough to hire a band of good thieves who’re known for being able to steal back ANYTHING to steal back Magnus’ magic.” 

I take no responsibility whatsoever for any of this, but man, I had a great time writing it, so I hope you enjoyed reading it, too 😅 (With an extra thanks to @greentealycheejelly for double-checking it at least sort of made sense.) 

Alec knows more about the mundane world than most people realize. He may, in fact, have helped encourage the impression that he's ignorant; it's not like he's been impressed by most of what he knows, so it's easier to just... not deal with it when he doesn't have to.

But there's nothing anyone in the Shadow World can do about this, so maybe... maybe it's time to try something else.

Only he's not sure where to start. He's going to have to ask for help.

Not his favorite thing, but. This is for Magnus. He'd do worse for Magnus.

Lindsay's probably his best bet, she's the one who tracks the bots and AIs that the Clave has keeping as much of an eye on the internet as anyone can manage, hoping to catch those mundanes who might cross the line from figuring out that what they're seeing is because of the Sight, into trying to do something like summoning demons or playing with dark magic.

Her reports on some of the conclusions their machine learning algorithms come up with are sometimes the highlight of his week. He liked the one that tried to figure out which folk songs were based on real adventures with the Seelie and Unseelie Courts versus the ones written by people who'd drank too much or gotten stuck in a cabin in the middle of nowhere for a longer than usual winter.

So he asks her to come see him. She looks, unsurprisingly, deeply nervous when he closes his office door behind her, and he sighs as he sits down in one of the armchairs rather than behind his desk. "I need your help, please."

She doesn't look any comforted by that comment, but she sits across from him, and refrains from either glaring or babbling, so that's something.

"I need." He stops. He's not sure what he needs. "I need to think outside the box, and as the current box is Edom and the entire Shadow World is pretty convinced that that's an impossible box to open—" Alec stops, realizing his metaphors got slightly more tangled than he'd intended. "I think I need someone who is in the know but still mostly mundane, so they're not stuck on the same preconceptions the rest of us are?"

Linday blinks at him. She clearly didn't follow that.

He frowns, but she doesn't get more tense, so at least she figured out he's frowning at himself rather than her.

Clary might have given him multiple migraines and almost as many heart attacks, but she'd barrelled through things he'd thought inviolable just because she didn't know any better, and he could use some of that, right about now.

"Magnus traded his magic to a Greater Demon in order to banish Lilith's demon, and..." He trails off again. And I have to do something about it, but the only thing I can think of is trying to negotiate with said Greater Demon myself and that's a clusterfuck of epic proportions just waiting to happen.

He'll do it, if he has to, he knows this, but that should probably be a last resort, not the first attempt.

"You want to steal it back?" Lindsay's voice cracks half way through the words, and he doesn't blame her, that sounds more insane than anything even Clary would attempt, but...

He hadn't actually framed it that way himself, and he should have. She's probably right, and that is exactly the sort of thinking he needs.

"Do you think that's possible?" He tilts his head, spreads his hands in something that's almost a shrug. "I know there are Sighted thieves, and there's a thriving grey area of mundane and Downworlder interactions with magic that don't usually end up with dead bodies or demons so we don't do anything about them."

Lindsay frowns back at him, but she looks like she's thinking, so he waits.

"Well." She starts, stops again. "There is this hacker..."

Alec blinks. "I don't think the Prince of Edom keeps his stolen magic in a server."

Lindsay snorts, and rolls her eyes at him. "Ha, ha. Sir."

Alec shrugs, and waits.

"There's a warlock, Edda White. She fosters mundane children, usually ones that lost their parents to the Shadow World, or who have the Sight."

"And she's a hacker?" That's an odd combination of jobs, but he supposes it's something one could do from home while keeping an eye on a bunch of presumably traumatized children.

He wonders if there's anything they could do to help her out. Unofficially. Or officially? The Clave really should stop pretending the Shadow World's completely separate from the mundane world, no one believes that.

"No." Lindsay shakes her head. Pauses. "Well, yes, but she's not the hacker I was thinking of, I meant one of her kids."

"If said kid's already in the Shadow World, that's defeating my outside of the box request." He's not really trying to argue with her, he's just not sure where she's going.

"Sir." Lindsay levels a stare at him. It's not as good as the ones his mother or sister can pull off, but it's not half bad.

"Sorry."

Lindsay nods, and adjusts her glasses. "He's Sighted, and he's active on some of the forums the Clave tracks, helps people find resources or contacts, which is how I know about him, but he works in the mundane world. With a team of thieves who have pulled off some really impossible jobs."

"Edom impossible?"

"No, but you said you needed some creative thieves, and they're arguably the best in this world." That is something the Clave would know, just because the few truly occult artifacts the mundane world knows about tend to be expensive, so they attract the attention of the worst sorts of people and the best sorts of thieves... who then attract the attention of the Clave, to make sure no one actually tries to use the things they've stolen. "It's a place to start."

Alec nods. It is, and that's all he asked for; he hopes it's enough. "What's his name?"

Lindsay shrugs. "No idea, but I do know how to get a message to his team. They've an open call out for people who need help and don't have anywhere else to turn."

Alec feels his lips twitch with reluctant amusement. "That certainly fits this situation, doesn't it."

Lindsay concedes with a small nod. "I'll reach out, and let you know what they say."

"Thank you."

She nods again, slightly less smoothly, as if she's not sure what to do with gratitude, though he's not sure if it's because it's him personally or the Head of her Institute in general, and slips away to get to work.

Alec closes his eyes, and lets out a sigh, and tries to hold onto the flicker of hope in his chest.

Maybe. Maybe. Maybe this is what he needs; maybe this is what Magnus needs.

Please.

***

Hardison blinks at the email he just opened.

He double checks the sender's address, and IP, and everything else he can think of to confirm it's not somehow a joke or a scam or something, but as far as he can tell by every test he can think up, it's genuine.

Leverage just got a fucking email from a Nephilim. On behalf of the goddamned Head of the New York Institute.

He pokes his computer screen, as if that'll make it disappear or something.

It doesn't.

Which is probably good, he's Sighted, not a warlock, if he started making the world change outside of a computer, he'd be in deep shit.

The email's surprisingly straightforward, in contrast to their usual potential clients, the Shadow World in general, and everything he's ever heard about Shadowhunters in particular. Shadow Hunters? Shadowhunters? He's not sure he's ever had to write that word out, he wonders which is considered proper grammar.

Holy shit, he's distracting himself with grammar.

He calls his Nana.

"I got an email about Alec Lightwood and Magnus Bane."

"Fuck."

Hardison pulls his phone away from his head and stares at it for a moment before he can handle that. "Did you just swear at me?"

"Not at you, baby." He can practically hear her roll her eyes at him. "I was old enough to swear before your grandma was a gleam in her daddy's eyes, and you know it."

Yes, but you don't, Hardison almost says out loud, not around your babies, you don't, but he swallows it down. "Some Nephilim is asking for help from us, from my team. Do you think it's legit?"

She hums, some melody he's never been able to track down or place, never heard from anywhere or anyone else, and he's glad that that's normal at least. Nana's thinking noise is exactly what he hears in his head whenever he's trying to crack a particularly tough system.

"I do. New York's gone through some shit, and I've heard some rumours about Magnus..." She trails off. "Lightwood's reputation is pretty solid, I think he'd stretch those Nephilim Laws as far as he could, if he thought it was worth it."

"Should I take the meeting then?"

Nana pauses, but she doesn't hum this time. She's not thinking, she wants to make sure he is. "You'd have to tell your team what sort of meeting it really is."

Hardison's whole body tenses up along with his face as he scrunches his eyes as closed as he can get them. He wonders if Parker and Eliot really are part-fae, like he's always thought. They've both got more than a touch of the other when he looks at them out of the corner of his eyes, and it would certainly explain how hard they are to injure, how easily they lean into each other's space, as if they've never before found someone that makes some weird sixth sense relax.

Then again, he loves them enough it might just be his own aura sparking in the way.

He wonders, if they are just a little magic, if either of them know, and just don't think they can tell him.

He wonders if they'll be mad to realize he's kept a secret from them all these years, or if they'll be hurt.

"Yeah," he sighs, and opens his eyes back up. "Don't suppose I could get a family dinner to help uh... illustrate my point?"

Nana laughs, but it's sharper sounding than usual. "If New York's as messed up as I've heard you don't have much time. Tonight good?"

Damn.

This is clearly more serious than he'd thought, and he wonders what he's missed, busy focusing on his mundane life rather than the Shadow World.

"I guess it has to be. Thanks."

Nana doesn't bother to say anything else before she hangs up on him.

He turns around, and no he does not scream, that was just a gasp, and Parker and Eliot are in the doorway, both of them staring at him.

Check mark in the supernatural column.

He smiles at them.

They don't smile back.

Hey guys, want to meet my Nana, the centuries old warlock who taught me how to see demons so they wouldn't eat me?

Yeah. That's gonna go over well.

"Don't suppose either of you believe in magic?"

Eliot does that thing where he's not frowning but is really obvious about how he's refraining from frowning so it actually feels worse than if he'd just scowled at you. "You mean science we can't explain yet, or actual magic?"

Hardison tilts his head and hands with an eh maneuver. "Vampires and werewolves and fairies, oh my?"

Parker shrugs. "Archie always said he thought I was a changeling, does that count?"

Hardison shakes his head, and sees Eliot frown for real, and knows they both wish they'd been harder on Archie when they had him in their sights. "Yes, but that's a terrible thing for him to have said."

"Why?" Parker comes into the room proper to perch on the edge of the table extending out from his desk. "If it's the truth?"

"Because he didn't think it was true," Eliot answers, his voice low and rough. "He was using it to pretend it was okay for him not to take care of you."

Parker rolls her eyes; they've had this argument before. "But if he'd tried, I wouldn't have realized how much better at it you are."

Eliot jerks, like his whole body just tried to shut-down. Hardison can't even appreciate how remarkable that is, because he's too busy feeling his brain stutter right in sync.

"What?" Parker did that are you being stupid or did I make less sense than usual? face of hers, eyes a little squinty and shoulders just starting to hunch.

"Thank you, baby girl." Hardison manages, before she thinks it's the second. "I'm still gonna be mad at him for not trying though."

She frowns, as if she thinks that's dumb, but shrugs, clearly having decided that that's just the way it is. "So does that mean you think he was right, even though he didn't know it?"

"Uh." Hardison does a whole body shrug, because he's not sure why he ever thinks his conversations with these two are gonna go the way he intends. "I have no idea, but it wouldn't surprise me? You're uh. Better at things than most humans. You both are."

"Huh." Eliot says, but not like he disagrees. "But neither of us have a problem with steel or cold iron or whatever it is."

Hardison stares at him.

"What." Eliot stares back, and Hardison can't tell if he's fucking with him on purpose or not. Damn Eliot and his poker face.

"Did you say that because you know things, or because you read fairy tales when you can't sleep?"

Eliot's face looks like he wants to say damnit Hardison but doesn't want to give Hardison the satisfaction.

"Second one, got it."

"Kindaalwaysthoughtitwasaliensanyways." Eliot mutters.*

Hardison is pleased to note that Parker joins him in giving Eliot the look.

Eliot crosses his arms in front of his chest, and looks back, and Hardison sighs. He's right, they don't have time for that right now. "We are revisiting this," Hardison says, pointing at Eliot. "But first we're going to Nana's for dinner."

Parker actually literally squeaks, and he can't tell if she's excited or nervous. "Is she a fairy too?"

"No, and they prefer Seelie or Unseelie, depending on which Court they were born into, but you know, that's a whole separate thing we also don't have time for right now. Nana is a warlock which means she can do magic and she's immortal which I know sounds like more fairy things because they are practically immortal and also do magic, but I swear it's not."

It's his turn to be getting the look from both of them, and he stops. Starts again. "So. Uh. Demons? Totally a thing?"

Eliot sighs, and finally stops lurking as his shoulders relax into something more like at-home-Eliot rather than working-Eliot. "You made a multi-media presentation, didn't you?"

Hardison opens his mouth, and shuts it again. He did, like three different times, and he keeps deleting it and starting over, but he supposes that might be one way to go in order without thinking about Nana swearing and the email and trying to jump to angels are real and angel-blooded people kill demons and the Head of the New York Institute wants our help! before that means anything to anyone.

"Ooh." Parker sits up straighter. "Should I go get some popcorn?"

"Why not." Hardison can't help the smile, doesn't even try. "We'll have a proper briefing in five."

***

Magnus is not entirely sure why Alec invited him to his office, it's not like I can help with missions anymore, and seeing Alec sitting on the edge of his desk wringing his hands when he walks in the door doesn't calm his nerves any.

"Magnus!" Alec looks up, and his smile's not any more comforting than the wringing hands were.

"You're here."

"You asked me to be here." Magnus offers, and makes himself walk further into the office. He's not sure what else to say, and just lifts an eyebrow in Alec's general direction.

Alec shrugs, and bites his lip as he shifts his weight, and then suddenly his tension melts away and he's standing at parade rest and oh, whatever this is, it's clearly important. "I did."

Magnus holds up one finger, turns around to close and lock the door behind him, and faces Alec again.

Alec offers him a crooked almost smile, much more sincere than the last one, and the tension between Magnus' shoulder-blades eases a little, though it definitely doesn't go away. "I have a potentially terrible idea, but it's for you, so it's your choice to make, not mine."

Oh.

Magnus considers that, nods to himself, and goes to sit on the couch. He lifts his head, and makes himself meet Alec's eyes. "All right."

"I want to hire some... consultants, to see if there's a way to get your magic back without having to try and make another deal with Asmodeus."

Magnus doesn't move. He doesn't even blink. If he had his magic he'd probably blow up the chair next to him. "No."

Alec's shoulders slump. "Magnus."

"No." Magnus stands up, his hands clenched and his jaw too tight and he wants to scream, but he doesn't. "Asmodeus is too dangerous."

"And he's going to be less dangerous later if with your magic he can overthrow Lilith while she's still weak from the Mark of Cain?" Alec's voice is quiet, but even so Magnus can barely hold in the wince. "Do you really think he'll be more inclined to stay quietly in his own Realm without interfering with the rest of us if she's no longer there to keep him in check?"

Magnus swallows, refuses to think about the things he did at his father's side the last time Asmodeus freely wandered around Earth. "You said this was for me."

"It is!" Alec's voice and hands lift, and then he stops, his arms drop. He's holding himself so tightly it looks like he's a breath away from shattering. "I would sacrifice anything to help you Magnus, just like you did to stop Lilith, to save Jace, but that doesn't mean helping you isn't also doing my job."

Magnus can't move, can barely breathe.

He exhales, long and slow, and closes his eyes.

He can't argue that, because if he did, it would make everything he'd done to save Jace, to stop Lilith, all of it, for nothing. They can't let either Lilith or Asmodeus take over Edom without the other, can't afford the risk of that much power being concentrated in one person. Demon.

Monster.

Magnus opens his eyes again, and somehow Alec can tell, Alec can always tell, and he's right there, reaching out to cup Magnus' jaw in his warm hands before kissing him, soft and sweet. "Thank you."

Magnus huffs out a breath, and leans in to rest against the warmth of Alec's chest. "Thank you. So who are these... consultants then?"

"Um." Magnus tilts his head enough to look at Alec, who's looking at the ceiling as if too embarrassed to meet Magnus' gaze. He rolls his lips in tight, then pops his mouth open and sighs. "Thieves?"

"What." Magnus steps back, so he can glare properly. And also enjoy the way Alec's squirming, because it's not often Alexander gets tongue-tied around him anymore, and if he's going to go through with this insanity, he might as well try and get some enjoyment out of it. "You. Want to steal my magic back?"

"I mean, that seems slightly more likely than negotiating it out of a Greater Demon?" Alec shrugs, and rubs the back of his neck, and his mouth twists before his whole body sags with a sigh. "I don't know, but I certainly don't know how to get it back without risking Asmodeus pulling one over on us, do you?"

"But you think your thieves might?" Magnus can't help it, his voice cracks.

"Not my thieves." Alec shrugs again. "Lindsay found them, and Edda White said she could portal them to us whenever we come to an agreement on a meeting time and place."

"Edda?" He stops again. Edda, who fosters mundane children and likes to play with computers and has the weirdest running bet with Catarina about the stupid excuses they've used to convince mundanes that the magic they just saw wasn't really magic... "Mundane thieves?"

"Well, anyone in the Shadow World would start already convinced that it was impossible, wouldn't they?"

Magnus can't argue with that, either, and this is the weirdest conversation he's possibly ever had, and that's saying something, considering the number of times he's been high or drunk and determined to not let it stop him from doing... well. Anything. "Huh," is all he manages. "That. Almost makes sense."

Alec grins. "I know, weird, huh."

Magnus' chest aches, because oh, he hasn't seen that sort of look on Alec's face since they found out about Jace, before Magnus went to Edom, before he lost...

Before they lost so much.

Magnus laughs, and Alec's grin widens, a glint in his eyes as if he's as delighted and surprised as Magnus is to realize they're both actually looking forward to this. "Let's go meet some thieves."

[asterekmess]

S3A - E9

The last episode took me Hours to get through with all my notes, let’s hope this one doesn’t hurt my fingers so bad.

My fingers hurt too much to come up with a clever pun so Read More:

Thoughts:

This is a dumb first bullet point, but I love Tara’s hair. It looks like it’s braided or something, then in a bun at the back? I like it.

What exactly was the reasoning for her walking into the school alone like this? Let alone going That far into it? If it’s a 911 call that she’s so nervous about she has her hand on her gun, then shouldn’t there be more than one officer??

ALSO, that seems like Very Bad routine procedure? You got a 911 call (but we get no explanation as to what it was FOR) and the first thing you say when you see someone is “Why are you here?” shouldn’t you be asking “Who made the 911 call?” And then you tell them to leave, and to tell anyone Else they see to leave. When they could easily SEE the person you’re wanting to aim a gun at and TELL them to leave because there’s a cop in the school.

So I’m torn between Julia being just that sick and wanting to terrify each of her sacrifices (which...she talks about them like she’s Genuinely sad she had to kill them, but it was necessary to save the world, so that doesn’t sit right with me?) or fear being a Necessary part of the ritual, like, that the sacrifices Couldn’t be willing?

Honestly, Lyds, that’s so smart and reasonable. “I had to have the weird blackout to get here. YOU get to go find the body.”

What was the point of the staging in the shower room if she was gonna get thrown onto the sign?? Why move her at all?

ALSO if this is supposed to be a threefold death, then didn’t she do it wrong? She killed Tara by strangulating her, but didn’t do the head bash or the throat until after she’d moved her body, for some reason??? Don’t they need to happen like..near the same time?

No to mention that there wouldn’t be much blood bc her throat was slit After death, so the blood wasn’t pumping. Even laying her down wouldn’t render a large amount. But they’re going for horror, so...i guess i’ll let it pass.

Why does it feel like Julia is going after people close to STiles specifically? First Heather, now Tara? And then his Dad? That’s a weird coincidence when she’s got the entire town to choose from.

Also, sheriff, i love you, but ‘they’re not going to get away with killing one of our own.” is a REALLY fucked up line. Police getting pissed ONLY when other Police are the ones killed is SO FUCKED UP. Logistically, police are FAR more likely to get killed than citizens are, aren’t they? They’re the ones that’re supposed to be running into danger? Like, Soldiers don’t Only get pissed when other soldiers are killed, right? It’s literally like...your job to be in potentially fatal situations? that’s not even my point! My point is that your line implies that law enforcement was Half-assing it before a cop got killed. half a dozen people have died, so Beacon Hills should be Swarming with cops, but for some reason the big guns don’t come in until a cop dies? Your phrasing sucks, Noah. Were you gonna let them get away with it if they killed everybody BUT the cops? I’m being sarcastic on that last bit, btw.

I’ll admit, it’s nice to get some actual SUNSHINE in CALIFORNIA

Is Chris letting Allison stay home because she saw a dead body? FOr as long as she wants? I’m so confused, she’s seen Much worse things, shouldn’t it like raise an alarm that she’s choosing NOW to stay home?

Your badassery is tainted by the fact that you’re wearing a dress and fishnets, Allison. If you’re gonna go hunting put on some pants. or shorts AT LEAST. that’s just not Practical.

I love how blatant a lie Stiles is telling Julia in class. “do you play?” “No, my father does” when we Know he plays, and besides if his dad plays then stiles MUSt because that’s a two person thing most of the time? But no, he doesn’t want Julia to know Shit about him.

the loyalty of Lydia not going near Aiden after learning he killed Boyd is SO refreshing. I TOLD you, if she knew Aiden was a murderer she’d never have gotten with him in the first place.

NOt Derek. CORA. MY BABE BONDS FAST. (I mean, she was locked in a bank vault with him for however long)

FIrst off, I love Stiles losing his shit. Second, the acting here is so sub-par, and it looks like a writer’s mistake. okay, so, in acting, interruption is an ART. You have to let someone say enough to get their line across, but INterrupt them before they can finish in a way that looks natural. And you have to make sure not to come in late or you get an awkward pause (this is more common with newbies bc experience actors don’t stop their line, they keep it going until you figure it out.) So like The line is ...And shove it up your freaking--” Now, Scott needs to interrupt without being late, otherwise, unless Stiles Continues the line, he’ll pause after saying ‘freaking’ and it’ll be noticeable. here, the way scott interrupts him feels So Wrong, in part because he let’s Stiles get so far into his threat.

Also, I’m fucking pissed that Scott is downplaying how angry Stiles is. “okay, we get it.” is just...a garbage way to respond to a friend who’s hurting and clearly on edge, thinking Ethan is threatening him.

Exactly How do you “Know” Ethan didn’t want to kill Boyd? You weren’t there, fuckface.

Is this set after school? They’re shouting their heads off and no one’s coming? Even Stiles was shouting about wolfsbane.

THAT IS NOT HOW ACTUAL WOLF PACKS WORK YOU FUCKER. THAT’S A GARBAGE MYTH.

Hearing Cora’s little gasp as her head hit the wall hurt my heart.

Normally I’d be pissed about the girl standing back and not doing anything, but Lydia would be ripped apart and I do not blame her for shouting from the sideline.

I don’t understand what the hell is going on with the Chris stuff. Like, I guess he’s supposed to be looking into it on his own, but that still doesn’t explain where he got the information on this very specific ritual.

But I do understand Allison’s hesitance to outright ask her father what the fuck he’s doing, since last time that happened she was taken to a chained up derek in an underground tunnel system. Finding out her family are monsters is kind of her entire life, unfortunately.

Honestly, fuck yes. Cora go off. Though, I’m sad that no one is mentioning Erica, like At All. You realize she ALSO died at the hands of the ALphas, right? why does no one mention her when they talk about getting revenge?

I...am not talking about this scene.

I gotta say that I enjoy the fact that Allison called Stiles. That’s just...that’s p cool. BUT while it’s cute that her contact picture is from her conversation with Stiles in s2, it’s weird bc it’s a screenshot of the show, and we know that Stiles wasn’t taking pictures at that moment. But the effort is sweet!

I will say that it’s interesting that Cora doesn’t fight Stiles about helping him with his dad. She just finished yelling at Scott, Lydia, and presumably Stiles, and she’s clearly unhappy with literally everyone but Derek, but she’s been very humoring of Stiles. In every scene together, even when she’s snarking at him, she’s not an Asshole.

This conversation with Morrell makes...no sense. Scott literally said in the last episode that good liars wouldn’t have jumping heartbeats when they lied. Then he immediately went to ask Morrell if she was the killer and believed her (even though she’s sketchy as fuck) just because her heart didn’t jump. Wtf?

“But if I kill someone, I can’t be a True Alpha, right?” WHO SAID THAT EVER? WHO TOLD YOU THAT? SINCE WHEN? WTF?

I don’t know if it was intentional (maybe they mention it, but i haven’t gotten that far) but technically having this history teacher disappear leaves an empty class for Kira’s dad to fill when she shows up. Which is neat.

I will forever be angry that Aiden is touching Lydia here. He shouldn’t be near her. And that’s not even me being cranky! She IS PISSED AT HIM. She was avoiding him before today and even then the only reason she went near him was to act as a distraction.

Also, again, I am amazed at Cora’s PATIENCE with Stiles here. Seriously, they’ve clearly been there for a while as Stiles tries to find the words, but Cora didn’t just get pissed stand up and say “I’m a werewolf. People are dying. Help.” She continued to wait for him to talk.

When does stiles rearrange his room? I swear in the beginning of this season it was still in the previous formation with the corner bed sticking out and the desk under the window. Now the desk is facing a totally different direction and his bed’s up against the wall. It’s great, but like, when does it happen? Isn’t this literally the second time we’ve seen his room the whole season?

that’s such a weird text. “Mr Westover Missing” like I don’t know if it’s from Lydia or Scott, but you’re allowed to add some detail? Your keystrokes aren’t limited and there are no government agencies watching your texts for information.

Oh, poor Cora. I honestly wasn’t expecting to bond with her so quickly when I first saw her, but there’s something about getting to see characters being calm that really helps me vibe with them? Like, when they’re nothing but Fight Fight Fight it’s hard to actually relate in any way, but when you actually get to see them talk or relax, then you worry about that being taken away from them.

However much I hate Isaac and everyone else Constantly saying “But I want Scott here. We should ask Scott, blah blah blah” I will say that it’s getting REALLY annoying that Allison’s entire personality is “I”m going to run in with almost zero backup bc I want to be powerful and strong, but then I have to be saved bc I refused to ask for help in the first place.”

Wtf do you mean ‘i’m not that good at this yet’ Isaac? You’ve been a werewolf for literally like 5 months, only like two months less than Scott, and you were LIVING with a born werewolf for that ENTIRE time.

Chris you were shooting at nothing for like two-thirds of that time. That was an empty room. ALSO, if you’ve been there the whole time, why did you wait until he was dead to come out shooting?

Chris yells “help Him” and you go run to stand next to his body without bothering to pull him off the cord around his neck? You realize he might not be completely dead right? Or is his throat already cut?

Also, I wanna note, it was daylight when Cora passed out. Now it’s dark! He went to the ER with her and STAYED with her. I get that people say STiles is kind of callous, but he Constantly goes out of his way for near strangers, and I don’t think that should be overlooked.

No youfcking wouldn’t have Chris, you had tons of time while they were using the garrotte and you just stood there. They came in just before the kill was done, and except for Tara Julia has been leaving people’s bodies where they fall so she wouldn’t left right after. You were NOT ‘this’ close.

Yeah, yeah, and you’re both fucking guilty of being incapable of conversation. Chris you are the adult here, fucking act like it. You had a million chances to confront your daughter and you didn’t. Apparently that’s a habit she picked up from you.

What are they talking about, Scott healing himself?? He was thrown back, he wasn’t injured. I literally just went back and rewatched that scene. He falls backward and he’s completely fine. Stiles, there are so many better instances you could point to. For example, things that actually Happened.

That line is never gonna not hurt.

Stop touching Danny. Stop being near Danny. You are a literal serial killer, get your hands off him. GOD. your brother literally said he would murder danny if he saw you with him anymore, why are you putting him in danger? FUck you.

.....okay, lydia’s speech was meaningful until she fucking turned it into scott worship. Why couldn’t you have stopped at letting her say “maybe I’ll find them before it happens” Why couldn’t it be about HER for once? Why did you have to make it about how everyone thinks sunshine comes out Scott’s ass even though he’s literally not done a single thing to warrant it. He hasn’t Saved Anyone. He hasn’t done Anything to warrant all this trust. Lydia wasn’t there when he made Derek kill Gerard. SHE was the one to save Jackson. And Scott was the one who had to be saved BOTH when Allison had to stitch him up and when Stiles had to go after him in the gasoline. Jackson is the one who saved Lydia when Peter went after her. Scott Didn’t save deaton, that was Noah. He wasn’t the one who killed Peter, that was a combination of Stiles and Jackson’s molotovs and Derek’s claws. Scott wasn’t even the one to protect Lydia when Derek and the pack went after her, that was Stiles, Allison, and Jackson. SHe had no idea that Scott was even THERE until she ran out of the house. Scott didn’t stop Matt, that was Allison’s family scaring him off and then Gerard killing him. THe only possible thing that could count was him saving the two little kids while Boyd and Cora were running around in the woods, and Lydia doesn’t even KNOW about that. Scott has canonically done NOTHING worth all this faith and ‘leader’ nonsense.

were...were they hinting at a Scott/Lydia relationship before they brought Kira in? Holding hands isn’t really a friend thing...?

That....is the softest most broken little ‘hey’ that I’ve ever heard and I’m Instantly on the verge of tears, holy shit.

Derek, honey, what do you mean ‘not again’? You’ve never left Cora, unless you count moving to New York with Laura and Cora was in South America! This line would make so much more sense if they’d given us Any idea what happened to Cora after the fire.

Normally, i’d be annoyed that Melissa is just ignoring the laws about paperwork. I’d even be annoyed that she did it for the Sheriff. BUT, Melissa is in the know about the supernatural and she KNOWS that the murders are supernatural. I’m sorry but Supernatural needs trump human laws. Melissa is totally a boss for this.

EYYYY actual druid (specifically magician druids) thing they got right (though i’m not sure it was on purpose). Magician Druids were Very Well Known for their nature magic. For causing storms and droughts and high winds and fog. The building storm around the school is like, Peak magician magic.

God, it really....it really grinds my gears watching Isaac’s progression toward the most abuse he can find. You notice how, in season 2 when Derek was attacking the Betas on the regular and doing awful shit like breaking Isaac’s hands, Isaac was loyal as Fuck to him? (right up until randomly going to Scott to decide whether to leave town) Then, this season, we start off with Derek being pretty fucking gentle, there’s no indication that he’s been continuing the abuse. Isaac questions his command and Derek’s response is ‘do you trust me?’ to which Isaac easily says yes. In fact, Isaac asks Derek to be the one to hurt him for the memory seeking thing, and Derek refuses because he wants to do what’s Safer for Isaac.Then he throws the glass and Isaac bails bc it’s a direct reminder of what his dad did. Only he goes to Scott, who was incredibly violent toward him in the previous season. (And who we know will be violent toward him in the future as well) But the only time he lists away from Scott, is to go after Allison, who Tackled him to the ground and held a knife to his throat, and whose father inherently hates werewolves and is a constant danger to him. Yet he never goes in the direction of people who Haven’t hurt him. He could go to Deaton, who’d taught him the pain-drain thing and was nothing but kind to him in that short time. He could’ve gone to Boyd after Derek’s lashing out, his pack member, who would never hurt him. Hell, he hates Stiles’ guts, but he could still have gone to him. Stiles was the one to help Derek free him from Jail after all, and he’s not wanted anymore so Noah wouldn’t have anything against him. Stiles may have threatened Isaac to keep him from hurting Lydia, but he never personally laid a hand on him. But he went to Scott. Someone who’s beaten him bloody multiple times.

So, really focusing on the details here, but on Julia’s death record, her  ‘jane doe’ occupation is listed as “Child” Oh, and apparently there was Froth present on the body.

Okay, so I think I understand what they’re saying. The reason Julia lived after getting to the hospital was because the birds sacrificed themselves and their life force kept her holding on. Now, either this was a spontaneous thing, and the birds did it For her. Or she Made them, because we know she doesn’t need to Be There to control weird shit. She could’ve set it up before she left the Nemeton or passed out or whatever. My confusion is. If that’s the explanation for the bird suicides, then what the Fuck happened on the first day when all the birds came crashing through the window?? There was no reason for that to happen. She was totally fine! And doing it to frighten people doesn’t make sense because she set off the radars of everything supernatural in town. (And Stiles.)

This kind of mass mind-control is kind of insane and makes the situation with Derek just That much more awful. I am so sickened.

Now, on the subject of the chanting, I assume it’s part of the ritual since it’s present at the deaths so much. The question is, where did Julia Get it? THOUGHTS: This chant isn’t present at any of the virgin kills. It’s not there with Heather, and while we don’t see the boy at the pool’s abduction/death, Emily Also didn’t hear it during her hallucination. What if it’s part of the virgin sacrifice perk? Like, Julia could Only Use it after killing the virgins, because it’s got some kind of mind-control thing about it?

Wh--why didn’t Julia tape her arms down before she woke up? Why make the garrotte before ensuring her victim couldn’t Punch her in the face??

I thought you JUST said she wasn’t going to be a sacrifice?

Still confused. You didn’t sacrifice Lydia, so that doesn’t count as the third philo, but then the teacher who died onstage wasn’t a threefold death, or the hanging thing, they just got their throat cut and they were poisoned. So....what? Was that supposed to count as your sacrifice?

Nobody TOUCHES Noah, who managed to be the only fucking cop on tv i’ve ever seen follow sensible procedure which is to shoot them in the fucking leg when they walk toward you menacingly, rather than threatening to shoot them in the head and doing nothing.

Final Thoughts:

There was a lot in this episode that didn’t make sense. It’s very clearly an amping up for the finale thing, but it’s annoying that after all this time they’ve essentially made the Alpha pack a time waster. The whole thing with getting Derek in the pack is relatively meaningless now that there’s a Darach going after the Alphas. I dunno, feels kinda off.

Anyway, onward.

[idnek83]

First Christmas

Rating: Mature

Pairing: Soda Kazuichi/Tanaka Gundham

Tags: Christmas Fluff, Established Relationship, Lots of causal smooching, No Smut, Implied Sexual Content, Alternate Universe - Non-Despair 

Summary: Soda and Gundham get ready for their first Christmas together. It's not much, and they definitely spent too much on questionable decorations, but, somehow, it's still perfect.

Read on Ao3

__________________

Christmas with Gundham was… different.

Neither of them had come from families where Christmas had been a huge thing. Soda was used to a discount tree and mismatched ornaments, some of which he had made himself with spare parts from the shop. As far as presents went, he usually got some new socks or something else practical, and, on years where his parents had the money to spare, a new screwdriver or wrench to add to his personal collection.

He had never woken up to piles of perfectly wrapped presents under an equally perfect tree, but he always enjoyed the day as a kid.

He had asked Gundham what his own Christmases had been like growing up, and between his eccentric words, Soda had gathered that they had had somewhat similar experiences: modest decorations and practical gifts.

The biggest difference appeared to be the “abhorrent feast” Gundham’s mother would serve every year.

“The angle who bore me created such fierce dishes; they would cause the toxins in my body to become so concentrated I could hardly withstand them myself.”

Soda cringed at the idea of spending every Christmas sick to your stomach, but couldn’t help but be touched by the idea of Gundham forcing himself to eat whatever his mother served him just so he wouldn’t hurt her feelings.

Soda usually just had take-out for Christmas, it was one of his favourite parts of the holiday.

But like he said, Christmas with was different.

_

At some point in November the topic had come up, and the two of them had started making plans for how they wanted to spend their first Christmas together.

They ended up going tree shopping at the beginning of December.

A little pop-up tree shop had shown up just down the street from their little apartment, and when Soda had seen it, he ran home and excitedly grabbed Gundham. He began to ramble about how he wanted to get the biggest, fullest tree he could carry, sweeping Gundham up into his arms as he did as if to demonstrate. Gundham had just laughed at him and allowed himself to be carried as Soda began to sing random bits of Christmas songs off key and dance around the apartment.

“While I am enjoying this ritual, my beloved, I do not see how it will procure us a tree.”

Soda blushed and place Gundham back on the ground, looking slightly embarrassed and, in Gundham’s opinion, very cute.

“Shall we?” Gundham reached for his boyfriend’s hand and moved to the door, watching as Soda immediately perked back up.

“Hell yeah.”

They made the short trek to the tree shop, Soda gushing about the amazing tree they were going to get the whole way. However, once they arrived and Soda actually got a look at the price tags on those big, full, amazing trees, his face fell. He knew they were expensive, but damn, they were really expensive.

Gundham had picked up on his disappointment, and began doing his best to make excuses for why the ‘amazing’ trees were actually subpar; a hole here, a strange lump there, and branches to weak to hold “proper seasonal embellishments” all over the place. Soda knew exactly what Gundham was doing, but just nodded along and squeezed his hand a little tighter as they looked for a more reasonably priced tree.

They ended up finding one that was somewhat sparse, but it was tall and had a good shape to it and, most importantly, was in their budget. After paying, Soda made quite the show of lifting it himself, hoisting it over his shoulder and flexing his free arm in an exaggerated manner to make Gundham smile.

It had been a little trouble getting it through the narrow halls of their apartment building, but a few minutes later, they had it set up in a corner of their home, undecorated but bringing a festive feeling to the space all the same.

Gundham noticed Soda’s previous bravado had died down and he was alternating between glancing up at the tree and down his hand where he was absentmindedly rubbing at some sap.

“What is wrong, dearest consort? Does this tree no longer please you?”

“N-no, it’s just… Well, I guess I just feel kinda dumb? I made a big deal about getting us the perfect tree and-“

“And you succeeded in doing so.” Gundham placed a hand on Soda’s cheek and kissed him. He was used to his boyfriend’s tendency to doubt himself, but that didn’t mean he was just going to let him do it. “Perhaps this tree has more space between its limbs than you had wished, but that will only make it easier for us to adorn it as we see fit.” He wrapped and arm around Soda’s waist and drew him closer, hand still on his cheek. “We shall create the most formidable display with it, we will be the envy of all who gaze upon it, and all will know us to be true masters of these yuletide rituals.”

Soda began to laugh as Gundham kissed him again.

“You’re right man, we’re gonna decorate this tree so good that it makes all our friend’s want to throw their trash trees out.”  He finally returned Gundham’s kisses, and they both decided to spend the rest of the evening in their bedroom.

_

“We should probably buy some ornaments soon, starting to feel weird just having a naked tree in the corner.

After a very pleasant evening, Soda and Gundham had decided it best to leave decorating the tree for the next day, only to realise in the morning that neither of them actually owned Christmas decorations.

The weather had been bad that day, so they put off shopping. However, a week had now gone by and the tree remained bare.

“You are right, my love.” Gundham stroked Soda’s messy hair and kissed his forehead. “Should we wait too long, we may find an inadequate selection as well.”

Soda untangled himself from Gundham’s arms and the blanket he had thrown over them once they had finished making love on the couch.

“We could probably do it now, if you’re feeling up to it?” Soda waggled his eyebrows at Gundham.

“You know full well it takes plenty more to render me immobile.” Gundham flashed a smirk, half humorous and half suggestive.

Before Soda could get to wrapped up in the thoughts of the last time he had immobilized Gundham, making him scream over and over until he was too tired to move, Gundham stood up. He began to dress himself, laughing and tossing Soda his boxers when he noticed his boyfriend getting excited again.

“There will be plenty of time for that later, dear consort, but for now, the tree demands adornment.”

They had dressed, much to Soda’s disappointment, and headed to the store.

_

Once they had arrived Soda wished they had put off shopping for an entirely new reason. There were just so many options. If they had waited and there really had been fewer ornaments available, then at least I would be easier to make a choice.

Soda looked to Gundham, but he looked just as overwhelmed by the selection. There were aisles upon aisles lined with various Christmas decorations, and at lest two appeared to be solely dedicated to tree ornaments.

They shared a look before heading down an aisle at random, hoping they would know what they wanted when they saw it.

It had been at least 20 minutes. Soda and Gundham had walked up each aisle a number of times and Soda was starting to feel exhausted. They should probably just grab something at this point. The only thing He had really manage to decide was that he liked the gold ornaments best, but that still left way too many options.

“Gundham, I’m going to die if we don’t pick something soon. Please, just grab something and lets go.”

“If you are sure…” Gundham glanced at the closest shelf, considering the selection for half a second before grabbing a box of gold and silver ornaments. “Do these suit your desires?”

Soda loved Gundham so much. “Yes. Beautiful. I love you. Let’s leave now.” Soda kissed Gundham and took the box from his hands. He moved to leave but caught Gundham glancing to a shelf just a little further down the aisle.

Soda turned to see what Gundham was looking at. It took a moment, Soda was at the point where all of the ornaments were starting to look the same, but he was pretty sure he knew which set Gundham was looking at.

He walked over to the shelf and picked up the box of all black ornaments.

“These ones too then.” He proudly proclaimed and begin to walk towards the tills.

“Dearest… you do not have to do that. I understand my taste can be a bit… ostentatious…” Soda knew Gundham sometimes got a little embarrassed about how much he liked anything that looked dark and/or mysterious, but he also knew his boyfriend genuinely enjoyed that stuff too.

So he just squinted at Gundham and reached for a second box of black ornaments before finally heading for the tills.

Gundham chased after him, obviously a bit flustered. He kept muttering apologies and telling Soda he really didn’t need the ornaments until they finally made it home.

Once the door shut behind them, Soda took Gundham’s face in both his hands and kissed him.

“Done apologizing? Get it out of your system?” He stared at Gundham until he nodded. “Good. Cus I love you and your stupid goth style, and I think these ornaments are fucking sweet.” Soda kissed him again. “Gonna have the most badass tree anyone’s ever seen.”

Gundham was smiling again, a soft embarrassed smile, but a smile nonetheless.

“Shall we begin then?”

_

An hour later Soda had to admit that 3 boxes or ornaments may have been too many, but the tree looked awesome and he wasn’t going to complain.

Covered from top to bottom in black, with accents of gold and silver and some warm white lights in between, the tree was a sight to behold. Yeah, it looked extra as hell, but Soda really did think it looked badass. Hell, even if he had hated it, it would have been worth it to see the look on Gundham’s face.

Gundham was openly smiling at the tree, looking as happy as he had been on the day Soda had admitted his feelings to him, and it was making his heart melt.

Soda wrapped his arms around Gundham from behind, and hummed into his shoulder.

“Y’know you really do have good taste, babe.” He couldn’t help but playfully bite at Gundham’s neck, making him laugh a little. “You fell in love with me after all.” He blew a raspberry into Gundham’s neck and they both dissolved into a puddle of smiles and laughter.

_

It was tacky. Soda knew it was tacky, and he picked up a back up just in case Gundham hated it, but he couldn’t resist it.

He had been out looking for a tree topper, probably some kind of star since neither of them were religious and an angle would look out of place on their tree, which had been “imbued with dark and mysterious energies.” And he really had planned on finding a nice star, preferably a gold one with some black accents or something to match the rest of the tree, but then he saw it.

The tree topper was a hamster. It’s arms and legs were spread wide, so it was vaguely star shaped, and it was dressed like Santa. Soda had choked when he saw it. Then he immediately bought it, grabbing a more generic looking gold star only after he broke out of his ‘buying-a-stupid-thing-Gundham-might-hate-but-might-also-love’ haze.

Now, standing at in front of the door to their apartment, Soda felt unbelievably stupid. It had just been a dumb waste of money. Gundham was gonna hate it and make Soda sleep on the couch for the night to make him think about what he had done. Ok, well, whatever. He’d just show Gundham the back up star and return the hamster later, he never even had to know about it.

He entered their apartment and the tension in his body immediately began to fade. Gundham was in the kitchen, humming along to Christmas music and pulling something out of the oven that smelled like it might be gingerbread. He turned and smiled at Soda before returning to what he was doing.

Soda set down his bag and started taking off his winter gear. While he was hanging his jacket, he heard Gundham approach him.

“Did you find an adequate decoration, dearest?” He placed a slightly flour covered hand on Soda’s shoulder and bent to kiss his cheek.

“Mmhm, it’s in the bag-” Shit. He kicked off his boots as fast as he could and turned. “Wait, Gundham-“

“Oh, this is magnificent. Excellent choice, my beloved, dark consort.” Thank Hamster Jesus, Gundham had pulled the normal star from the bag.  “Hmm? What else did you-” Soda retracted his thanks from Hamster Jesus, he could rot in Hamster Hell.

Gundham gently set the gold star down as he starred in horror at the abomination that was the hamster Santa star.

“Look, Gundham, I can explain. I just-”

Gundham burst out laughing. He clutched the Hamster Santa to his chest and absolutely cackled.

“Uh, Gundham?”

Soda watched in horror as he witnessed what he could only assume was Gundham snapping and going absolutely bat-shit insane. He had doubled over and fallen to his knees, still laughing so hard that Soda was sure he couldn’t breathe.

“Babe?”

Gundham took a deep, shaky breath and wiped tears from his eyes before setting Hamster Santa to the side and extending a hand so Soda could help him up.

At least, that’s what Soda had thought he wanted.

Gundham pulled his boyfriend to the ground with him, expertly rolling Soda onto his back and pinning him below him. Gundham bent to kiss all over Soda’s face, laughing a little again.

“Um, so…” Soda was at a loss for words. Had he broke his boyfriend with the shitty star or-

“I love it. It is terrible and I do not believe I have ever loved an object more.” Gundham laughed a little and sat back on his knees, reaching for Hamster Santa again and allowing Soda to sit up. He turned it in his hands and chuckled.

“Uh, really? You sure it’s not too, uh, tacky?” Soda smiled a little and placed a hand on Gundham’s thigh.

“Oh, it is incredibly tacky. Were I freed from this mortal shell and once more able to access the full depths of my dark power, I still do not believe I would be able to find any object more so.” Soda frowned, but Gundham kissed him again. “And yet, it brings me great joy to think you saw this and thought ‘what better gift could there be to bring my beloved, than an abomination which depicts a fusion one of his most cherished dark beasts with the blasphemous idol of a once holy day.’” Gundham laughed again and patted Hamster Santa with more affection than it really deserved.

“Uh, yup, my exact thoughts, word for word.” ‘Hamster funny, give Gundham’ was close enough to what Gundham had said, right? “But really, we don’t have to put that one on the tree, we can just put it somewhere else, or return it, or-“

“This beast will adorn the most honored spot on our tree, and I will not hear otherwise.”

“But won’t it kinda ruin the, like, aesthetic?”

“It will make the aesthetic, my love, and we will place it immediately.” Gundham stood and pulled Soda up with him, giving him another kiss on his forehead before pulling him to the tree by his hand. He proudly handed Hamster Santa to Soda. “Do the honours, my dearest.”

Soda grimaced as he was handed the tacky decoration, he really didn’t want to ruin their tree, and besides-

“I can’t reach the top of the tree, where’s the-” He was cut off by Gundham wrapping his arms around his waist and lifting him into the air. Soda couldn’t help but laugh, he liked being picked up by Gundham almost as he liked picking him up. “Fine then, have it your way.” He (gently) slammed Hamster Santa on top of the tree and crossed his arms defiantly, playing up his fake annoyance.

Only to lose any semblance of actual irritation when Gundham hoisted him slightly higher and threw him over his broad shoulder. Soda let out and incredibly manly squawk as Gundham patted him on the ass.

“Thank you, my consort, allow me to express my deepest gratitude.” Gundham’s voice had taken a very familiar tone, slightly deeper than it already was, and Soda found he no longer wanted to protest as Gundham carried him to their bedroom.

_

Christmas day had, admittedly, been fairly similar to the Christmases Soda had growing up. No giant pile under the tree, and mostly practical presents. Emphasis on mostly, Soda thought as he leaned back against Gundham’s chest on the couch in his reindeer onesie. Gundham wore a matching one. It hadn’t been planned, they had both bought each other the same stupid onesie complexly by coincidence, and they had both lost their shit laughing when they opened them at the same time as well.

Even if the day itself hadn’t been all that noteworthy, Soda couldn’t happen but think this was the best Christmas he had ever had. The chaos leading up to it had been so new to him, but he already cherished the memories he had been able to make with Gundham. The tree hadn’t been the full, perfect one from his dreams, but decked out in their badass gold, black, and silver ornaments and topped with sweet, tacky, little Hamster Santa, Soda knew it was definitely more memorable.

The gifts hadn’t been huge, or extravagant, or expensive like the ones he saw in movies growing up, but they had been thoughtful and full of love and even a little silly. Soda couldn’t think of anything he would have rather received.

He leaned his head back against Gundham’s shoulder, and his boyfriend kissed him without looking away from the book he was reading. Soda let out a contented sigh.

Sitting in Gundham’s arms, surrounded by their questionable decorations and thoughtful gifts, and wearing stupid matching onesies.

This was a perfect Christmas.

[soundoflaughingwind]

Qrow’s Experiences With Trauma

The thing is, the experiences we have with our early caregivers are what shapes our self-worth and ability to form attachments with others. If our parents think badly of us, or if we receive disordered or negligent care as children, it deeply negatively affects us. If a child is demeaned or harshly criticized from a young age, it damages their self-worth. Children construct protective barriers around emotional wounds, and these barriers also work to prevent new attachments, in order to not risk vulnerability.

It’s pretty obvious that Qrow has had his Semblance active from a young age, and that it’s forcibly colored all of his relationships, whether people know about it or not. We know that Qrow has been blamed for bad luck around him ever since his Semblance was unlocked. He was likely forced to keep his distance from the other bandits because of that, and I put forward that this is where his habit of physically distancing himself from others comes from, in order to not ‘infect’ others with his bad luck. He couldn’t please those around him, regardless of his actions, and this pushed him into emotional withdrawal as well as physical.

Qrow’s addiction to alcohol is another symptom of his trauma. Severe childhood trauma is related to an increase in the chances of drug dependency (e.g., alcohol), and alcohol is also connected to and results in social and emotional isolation from friends and family. All of which are things Qrow shows signs of in RWBY.

Qrow probably turned to alcohol young, either as an emotional crutch to numb the hurt of the rejection by other members of his tribe, because it dulled the effects of his Semblance, or because alcoholism was normalized by the bandits. (As a side note, I also theorize that drinking is normalized in parts of Remnant as a way to numb negative emotions and keep from attracting Grimm. Whether this works or not is a matter for debate.) In any case his alcoholism was encouraged/not discouraged by the bandits.

His profession as a spy is another way Qrow maintains both physical and emotional distance. He leaves his family for long periods of time, assuring himself it’s for the best, when what he’s really doing is just enforcing the walls protecting his emotional wounds.

I doubt that Qrow ever had much of a support system outside of his team, and it’s pretty clear that Raven was never really emotionally available. When Summer died, Qrow lost about half his emotional support, and Tai went into a depression, which negated his ability to do the same. Doubtlessly, that whole tragedy and its consequences only exacerbated Qrow’s trauma regarding emotional intimacy.

It’s not that he doesn’t want attachment, it’s clear he wants it desperately, but that he’s terrified to seek it out. So he draws away and self-sabotages with alcohol, as if to prove to himself that he really is a fuckup and then uses his drinking as an additional reason to push people away and keep his walls up. Because he’s terrified of what will happen if he lets those walls down.

The attachment styles people develop in childhood stay with them our entire lives, unless they go through some form of therapy and/or trauma recovery. People with disrupted attachments in childhood are often afraid of genuine closeness. Many prefer detachment to connection because they’re afraid dependency and closeness will only lead to rejection. Because of the circumstances surrounding his Semblance and his childhood, Qrow believes himself unworthy of love and support.

Ozpin acted as someone Qrow trusted, who granted him purpose without getting so emotionally close that Qrow felt the need to automatically drive him away. When Ozpin’s backstory and secrets were revealed, it violated the trust that had been built and caused Qrow to lash out. Qrow took it as a severe emotional betrayal and retreated into his primary coping mechanisms: self-isolation and alcohol. He numbed himself to the betrayal and in doing so numbed himself to everything else going on around him.

In order to change, have to be mature enough to reflect accurately on your behavior and say, “I want to change things.” You have to have to actively choose to seek and accept help. Any interventions people attempted to previously hold for Qrow failed because he was unwilling to allow people past his protective walls, and refused to accept their offers of help.

The Apathy finally helped Qrow realize how deeply fucked up things were. He was supposed to be the adult, supposed to be able to keep the others safe. But when he was most needed, he was sitting in a cellar getting stone drunk. If not for Maria and for Ruby’s Silver Eyes, everyone would have ended up dead, and that hit Qrow really hard.

When Ruby finally confronted him while they were in Argus was what finally pushed him into taking up sobriety, I think. Ruby has been shown to idolize Qrow: she bases her style on his, he taught her how to use a scythe, she obviously adores her uncle. And throughout this season she’s been getting more and more upset at his drunkenness. Her confrontation was the last straw on the camel’s back, what forced him to finally accept exactly how badly his actions were affecting her and the others. Change always has to be a choice. And Qrow finally decided to make that choice.

Dealing with attachment trauma requires consistent, sensitive, and loving behavior from those around you, which Qrow does get, but he also really needed that hard push to knock him out of the rut he’d dug himself into through the years. Of course, Qrow needs to resolve old grief and work out issues on both an emotional and intellectual level if he wants to continue to heal. Deep-seated and longstanding trauma doesn’t just go away, but Qrow is definitely working on pushing himself to be better.

As of V7, I wouldn’t say that Qrow is recovered completely. Trauma doesn’t just disappear, or addiction, or coping mechanism you’ve used your entire life. But Brothers, he’s trying.

Of course, Qrow’s life just can’t be smooth sailing. Clover’s death and Ironwood’s betrayal were basically slaps in the face for him. I think regardless of how you view Qrow’s relationship with Clover, it’s clear that he was hopeful that here was someone his Semblance wouldn’t hurt, and that was shattered with Clover’s death. Qrow also genuinely trusted General Ironwood; he was wary but ultimately trusting, and was insistent that he needed to talk with Ironwood, was convinced that things could be worked out. Ironwood shooting Oscar, though, is unforgivable, and his plan to sacrifice Mantle for the potential safety of Atlas is horrifically calculated and fatally short-sighted.

My worry is that despite his resolution, Qrow will return to his previous behavior. If not going back to drinking, then isolating himself emotionally. In fact, judging by how he acts after Clover is killed, it’s very likely.

[isthisthingeven0n]

my number neighbour : part two

brief summary: after a few months of talking back and forth, it’s finally time to meet one another in person. and what a better time to meet than on new years eve in new york city?

word count:  2.4k requested: yesss by so many people! i’m so glad to continue this story :) warnings: literally none. i just love this so much

* masterlistin’ / masterlistin’ 2.0

(everything on my blog is my own writing. if it is shared on another page or website know it isn’t me. all rights reserved. - i have to start doing this as I had some shit on my other blog with plagiarism)

P A R T  O N E 

when this goes live i’ll be out at a party with friends so I hope you all have a wonderful new years celebrations whatever you may be doing! and thank you for such a memorable year. none of this would’ve been possible without you guys supporting and here’s to 2020 - maybe Ilya will finally notice me lmao. Love you all, stay safe. x 

“Okay, so who is down for Miami?” David asks as he draws a line down the whiteboard, making a note of potential locations for everyone to go for New Year's Eve. 

Looking around, David makes a note of those holding their hands up. “And those for LA?” Jason speaks up, and David copies down those names again with a small sigh. 

“What about Hawaii?” Corinna suggests and a few voices cheer in agreement. “Or Vegas? New York?” Her voice pauses as she raises an eyebrow to David who clears his throat, making a small note at the bottom of the board for these new potential locations. 

“Yeah, those sound good.” David mutters to himself, unable to shift his eyes from New York and it does not go unnoticed by the others.

“I think New York sounds like a good option.” Jeff states, smirking as he glances to Jason who gives him a knowing nod. “I heard there’s someone there too that would like to meet you in person.” He adds, and David smiles to himself as he continues to face the whiteboard. 

Eventually, David turns around with a smaller smile. “Yeah, she, Y/n is wondering what my plans are.” David shrugs his shoulder, trying to play it off like it’s no big deal when internally, his systems starting shutting down when you asked. 

“How long ago did she ask you this?” Jason questions, sitting upright as David focuses on his feet.

“About three hours ago.” David mumbles, unaware of the shared looks of excitement and adoration for his newfound interest in his number neighbour. 

“Well,” Jason rises to his feet, standing beside David in front of the whiteboard. “we can’t disappoint Y/n, so those interested in going to New York?” Jason speaks up, and David lifts his eyes to see the majority of hands raised. 

Jason pats David on the shoulder, trying to distract David from overthinking the fact he’ll be able to meet you at last. “New York it is.” David says with a smile as he turns around, rubbing off all the other potential locations and circles New York. 

*

Rushing around your apartment, you kept swearing under your breath. 

“What’s got you all flustered?” Nick questions as he leans against your doorframe, seeing your room having been turned upside down. 

You remove your head from the dark depths of your wardrobe as you let out a long sigh. “I’m looking for this one dress. It’s that ivy lacy one, you know?” 

Nick chuckles to himself, nodding. “Your slutty but not slutty dress?” He rephrases, watching as you rest your hands on your hips. “But super flattering and makes your ass look great dress?” He forces a smile, seeing you roll your eyes. 

“That’d be the one.” You respond before returning to your wardrobe. “I just can’t find it!” You groan and Nick appears by your side. 

“Probably because you lent it to your best friend.” He trails off as realisation hits you. 

“FUCK!” You yell, collapsing down into the wardrobe in defeat. “Of course she had to go and move to Liverpool.” You shake your head, burying your fingers into your hair. 

“Why’d you want the dress so bad anyway?” Nick helps you sit upright, removing you from the dangerous void your wardrobe is. You glance up at him, and watch as it clicks into place in his brain. “No,” He raises an eyebrow and your prolonged silence answers for him. “he, he’s coming to New York?!” He yells and you laugh happily.

“I think so?” You say with a hint of confusion in your tone. “Well, I invited him and his friends,”

“You invited the vlog squad?!” He yells once again, gripping your shoulders tightly. “If you don’t get me a chance with Corinna or Zane I’ll move out.” 

You roll your eyes. “You have such a varied taste, Nick.” You joke, ignoring his rambles of how perfect he’d be for any of his friends. “But, he didn’t respond about it yet.” You add, and Nick’s shoulders drop in disappointment. 

“He’s missing out if he doesn’t come. New Year’s at ours beats any shitty attempt LA has to offer.” He speaks proudly, ignoring the look you give him.

“Nick, you passed out two minutes after midnight and barely remember any of the party.” You remind him, chuckling as he glares over jokingly. 

“Well, I’d remember more if David came so I could finally meet the guy who has you digging up a dress you’ve not worn in two years.” He states and you can’t argue back, knowing it’s true. 

You didn’t intend for this to happen, but when you first FaceTimed him, he seemed like a genuinely sweet person. He was kinda shy which you liked, but as your conversation went on the more grounded you both felt talking to one another. 

Since the first FaceTime you two had, it became almost daily. Eventually, he told you more about his line of work and it clicked where you knew his voice from. You introduced David to Nick, and Nick screamed down the phone which made you laugh hysterically. Since then, Nick has been a cocktail of love, support and amazement that your number neighbour is David Dobrik. 

The sound of your phone pinging made your ears perk up as you resurfaced from old jumpers and darted for your phone. 

You manage to narrowly beat Nick, and you squeal as you read David’s message. 

“Well?” Nick asks eagerly as you type a response before turning back to face your flatmate. 

“We’ve got just over a week to find me a new dress.” You say with a smile as you laugh, feeling Nick lift you off the ground as he hugs you tightly. 

*

Fidgeting, you’re barely able to stand still as guests start arriving. You agreed to take a few shots with Nick to help your nerves, but your body seems immune to anything besides growing anxieties. 

“Hey, he’ll be here soon.” Nick smiles softly to you and you nod in response, knowing if David would cancel, he’d have the decency to message you first.

A loud knock starts on the front door, and you remain blissfully ignorant as you stand with your back turned, talking to some old friends. 

“I gotta admit, I blacked out last year.” One friend tells you, causing you to laugh remembering the whole ordeal. 

Sipping your drink, you shake your head. “You and Nick were clearly shot buddies last year then.” You say, watching as she retells the events she can remember, hoping to not repeat them tonight.

As your friend reminisces on 2018 New Years Eve, Nick opens the front door to see David stood with a bright smile and camera in hand. 

“Holy fuck.” Nick mutters as David chuckles. 

“Hey, Nick.” David speaks up and Nick stutters over his own breath. “I brought some friends with me. This is Zane, Carly, Corinna, Matt and Jeff.” 

Everyone waves politely as Nick barely manages to raise his hand to wave back. “It’s good to meet you guys.” Nick manages to force his words out, oblivious to David’s eyes darting around the room in search of you.

“Can we come in?” Corinna speaks up, smiling to Nick who chuckles under his breath before moving aside. 

Across the room, your friend's attention is immediately diverted. “Hold on,” She holds your arm, staring straight past you. “you never mentioned him bringing hot friends.” She says with a humourous scoff as you remain cemented on the spot, too afraid to turn around. 

“She’s just over there,” Nick moves to stand by David, able to fully compose himself. “you can’t miss her, she’s a stunner in that red dress.” Nick comments with a slight wink as David smiles. 

“Thanks, Nick.” David says before Nick walks off in search of Corinna to try and swoon. 

Taking a deep breath, David pushes back all the nerves that have built up over the past week. Now is his chance, he flew to come see you, just you. After all this time this is the moment he’s been waiting for since you replied to that first dumb message. Yet, it feels fake, but for once it isn’t a prank. 

Walking toward you, David watches as you begin to turn around.

Mentally, you were psyching yourself up for the moment, not sure what to expect. 

Neither of you was aware of the eyes pausing, having heard the stories about you two - the number neighbours whose friendship has the potential to blossom. You were the Twitter thread’s idea of fate working its magic. 

Facing him, you opened your mouth to speak, but David mirrored your exact actions. “I, erm, hi.” You manage to force the words out, glancing out of the corner of your eye to see Nick facepalm.

David chuckles softly, realising you’re even cuter in person. “Hi, Y/n.” He says softly before bringing you into a hug. 

Being in his arms, you began to relax your body from the tension you were holding in. It was comfortable, it felt right being close to him after almost two months of speaking through a screen. 

“Oh my god if they don’t end up together I’m going to scream.” Carly comments as the others nod in agreement as you two walk-off elsewhere in the apartment, engaged in conversation.

Whilst talking to one another, hours passed by like minutes. You felt like you had known him your entire life, and the feeling was evidently mutual. 

“I can’t believe you’re actually here.” You repeat for the tenth time, and despite your nerves having died down, there is still a small part of your system that is in a permanent state of shock.

His hand slipping down toward yours, David smiles to himself as you intertwine your fingers with his. “I’m glad you invited me. Otherwise, I’d most likely be in some bar in Vegas.” He comments, hearing you scoff lightly.

“How painful that would’ve been for you, Dave.” You joke, hearing him laugh in response. 

“So painful. Having to accept free drinks and see Zane drunk,” David sighs heavily. “it’s a hard life.” He comments with a shrug of his shoulder before returning his attention back to you. “But I’m really glad to be here, really.” He squeezes your hand lightly, watching as a smile ghosts your lips playfully.

“I’m glad you came. I mean, I knew we’d meet eventually but, but I’m glad you came for New Years.” You lean against the kitchen counter, looking out from your windows at the hectic citizens thriving below. 

David focuses on the features he couldn’t see crisply on video or through photos. He couldn’t see the small dimples or freckles dotted across your face. The iPhone camera never did you the full justice, you’re more beautiful in person than he could’ve anticipated. 

“Well, if it means one less single for 2020, I’m all for it.” He comments but as he listens to the words leaving his lips, your hand drops from his. “Wait, I, I meant,” He rambles, but you shake your head.

“I didn’t wanna assume,�� You start, both of you stuttering and struggling to find the right words.

“Oh god,” Corinna cringes, looking up to Nick who winces at the sight. “they’re hopeless.” 

Nick rests his hand on Corinna’s shoulder for a second, a lightbulb moment occurring. “I’ve got an idea.” He says with a smile. “With Y/n, actions speak louder than words.” He states, glancing to his phone to see the time. “The countdown will start any minute.” 

Moving through everyone at the party, Nick walks toward the pair of you. “Oh, hey Nick.” You welcome the interruption, breaking the awkward silence between you and David. 

“Hey Y/n, David.” He says with a smile. “Okay, everybody!” Nick claps, offering his hand to you to join him on the kitchen counter. 

As you stand beside him, David moves back into the crowd, finding Jeff who looks at him with excitement, only to see it quickly fade. “What happened, dude?” Jeff questions, seeing David looking like a lost puppy.

“I think I fucked it up.” David states, sighing heavily. 

“I’m sure you didn’t, David.” Jeff says, patting his back lightly. “I mean, look at her, she can barely take her eyes off of you.” Jeff mutters, motioning up to you as you desperately try to not stare at him. 

“So, it’s nearly midnight so everyone pair up!” Nick cheers and everyone rummages through the crowd whilst David nears you, helping you down. 

His hands rest on your waist. “I, have you got a kiss at midnight?” David questions, slowly feeling his sense of confidence return around you as you smile to him. 

“Is this your way of asking me, Dobrik?” You ask in return. 

“If you say yes, that is.” He retorts playfully, watching as you nod. 

“I’d love to.” You tell him before moving into the crowd as the countdown begins. 

One minute left of 2019, of the decade. 

“Do you feel like it’s been worth it?” David turns to face you, wanting to drown out everyone else and focus just on you. “Do, do you regret answering my dumb message when I sent it?” 

You scrunch your eyebrows together. “Of course not.” You say as if it were obvious. “You, you coming into my life happened at an almost perfect time. I, I secretly look forward to our calls, knowing you will find a way to make me laugh at something stupid.” You ramble, feeling your heart hammering against your chest.

“After tonight, would you like to go on a date with me?” He questions, but the one thing he’s been wanting to ask you all night is drowned out by the countdown.

“THREE, TWO ONE.” 

As everyone reaches one, you rest your hands on David’s cheeks, pulling him closer into you. 

The sound of cheers and confetti surrounds you as David deepens the kiss, his arms resting on your wait pulling you closer. 

“Happy new year love birds.” Nick yells to you both as you pull away, smiling like idiots. 

“Hey, Dave?” You ask, looking up at him. “I’d love to go on a date.” You reply, before kissing him softly. “Happy new year.” 

The rest of his friends walk over, joining in the celebrations as the party continues. 

But all David can think about is how grateful he is to some dumb trend on Twitter, that he’s able to start a new year with you.