#but so I genuinely thought provoking no-clear-answer discussion

[bookwyrminspiration]

hello, it is i, culture anon

so i said that i couldn't find the post where you sort of talked about the elves being all basically white culturally despite looking for it, but later that day after sending the ask i found it *facepalm*

it's the prentice post in your pinned post or here's a link: https://www.tumblr.com/bookwyrminspiration/649904488057044992/share-le-thoughts-on-prentice

found it completely on accident after sending that ask lmfao sorry for annoying you again but here you go. here's the post that inspired that very long ask lol

Not annoying me at all! It's quite helpful to have my own words in front of me so I know better where you're coming from--and a jarring reminder of my incredibly neglected pinned post/masterlists...

Thank you for the link! And for the discussion topic :)

[queen--kenobi]

Wheel of Fortune: Prologue

Story summary: Elayna Reyne often imagines herself being someone and making a name for herself but only in the way young girls do. Unfortunately, when Elayna makes her way to King's Landing as one of Cerelle Lannister's ladies-in-waiting, Elayna finds dreams come with a price. Catching the attention of Prince Aemond may make her someone. But is it the person she wants to be?

Pairings: Aemond Targaryen x OFC (Elayna Reyne), Cerelle Lannister x OFC (Elayna Reyne), OC (Tymon Lannister) x OFC (Elayna Reyne)

Chapter summary: News finds its way to Elayna. Some of it is good but most of it is bad. Elayna learns when it rains, it pours.

Chapter warnings: implied NSFT (wlw action, BDSM themes, D/s dynamics), discussions of domestic violence, some suicidal ideation, and sexual harassment. Also Tymon. Yeah, a lot for a prologue I know.

Author's note: Hi hello it's finally here! I know it's taken 5ever and a day, but it's here! I'm so excited to introduce everyone to Elayna in canon and Tymon as well. I want to thank @writingbylee for being my cheerleader and helping me since day one with Elayna you have no idea how much that means to me. I also want to thank @baba-fett and @emilykaldwen for being willing to listen to me try and figure all this out

Waves crash against the unyielding cliffside.

Elayna sighs. She looks down to the waters below. Jagged rocks stick up from the ocean, the edges sharp and dangerous despite the weathering. Elayna tilts her head. In the dying light, the areas where the rocks cluster almost look like teeth to her, the giant gaping maw of an unknown beast.

What would it be like to die upon those rocks?

What would it be like to kill someone upon the rocks? How long would someone suffer in the blistering sun and salty air? Would they die upon impact, or would it break their back and render them immobile, unable to stop the slow creeping of the Stranger?

She bites the inside of her lip. The pain stops the morbid thoughts, she finds. More and more as of late, her brain keeps coming back to them. They circle her brain like vultures awaiting the dying. Elayna closes her eyes and inhales slowly. Some days, she cannot tell if she wishes to kill or be killed. She thinks it is the latter of the two. She has no true wish to die, only to escape her suffering. Her life has become a prison she cannot escape from no matter how much she tries.

Then again. Is it truly a prison when she has willingly given her captor the keys? When the prison is of her own making?

She exhales. She pauses and rubs her face. 

If only she could talk to Cerelle. If only she could make her see...

“Elayna!”

The familiar voice makes Elayna's hairs stand on end. Elayna wants to ignore him. Maybe he'll go away if she pretends he isn't there. Of course, it has never stopped him before, so why would it now? Slowly, Elayna lifts her head.

Tymon walks towards her. He seems to be in a good mood. A smile graces his features. The wind blows his hair gently. Elayna looks at his eyes. His eyes turn first when he's angry; he can keep the smile up and make it seem genuine even when his eyes make it clear he wants nothing more than to commit an act of unspeakable violence just by looking him in the eye. His jaw betrays him next. 

His smile is always the last thing to go. 

“Tymon.” Elayna tries her best to answer his smile. She tries to force it to reach her eyes. It feels too tight, too fake. A surge of panic overtakes her. What if he sees it's fake? Will he ignore it? Will he pretend to not see it until he can use her lack of enthusiasm against her? What if it provokes his ire? She blinks. Her eyes must show her fear, she can't have that. 

Tymon laughs. When Elayna opens her eyes, she sees him holding his hands up. 

“Woah.” He sounds as if he is calming down a spooked horse, not a human being. She can hear the clear amusement in his tone. Elayna bites down on the inside of her cheek. She cannot sneer at him; no one else is around, and she is too close to the edge of the parapet. Despite her early thoughts, Elayna has no desire to be pushed off the castle.

“I did not mean to startle you. My sincerest apologies.”

“Think nothing of it. I was just under the impression I was alone.”

“One might begin to think you want to be alone.” Tymon stops right beside her. The sleeve of his doublet almost brushes against the sleeve of her dress. Elayna's skin crawls. “I noticed you left particularly early.”

“I needed some fresh air is all.” Elayna looks out towards the sea. “I spoke with Jeyne Marbrand. The incense they use in their Sept must be quite... strong.”

Elayna sniffs delicately as if to prove her point. Tymon lets out a small chuckle. He places his forearms on the low wall. 

“Yes, I have noticed that as well.” Tymon turns his head to the side. His green eyes inspect her. “Where is Cerelle? I thought if I found you, I might find her.”

Elayna swallows.

“Cerelle is talking with one of the Tarbeck daughters, I believe.” Gods above, she hates she knows this. “There's talk of one of them being brought in as one of Tyshara's ladies.”

Tymon hums. He looks back out to the ocean once more. He inches his forearm towards her. Elayna tries to subtly move her arm away. She reaches up and adjusts her necklace before placing her arm down. 

“Mother spoke to me today.” 

“Oh?” Elayna arches an eyebrow. “What did the two of you speak about?”

“Many things.” Tymon fidgets with one of the many rings on his fingers. “Mostly of the future.”

Elayna nods. Within a fortnight, Cerelle and Tymon would be celebrating their eight and tenth name day. The feast tonight kicks off the events to follow. The future looms large over everything now; all the politics and planning finally moving into action. A bitter, acrid taste surges into Elayna’s mouth. For all that Johanna cares about Cerelle, she will also use her, as is the way. A son ensures the line while a daughter ensures treaties and potential comfort in old age. 

She knows what will most likely become of Cerelle, but she has no idea what awaits her. For years, she and Cerelle would joke about having to find two brothers to marry. Naturally, Cerelle would marry the eldest and Elayna the younger. Elayna presses her lips together. She gazes at the far away horizon, feeling as if she herself is as much of a distance away from her own body as the horizon. Those plans... Well. They were no more.

She hears shifting, the rustle of clothes against the stone wall. Elayna forces herself back into her body. She turns her head. Tymon now stands with his back to the wall, facing away from the sea and into the courtyard. He crosses his arms.

“The plan is for you to accompany Cerelle to King's Landing when we leave.” 

“I'm aware.” Elayna tries to keep her tone pleasant. “I'm looking forward to it.”

Tymon turns his head to look at her. He evaluates her for a long moment. 

“Did you hear that from my mother or sister?”

“Cerelle told me. Why?”

Tymon smirks. “Then you don't know the good news yet.”

“Good news?” Elayna huffs a laugh. “Let me guess. Your father found an uninhabited island and named it after Cerelle?”

“Don't be ridiculous.”

“You're right, that is ridiculous. He named it after Tyshara.”

Tymon rolls his eyes. “I am the first born son.”

“Yes, but I've been under the impression islands are she's. On account of them being pretty to look at.” Elayna sees a brief flash of irritation on Tymon's face. “So the good news is not an island.”

“No, it isn't an island. That would be excellent news, but this is better.”

“Better than an island? Hmm. Dalton Greyjoy dying. Ideally a slow and incredibly painful death.”

“Alas. One can only wish.”

“Cerelle is betrothed to a Hightower? Is that it?”

Tymon scoffs. Elayna bites the inside of her lip to keep from giggling. As dangerous as it can be, she does enjoy annoying Tymon. He thinks himself to be so smart, to the point he corrects anyone he deems lower than himself. Yet, somehow, he falls into every single conversational trap she creates. It's almost as if he can't help it; he has to try to make someone else look like an idiot, even at the expense of making a fool of himself. 

The apple never falls far from the tree.

“No. It is not Cerelle marrying a Hightower.” Tymon sniffs almost delicately. Annoyance laces every word. Elayna has no doubt in her mind if she pushes more, she will push too far. Normally, she might relish in the chance to pick a fight. Instead, she decides to play nice. “I'm sure mother has higher ambitions for her.”

“What is the good news, then?”

Tymon looks at Elayna. His gaze feels intense. Elayna looks back at him. 

“Once Cerelle is settled and has found a husband, mother suggested you might come back. With us.”

Elayna's heart doesn't just sink; it plummets. It drops from her chest to her stomach the same way a boulder falls from a cliff. 

“I'm... I'm afraid I don't follow.”

“Don't play dumb with me, Elayna.” Tymon smiles, and for the first time, his smile itself scares her. “Isn't this what you wanted? I would think so, given all the times you have tormented and teased me. Finally, Mother has come to her senses about everything as well.”

“Tymon, I genuinely do not know what you're talking about.”

Tymon sighs. It's one of the most patronizing sounds Elayna has heard. It makes her skin crawl and jaw tighten.

“Mother wants to ensure you and Cerelle have ample time together before Cerelle is married. Once Cerelle is settled, our betrothal will be made official and announced.”

Elayna instantly regrets not jumping off the castle and onto the rocks below. A sour, bitter taste floods her mouth. She stares at him. 

“We're...?”

“To be married. Do keep up, Elayna. I cannot have a wife who is slow on the upkeep.”

Elayna's years of practice prevent her from snarling at him. Her upper lip still twitches. Her jaw clenches. She glares daggers at him. 

“I'm not slow!” She pauses. Tymon gives her a look as if he might hit her should she say more. “I am merely... surprised. I wouldn't have thought I would have been a contender.”

“I thought my fondness for you was evident.” Tymon tilts his head. He almost seems genuinely confused as to why Elayna doesn't understand. “ ‘Tis a good match.”

“Surely there are better matches. One of the Lefford's daughters per-”

Elayna's next words are muffled. Tymon surges forward and kisses her. The beginnings of his beard feel rough and unpleasant against her skin, as do his lips. He takes advantage of her parted lips to try and slip his tongue into her mouth. It feels wet and gross against hers, almost slimy. An unpleasant shiver runs up her spine. Elayna clamps her teeth down on his tongue. She means it as a warning bite.

It works.

Tymon pulls away, fury blazing in his eyes. His smile drops.

“Tymon. I don't... this isn't appropriate!” Elayna hisses. “Nothing has even been announced or made official, you cannot just kiss me like that.”

“I don't care.”

“Well I do. Your reputation may not be at stake but mine is.”

Tymon stares at her, his expression unreadable. Elayna's chest heaves. 

“Why would your reputation be ruined? Everyone knows you are mine and mine alone.” He reaches forward and attempts to touch her face. Elayna jerks backwards and away from him. 

“Tymon.” 

Both Elayna and Tymon turn towards the sound of the voice. Tymon scowls. Cerelle stands on the parapet as well. She looks radiant, the setting sun lighting her in beautiful hues. Cerelle has her father's hair and eyes but everything else about her comes from her mother, down to the cold expression she wears.

“Cerelle.” Tymon greets. His tone matches the coolness of Cerelle's face. “I was wondering where you were.”

“So you thought to seek Elayna out?” She steps forward. Tymon’s upper lip twitches, but he manages to wrangle it under control at the last second. Elayna takes the welcome distraction and begins to put some distance between herself and Tymon.

“Yes, well. The two of you are close.”

He makes it sound almost disgusting. Elayna glares at him. Still, she doesn't say anything, not wishing to draw his attention to her. Cerelle tilts her head. A perfectly curled ringlet of blonde hair falls into her face. 

“Elayna is not my keeper.” She sounds as if she wants to laugh.

“No, but you are Elayna's.” 

Cerelle raises an eyebrow. “Speak plainly. If you have an issue with my relationship with my ladies-in-waiting, say so and be done with it."

Tymon lifts both his hands in the air. He chuckles softly, a sly smirk making its way onto his face. 

“I meant no offense, dearest sister.” He lowers his hands. 

“I take offense to your actions, not your words.” Cerelle steps forward. Her gait remains surprisingly steady. Elayna knows, though. She sees the barely repressed anger and tense jaw, the way Cerelle clenches both her hands into fists for the briefest of seconds before clasping her hands in front of her, the flare of Cerelle's nostrils as she nearly stalks towards her brother. 

“My actions?”

“Yes. Your actions. Mother has made it explicitly clear you are not to be alone with Elayna. Yet you openly defy her and seek out Elayna when I am busy.”

Tymon swallows. Elayna sees his Adam's apple bob. She takes advantage of his surprise and almost scurries over to Cerelle. Cerelle seemingly doesn't react to her presence.

Tymon stares at his sister for a long moment. Cerelle stares evenly back at him, her steely gaze not dissimilar to Johanna’s. Tymon must make some sort of expression because after a long minute, Cerelle's brow furrows. She raises one eyebrow. The left side of her mouth lifts slightly, not quite into a sneer but certainly a scoff. Annoyance rolls off of Tymon. His hands clench into fists for a second before he thinks better of it.

“Very well.” Tymon tries to sound pleasant, as if he's truly deferring to his sister. The blazing storm in his eyes says otherwise. He bows his head. “I shall do as instructed. Do try to not hog all of my future wife's time.”

He turns on his heel and heads towards the other set of stairs. Elayna watches him from her place behind Cerelle. She waits until he disappears from sight to speak.

“Thank you.” Elayna murmurs. She tries to effuse her gratitude into every word. Cerelle tries to keep her steady gaze. Despite her efforts, her expression softens, the hard edges of her jaw easing and forehead relaxing. 

“I cannot rescue you all the time.”

“I know. I don't expect you too.”

Elayna steps forward. Cerelle does as well. 

“Mother wants to see us as well. After she talks to Tymon.”

Cerelle stands torn. Elayna sees it clear as day. Cerelle refuses to close the distance, but with each passing moment, her posture relaxes some. 

Elayna moves first. She steps closer to Cerelle, stopping two paces away. 

“I'm still mad at you.” Cerelle looks away as she speaks.

“I know. I made a mess of things.”

“I'm not going to forgive you easily.”

Elayna steps closer. She could reach out and touch Cerelle if she wants to but opts not to do so.

“How would you like me to apologize?” Elayna looks around for a second. The two of them are alone. “I've been told I have a silvertongue when it comes to apologies.”

Cerelle's stern exterior fully breaks. She blushes. Red rises from her neck to her cheeks.

“Elayna!” She hisses. “Not here.”

“Oh, I wouldn't dream of doing that here.”

Cerelle finally closes the distance between them. She reaches out and loops her arm through Elayna's. 

“We should get back to the feast.” Cerelle lightly traces a finger down Elayna's forearm. “If we don't, they'll come looking.”

“Whatever my Lady desires.”

The look on Cerelle's face sends a pleasant tingle along Elayna's spine. Cerelle hums. Elayna bites the inside of her cheek to keep from smiling victorious. Cerelle's expression no doubt means a delightful night lies ahead of them, one Elayna imagines many women only dream of happening to them. Her own eight and ten name day is still several moons away yet many ladies have taken to giving her womanly advice. She cannot bite or scratch for too much passion may scare her husband, and it is unseemly to mark him with her nails and teeth. He may mark her as he wishes, though. His pleasure must occur; some women say she can experience it while others say she must not. Do not get on top for he will get sick since to do so is an abomination and sin. He must never look at her nether region except for when he slides into her.

All the rules make her want to laugh. While she cannot say she has experience with men beyond a kiss, she doubts the rules. If they are true, men have weak constitutions.

Cerelle never complains about her being on top or whose pleasure comes before the others. Cerelle never cares if Elayna’s mouth finds its way to Cerelle's lips or clit. Truth be told, she seems to enjoy the act quite a lot. Cerelle does prefer Elayna not mark her; Elayna has no qualms about being marked so long as it isn't visible. 

Despite her gender, Elayna finds herself performing more husbandly duties than most men. The only rule existing between them is they must not break their maidenheads. It is the only thing their husbands may have before them. 

Elayna's greed knows no bounds; everything a husband could take is hers except for that one thing. The same goes for Cerelle. She owns everything except Elayna's maidenhead. Elayna can only dream of that happening.

“Perhaps I will need you tonight. I would like to spend time with my boon companion.”

“I am always at your service.”

They begin to walk towards the stairs. Cerelle's grip keeps Elayna close, as if she thinks Elayna would go far. Elayna would never. If she could, Elayna would chain herself to Cerelle. She would put a collar around her neck like a hound and hand Cerelle the lead. She wonders if it would surprise Cerelle but doubts it would; Elayna often kneels at Cerelle's feet and whines like a bitch in heat.

“Behave.” Cerelle squeezes Elayna's arm. Elayna starts. She gazes at Cerelle with wide eyes. 

 “I am!”

“Physically? Yes. Mentally?” Cerelle clicks her tongue. 

“Oh?” Elayna arches an eyebrow. “And where exactly did you learn to read minds?”

“I didn't. I just know yours well.” 

The two of them finally enter the turret. Elayna listens in case someone is coming up the stairs. She sees and hears no one. Before Cerelle can lead them down the stairs, Elayna maneuvers them towards the wall. As soon as Cerelle's back is against the stones, Elayna pounces.

Cerelle's lips slot against hers perfectly. Cerelle squeaks in surprise, which makes Elayna grin into the kiss. Cerelle quickly recovers. Elayna groans when Cerelle digs her fingers into Elayna’s hair. She avoids Elayna's intricate braids, instead opting for the thick, brown curly hair at the base of Elayna’s skull. Those strands of hair being messy can be explained away; her braids falling out of place can't be. Elayna braces herself. She places one forearm on the wall by Cerelle's head. Her other hand rests on the bodice of Cerelle's gown. She wants nothing more than to ruck up Cerelle's skirts and trace the creamy expanse of skin she knows lies under the red silk. Caution makes her stop. Fabrics wrinkle all too easily. 

Still, Elayna can only be cautious for so long. She inches her hand upward, fingers grazing the underside of Cerelle's breasts. The motion makes Cerelle stop. She digs her fingers hard into Elayna’s hair, her nails nearly digging into Elayna’s scalp. She pulls Elayna's head back. Elayna isn't sure if the sound escaping her mouth is from pleasure or pain. 

“No.” Cerelle's chest heaves. She doesn't look angry, despite her tone. “You aren't forgiven yet.”

Elayna pouts. 

“How am I to be forgiven if you won't give me a chance?”

“You have to earn forgiveness. Me giving you what you want will only reinforce your terrible behavior.” 

“You speak of me as a dog.” 

“Perhaps if you behaved, I wouldn't have to treat you like one.”

“I am not a dog.” Elayna huffs. Cerelle arches a perfect eyebrow. She lets go of Elayna’s hair.

“Oh? What are you then?”

“Is not a dog not enough?”

Cerelle snorts. Despite her derision, Elayna sees the fondness in Cerelle's expression.

“No. You are not a dog. They can be taught manners.” Cerelle hums. A devious smirk appears on her lips. “You're a kitten. You refuse to listen and learn, you act as if you're above the rules, and you believe if you want it, it is yours. However, you don't have the claws nor teeth to back your attitude up.”

Elayna stares at Cerelle, wide eyed. She opens her mouth in an attempt to respond, but no sound comes out. She feels hot, not just her face but her entire body. Her breath comes in short bursts. 

“I...”

“Yes?” Cerelle tilts her head. “You what?”

“You... you...”

“Is my kitten having trouble finding her words?” Cerelle grabs Elayna's chin and forces Elayna to look at her. “Answer me.”

“You're so... so mean.” Elayna whines. She tries to bury her face in the crook of Cerelle's neck to hide her embarrassment. Cerelle's grip on her chin prevents her from doing so. Cerelle clicks her tongue in mock sympathy, a direct contrast to the delight dancing in her blue eyes.

“Behave tonight, and I might just let you find out how mean I can really be.”

She lets go of Elayna’s chin. Her blue eyes meet Elayna’s hazel ones. Cerelle seeks reassurance, from the way she looks over Elayna to make sure what transpired is truly alright to the way she frowns when she sees the small red indentations from her nails on Elayna’s chin. Elayna smiles. She presses her forehead to Cerelle's. Both of them close their eyes. They stay still for a moment, breath falling into line with the other's.

“You promise?”

Elayna opens her eyes and grins. Cerelle's eyes fly open. She stares coolly at Elayna. Elayna tries her best not to laugh. 

“I would be careful if I were you.”

“But what if I want you to make me regret it?”

“Then you cannot complain later.”

The sound of footsteps makes both girls back away from each other. Cerelle smooths out the wrinkles in her dress with one hand while Elayna checks her hair. None of her braids appear to be loose. She tucks the small amount of hair Cerelle accidentally removed from the carefully done hairstyle and stuffs the ends as best she can into her braids and held up hair. The two look at each other. Elayna scans Cerelle and nods. Cerelle does the same for Elayna.

“Shall we join the others?” Elayna offers her arm to Cerelle.

“I think it best.”

In the whirlwind of the feast, Elayna forgets about having to speak with Johanna. She spends most of the night dancing and laughing. No one yet knows of her creeping fate; Elayna takes advantage of this fact. Truth be told, she refuses to imagine what her future looks like. Instead, she decides to enjoy the moment. 

The moment includes Elayna staying with Cerelle as the first night of festivities begin to wind down. They don't even bother to come up with an excuse if they're questioned; it's happened a million times before after a feast and will no doubt happen again. Everyone knows the two are inseparable. 

“Elayna.” Cerelle murmurs from the dark. They lay in bed together, Cerelle pressing up against Elayna from behind. One of her arms lightly rests over Elayna's hips.

“Yes?” 

“You have yet to make good on your promise and apologize to me. Properly.”

Elayna hums. She rolls over to face Cerelle. They both wait for a second.

“I suppose I can.”

*****************

“I don't want to marry Tymon.”

Elayna knows not the hour. She assumes early since the darkness seems almost oppressive. Elayna rests her head just underneath Cerelle's bare breasts. Cerelle sits mostly upright, lounging on some pillows. One of her hands rests on Elayna’s head, fingers gently intertwining into Elayna’s dark curls. 

“You must.” Cerelle gently scratches Elayna's scalp in a comforting gesture. A tinge of sadness colors Cerelle's tone, though. Elayna buries her face into Cerelle's soft curves. She takes a moment to find her words, tasting each one on her tongue. 

“He scares me, Cerelle. He scares me so much. I... I worry he means to harm me.”

Cerelle sighs. The bed creaks. Cerelle brings one hand down and places her fingers underneath Elayna's chin. She tilts Elayna's head up so she can look at her. 

“He would harm you if you were betrothed to another.” Cerelle speaks bluntly. She never minces words when it comes to important things. “I hope Mother and Father realize this. Perhaps this is their way of mitigating damage. If you don't marry, violence is inevitable. If you do marry, mayhaps it will be... limited.” 

“I doubt it.” Elayna frowns. She looks away into the darkness. Cerelle gives her that luxury. “He doesn't love me. He doesn't even like me. He just sees me as an object to own.”

“Most men see their wives like that.”

“I know that! But... I sometimes...”

“You sometimes what?” Impatience bleeds into Cerelle's tone. 

“It feels as if he sees me as little more than a broodmare for prized horses.” 

Cerelle doesn't say anything. She neither confirms nor denies Elayna's accusations. Instead, she takes a strand of Elayna’s hair between her fingers and gently plays with it. Elayna lowers her head. She shuffles up the bed some, intent on placing her head on Cerelle's chest to hear her heart beat.

“I can't save you all the time.”

“I'm not asking that of you.” Elayna huffs. “I can rescue myself if need be. I'm just... I'm frightened, Cerelle.” 

Elayna's whole body trembles. Cerelle shushes her. She places her hand back on Elayna’s head. Elayna tries to relax into Cerelle's embrace; her body refuses to obey her commands. Every part of her tenses. Cerelle sighs. The sheets shift, a whisper of silk, as Cerelle reaches down with her free hand and takes Elayna's hand in her own. 

Elayna waits for Cerelle to say something, anything. She waits for words of comfort. Cerelle stays silent for an uncomfortably long time. Eventually, Cerelle sits up some and presses a kiss to the top of Elayna’s head. 

“Go to sleep, Elayna. We can talk about these matters in the morning.”

****************

Johanna calls for them after breakfast.

Thankfully, the two of them were already decent. Three years of practice means their timing is down to an art. No one ever expresses any suspicion.

“Cerelle. Elayna.” Johanna looks between the two of them. The pair sit opposite Johanna. Elayna’s back stands ramrod straight while Cerelle almost leans back in her chair. “ ‘Tis time to begin looking at the future. The Lord Lannister and I have discussed this, and we have come up with a plan.”

Elayna and Cerelle exchange a look. Elayna raises an eyebrow to which Cerelle blinks. Johanna watches them.

“One of Princess Helaena's ladies-in-waiting injured herself badly, to the point she must retire and go back to her family. Truly a shame what happened to her. Rumors are she is now a cripple. Despite how unfortunate this is, a princess should never be without.” Johanna meets Cerelle's eyes. “I have arranged for you to be one of Princess Helaena's ladies-in-waiting. She needs someone more confident than she, and I know you will serve her faithfully. Elayna, of course, will follow as one of your ladies.”

“We're going to King's Landing?” Cerelle grins. She looks to Elayna, eyes glittering with hope. Elayna grins softly in return.

“Yes.” Johanna nods. “Even though you are one of the Princess's ladies, I do expect you to spend time with your uncle. He will be able to provide valuable instruction. Your father would have sent you earlier, but now I believe you will be able to fully grasp any advice given to you.” Johanna turns her attention to Elayna. Elayna almost wants to shrink back. “You, of course, will ensure Cerelle's comfort and safety. I also think it would behoove you to accompany her when she visits with Tyland. You may learn things as well.”

“Of course.”

“Good.” Johanna places her hands in her lap. “Cerelle. You're dismissed. I wish Elayna to sit with me a while.”

Cerelle and Elayna exchange looks. Elayna doesn't move, even as Cerelle does. 

“Mother.”

“Cerelle.”

Cerelle takes her leave then. Elayna adjusts her position in her chair. 

“Tymon spoke with me.” Elayna watches Johanna. Before she takes a sip, Johanna indicates with a gesture for Elayna to be poured a goblet.

“Did he?”

“He said you spoke to him about a betrothal. Of him and me.” Elayna tries her best not to pout or look too sullen. 

“Your father will accompany us when we go to King's Landing. Jason or I will suggest the idea then.”

Elayna frowns. She leans back in her seat. Johanna sets her goblet down. 

“Elinor. If you would leave us.”

The servant curtsies before leaving. Elayna waits to hear the soft close of the doorway to the servant's quarters. Johanna eyes Elayna. Her hands rest in her lap. 

“Do you not wish to marry Tymon?” 

“ ‘Tis not that! I'm just... I don't mean to question you, but I do not see how I am the appropriate choice.”

“Tymon will need someone who can reign him in once he is in charge. Someone practical who knows the ins and outs of this place.” Johanna takes a drink from her goblet. Elayna tries not to fidget and keep her hands still. “Even if he were not set on you, you are the best choice. Whether you recognize it or not, you are everything but a Lannister in name. ‘Tis time that changes.”

Elayna purses her lips. She bites down on her tongue to keep herself from saying the immediate thought in her mind. Truthfully, she does not want this marriage; she wants no marriage as of now. It is inevitable, she knows. Elayna is acutely aware of this fact. It doesn't ease her mind on the topic. 

Johanna stares Elayna down once more. Eventually, she places her goblet down with a sigh.

“ ‘Tis time for you to grow up.” Elayna nearly flinches at Johanna’s steely tone. “I know of you and my daughter. I have... indulged you both and kept your secret, but it cannot go on any longer. You both have your duties. I will not let our reputation be tarnished because you refuse to give up antics more suited to young girls. Indiscretions like this do not go on for several years nor do they go as far as it has. The time for that is over.” 

Elayna trembles. Fear courses through her body.

“I understand, my Lady. Forgive me.”

“I keep this quiet not for you but for Cerelle.” Johanna’s nostrils flare. “I do not agree with what the two of you have done in the slightest. I recognize the impulse, but it cannot continue.”

Elayna dips her head. She feels frozen, stuck to her chair even though she wants nothing more than to run. Johanna clearly sees it. She leans forward and places a hand on Elayna’s knee.

“If you were a man, it would be done. Cerelle deserves a loyal husband. I meant it when I said you were one of us.” Johanna’s voice softens for the briefest of moments. When she pushes back to her full height, the harshness returns. “But you are not a man. It can't continue.”

“It can't. It won't continue.” The words taste bitter. 

Johanna leans back in her seat. She picks up her goblet again. 

“Good. To prove your commitment and to show you keep your word, you have a task. You are to target Prince Aemond. Find out what he likes, what he dislikes. Learn everything you can about him. Then, you will feed this information to Cerelle. I can't ask for a betrothal outright. The future is too uncertain. I can, however, obtain it other ways. When you come back, you will be betrothed to Tymon and marry him.”

Elayna nods.

“Are we in agreement?”

“Yes.”

“Look me in the eyes when you say it.”

Elayna blinks back tears. She clears her throat and poorly suppresses a sniffle. She inhales. 

Lifting her head is the hardest thing she's ever done. 

“We are in agreement.”

Johanna smiles. It doesn't meet her eyes; it's a socially expected smile. Her lips stay too close together, and her eyes blaze.

“Excellent. You are dismissed.”

[melancholic-and-delusional]

hi i love your work!! i find so much comfort in them lately!!

can i request prompt 4. "I wish to do nothing more than to hold you close right now.” with ango or atsushi please, i’ve been stuck with exams and i need some comfort !!

thank you and i hope you are taking care <3

Thank you so much for requesting! I wish you the best of luck with your exams! I'm really sorry, but I'm not very confident in my writing for Ango, so I'm writing for Atsushi.

Atsushi fluff <3

GenderNeutral!Reader

Word Count: 0.6k

Fluff Promt: "I wish to do nothing more than to hold you close right now."

It was a rainy Friday evening, and you were inside your cozy apartment with Atsushi. As the thunder bolts stiked the ground and loud echoes filled the outside world, the both of you were soaking up in each other's comfort, completely ignorant of the stormy weather. The only thing that mattered to you right now was being together, and nothing was going to ruin that moment.

The room was warm, and the light beige color of the wallpaper accented the inviting nature of your home. It was especially nice cuddling up next to your kind boyfriend. The both of you were spread out like sacks of potatoes on the couch. He was sitting casually with his arms stretched out to the sides of the furniture, and you had positioned your head atop his lap. Laying on your back with your eyes barely open gazing toward him, you muttered a sentence to add to the conversation the two of you were having. It wasn't anything deep or thought-provoking that you were discussing, but rather a mundane topic surrounding the many details and aspects of your day.

"And then I went to get a tissue to whipe away the spilled coffee," you spoke softly.

"Did you stain your shirt?" he asked with concern. He was really interested to know even the most boring thing you had to tell him. You could have literally described how you went to the store to get bread in the most monotonous voice, and he would still look at you with a certain shine in his eye.

"Thankfully, I didn't..." A yawn interrupted your reply, and you arose from his legs, "We should probably head to bed now," you suggested and turned your back towards him.

"Whatever you say, sweetheart," he spoke as he wrapped his arms to hug you from behind. His chin rested on the crook of your shoulder, and he tilted his head to the side to make more room for himself.

You giggled, making him kiss your cheek briefly before he stood up, taking your hand into his and walking to the bedroom you shared.

Upon entering, you began getting ready for bed. You eventually got under the covers, and Atsushi wasted no time before he wrapped a loving arm around your physique, pulling you closer. As he closed his eyes and leaned toward you, you managed to hear a faint whisper exit his mouth.

"I wish to do nothing more than to hold you close right now."

A sweet, yet genuine remark. One that made your heart flutter and your stomach turn with excitement.

"I love you," you exclamined. The answer you received was a tighter hug and a light kiss on the neck. A soft chuckle was heard before Atsushi finally returned the words to you. From the way he said them, it was clear that he meant them with his whole heart, body, and soul.

A faint blush seemed to appear on your cheeks, and you let your eyelids fall. Darkness engulfed your sight, and your other senses strengthened. You felt a heartbeat, but soon came upon the conclusion that it was not yours, but your partner's. The faint sound of his light breathing and the hot air hitting the back of your neck didn't go unnoticed by you as well. A light smile crept upon your resting features.

The surroundings were peaceful and quiet as you fell into a deep slumber in his embrace. He held you close, and he himself was dozing off. It was one of the sweetest and most tender moments you shared, given that your schedules and occupations were rather demanding. Still, it was a heartwarming time that you got to spend with him, which was always a win in your book.

[copperbadge]

Hey Sam! I've read and chuckled over your Anish Kapoor - Stuart Semple posts. Never really cared much for his art. But Anish was recently interviewed by a mainstream Indian mag which wanted to censor his answer and so in response he pulled the interview and published it on The Wire. He calls out the current fascist right wing Indian govt in clear, unsparing terms which is more than most Indian artists are doing. Its a political stance worthy of respect and I thought you'd like to know about it!

(Had some spare time and Adderall to burn off, Anon, so just for you :D)

It is a really fascinating interview overall -- it can be read in full here. I don't know enough about Indian culture or the current government to know if some of what he's saying is...politically difficult; for example I'm real wary of the phrase "Hindu Taliban" but truthfully I don't have any kind of context so I don't know how to handle that. I do think that his discussion of his work is quite insightful, especially as someone who has complex feelings about his infamous Chicago landmark, the Bean. (India Today has responded basically calling him a blowhard and Kapoor has replied that he has the receipts, both here.)

Kapoor has a long history of being a provocateur, so while the truth is probably closer to his account I would guess there's a bit of middle ground as well. I do like that generally his provocations are punching up, not down, because often in the art world "provoking a response" is either an artist's last-ditch defense against being a dickhead, or it's motivated directly by violent and cruel impulses to begin with. I think Kapoor genuinely wants to encourage discussion that focuses on inequity and the human condition.

As for the Kapoor-Semple ongoing brouhaha, I stand firm in my conviction that it is epic performance art, and I eagerly await the day I am vindicated. :D

(Also a reminder that generally my sole response to ever seeing a discussion of either one of them is to simply post an image of artwork by a woman; not to say I considered that in this case since it was super interesting, but if I get tagged in posts about them or if I see them cross my dash, I generally think "Imagine all the artists we could be talking about if not for these two.")

(To conclude: I'd be interested in a more nuanced commentary on the political aspect if anyone has one; also remember if you wish to respond to this please do so in comments or reblogs!)

[no-reply95]

Jealous Guys

Something I’ve been thinking about for a while now is the different ways jealousy manifested for John and Paul over the course of their friendship.

I’m going to look at John and Paul in turn and have a look at some of the key ways jealousy appeared, before, during and after the Beatles period. This will be a looooong post so if you want to go on deep dive keep reading below.

John

Jealousy was something that John acknowledged as a big part of his personality, as far as I’m aware, he only acknowledged his jealousy publicly in terms of his relationship with Yoko but I believe jealousy was a feature of all of John’s major relationships. John’s first real partnership was with Pete Shotton, his childhood best friend, and Pete has outlined how John’s jealousy and possessiveness was a feature in their friendship with them falling out when Pete first started showing interest in girls and with John acting out when Pete started to spend more time with other friends, instead of him, here Pete recounts John’s reflection on this period of their friendship:

“Years later John confessed to having felt acutely jealous throughout that interlude: “I was scared shitless I’d lost you after our fight in science class, when you starting playing with David Jones. I really thought I’d gone too far with you that time.“

Pete Shotton, John Lennon: In My Life , 1983

Pete’s recollections establish a pattern in John’s life of acting out due to a fear of abandonment and losing those who are closest to him so it’s not surprising that once John had formed a strong bond with Paul that would stir similar fears in him. 

Below I’ve categorised the groups of people that were the focus of John’s jealousy and have picked one person from each group as an example:

Family - Jim McCartney

Paul’s family was and continues to be a big part of his life. From the outset of their friendship, John was made aware of how important Jim was to Paul and vice versa. John and Paul had to skip school to hang out together because Jim wouldn’t have John in their house initially and John confessed his resentment of Jim’s influence over Paul’s life. It appears that after some time John grew tired of having to contend with Jim for the position of the most important person in Paul’s life, and this culminated in John giving Paul a pseudo ultimatum as John discussed in 1971:

“But Paul would always give in to his dad. His dad told him to get a job, he fucking dropped the group and started working on the fucking lorries, saying, "I need a steady career." We couldn't believe it… “So I told him on the phone, "Either come or you're out." So he had to make a decision between me and his dad then, and in the end he chose me”

St. Regis Hotel interview, Sept. 5, 1971

Friends - Mal Evans

Throughout the active years of the band it was typical of them to refer to each other as their best friends and, given the lives they led, I think the simple fact that no one else could understand what it was like to be a Beatle would have meant they all shared a special bond. However, they all had friendships outside of the band and this was something that could cause issues for John when it came to Paul.

According to Tune In, Mal initially became friends with Paul during the band's initial shows at the Cavern Club then, after a suggestion from George, Mal became a part of the Beatles entourage thereafter. Mal had friendships with all the Beatles, as part of their inner circle, but from his comments it appears John took umbrage with the closeness of Mal’s friendship with Paul:

“Paul would suddenly come in with this circle saying, “This is Magical Mystery Tour, will you write that bit?” And I was choked that he’d arranged it all with Mal anyway, for a kickoff, and had all this idea going”

St. Regis Hotel interview, Sept. 5, 1971

Mal also comes up when John discusses his recollections of the writing of Eleanor Rigby:

“So rather than ask me, “John, do these lyrics—” Because by that period, he didn’t want to say that – to me. Okay? So what he would say was, “Hey, you guys, finish off the lyrics,”... “ Now, I sat there with Mal Evans, a road manager who was a telephone installer, and Neil Aspinall, who was a not-completed student accountant who became our road manager. And I was insulted and hurt that he’d thrown it out in the air”...” There might be a version that they contributed, but there isn’t a line in there that they put in.“

Playboy interview, David Sheff 1980

John’s discomfort with the closeness of Paul’s relationship with Mal was something that wasn’t lost on Mal’s wife Lil:

“He was always at their beck and call. He was a nice fella to have around, so much so that it could provoke little jealousies within the band. When I met Yoko years after Mal died, she said John had told her he’d been very jealous at one point of Mal’s relationship with Paul.”

Lil Evans interview with Ray Connolly, 2005

Love interests - Linda McCartney

Throughout their friendship both John and Paul had quite a few love interests, which (to varying degrees) prompted jealousy between them.

Although John displayed jealousy of a few of Paul’s love interests this was no more apparent than with Paul’s first wife Linda McCartney, which is confirmed by both John’s words and actions regarding Linda and her partnership with Paul:

“"Then Klein informed Lennon that McCartney had secretly been increasing his stake in Northern Songs. ‘John flew into a rage,’ recalled Apple executive Peter Brown. ‘At one point I thought he was really going to hit Paul, but he managed to calm himself down.’ One unconfirmed report of this meeting had Lennon leaping towards Linda McCartney, his fists raised in her face"

Peter Doggett, You Never Give Me Your Money

"Int: When did you first meet her [Linda]? John: The first time I saw her was after that press conference to announce Apple in America. We were just going back to the airport and she was in the car with us. I didn't think she was particularly attractive, I wondered what he was bothering having her in the car for. A bit too tweedy, you know. But she sat in the car and took photographs and that was it. And the next minute she's married him."

St. Regis Hotel interview, Sept. 5, 1971

“I was reading your letter and wondering what middle aged cranky Beatle fan wrote it... "What the hell—it’s Linda! . . . Linda— if you don’t care what I say—shut up!—let Paul write—or whatever.”

"Of course, the money angle is important—to all of us—especially after all the petty shit that came from your insane family/in laws—and GOD HELP YOU OUT, PAUL—see you in two years—I reckon you’ll be out then"

Draft letter from John Lennon to Linda McCartney, circa 1971

"The presumption is a) the Beatles would get together again or are even thinking about it and b) if they got together, John and Yoko split, Paul and Linda split"

John (with Yoko) talks to John Fielding on Weekend World, 1973

"John often speculated on why Paul and Linda remained married while, at the same time, resenting their evident happiness, to the extent that he had Green do a tarot reading to ensure him that Paul and Linda were really secretly miserable and were going to divorce within a year"

According to Fred Seaman and John Green, source

Paul

Of course jealousy wasn't a one-way street in the Lennon-McCartney relationship. Unlike with John, for Paul I'm focusing more on the key people I believe his jealousy, regarding John, was directed to:

Stuart Sutcliffe

John met Stu at Art College and struck up a really close friendship with him. At the point that John met Stu, John had already become friends with Paul so Paul felt threatened when Stu entered the picture:

"When he [Stu] came into the band, around Christmas of 1959, we were a little jealous of him; it was something I didn’t deal with very well. We were always slightly jealous of John’s other friendships.

When Stuart came in, it felt as if he was taking the position away from George and me. We had to take a bit of a back seat."

Paul McCartney, Anthology 2000

"Paul was saying something about Stu’s girl – he was jealous because she was a great girl, and Stu hit him, on stage. And Stu wasn’t a violent guy at all."

John Lennon, 1967 Anthology 2000

"I looked up to Stu. I depended on him to tell me the truth. Stu would tell me if something was good and I’d believe him. We were awful to him sometimes. Especially Paul, always picking on him. I used to explain afterwards that we didn’t dislike him, really."

John Lennon, The Beatles Hunter Davies 1968

Yoko Ono

Of all the relationships I've already discussed, the relationship and jealousy displayed from Paul towards Yoko is probably the most widely discussed in Beatles historiography and general discourse. From the official start of Yoko's relationship with John in 1968 it was clear that Paul resented her presence in John's life and her proximity to the band:

"He even sent them [John and Yoko] a hate letter once, unsigned, typed. I brought it in with the morning mail. Paul put most of his fan mail in a big basket and let it sit for weeks, but John and Yoko opened every piece. When they got to the anonymous note, they looked puzzled, looking at each other with genuine pain in their eyes. ‘You and your Jap tart think you’re hot shit’, it said."

Francie Schwartz, Body Count 1972

"Cause she’s [Yoko] very much to do with it from John’s angle, that’s the thing, you know. And I – the thing is that I – there’s— Again, like, there’s always only two answers. One is to fight it, and fight her, and try and get The Beatles back to four people without Yoko, and sort of ask her to sit down at the board meetings. Or else, the other thing is to just realize that she’s there, you know. And he’s not gonna sort of – split with her, just for our sakes."

Paul McCartney, Let It Be Sessions, 1969

"I told John on the phone the other day that at the beginning of last year I was annoyed with him. I was jealous because of Yoko, and afraid about the break-up of a great musical partnership. It’s taken me a year to realise that they were in love. Just like Linda and me."

Paul McCartney, interview with Ray Connolly, 1970

What are the similarities and differences in the way jealousy manifested for John and Paul?

I think it's obvious but bears repeating that both John and Paul displayed jealousy towards other people who they felt would threaten their relationship so that's central to all the instances I have flagged, Jim, Mal, Linda, Stu, Yoko all posed real or imagined threats to John and Paul's partnership.

However, you'll note that I included more sources to display John's jealousy regarding Paul and that I categorised John's jealousy targets whereas I only pulled out two key individuals for Paul, this isn't to say that John was more jealous than Paul was, as jealousy isn't something you can quantify, but to highlight my opinion that Paul's jealousy regarding John was more targeted than John's jealousy regarding Paul. I think what stands out to me is that, I think generally Stu and Yoko are held up as the prime examples of Paul's jealousy of other people getting close to John, as far as we know, Paul never had significant issues with other people who formed close relationships with John like Pete Shotton, Cynthia Lennon, Magic Alex etc., why was that? I think that Paul was more threatened when he felt that John was replacing him so by bringing Stu into the band (even though he wasn't a musician) and Yoko into the studio (one instance where Paul was especially hurt was when John gave Paul's line in The Continuing Story of Bungalow Bill to Yoko to sing), Paul perhaps felt that his place as John's primary collaborator was in jeopardy and that he could lose a partnership that had become central to his self-worth as a person - that, I believe, was when his jealousy was most likely to rise to the fore. John, on the other hand, had a much wider range of targets when it came to jealousy regarding Paul, why was John jealous of Linda? Linda wasn't trying to replace John as Paul's collaborator, if anything she wanted the Lennon-McCartney partnership to be stronger. Why was John jealous of Mal? Mal wasn't a musician, Mal was a huge fan of the band and constantly worked to fulfil their requests, so why was John so threatened by his friendship with Paul? For me, John's jealousy regarding Paul was more than just a fear of directly being replaced, I believe John's jealousy was fundamentally triggered by a fear of abandonment. I think the childhood trauma John experienced, of being left by both his parents, meant that whenever any of his close friendships and relationships were threatened, or he felt that someone close to him may leave him, he would act out. John fell out with his childhood best friend Pete when he got a girlfriend, John hit Cynthia when he saw her dancing with Stu, John was rude to several of Paul's love interests and ultimately John never fully accepted Paul's relationship with Linda because, although he could see that she could offer Paul the family life he always wanted, John didn't want Linda to take Paul away and give him a family that meant that Paul would no longer be able to prioritise John in his life as he had in the past.

Ultimately, we'll never know all the ways that jealousy factored into John and Paul's relationship with each other and those around them, as I'm sure it impacted several relationships in more complex ways than I can articulate (i.e. I suspect jealousy played a part in Paul's initial resentment of Brian but they grew closer over time so maybe Paul's jealousy lessened over time or Brian became less of a threat?). I do think it's important to consider that jealousy was present on both sides and was likely a factor in the breakdown of John and Paul's relationship, the breakdown of the Beatles and was a continued factor in disrupting reconciliations between John and Paul into the 70s and 1980.

[kingwuko]

Wuko in the Comics: Ruins of the Empire, Book 1 part 2

Welcome to my series of posts discussing Wuko in the Comics. In this post I'll continue to discuss RotE Book 1. There are some... interesting moments in the second half of this comic, including a very famous line that all but confirms canon Wuko.

Plot Summary

Fearing that Guan will use violence to stop the election, the Krew decides to bring Kuvira along with them to Gaoling, hoping that she can talk him down. When they come face-to-face with Guan, however, they discover he does not intend to use violence, but will run in Gaoling’s election. The Krew decides the best solution is to find another candidate with enough public support to defeat Guan fair and square; and they decide to ask Toph to run. It is revealed, however, that Guan does not intend to win fair and square. He’s planning to brainwash Gaoling’s citizens to vote for him.

Major Plot points in the second half of Book 1

We start off right away with the Sauna Scene. Everyone looks excellent. The ladies' sauna wear is lovely. Mako and Bolin have their classic swim suits seen in season 1. Wu is literally just wearing a towel. I found myself googling saunas and steam baths to see if it’s normal to wear swimsuits or just a towel, and everything I read said pretty much anything goes as long as you are comfortable, but I do find it interesting that everyone wears swimsuits except Wu. Maybe because he does steam baths more often and he’s just more comfortable in that setting? He seems pretty confident and not at all shy. I don’t have anything analytical to say about it, I just think it’s an interesting detail, that he doesn’t seem to have any hang-ups about being nearly naked around Mako his friends.

They are discussing Guan’s militaristic movement toward Gaoling, and tossing ideas around to handle the situation. Mako not-so-helpfully suggests using force with the united forces which Zhu Li shoots down right away, not wanting to escalate the situation. Wu agrees and wants to find a peaceful resolution. Korra, remembering her conversation with Kuvira, thinks she has the answer. She proposes bringing Kuvira along to Gaoling, which NOBODY is happy about. Asami is upset because she made it clear earlier she does not want to be in the same room as Kuvira, Bolin is distressed because Kuvira nearly had him killed when he defected from her inner circle, Mako points out that he nearly lost his arm taking down the mech, Zhu Li says she invaded republic city, Asami reminds everyone that Kuvira killed her father, and Wu boldly declares that we can’t forget she ruined his coronation… He quickly reads the room and apologises (character growth?).

Korra acknowledges everyone’s concerns and points out that she truly believes Kuvira can be an ally- she was their ally when Zaheer was trying to kill her and the airbenders; and when her spirit vine weapon ripped open a new portal to the spirit world, Kuvira thought she had died and Korra believes that changed her. Bolin points out that Kuvira is very persuasive and may have a good shot at convincing Guan to stand down. Everyone is convinced and declares their support for the plan.

Zhu Li orders Kuvira’s release and Korra brings her onto the airship taking them all to Gaoling. And, I’m sorry, this frame is like, the bitchiest collective look from Mako, Wu, Bolin and Pabu. I just love it.

They initially plan to restrain her, but decide it’s pointless when Kuvira points out if she wanted to escape that she would have already. They arrive at Gaoling and there’s no sign of Guan and his army. Kuvira is certain he’ll be there, and points out that she needs to change so she doesn’t meet with him looking like a prisoner.

Korra and Wu go to meet with the election candidates. Their portraits are on the wall and it’s revealed that the candidates are both elderly magistrates who have been working in the local government for a long time. They are practically indistinguishable from each other, which causes Korra concern. Wu isn’t happy about it either, he was hoping the elections would bring in new leaders to take the earth kingdom in a new direction. Instead, it looks like nothing will change in Gaoling or the rest of the earth kingdom if things play out the same way. They are both disappointed but Korra is optimistic that this is the first election and over things will improve as they iron out the political kinks

Back in the flying machine, they give Kuvira an outfit of Asami’s that is…. Like I can’t put it into words. I’ve never seen asami wear it and that is a shame. The word that comes to mind is “Dapper”. Like is we saw Asami wearing it when they first introduced her character literally everyone would have predicted Cannon Korrasami and immeadiately said “yup Asami’s gay straight women don’t dress like that”. Slacks, a collared long sleeve shirt, with a grey vest over top. Just like, amazing. I am so disappointed we never saw Asami wear this. Someone point me to a fanart of Asami in this outfit that canonically belongs to her please.

Guan arrives and Kuvira tries to talk to him, which goes about as well as you’d expect. So she tries to appeal directly to his troops and urges them to surrender, and they all say in unison “Hail Commander Guan!”. So Kuvira decides to challenge Guan and beats the crap out of him in a punch that looks like something directly out of a WWII propaganda poster or something.

Kuvira is literally about to kill him by bending the metal collar around his neck when suddenly Asami electrocutes her with some device she had hidden in the belt she gave Kuvira.

Once Mako and Bolin drag Kuvira away, Korra attempts to reason with Guan and tells him she won’t let him interfere with the election. Guan then reveals he has no intention of interfering- he plans on running in the election! He immediately turns in all the necessary paperwork to be on the ballot. He informs the Krew that soon, all the upcoming elections will have Earth Empire representatives running and once they have power in every territory, no one will question the Earth Empire's right to rule.

They reconvene back on the airship, where Kuvira is detained in the platinum box. They explain to Kuvira that she was wrong to provoke him, but right that he is an excellent strategist. Mako then tells Wu that he should just call off the election. Wu replies “Mako, you know I love you, but I’m trying to encourage democracy. I can’t just go around canceling elections because I don’t like one of the candidates. We need to see how this plays out”

…

Yes. “Mako, you know I love you”

…

We’ll discuss that at length in a bit.

They decide the best path forward is to find a new candidate who is popular enough to beat Guan. Korra excitedly suggests Toph. Which, like, wouldn’t have been the first person to come to mind for me, but I guess she’s the only person they know who is originally from Goaling? But everyone seems on board, except presumably Toph because she doesn't like to get involved in worldly affairs… So Korra announces they will just have to convince her!!

We then cut to Guan's encampment, where he is discussing Kuvira’s actions with a Doctor Sheng, observing that Kuvira just isn’t the same, and that the Avatar has corrupted her mind. The doctor suggests they “recalibrate” Kuvira’s mind and leads him into a structure where she shows him their latest “recruits'. We then see Goaling citizens tied up in chairs with devices on their heads. They are being brainwashed to vote for Guan! Yikes!

Mako and Wu Scenes

The Sauna scene

The meeting that took place in the sauna was at the behest of Wu. He said he was very stressed out so he couldn’t miss his steam bath. I know there are lots of jokes about Wu being high maintenance because he needs his spa days or whatever, but he is in a highly stressful situation right now and we know that self care is essential to maintain one’s mental health and in order to perform one’s job well. I think this was an interesting way to weave together his seemingly superficial hobbies with his new maturity and responsibility. I really loved this scene for that (though seeing all the hot people in sauna-wear is a bonus).

Also there is a recurring thing where Mako is just offering the worst advice to Korra. He wants the United Republic, a completely separate Nation from the Earth Kingdom, to just.. March into another country and ‘enforce’ their democratic process??? Like…. If you know anything about world history and current events we know that is awful and wouldn’t be received well and would be a recipe for political instability and long term conflict. Thank goodness everyone is like Mako no. I’m pointing this out because, as much as we think of Wu as being immature, irresponsible, whatever, the reality is that he has a level head while Mako is actually giving the irresponsible solutions here. It’s a really interesting evolution from the infamous Wu meltdown scene where Mako was the voice of reason, but here things have reversed.

Also, I want to point out the moment where Wu backs down after he adds his grievance to the list everyone is giving (She ruined my coordination!), it’s kind of played for laughs but like… Wu has a totally valid reason to be upset on par with everyone else, considering Kuvira had him drugged and kidnapped…. Why wouldn’t he have said that? Well, the simple and obvious answer is- the writers wanted to make a “Arson, Murder, and Jaywalking” joke. But since us fans like to give depths to the characters that they deserve, maybe Wu is genuinely traumatized and just doesn’t want to bring it up. And maybe everyone knows he’s traumatized and doesn't want to bring it up, because no one else is like “Wu, did you forget she had you drugged and kidnapped???” They just give him a look and he’s like “LOL oops sorry should have said my thing first!!” maybe Team Avatar understands that it was a really scary moment for him and they just let him shield himself with humor.

I know it isn’t isn’t exactly a strong Wuko moment, but the bitchy look that Moko, Bolin, Wu and Pabu give to Kuvira in the airship breathed life into me for some reason. I’m loving how they look like a group of mean girls who were just badmouthing Kuvira before she walked in. I think they were having a nice bonding moment before this.

Mako, you know I love you

Ok. So after Mako casually mentions just calling off the election, Wu flat out says “I love you” to Mako. This is a line us Wuko shippers just DIE for. The full line is as follows:

Mako: I say you call off the vote, at least for now. Make it impossible for Guan to win

Wu: Mako, you know I love you, but I’m trying to encourage democracy. I can’t just go around cancelling elections because I don’t like one of the candidates. We need to let this play out.

So. Like, what the heck are we supposed to make of this?

I’m not going to dig too deep and force my own interpretations and headcanons onto you. This I love you could mean a number of different things. I just want to pose some rhetorical questions about it and the context to give us all some things to think about.

Is Wu flirting? Does Mako actually know that Wu loves him? Is this an extension of Wu’s many other instances of flirting with complimenting Mako (on par with ‘my big tough guy” while staring at his ass)? Has Wu said “I love you” to Mako before? How many times has Wu said “Mako I love you” before? Is this evidence of them actually being in a romantic relationship during this comic? Or is it evidence of romantic tension building? Is Mako just totally oblivious to the fact that Wu said I love you? Or did he hear it and his brain blue-screened from the shock of being blatantly told I love you? Has Wu just gotten fed up that Mako seems oblivious to all his previous flirtations and he just decided to up the ante? Does Mako love Wu back?!

Lots of questions. Lots of interpretations. But (as far as I remember) Mako has only said I love you to two people- his brother and Korra (I don’t think he said I love you to Asami but I could be wrong). And if you’ve read this you know that Mako’s relationship with Wu is not brotherly. We’ve never heard “I love you” from Wu toward anyone else that I can recall so I don’t think he makes a habit of throwing the phrase around lightly. Also, worth noting: Literally no one reacts to the casual “I love you”. Everyone just goes on with the conversation at hand. The next frame that we see of Wu and Mako’s faces together, Mako is SMILING at Wu.

So like, he’s clearly not uncomfortable with being told that Wu loves him. And no one else is uncomfortable with it either. So what gives? Are they together? Are they flirting? Is everyone else just like “yup Wu said I love you Mako nothing out of the ordinary here because it’s painfully obvious Wu is into Mako, let's move on, nothing to see here”?

Wu and Korra

One thing I LOVE about these comics is the friendship between Korra and Wu. During the series, Korra tolerated Wu, warming up to him a bit at the very end when he told her his plan to abdicate. But through these comics there seems to be a comfortable familiarity between them. A bit of teasing, loads of moral support, and not a hint of her (or anyone) being super annoyed by him. He also doesn’t hit on her or anyone else except Mako, which is a very refreshing character growth because it was very tiresome to watch him objectify women in the animated series.

Korra and Wu spend a good amount of time together as she accompanies him to Gaoling’s city hall. They seem very comfortable with each other, comfortable enough that the writers included a fart joke.

Korra reassures Wu when he expresses worry about the election being pointless, she steps forward somewhat protectively when Guan shows up- the entire scene with Guan, Korra is standing between him and Wu.

Basically I bring this up because I genuinely love the idea that Korra and Wu are close and friendly, that they have moved on from his cringy behavior from the series (I like to think he apologized to both her and Asami?)

What this means for Wuko

If you are writing fic or just coming up with headcanon, there are two ways to look at the scenes. Either they are in a relationship, or they aren’t. You could easily just say they are in a relationship and are being quiet about it, because they aren’t ready to be fully public, or maybe because they are still figuring things out, or they are waiting for Wu to abdicate and move back to Republic City, etc. “You know I love you” is such an easy piece of canon content to make this your headcanon.

Likewise, one could say they are Not Together right now. Pre-relationship, if you will. Maybe they’ve danced around the idea, discussed feelings without actually getting together. Or maybe they are still clueless that there is a potential for a relationship. Wu might be putting out feelers to see how Mako responds to his flirtations. Mako might be wondering if he’s misinterpreting Wu’s affectionate touches and words. Lots of romantic tension, pining, each wondering if the other one has any feelings.

I also love the idea that Wu and Korra are friends and have discussed or will discuss Mako and Wu’s feelings for him.

So, in summary, Wu loves Mako. It’s canon. It’s right there in black and white. Make of it what you will!

Next post I will discuss Wuko in the first half of RotE Book 2. Wu goes on a life-changing field trip with Korra to meet Toph and confront a swamp-vision of his Late Great Aunt, while Mako gets captured and brainwashed by Guan. Wu and Mako are not together during these scenes but there will be lots of wonderful Wu backstory along with plenty of angst potential from the brainwashing storyline.

Wuko in Turf Wars

Wuko in RotE part 1

[nyerus]

How would you lure someone into reading MXTX's novels beyond the usual "the main CP is this and that"? Cos for example, every time someone tells me to read MDZS, they mostly just say Wangxian is married and have a child and leave it at that, which isn't encouraging at all??? Sorry to bother you with this question. I love reading your responses though!

Hi there anon!~

I think pitching MXTX novels as purely "couple is so-and-so" is also a bit of a disservice, too! One of my favorite things about many danmei novels is indeed that they are very plot-heavy and contain lots of thought-provoking concepts. For the sake of this answer, I will limit it to MDZS since you gave that as an example.

For me, the most interesting thing about MDZS is not necessarily that "Wangxian are married and have a son" but the actual struggles that both Wei Wuxian and Lan Wangji endure in order to get to a point where they can be happy together. It takes one of them dying and coming back, plus the shattering of social complacency that occurs during the present timeline of the novel. And even then, that's not even really the main focus of the novel, it's more like a product of everything else that happens. Their history is also long and marred with anger, confusion, heartbreak, and understanding.

I have my own preferences of how I read Wei Wuxian, for example, that I think differs from other people's. Same for how I like to interpret Wangxian. In an effort not to rock the boat, I'll just say that I think Wangxian is a very compelling and interesting couple because they both put in work to make it work. I like thinking of how they are just very fundamentally different people, but do well together because they choose to.

But again, I think MXTX made a point also in not focusing too much on their relationship itself, but rather the plot and how/why it develops the way it does. She had something she wanted to say with this work, as she does with each one of her works. MDZS is first and foremost a murder-mystery with the background of a war story. It's about the dangers of mob mentality, how fast the crowd will turn against you if you step out of line. It's about how rocking the boat has far-reaching consequences, and how society often wants the easiest and cheapest way to morality. It's about how the pressure to be perfect will shatter someone, yet the cracks may not show until it's too late. How oppression can make both heroes, and monsters -- and that sometimes, that distinction is simply a matter of who is telling the story.

(I also want to note that there's also the one theme that MXTX seems to really favor, and is present in all 3 of her works: having one person on your side can be enough.)

These are all incredible concepts that I think are really worth reading the novel for. Not to mention, they are eternally relevant conversations to have. MDZS is a novel painted in gray, and deserves thoughtful consideration of such. (Of course, it can also just be a lot of fun!) Even how you view the main character is absolutely dependent on what perspective you want to see him through. This itself is really interesting and unique.

The way the novel ends, with a lot let unsaid -- intentionally so -- is bittersweet yet satisfying. Fascinating in the sense that yeah, not everyone gets a happy ending, but in a way that genuinely makes sense. (But if you're worried, fear not, Wangxian do end up married and with a son, after all lol!)

Ultimately, these are adult novels, meant for an adult audience -- and created as much for the purposes of having fun, as they are to be discussed and analyzed through a scholarly lens. So I definitely share your frustration in being pitched a novel purely on the couple, because YEAH I do care a lot about the couple (see: how I devote at least 80% of my brain power to thinking about Hualian kissing), but I also do want a story that is satisfying in more than just one way. I.e., is stratifying in both terms of its main couple's relationship AND a fleshed-out plot line with lots of themes to analyze, because I like having fun in both of those ways!

I think even when we pitch other MXTX novels (or danmei novels in general), it's helpful to do it the same way. To focus on what makes the novel great in its entirety, not just a small, reductive portion of it. Especially when it’s very clear that the author has so many things they’re trying to say with the work. However, I'll end this here because this answer is getting so long lol! I hope this helped you out, anon, and maybe even sold you a little more on MDZS haha! (ﾉ´ヮ`)ﾉ*: ･ﾟ

[dmagedgoods]

Mistakes we make

An added scene a while after not-a-date during act III, not directly tied to an in-game event, but a lot to Daeran’s aversion against demons and my knight commander’s prideful conviction to be able to negotiate with anyone he encounters. Male Commander/Daeran, hurt/comfort, angst to part 2 to part 3 AO3 ~~~ Mistakes we make - Part 1 / 3 Inconsiderate, irritating, incapable of following orders. Salvadore forced his thoughts back to the letter he was preparing, maneuvering words like a graceful vessel through a tumultuous sea. Usually, he enjoyed those negotiations with Nerosyan, to a degree even the quarrels with the royal council, their attempts to reach for control he would deny them, their resistance in return and to circuit perils or provoke reactions. Usually, he would read this letter to Daeran now, note his additions for the final version, discuss their options, decide how far to go, chuckle about the predictability of Mendev’s authorities and share stories about their past and their experiences with those in power and incapable to rule. Salvadore clenched his jaw. Despite Daeran’s own assertions and his efforts to disguise his suggestions as mockery, he had noticed his skill for diplomacy and political games almost immediately. His ideas never lacked audacity, provocation and an unorthodox approach, but they were astute, and they were smart and often of a vigorous effect. Like the man himself.

Salvadore put his quill aside, when he caught himself with his thoughts adrift once more. “Did I make the right decision?” The words cut into the silence of the consulting room. Only Regill worked quietly at his side. They were alone, except for the guards. “I’m afraid you have to specify your question, commander,” the gnome answered in his low, dusky voice. Salvadore – while always slow to trust and definitely not content with his affinity for merciless methods which only should be a last resort, not the first thought to act on – had come to deeply respect him for his pragmatism, efficiency, discipline and experience and he genuinely cherished his advice. “In suspending Count Arendae.” Regill lifted one of his expressive eyebrows. “You did. I’m willing to admit that his objections were substantiated and reasonable. I, too, strongly advocate against your habit to spare surrendering demons. But he disobeyed a direct order in the middle of an instable situation and risked the safety of the group and the lives of the civilians. If the decision was mine to make, I would have discharged him much sooner for all his other transgressions. Besides” He paused and his yellow eyes examined him in their usual intensity. “I’m glad to know that, different from what I feared, you place your duties above … personal entanglements.” Salvadore felt cold at those words. Different from other occasions, this time Regill’s approval did nothing but to tighten the heavy knot in his stomach. Placing his duties above personal entanglements … As he had been taught, from a very young age. Love was dangerous, forbidden for those in command, who wanted to prevent not only outer attacks towards those they held close, but also failure caused by emotions and dangerous attachment. He had hoped a positive answer to his question would lead to some renewed confidence in his decision, but it only made it seem more like a foolish mistake. No matter how vulnerable it left him: he wasn’t able to lose him. Not him. And for a while now he felt a nagging fear: Maybe he had failed to make clear that it only was meant to be an entirely professional and temporary punishment. In the end it harmed him more than Daeran, or so he had thought. How was it anything but unexpected vacations for the count who disliked their trips into the inhospitable nature of the worldwound even more than himself? But their last conversation had been harsh, he had reacted in cold sharpness, Daeran in a snide, contemptuous demeanor. He still felt bitter regret at the thought. Daeran had avoided any true conversation during their way back to Drezen and even after their arrival he had given him no chance for a more personal talk, eye to eye, stripped bare of all titles, only them, the way it always had been in private and beyond. Three days now, and it left him incapable to focus on anything else. “And I will do so in the future as well,” Salvadore replied with some delay. “Nonetheless …” He placed the unfinished letter in the folder of documents in need of revision. “I finally have to talk to him.” His pride be damned, he should have visited the residence Daeran inhabited here in Drezen right the evening they had been back from their last mission and demand entry to the house. – To make things right and let him know that he had to separate between his duties and his private life, at least in moments like this, but that this incident didn’t change a thing between them. Gods, of course it didn’t. The thought alone was sheer absurdity. And still Daeran probably needed to hear it spoken out loud. The last light of the day already grew dimmer when he entered the familiar streets. Right after their victory, when they had reclaimed the city, he had felt uncomfortable between the heavy walls, the dark massive stone always reminded him more of a dungeon than a seat of power. It was built resilient and strong, no doubt, but lacked every elegance and every sense for architectural art. He missed the luxury of his old estate, he missed the white, the sun of his home and, most of all, he missed the ocean. Nonetheless, he had grown weirdly fond of Drezen during the months of his stay. His responsibilities anchored him here. – His responsibilities and the memories of brightness between the terrors of this war. Only ten minutes later he had reached his place of determination and was astonished to be greeted by vivid music, laughter and the smell of perfume, food and smoke. No guard kept him from entering and for a moment the typical, irresponsible lack of security measures distracted him from his surprise, before he was able to stop one of the servants to ask him what was going on. “Commander!” The boy seemed a little shocked. “We didn’t expect you. Count Arendae didn’t mention that you’ll attend. You didn’t do so yesterday and …” “I won’t.” A sharp sting shot through his chest at the realization that Daeran not only hosted some kind of festivity for the second day in a row, but hadn’t even informed him with the subtle idea to lure him into participating. No, he only seemed to celebrate his freedom of him. “Where can I find the count?” “He’s in the lounge. I’ll inform him of your …” “No need.” Salvadore ignored all further attempts of the servant to announce him and went towards the northern rooms of the residence. He stopped dead in his steps when his eyes fell onto the count. There he sat, all shining golden hair and dazzling smile, wearing an elegant jacket in shades of amethyst and pale purple. He was chatting with a lightly dressed woman who had taken place on the armrest of his chair, leaning over to flirt and touch him in a playful demeanor every once in a while. The moment Daeran spotted him his posture stiffened, his features showed a flicker of something he couldn’t quite place, before his smile took over again, colder now, dismissive and distant. “Salvadore! What an unwelcome honor. When I didn’t send an invitation, I forgot that the commander of this glorious crusade can feel invited wherever he pleases. I assume you came to ruin the fun?” “I came to talk to you in private.” He managed to keep his voice completely calm, despite the heavy pain in his chest and raging jealousy tightening his throat. “I’m neither in the mood to leave, nor do I feel especially talkative, but be my guest. I’m pretty sure no one here would dare to use their sense of hearing without the permission of their dearest commander. I wonder … Will I get another speech about the integrity of every holy decision you make? About your superior morale and my obligation to agree and obey like your other tame little lackeys and sycophants?” That couldn’t possibly be the way he had interpreted his words. “I never meant to imply anything even close to that nonsense.” Salvadore tried to remember the exact phrasing he had used back in the worldwould, crippling fear growing stronger. Had he truly sounded like this? The chatter in the room had gone silent. It was quiet enough to feel the eyes of every person in the room resting on the count and him in unconcealed curiosity. “Daeran,” His pride rose up against the gentle, urging tone when it was met with nothing but rejection. And still he had to try, still he would fight. “in the name of everything we have, …” – Everything we had, a cruel little voice corrected in his mind and he silenced it immediately. – “could we discuss the matter anywhere less public?” As if to confirm the unbearable fear he hid, the count reached out for his courtesan and run his fingers through her hair. Salvadore knew he did it to hurt him. It worked. It worked so well he barely could breathe. “Are you worried about your reputation, Commander?” He watched him in sardonic mockery. “ – That some may agree with me and condemn your negotiations with demons?” “I did so to protect the group of merchants without further endangering their lives.” Once more, his voice stayed calm, but now this calmness was sharp and hard. “You disobeyed out of personal reasons and to satisfy your need for revenge.” Daeran placed his arm around the waist of the courtesan and pulled her into his lap, pretending to barely pay attention to him anymore. “Maybe it is a pity those demons died. Or else you could try to persuade their next victims.” Salvadore felt something inside of him grow cold. He wished the pain would freeze as well, but it throbbed through his veins in unbroken vigor with every beat of his heart. “I wanted to leave this behind, to tell you that this disagreement doesn’t matter to me, not beyond the mission itself and not regarding …” He stopped himself from continuing. Never before had he felt this humiliated, not even when he had been forced to flee his own home. At least his degrading escape from Absalom had happened in silence, without the prying eyes of an audience. And the one who had caused it to him had not been the person he loved more than his life. For a brief moment Daeran searched for his eyes again. It seemed he wanted to add something. But he decided against it and his attention moved back to the woman in his lap. Salvadore turned away, too abruptly to completely hide his emotions, and left without another word. His steps were firm, his back straight as always, to preserve the last bit of dignity he had left. It wasn’t till he reached the citadel and his room that he allowed himself to break down. He could barely remember the last time he had felt tears on his face. The pain burned through his blood like a living creature attempting to tear him from within. He should control himself; his reaction was unworthy of everyone calling themselves a leader, but he couldn’t breathe, he couldn’t think. His shaking hand closed around the pendant he wore. Despite what just happened he couldn’t bring himself to tear it from his neck. His eyes got caught by the roses on the table Daeran had brought in here as well. The bed, every piece of furniture, the whole room was flooded by memories. He couldn’t stay here. He needed to get out again, he needed to get out the Citadel, out of Drezen. This time he was past caring about the eyes that watched their commander pass and aim for the gates on his pointless attempt to flee the raging pain and the sharp, merciless realization of what he had lost. The agony followed his every step. ~~~ tbc

[olivia-anderson-fanfic]

A Miraculous TikTok Account

Part 25

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But, unfortunately, the good mood didn’t last long.

Hungover, tired from lack of sleep, and sore from sleeping on the floor…

Not a great start to the day, but they had stuff to get done.

They’d all brought their technology and, after a few moments where they'd discussed their abilities, they’d gotten to work. If it were at any other time, with any other people, they could have been mistaken for just a set of teenagers engrossed in their technology of choice.

Unfortunately, it wasn’t as lighthearted as it seemed to the untrained eye.

Ladybug pressed her lips into a thin line, eyes roving over every still frame of their TikToks.

It didn’t make sense. It didn’t make sense AT ALL.

Why had Hawkmoth suddenly upped the ante? It had to have something to do with their accounts and/or the fact that they were now all living together, it was too soon after the start for it to be anything else, but then the answer should be obvious. It should be somewhere on their accounts…

And yet she couldn’t find anything. Nothing that could have provoked him, really.

She could see the conspiracy board in the background of Chloe’s video, but that didn’t mean much.

It showed their estimate of Hawkmoth’s height, which shouldn’t be much of a problem considering the fact that miraculi had a way of keeping people from figuring out who their holders are using physical characteristics alone...

It also showed some of the attributes/insults that the miraculous team had come up with. Had he been upset when Ladybug had pointed out his “stupid shaped condom head”? Insulted when Carapace had said he had “Rich asshole dad vibes (think Gabriel Agreste but more overtly evil)”? Hurt when Chloe had written “terrible fashion sense, probably straight”?

She didn’t think that was what had happened, lashing out over a few petty insults didn’t fit her profile of him. Hawkmoth was smug, Hawkmoth was cool and collected, and, above all, Hawkmoth was determined to keep his hands clean so he couldn’t be found.

Maybe that was it. He’d been threatened by the proof that they were actively looking for him.

She didn’t know. It didn’t make sense for someone who only ever came out when he thought he had won to appear for seemingly no reason…

But she brushed it off. They had bigger problems.

Namely, Hawkmoth shouldn’t have been able to find them. They’d done everything they could to keep their location a secret, from carefully placed camera angles to sneaking in through windows to asking Rena to cloak them when they could. So how had he found them?

The first answer they’d come up with was the people Chloe had hired to move her things in. Chloe had badgered her dad to figure out the names of the movers and given them over to Rena, who was doing a shockingly extensive background check on them all (they were opting not to question it).

“Three of them had a criminal record, but they were all minor. Public indecency, drunk driving, that kind of thing. Nothing that really screams ‘Hawkmoth’,” said Rena. “And the only one that fit the height requirement was the complete wrong skin color, so…”

“I doubt that any of them have property in the rich area of town, anyways,” said Chloe.

This earned a glare from the others and she shrunk back with a sheepish smile.

“It’s around the Eiffel Tower, though, we should check that out,” said Ladybug. “Since that’s a more or less easy to access place.”

Rena shook her head slightly. “There’s been akumas that have tried to take or destroy the Tower. If his base was there he wouldn’t have allowed that.”

They all considered this before deciding that made sense.

Carapace leaned back in the armchair with a long sigh. “I looked through all the comments. If anyone managed to find us that way they’d have to be speaking in code for me to have missed it.”

Chloe nodded and set her phone down. “I couldn’t find anything on the internet, either.”

There was a beat as the five of them considered this. If the movers hadn’t been Hawkmoth, and no one online had figured it out, then the only way Hawkmoth could have found out was…

The anxiety in the room spiked.

“So, we all agree that the traitor is probably Chat, right?” Said Chloe.

Chat frowned. “I was the only person fighting him for a while. Why would I even bother if I was a traitor?”

“To keep up looks, or maybe you only recently started working with him,” said Rena. “Besides, Hawkmoth needed the Ladybug miraculous, too, to make the wish. Maybe you were waiting for her to show up.”

Chat bit his lip and drew his knees to his chest. “No. The only reason that we even got a Ladybug was that I happened to be allergic to birds. I didn’t even know there were other miraculi until she showed up.”

“And that allergy was exploited quite a few times by Hawkmoth, so much so that another hero had to be involved. Sounds a little suspicious, honestly.”

Carapace sighed. “Please, that was just good strategy. Hawkmoth wanted another hero to appear, so he made it happen. There’s no reason to think that it was Chat’s fault.”

Rena didn’t seem all that convinced.

“Maybe we should get Chat to explain why his room wasn’t touched,” Chloe said.

“I can’t! Because, get this: I don’t know or help Hawkmoth!”

Carapace raised an eyebrow. “Can we talk about how eager you guys are to throw him under the bus?”

Rena frowned. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

“I’m SAYING that someone here has been just a little too curious about us all. Not to mention you love it when stuff doesn’t go well for us. Or that you’re the newest member here.”

Rena pushed her laptop from her lap and got to her feet. “PLEASE. You’re just mad that all the signs are pointing towards your little friend betraying us!”

Carapace pushed himself to his feet as well, looking at Chloe and Rena with clear contempt. “And your ally is so great? Want to talk about how she messes up all the time and makes everything hard on us? She fucked up enough to get Ladybug to babysit but, sure, let’s go after the person who’s been putting his life on the line for the longest!”

Chloe launched herself at him --.

“ALRIGHT, THAT’S ENOUGH!”

Chloe’s hand stopped inches away from Carapace’s face. Carapace let go of her shirt. Rena unclenched her fists. Chat pulled his face out of his knees.

Ladybug crossed her arms over her chest. “Kwami. You’re acting like children.”

“But --,” tried Rena.

“NO.”

Rena snapped her mouth shut.

“I get that you’re all scared, and that’s UNDERSTANDABLE, but you need to get ahold of yourselves. This is exactly what Hawkmoth wanted, for us to be scared and angry and, most importantly, ready for akumatization. Yes, this is a big problem, but all of you need to go cool down.”

There was a beat before Chloe got off of Carapace and offered him a hand up. Carapace looked reluctant but, when Ladybug had turned her glare on him, he took it.

“Thank you.” Ladybug pressed her lips together as she considered her next words. “If you’re going to get akumatized, run out of Paris and do something to relax. Otherwise... Chat: play video games, Carapace: listen to music in your room, Rena: you can use my gym to work out, Chloe: do some gardening.”

There were a few moments as the four stared at her with wide eyes before they slowly shuffled off to do as they were told.

She waited to make sure they were gone before dropping her Ladybug persona and falling back on the couch. She rested her arm over her eyes.

Kwami, she hated that it had gotten that far. Really, she hadn’t expected it. While it wasn’t at all shocking that Rena and Chloe were confrontational and Chat would cower, she hadn’t thought Carapace would snap at them. 

Still, once she’d realized that things were escalating… she probably should have done something.

Not that she didn’t have a reason, because Ladybug always had a reason. She’d wanted to see their reasonings for why they could all be traitors.

… not that she genuinely thought there were traitors. The only person that was even slightly shady out of the lot of them was Rena, and she was pretty sure that was just because of her miraculous.

Ladybug clicked her tongue irritably.

How the hell was she supposed to prove to everyone else that they were all safe, though?

~~~

Taglist

@nathleigh @sassakitty @th1s-1s-my-aesthet1c @blueslushgueen @woe-is-me0 @ladybug-182 @cas-and-their-refusal-to-write @trippingovermyfeet @melicmusicmagic

[foursideharmony]

The Cat, the Prince, and the Doorway to Imagination (Chapter 7)

Summary: The final confrontation with the wicked White Warlock!

Pairings: Platonic/familial LAMP/CALM, Platonic/familial DLAMPR

Content Warnings: More Remus being Remus. Violence and threats of violence. Someone slowly being covered in ice.

Word Count: 3,675

Read on AO3: here

“Huh,” Remus said, apparently lost for words (which was unusual in itself). “So now what?”

Janus blinked. “I'm not sure.”

“Which means you are sure, right?” Remus said with a great big wink.

Before Janus could explain for the umpteenth time that it wasn't that simple (and never had been), there came a loud growling sound from nearby, and something huge and brown came crashing out of the brush and charged them. Janus barely managed to dive out of the way of what he quickly realized was an entire bear. Remus, always a big believer in the principle that the best defense is a good offense, dodged it by leaping straight up, and used the momentum of his downward arc to add force to a massive swing of his morningstar. The blow knocked the beast off its feet, and it threw great arcs of snow into the air as it skidded to a stop.

“That was fun!” Remus declared, resting the weapon on his shoulder. “Hey, want me to skin it for you? A nice bearskin rug will keep you warm so you don't have to crawl under a rotting log to hibernate!”

Janus had no time to muse upon how accurately he had predicted Remus's behavior, because a motion at the corner of his eye told him that the bear was not totally out of play yet. It was made of far sterner stuff than the dwarf had been and had only been stunned by the blow, and was now shaking itself awake. But rather than lunging at them again, or even fleeing back into the trees, it hoisted itself into a sitting position, clutched at its head with its paws, and began to whimper.

“Oh, stop it!” Remus said petulantly. “You attacked us, remember? Roman calls me violent, but I would just like to point out that so far, 100% of the creatures from this winter wonderland of his have tried to kill us!”

Much to Janus's surprise (though perhaps it shouldn't have been), the bear pivoted on its rump and said: “I was only protecting Mr. Logan!”

Janus smiled...now this was a situation he could deal with. He stepped forward, made Remus silence himself just to be on the safe side, and said, “Why, we would never harm Logan! We're some of his closest friends, after all!”

Still rubbing its—his—head with one paw, the bear rolled around until it was standing on the other three. “Then sirs, you must be the help he sent for!”

“We are! We got his message! But alas, it seems we were too late to prevent this.” Janus gestured at the crystallized Logan.

“It's not your fault, sir,” said the bear. “I was supposed to protect him from the White Warlock. And now I've got to go back and tell the others what happened.”

“That sounds like an excellent idea. But first, why don't you tell...” Janus trailed off, realizing the Remus—still silenced—was jumping up and down behind him and frantically waving his free hand. He released him. “Yes, what is it?”

“I know what this is!” Remus said gleefully. “Roman's gone and recreated the first Narnia book!”

“I never realized you were...into that sort of thing.”

“Are you kidding? With all the descriptions of war and violence and disturbing religious subtext? Not to mention a happy ending where everyone dies! What's not to love?”

“Even after all these years, you still retain the capacity to surprise me, Remus. However, I doubt the same aspects are what holds appeal for your brother, so try not to get too excited.” Janus turned back to the bear. “As I was saying, I think it might be a good idea for you to tell us what happened here. Who did this to Logan?”

“The White Warlock, of course, sir!”

“A warlock instead of a witch?” said Remus. “That's a new one...Roman usually loves fighting witches. He has this one recurring antagonist, the Dra—”

“Yes, Remus, we are all aware of the Dragon Witch.”

“Begging your pardon, sirs, but I think this Roman of yours is the White Warlock. That's the name the others called him back at the Stone Table.”

Remus did a spit-take. He hadn't been drinking anything, of course, but it was hardly beyond his capabilities (or his inclination) to generate something within his mouth entirely for the purpose of spitting it out. It looked like used motor oil. “Roman made himself the bad guy? That's definitely a new one!” He was grinning, but it was a rather fixed grin, and his eyes darted around under a furrowed brow.

“You said you were going back to the others,” Janus said to the bear. “Take us with you.”

Virgil, for once, felt genuinely useful: He had volunteered for the first watch of the night. Hushwing the Owl had shown him a tree he could climb from which he could scan the entire western and southern approach to the hill. It was a clear night and the moon was pretty close to full, and its light turned the snow into a stark bluish canvas against which any sort of moving shadow was plainly visible. Thus, as the ten o'clock hour approached and a large shuffling shape emerged from the trees to the west, Virgil looked not directly at it but at the silhouette it cast on the ground. It was definitely a bear and definitely had riders, one of whom was wearing a bowler hat. Good enough, even with the odd distortion of light and shade that seemed to sit between the forms of the two humans. He made the hooting call Hushwing had taught him which meant “Friendly approaching” and clambered down from his perch in order to go glower at Janus.

The climb took longer than he would have liked in the dark, and by the time he got back to the crown of the hill, the party had already arrived and was being greeted and offered blankets and a bit of warmed-over stew. Stoutpaws had apparently collapsed and fallen asleep right there on the hilltop...as Virgil supposed he would, after an entire day of running. Janus (ugh) was being helped over to the rebuilt campfire. And Logan...

Someone lunged at Virgil. Flight won, as it usually did, and he skittered backward several steps, only to realize that it was Patton he was flinching away from, and Patton was crying. “Shit...sorry...startled...” he mumbled, opening his arms and letting the Moral Side fling himself into them. He was shaking with sobs. “Patton...what happened?”

“R-R-Roman d-did something awful t-to Logan!”

The cluster of Narnians seeing to the arriving group parted. At first, Virgil couldn't tell what he was looking it—the object was translucent and oddly shaped, and moonlight and torchlight played over its surface and through its interior in ways that prevented him from focusing on its edges...until a chance flicker brought the details into clarity.

His head swimming, his thoughts useless, Virgil slipped from Patton's arms and dropped to his knees. He couldn't stop staring at it.

At Logan, frozen in crystal.

A murder . He was looking at a murder.

“Hell of a thing, isn't it?” said a screeching voice behind him. It was the sort of thing that ordinarily would provoke an instant reaction in Virgil (and that voice in particular would give a huge boost to Fight), but he was just too stunned. “As soon as Janus warms up enough that he's not going to drop off into a snake-coma, we'll all sit down and work out what to do about it. I can't wait to tell all of you my idea!”

Something in Virgil's brain finally lurched into motion, but all he could manage was a half-hearted glare back over his shoulder and a mumbled “What are you doing here?”

“Well, la-dee-dah, Panic-Depressive, I didn't know Thomas's Creativity needed permission to visit the Imagination.”

Virgil decided—to the extent that he was capable of deciding anything in the moment—that he could only cope with one atrocity at a time. He brushed Remus off and turned back to Patton. “Are you okay?” Patton shook his head emphatically. “Yeah, okay, dumb question.” In a way, Virgil was grateful for Remus's presence, since severe annoyance was usually a pretty strong barrier between himself and panic. “Let's...just...gather around the fire, so we can get our discussion going the instant De—Janus is up to it.”

They did. Janus sat on a boulder less than a yard from the fire, gazing rather glassily at it. The Narnians had given him a dark woolen cloak, and he had been engaged in an unsettlingly animalistic ritual: alternately spreading the cloth wide like wings, catching heat from the flames, and then wrapping it around himself to absorb the warmth. He glanced up, more or less, as the others approached. “So I assume you've all been made aware of the depths of depravity to which our dear Roman has sunk in his quest for...whatever it is he's questing for these days.”

“Roman's not depraved!” Patton said in a tone that suggested he had expected the accusation. He took his own seat across from Janus. “He's just...I don't know what exactly is going on with him right now, but he's not depraved!”

“Patton...” Virgil said, choosing to remain standing for the time being, “...he turned Logan into stone. There's no way to sugar-coat that.”

“It could have been an accident!”

“Patton...”

“It could have! He made a point of sparing Muricata's tree! I can't square that with the idea of him doing that to one of us on purpose!”

“Pat, listen. This?” Virgil mimicked the Logan-statue's outflung arm. “Is a defensive posture.” He started pacing. “Which means he saw it coming. Which means Roman telegraphed that he was going to do it, which means it was on purpose.”

Patton's eyes started to well up again. “I just wish I knew why,” he said.

“We'll be sure to ask him when he comes here to kill the rest of us in the morning,” Virgil said, rolling his eyes. “Who knows? He might even answer. The more important question is what to do about it. Can we change Logan back?”

“Ooh! Ooh! Pick me! I have an idea!” said Remus, who had been watching the argument between Patton and Virgil with the glee of an obsessive tennis fan. “When he shows up tomorrow to kill us all, I sneak up behind him and clonk him on the head! Once he's knocked out, primary control of the Imagination will automatically pass to me! Then I can make this story go my way, and I guess you can hash out your issues with Roman afterward or whatever.”

There was dead silence for a moment. Then Janus shifted in his cloak. “Let's make that Plan...” He started counting silently on his fingers, and manifested a few more hands to get to the number he wanted. “X. Plan X.”

“Can we make it Plan Triple-X?” Remus said, waggling his eyebrows.

“If we reach that level of desperation, I'm sure we'll be happy to let you do just whatever you want,” said the Dishonest Side. “In the meantime...something less drastic first, perhaps?”

“Logan's original plan,” Virgil said cautiously, “was to let Roman catch sight of you, hoping that it would shock him out of this downward villainy spiral he's stuck in.”

Janus looked taken aback for a split second, almost like a micro-flinch. “Well...” he said after a beat, “...far be it from me to question the soundness of one of Logan's ideas...” He let the end of the sentence hang in the air like an icicle.

Remus lost interest in the conversation and began searching the area for things to put in the fire.

“If it makes you feel any better, Scales, I was against the whole thing,” said Virgil. “But you're here now, and it's not like we have any other ideas.”

“Well, as long as I have your vote of confidence I know we'll do just swimmingly.”

Remus dropped a pine cone on the fire and giggled as it ignited with a series of explosive pops.

“H-hey, guys,” Patton said with a slight quaver. “Stop sniping at each other. This isn't about you two. It's about...well, all of us, really.” He swallowed, and when he continued his voice was stronger, more authoritative. “It's about Roman, and because it's about him it's about our whole family. We have to cooperate. Now then, Janus, if you're skeptical of Logan's plan, why don't you tell us why so we can figure out something else?”

Janus did his very best impression of a deer in headlights for a moment. Then he recovered his composure, cleared his throat, and said “I may have been exaggerating. Am I correct in thinking that the idea is to show Roman his idea of a villain so he presumably stops trying to be one?”

“Something like that,” Virgil mumbled.

Emboldened, Remus stuck a twiggy branch in the fire until it lit up and waved it in the air like a pennant.

“That's hardly a kind view of me,” Janus continued, “but I've heard of worse stratagems. Might I suggest a few...refinements?”

“Guess we can't stop you.”

“Virgil, be nice! We'd love to get your input, Janus.”

“Thank you, Patton. Remus! Pay attention; this concerns you as well.”

Remus, who had been on the point of touching the burning branch to his own hair, tossed it aside and plunked down onto a log, leaning forward with his elbows on his knees and his hands cupping his face. “Fire away, Jay-jay!”

Janus took a medium-long look at the ensorceled Logan, and began.

Dawn came all too early and with it, the bellow of a war horn. Startled awake, the Sides lurched to pull on clothes and scrambled out of the hillside shelter to see what they were up against.

At their previous meeting, Roman had been accompanied by an entourage. This time...he had brought an army. Perhaps five thousand strong, they massed around the foot of the hill, blocking off any retreat except by air...and the presence of Dwarven archers among the ranks ensured that any creature attempting to escape via flight would fail as well. The good Narnians, outnumbered nearly two hundred to one, clustered at the crown of the hill, facing grimly outward and wondering when the charge would come. The Sides stayed near the middle of the group at first, protected and almost entirely screened from view.

Roman, almost too brilliant to look at in his snow-white suit and icy jewels, detached himself from his throng and marched up toward them. “Showtime,” Janus muttered.

“Yesterday,” the self-styled King of Narnia proclaimed, “we issued an ultimatum to this company here assembled. Now we return to hear your decision and respond to it. Do you or do you not swear fealty to the Crown of Narnia?”

The Narnians, per the plan, stood firm and did not speak.

“We asked for your reply!” Roman snarled. “Where are my fellows? Have they abandoned you?”

“No, we haven't!” Patton said. The Narnians stood aside to let him through, followed by Virgil...and Logan. “And we're not surrendering either! You've taken things way too far, Roman, and it is not okay!”

Roman said nothing, staring dumbfounded at Logan. “You seem surprised to see me in my current condition,” said the Logical Side. “Your enchantment wore off after what I have calculated to be two hours, forty-seven minutes, and eleven point three four seconds.”

“That's impossible!” Roman shouted. “The transformation is permanent until counteracted!”

“Perhaps your control over the Imagination is not as absolute as you have heretofore assumed. Patton believes...actually, I will allow him to explain. Patton?”

“It's because you're abandoning your calling, Roman! Thomas doesn't want a wicked Creativity! Hurting your own creations for the sake of a story is one thing, but hurting us? You're turning into something that Thomas would never allow to be in charge of his Imagination!”

“Yeah, and it's really throwing a wrench into my plans!” said Remus, suddenly springing out of the crowd to Roman's shock. “What are you doing , bro? You can't be the evil twin! Because then I have to be the good twin, and I can't go shaving my mustache now! I just got it the way I want it! I don't even know how to be good!”

“You—! What are you all playing at?” Roman said, backing away slightly. He leveled a scandalized finger at Remus. “Working with him ...this is exactly why...but never mind. You will surrender to me—all of you!—or none of these foolish creatures you have befriended will survive the day!”

“I know you don't mean that,” Patton said softly “You didn't even really kill the Dryad's tree yesterday. You want to be the hero, Roman. So be the hero . Take off that crown, put down the wand, and let's talk.”

Roman's face became pensive. He was considering...no, he was listening for something, and then he stepped forward again. “You'd like that, wouldn't you?” he said. The wand swished through the air. The other Sides shouted in alarm, but no one turned to stone. Patton, however, wobbled, his feet literally frozen to the ground in a thick coating of ice.

The ice began to creep up his legs.

“Surrender,” Roman hissed. “Swear fealty to your King. Or watch him freeze.”

“Guys...” Virgil said.

Someone began to clap slowly, but the claps were muffled as if by gloves. Which was exactly the case. “Oh, bra-vo, Roman,” said Janus, dropping the Logan illusion. “You're finally doing for yourself. Using your power to take what you want. I couldn't be prouder.”

“You!” Roman gawked, even more appalled than he had been at Remus's presence. Then his face split in a grin of triumph. “Ha! I knew my enchantment hadn't worn off! Now will you yield to me, or stand by while Patton suffers a similar fate?”

“Yes!” Janus said with the merest hint of a hiss. “That's just the way! Show them all what you are capable of when slighted!”

“Shut up!” Roman said, and for the first time, his rapidly twitching expressions lighted on uncertainty . “Your input is not welcome here!”

“Clearly not; why I daresay you've supplanted me and Remus both with your villainy.”

“I said shut up!”

“Roman...” said Patton as the ice slithered up toward his hips, “...why are you doing this?”

“BECAUSE SOMEONE HAS TO!” Roman wailed. “Because you and Thomas lost all perspective...you invited him to the table...and all I wanted was a simple adventure where I knew who the bad guy was...and then it turned out to be me ! Even the Imagination started pushing me out of the hero role!”

“Pushing you!” Patton repeated. “So you don't want this!”

“And now you're even working with Remus! You'd rather have him on your side than...than...”

Remus made a loud scoffing noise. “Dream on, bro! For your information, I invited myself! They wouldn't have let me stick around if you weren't acting worse than me! Think about that , why don't you!”

“Roman, darling,” said Janus, approaching slowly with his hands up in a gesture of appeasement, “what makes you think anyone has to be the villain?”

“Every story needs a bad guy,” Roman insisted, backing away.

“That's not true,” said Patton, a mite breathlessly as the ice began to squeeze his chest. “What about all those stories where the conflict comes from misunderstanding? I think that's what's happening here. You're not understanding us or we're not understanding you or both.”

“Look, man, I get it,” Virgil offered, though his calm tone was belied by the constant reverberation of the Tempest Tongue. “I know what it feels like to think you have to be the bad guy. This is me, right? But we got over that, and we can get through this too. Take the enchantments off Patton and Logan and let's all figure it out together. You said yourself stories in the Imagination can take on a life of their own. That doesn't mean they're always telling the truth.”

“But, you know,” said Janus, examining his fingertips. “Your choice, Your Majesty.”

Roman looked from Virgil, to Patton (iced up to his neck) to Remus and Janus, to the whole of Narnia around them. His face twisted up into a terrifying snarl and he stalked forward once again. He raised his wand. Virgil put himself between Roman and Patton (not that there was much more that could be done to the Moral Side), but when he was only feet away from them, Roman suddenly flung his crown to the ground with a shrieking sob and brought the wand down on it. And in an instant, the wand was his sword (and always had been, they realized) and the blade struck the large diamond, shattering it into a thousand shards of ice.

Golden mist rose out of the splintered gem, coiling and flowing, and washed over Roman from his feet up. As it went, it dragged a second mist, bluish-silver, out of him as if plucking hairs by the roots. Roman cried out in pain as the power of the White Witch was scrubbed out of him by the power of Aslan. Both mists spun around each other until they reached a height of several yards, at which point there was a soft explosion and they rocketed away from each other. The Witch's power soared off in a northerly direction, while the Lion's made an arc and landed in the woods nearby.

The ice covering Patton fractured away, and he sagged in relief. “Roman...?” he said.

The Prince turned a plaintive look on him before collapsing to the snow.

[falloutboywife]

i want to start this off by saying i am infintitely grateful for all the support i've gotten while i was away, and i cannot express enough how much it means to me to know i have so much support during such a frustrating part of my life, even if i'm only showing you guys one part of it. i cannot tell you enough how thankful i am, and i'm going to respond to as many messages as i can tomorrow because this has taken a lot of time and energy for me to write and piece together emotionally

i definitely think the other week when i made that lengthy post about my identity and my place in online spaces may have been a bit of an overreaction, however while i've had some time to think about it on my own i think that just avoiding tumblr outright is causing me to become pretty insular in how i'm perceiving the entire situation, which isn't made any easier for me considering when i ask my friends who've been seeing it unfold what their opinions on it are, their responses have been pretty mixed.

as a whole, i think that being in online fandoms, as an outspoken artist (outspoken in this sense meaning redacted and fat kid fuckery, both shameful and heretical topics few dare to mention), tends to inflate my ego in a way i don't really find desirable. meaning people who are super kind and friendly towards me and who give me a lot of positive attention, while reassuring and definitely welcomed, tends to lean into people admiring me for reasons i don't really understand, and this can also end up trapping me into a certain role to fulfill in a community because of the kind of attention i tend to reward and validate, i.e. fat kid fuckery in my dms, which leads to the expectation of me being this sort of bastion of hornyposting where all evil (affectionate) thoughts are encouraged and endorsed.

on the other end of the spectrum, and if you know what i'm talking about then you know, i tend to attract a lot of negativity from people i've never interacted with or had any intention of interacting with, and this has been an issue for me pretty much the entire time i've used social media (me adding hornyposting as a facet to my personality is really recent, like i only started doing this late 2017 and i'm really tired of it by now but. again. it's what people expect of me, more on that later), and i'm not entirely sure how to make it stop. granted, when i was a lot younger, i was genuinely an asshole, but i want to stress a very important thing i think very few of my followers on here are aware of

i'm 28 and only just now aware of the fact that i'm autistic, and i was misdiagnosed with bipolar when i was 13 and because none of the treatment or therapy worked, i always thought there was something really wrong with me, so i couldn't actually learn how to cope with a lot of my problems in a productive way until recently. so yeah, i was a jackass when i was younger, and i can be a jackass in private sometimes when i'm under a lot of stress, but having this realization about myself is really helping me a lot on its own

and being autistic, people can think i'm annoying or obnoxious or irritating and that, juxtaposed with content or opinions they might personally disagree with, can make people very angry just inherently. i've spoken with my friends about how i can't seem to shake off any drama that i really, really have nothing to do with or any interest in, and the only ones who could really relate were other autistic people. my own friend actually told me that she thinks this is something i'm just going to have to struggle with my entire life, because even if it's not being horny or advocating for sexual positivty, i'm ALWAYS doing something that will piss someone off

(quick disclaimer: i know some of you are probably going to try to engage in bad faith arguments with me saying that i'm calling all my haters ableist, and if anyone tries to insinuate that this is the conclusion i'm coming to, i'm not only ignoring your ask but blocking you as well. i'm also not answering any asks trying to insinuate that i "need help" simply because of the type of fiction i enjoy, when the issue was HOW i was engaging with it, which i think i have made exceedingly clear.)

i think it's funny that me clearly being into waycest and clearly being into babystump is lost on people to the point where they feel they need to make callout posts "warning" people about the fact that i'm...openly and unabashedly interested in this shit, but the very second i say "actually i'm asexual but i'm glad you guys are so sexually open about yourselves and your interests" i lost more followers than any active campaign trying to cancel me, which is exactly what i fucking mean when i say this is what people expect of me

so i can't really make anyone happy in the current environment i've curated for myself because it is expected of me to maintain this personality and continue engaging in this nature of content regardless of my own personal feelings on the matter, because if i want to break free from it then i risk pissing people off. i also can't just act how i want or make the kind of jokes that i want or enjoy the kind of things i want anyway because simply by having a mental disability that effects how i engage with people socially, i am risking ostracizing myself by pissing the wrong people off and ultimately making things a lot worse than they otherwise would be

however. However. even if this is exactly how i feel, this isn't entirely a situation that is exclusive to this current blog, and when i said in the beginning i was taking this too seriously, i still mean that, and i think that my own personal problems with being in online fandoms stem from external factors that have nothing to do with this website. i'm almost 30 and a lot of my life this past decade has been very stagnant due to severe depression, with no real progress towards furthering my life in any meaningful way, and i think that what i was really frustrated with when i made that post was this very factor. in conjunction with this, i use online spaces a way to try to find an open and accepting community of people i can befriend and be myself in, because my undiagnosed autism has historically made it difficult for me to really socialize with people in a productive way that didn't make me feel like an outcast. i think a combination of the fact that online spaces are becoming increasingly more difficult for me to adapt to, as well as incresingly unfulfilling, adding to the lack of fulfillment in the rest of my life, was the subconscious realization i came to when i decided to make that post and take a break from tumblr for a bit. i'm frustrated that i have no fulfillment in my life, and i can no longer find it in online spaces that i used to enjoy and find so much meaning in

this being said, i'm actually doing shit with my life at long last. i'm enrolled in classes for an english degree, and i'm going to subsequently get an associates in creative writing that i'll be able to complete in a single semester after the fact, leaving me with two whole degrees under my belt that i can use in developing my future in the literary world. i'm taking my art more seriously as well, although i only post my bandom and lotr drawings on here, and i'm thinking of making an instagram account to start posting my art on there as well, as a sort of portfolio. i'm sick of this ongoing feeling of there being no meaning in my life, and i'm sick of feeling like i'm just wasting away and putting my mind to no use, and the immense joy i got just from seeing my class schedule for the fall semester made me realize that i am an intellectual, i'm an academic, and i'm in love with media and literary studies and this is what i find meaning in. this shit makes me so fucking happy and when i finished the picture of dorian gray the other day i IMMEDIATELY went on a tirade about its themes and symbolism just to myself and that, alone, was so fucking rewarding. i've been watching movies with my friend sweaterangst and just describing the themes of the horror used in the fucking texas chainsaw massacre movies made me feel so fulfilled even if he might have barely been listening LMAO i find meaning in seeking out complex and thought-provoking pieces of work and i

absolutely

am not getting that being on tumblr and talking about how i'm gonna let the fat kid deepfry me at the state fair (affectionate) (delusional) (severe)

with that being said, yes, i'm still asexual and i don't get fulfillment from purely sexual discussion, but i think i'm still gonna be answering asks about the sexy stuff so long as i find it engaging to a degree. i'm gonna start trying to use the guys you say as creative writing exercises because in the beginning that's what the fucking smut started as LMAO but i lost the plot a while ago and just let myself stagnate, like i said. i'm still gonna blog about bandom stuff but now that i have no reason to treat social media like it's all i have, and now that i'm breaking out of my depressed state in more meaningful ways, i think i'm gonna start blogging about a lot more things too and try to start having fun on this site again.

five nights at fat kid's is back, baby

[for-ests]

Love It If We Made It: Oikawa x Reader (Part 4)

1 / 2 / 3 / mlist

sorry for such the long wait babies,, i hope you enjoy the finale :) ps i tried to edit this as best I could but im super busy pls understand 

wc: 5, 194 warnings: smut towards the end  

You could never openly admit it, but when Oikawa had suggested bringing you back to his house, you felt all your previous what-ifs and worries disappear. Without a proper acknowledgement, the memories of you and your afternoons spent in his backyard playing volleyball filled your mind the entire way back to his childhood home. It had been years, it had felt like an eternity, yet it also felt like it was yesterday. 

Oikawa’s mother hadn’t aged a day. She was just as charming and youthful as before. When she watched you walk through the front door, her neutral expression switched into one of pure astonishment. 

“Y/N?” She gasped, immediately setting down the kitchen utensils she was using to come and embrace you in a warm hug. It felt surprisingly comforting to be back in her arms. She looked the same as she had the last day you saw her. Just as beautiful and just as charming, her features clearly reflected through her only son. 

“Rina-” You smiled, wrapping your arms around her just as friendly, like you had never spent a day apart. Truthfully, you were surprised--you hadn’t expected her to recognize you. 

“How long has it been?” She gushed, pulling away to get a better look at you. “My, my… You have grown into such a beautiful young lady.” 

“Hasn’t she?” Oikawa complimented, one of his hands reaching behind his neck to scratch it sheepishly. His movements were natural, as if he had discussed your impending arrival before. 

In the corner of your eye, you noticed them share a look. A look that could be considered indecipherable, but one that you could tell was of approval. You had known them since you were a child after all. There was a probable chance that Oikawa had mentioned your name a couple days earlier. 

“What brings you back here?” 

Oikawa answered for you. “She’s managing the Karasuno volleyball team. Isn’t that great?” 

“Really?” She cooed. 

“Yeah.” You grinned. 

“I didn’t even realize until I got there! Mama, it was crazy.” Oikawa chuckled, immediately clearing his throat once he realized you were staring at him with an unabashed expression. You had always found it adorable how much respect and love Oikawa had for his mother. 

“But of course I beat her team to spite her.” 

“I’m sure you did.” Rina chuckled, shaking her head in a form of apology for his ‘childish’ behavior. One thing that would never leave a man was their inevitable craving to win. Especially one that had been working all of his life to become the best. Oikawa had always believed he wasn’t born with natural talent, yet seeing him demand the entire court’s presence during your match was enough to make you roll your eyes. He was unbelievably talented. You knew he would go far with his gift. 

“Well, can I make you something to eat?” She asked, taking a step back and gesturing to the kitchen. “Will you stay for dinner?” 

You weren’t necessarily hungry, but when you glanced at Oikawa, the look in his eyes confirmed that you should agree regardless. It was obvious that his mother was keen on making dinner for you like old times. 

“Of course.” You bowed your head slightly, grinning from ear to ear at her enthusiasm. “I would be happy to.” 

Rina clasped her hands together in delight. Even Oikawa seemed surprised to see her so excited about something as simple as dinner. Unbeknownst to them both, Oikawa’s mother was just happy to see him bring home a girl. He only had one girlfriend before, but it was obvious that they weren’t going to last long. It had been to everyone, yet deep down inside Rina knew exactly what was going through her son’s mind. He had never paid attention to a girl like the way he had with you. 

And the only thing Rina felt like she could do to help her son win your heart was to make you feel welcome in their home. She just wanted her son to be happy, and it was obvious that you could be the girl to grant her wish, one who had always been there. 

“I’ll make a lot.” She said, already shuffling through the cupboards to prepare. “I know you must be hungry, Tooru.” 

“I am,” He laughed. “Thanks Mama, we’ll be back down once dinner is ready. Just text me and we’ll come down” 

“Yes!” She cheered. “Y/N, we need to catch up, okay? Tell me about the family and everything.” 

For a moment, your heart seemed to drop down to your stomach. You wanted nothing more than to tell Rina that your family was as content as ever, that they were succeeding in their jobs, and that your brother had successfully graduated middle school. But none of that was true, that part of your life was currently in shambles, and you were piecing it back together piece by piece. 

At least you had the Oikawa’s back by your side. You felt as if they were kneeling next to you, taking a portion of your burden and taping the pieces back together in places you couldn’t reach. 

“Of course!” You replied through the best smile you could muster, which wasn’t much. 

Oikawa noticed your smile lower. In reply, he set a comforting hand on the small of your back and led you down the hallway. It was his way of reassuring you that everything was going to be okay. Though his jersey still had a distasteful stench to it, you leaned into him. 

“You don’t need to tell her about your brother if you don’t want to.” The boy whispered once the two of you were out of distance, the thick walls preventing any sound from admitting down the hall. 

“I will.” You breathed. “Eventually, because she deserves to know. She was a family friend, and so were you.” 

He nodded in reply, finally twisting the doorknob of his bedroom door. “I can’t wait to change out of these clothes!” He said louder than needed, perhaps to deflect any suspicions that his mother might have about your demeanor. Yet, what he said was suggesting enough, and you flushed with embarrassment. 

“Nice one.” You giggled, reaching your arm out and smacking his bicep lightly. You were relieved to know that his mother probably didn’t know the extent of your rekindled relationship. She probably wouldn’t suspect anything suggestive to happen. 

Yet… why did you care so much? It wasn’t like anything would happen, even if you wanted it to. 

Taking a deep breath, you heard Oikawa switch the lock behind him. 

Entering the threshold of Oikawa’s room was like you had entered a different world than what you had remembered from before. 

It wasn’t a messy room, but it was cluttered. On the wall hung framed achievements he had been awarded throughout grade school. He even had a trophy shelf. The thought put a smile on your face, relieved to find that he was still the same competitive Oikawa you had loved years before. 

You heard him shuffling through his dresser as you scanned his belongings. 

His room didn’t contain much else, just the standard bedroom accessories. His desk was stacked high with textbooks and assignments. That was what originally drew your eyes to the piece of furniture. But what you found next brought potential tears to your eyes. 

The single picture he had decided to frame was one of you. 

“Tooru…” You breathed, voice immediately faltering. Without thinking, you reached for it, desperate to hold it between your fingertips. You remembered the day it was taken. You had been so overwhelmed to start eighth grade, yet for this picture, you smiled genuinely. That was because on your right was Oikawa, and on your left was Iwaizumi. In that moment, having them by your side meant everything. They had walked you to your classroom, proud of you for being accepted into the honor roll. They were proud even if it meant you would no longer be in their class. 

“Has it been there all this time?” You asked, feeling his presence come from behind. Shivers cascaded down your spine from his proximity, yet your eyes remained on the photo. You were shocked to find it, so shocked that you had been in his memory this entire time. 

What had ever happened to the three of you? 

Life. You squeezed your eyes shut, wishing you could hold the rest of your tears in. You had already cried enough in front of him. There was no need to cry about something you couldn't change. 

“It hasn’t moved for three years.” He whispered so softly you knew it wasn’t a lie. 

Setting the frame back into its rightful place, you turned around to find Oikawa shirtless. For a moment, you were dumbfounded. But ever since Oikawa waltzed back into your life, there wasn’t an emotion he hadn’t provoked from you. 

Possible questions were racing through your mind. Why would he keep that picture framed? Had he really been missing you all this time? If your face had been in front of him this long why did he never reach out to you? 

Despite that, no words flew from your mouth. All you could do was reach out and set your arm against his chest. Observing that picture had caused your heart to soften. He had framed it, protected and cherished it. Maybe not you, but at least the memory.

Your entire body felt tender, so tender that it would be easy to admit what was on your mind. 

“Tooru-” You finally breathed, your eyes flashing across the bareness of his toned chest. You wanted to look elsewhere but your eyes were drawn to him, your brain finally processing that it was your childhood crush that the body belonged to. 

Oikawa’s hand reached up and rested against your jawline, tipping your chin up. His hands felt like ice against your burning skin. Normally he would crack a joke, possibly tease you for being so flustered. Yet, he reclaimed the silence in return. He felt the tension too, his own mind trying to picture what your body looked like underneath. 

You needed him. You were gripping onto him by this point, almost begging for him to make the first move.

“I…” Oikawa faltered, relaxing slightly from your more than eager embrace. He hesitated, searching your eyes for an answer. “I kept this picture for all these years because I loved you. It felt wrong to throw it away, even if you were gone.” 

You blushed, finally flashing your gaze away from his hypnotizing face. Your stomach flipped with butterflies under the touch of your best friend—a touch that felt familiar, yet so foreign in its unexplored way. He had never touched you like this before, so compassionate; yet laced with hunger. 

Then, as you finally processed what he had confessed, your eyes widened. “What?—” You were cut off by his lips connecting with yours, engulfing your thoughts in complete and utter bliss. For a brief moment, your eyes stayed open, and through it, all your resistance disappeared.

You melted against his towering frame, succumbing to your desires. His lips mended perfectly with yours in motions that were so passionate you could hardly focus on breathing.

You clutched onto Oikawa’s arm to steady your weakening knees. His kisses became rougher, hungrier, more intense with each passing moment. You became drunk on the lips that you had waited so long for.

“I love…” You gasped, trying to pull away and accept his confession. “I love you too.” 

“Good.” Oikawa curled his arm around your waist and pulled you onto his bed. You fell on top of him, a giggle escaping your lips. Your eyes flickered back down to his reddening lips, his position inviting you for more. But like before, Oikawa made the decision for you when his hands cupped your face and brought you towards him. 

You had years of kissing to cover. And with each movement your lips made, your emotions heightened, begging for more, begging for all of him. 

Lips refusing to disconnect, you shifted positions until you were straddling him. Oikawa groaned in response, the slightest movement from you causing him to grow hard. Instinctively, his hands moved from your face and latched onto your hips. The boy grasped them tightly, almost pawing in hopes that your clothes would fall away that easily. He wanted to take you as soon as he could, infatuated with you from day one. 

You needed him. Every fiber in your being was pulsating for the urge to become one. The way he moved his hips in response to your contact relayed that he felt the same. 

Refusing to contemplate if you should for another minute, you broke away from the kiss, saliva connecting your lips to his. Blushing, you gained a moment to breathe, cheeks tainted with evidence of your current, sinful state. You wanted more. But was now the right time? 

Staring into your mystifying eyes was enough to give Oikawa his answer. Yes, the right time was now. “She won’t hear.” He whispered. “If you can be quiet for me.” 

You nodded, swallowing the lump in your throat. There was no way you could leave his bedroom without satisfying the sensual urge that filled every sense. You ran your hands through Oikawa’s chocolate curls, pulling him as close as you could, the make out session escalating faster than you ever would have thought. 

Crawling out from underneath you, Oikawa beckoned you to switch positions. You obediently laid on your back, trying to avert your eyes in embarrassment as the boy you loved helped you out of your shirt. As both top garments slipped off your body, you felt the lustful heat creep back into your core, stimulated by the simplest action. 

Having your chest exposed for the first time, Oikawa ravished the touch, letting his hands linger and brush against all the places you had never let him before. Even if he had always fantasized about doing so, nothing could compare to the reality. 

Feeling the hotness of Oikawa’s mouth against your breasts almost caused you to moan out loud. How were you going to keep quiet? 

“Shh…” the boy whispered against your skin, grinding his hips into your core for another distraction. He was enjoying himself as much as you were. “Be quiet.” 

The hardness in his pants ignited something deep within you. It felt heavenly, the sexual contact so foreign from his hands, something you had wished for just as hard as he had. 

But your breaths soon become muffled mewls of erotic pleasure as Oikawa bruised the sensitive spot on your neck. He moved his hands down to your thighs, rubbing softly and sensually. 

"I want to see all of you..." He groaned against your skin, pulling his head away to stare into your own lust filled eyes, searching for any sort of conformation. 

You were flustered, pressed entirely against his chest as he continued to play with your body. How could you say no? That’s what was racing through your mind as his hands snaked down your sides and over your panties. Before you could process his actions, you felt his fingers against your clit, fingers rubbing in soft, slow circles. 

"T-Tooru..." You pleaded in short quick whimpers, not wanting him to stop grinding against the incredibly sensitive spot. No boy had ever teased you like this, with such tenderness and care. 

Confidence surged through your veins at his touch, exciting you and sending waves of passion across your body. With the newfound feeling, you decided to please him back, wrapping your arms around his neck and pulling his face into your exposed chest. 

"I want you inside me..."You whimpered, grinding against his fingers to display just how badly you were wishing. 

"Fuck.. Y/N... don't say that..." Oikawa grunted, grasping hold of your chin to bring your lips back together with his. 

Despite the heated tongue locking, Oikawa continued to massage between your thighs, trailing under your shorts and past your underwear, until he quickly inserted them. You moaned loudly, tears gathering on your eyelids from how blissful it felt. "P-please..." You whined, gripping onto his shoulders as your clit pulsed with heat. 

The boy’s body was trembling just as much, the nerves finally setting in. All Oikawa wanted to do was please you, he wanted to do such a wonderful job that you were unable to think of anyone else. Though, no matter what happened, you would always think he was handsome, especially how apparent he made his emotions known, the sexual and the physical, his own composure coming undone against you. 

Moving your hands forward, you touched his toned chest, your fingers exploring and caressing every muscle you could get your hands on. Oikawa relaxed at the desperation laced within your actions, his breathing faltering for a moment before he grabbed your hands and forced them against bed. 

You stared deeply into his eyes, him doing the same. Take me. You pleaded silently.  Do it before it’s too late. 

The boy pinned you down, hovering over on one knee, not wasting another second to finally slide your panties down your legs until you were completely naked. You threw your head back at the contact of his hands caressing your breasts. 

"You're so beautiful." Oikawa whispered huskily. Astounded, he pulled away his boxers, revealing his own assets. Before you could fully take in his length, you felt his cock poke against your entrance. Bucking your hips in response, your movements caused your breasts to brush against his abs. The feeling of skin on skin was almost enough to push Oikawa over the edge, his member twitching in desperation. He had never felt like this before, utterly shocked by his devouring nature. 

He loved you. Oikawa couldn’t fight the attraction any longer. Now, there was no turning back. He had already resisted his entire life, waiting for the right moment until he was sure you could fully become his. He had put everything before you, yet now he wanted to put you first. 

Without another second to pass, Oikawa abruptly pulled your naked body to the edge of the bed and smiled down at your flustered cheeks. All this for him. No matter what had happened in the time you were apart, he still loved you the same. 

Though every subconscious thought throughout his teenage years had undoubtedly prepared him for this moment, he was still awestruck. Oikawa never could have guessed that he would have been in love with the same girl for his entire life, in love with you. 

“Tooru…” You whimpered, tone evidently conveying embarrassment. 

Despite the heat that pulsated between you and him, your legs unconsciously clasped back together at the sight of him, something you weren’t sure you could handle. What if you couldn’t please him? Everything you had ever wanted to do to him suddenly became a distant memory. You were frightened that he wouldn’t love you like he claimed afterwards. Exactly what had happened in your past relationship. 

"Are you okay?" Oikawa called out soothingly, even though deep inside he was embarrassed by your reaction. His cold fingers pried your legs back open so he could touch you lovingly, tenderly. He only wanted to appreciate you and everything you had done for him. 

“Yeah… “You nodded, wanting him to continue. Your thoughts were running ramped, wishing you could pour every emotion you had ever felt with him into this moment. You were going to move on from your past love, you were going to become a woman with the man you had always dreamt about. 

Oikawa kissed your inner thighs, leaving long and lingering sucks that made you squirm with pleasure.... It felt so nice but you refused to let out more than gasps, refusing to reveal your intentions to his mother, a woman you had known your entire life. 

Well, that was until the boy stuck his tongue inside of you.  

You gripped the sheets in panic, never imagining how incredible the feeling could be. "Oh my god..." You whimpered, throwing your head back at the sensation. 

Oikawa was simulated by your sounds, due to the speed his tongue licked and massaged against your clit. You grabbed his hair and pushed his face down harder, completely satisfied with how it felt.  Yet you couldn’t stop with just this-- you needed more. You needed all of him. All your worries faded into the background noise along with the crinkling sheets and low groan of your lover’s baritone. 

You closed your eyes for a moment, only feeling, only touching, only relishing in him. Your mind was filled with his bliss, his passion, his love. 

"Make love with me..." You panted, eyes pleading for the high only he could give you.  

Oikawa gazed down at your expression, his voice shaking from the pleasure. "Are you sure?" He didn't want to follow through with something you might regret, with something he could tell you had already regretted from the past with another boy. 

"Just do it." You moaned at the feeling of your region dripping from a mixture of your cum and his saliva. And at that moment, it was the first time you and Oikawa came together as one. 

"Tooru!" You cried softly, gasping in pain as his length penetrated your most sensitive spot. "Shit..." You cursed, squeezing his biceps for support as he slid deep into your throbbing cunt. 

Through desperation of a high, you pulled him closer, desperate to hold onto something to ease the pain of his gigantic shaft, burying your face into the crook of his neck. At your moans, Oikawa thrusted deeper, relishing in the sensation of your walls tightening around him. He couldn’t seem to catch his breath,  feeling on top of the world, feeling like he was in the dream he had always wanted to be in. 

"Y/N..." He whispered your name in a strained voice, the veins in his neck popping out. 

“Tooru…” Your breasts bounced up and down from his sensual movements, his ravishing desire  threatened to push you over the edge. Allowing yourself to be consumed by it, you could hardly feel him paw at your chest, tilting your head back as your body became limp. 

"Say my name again..."Oikawa groaned, his thrusts sliding deeper and his breath becoming heavier. "Nobody will hear you but me baby..." 

Oikawa shoved himself farther, and tears of pain and pleasure streamed down your face. You were so flustered that you couldn't seem to focus on anything except the sound of his skin slapping against yours, suddenly paranoid that his mother might hear. 

Praying that the door remained locked, you focused entirely on the moment you had been granted with your new boyfriend. All your fantasies were unfolding and you wanted to relish in them to their fullest extent. No more thinking about the past, he loved you the same, his consummation confirming as much. 

Oikawa slid out and back in, and with one swift motion you felt your body convulse. "Ah!" You gasped, nails digging into his bulging arms wildly. "Tooru... Fuck!" 

"Yeah..." Oikawa moaned, leaning down and resting his head in the crook of your neck. "Just like that baby..." He mumbled, the nickname sounding so dirty upon his lips. 

"Tooru...” you repeated his name as if it was a dream, as if he might leave you at any moment. “I love you…” You choked out between gasps, the pleasurable feeling building stronger and stronger below your abdomen. You couldn’t take the heat any longer, especially as he called you baby. “I’m gonna cum…” 

"Cum on me..." He groaned, knowing that it barely took anything to make you so weak and submissive to his touch. 

You moaned loudly, squeezing onto Oikawa with all your might as you released yourself onto his thick cock. "Oh my god..." You whined, the pressure finally fading away so you could catch your breath, despite your climax Oikawa refused to stop.

He wasn’t finished with you yet. 

"Fuck." He moaned, his forehead beating with sweat. "Keep moaning my name, I'll make you cum again." 

"T-Tooru..." You drew him closer, bodies moving together in sync. 

Your face displayed the sexiest, most alluring expression he had ever seen. Oikawa was breathless as he pumped in and out of you. He grit his teeth as the indulgence became unbearable, your walls contracting all around him.  

Oikawa loved you... he was lost in your beauty. He wanted to marry you, he wanted you all for himself. Was this what love felt like? He could really get used to it...

"P-Please..!" Your moans snapped him back fully. You were scratching his skin, wanting to burst at the feeling he gave you. "Tooru..." You bit your lip, gripping his wrists as he reached forward to pinch your nipples. 

Your breath hitched and you locked eyes for the final moment, you felt him twitch inside of you, his thrusts becoming sloppier and sloppier. Your eyes widened, your back arching against the bed as you climaxed together. "Pull out!" You begged. 

You didn’t want the penetration to end, but Oikawa pulled out at the last possible second, moaning as he coated your breasts with his cum. 

"Fuck..." He drawled, watching your chest rise and fall slowly. 

After finishing himself off, he collapsed on the bed right next to you, eyes closed, but a faint smile on your face. 

He leaned over to kiss you gently. You were trembling, but kissed him back just as passionately as the first. "That was amazing..." 

Oikawa exhaled in agreement, wishing this moment would never end. He almost forgot about everything that had happened. He really was lost in you. 

"Will you help me? It's dripping..." You whispered, wiping the liquid off your breasts with a tissue. Oikawa immediately shot up from the bed to hold you, cheeks red with embarrassment. "I'm sorry..." He muttered, refusing to look you in the eyes as he wiped himself off of you. 

"It's okay..." You  giggled, kissing his cheek. "I loved it." 

Loved. Oikawa’s heart began to beat faster, at this rate he could go for a second round. 

You glanced at your clothes scattered around the room. "Was it supposed to be that good? I never imagined sex could be that good..."

"So I'm that great huh?" Oikawa teased, slipping his hands around your waist and dragging you back onto his lap. The repeated skin on skin contact caused your heart to flutter once again. 

"The best I've ever had." You raised your eyebrows, scrunching your nose in response to the lighthearted chuckle that left his lips.  

"But in all seriousness." He touched your face lovingly, and you instinctively leaned into the touch, grinning at him with flustered cheeks. "I think it's because we are made for each other." 

Your eyes glistened with faint tears at the confession, a confession that would never be topped by another, that would resonate with your heart and soul for the rest of your life. Oikawa, your first and your last love. 

"Me too."

After a couple more minutes of lazy kisses and playful wrestling, Oikawa slipped back into his clothes and retreated to the bathroom. Eyes trailing his stalking frame, you smiled. 

Oikawa was finally yours, the one thing your heart had been craving your years. Now, the split through your heart was starting to mend. His touch alone, romantic or friendly, was enough. 

Your boyfriend came back into the room, laughing. “You might want to fix your hair before we have dinner with my mom.” 

Immediately flustered, you finished changing back into your outfit, straightening out any possible wrinkle that could indicate the passion that had just unfolded. You brushed through your hair with your fingers and applied some chapstick. All the while, Oikawa watched you from a distance, admiring the thought you put into your appearance for his family whether it was out of embarrassment or not. 

You had always cared about him. 

“You look great, there’s no need to worry.” Oikawa took hold of your hands, pulling you into his chest so he could envelop you in a bone crushing hug. 

“Thank you…” You chuckled, squeezing him even tighter in response. “It feels good to finally admit how much I love you.” 

Surely there would be moments where you would reflect on the past, yet, the turmoil was no longer at the forefront of your mind. 

Your previous suffering was all worth it in the end now that you had found your happiness. A happiness that you knew would last a lifetime. 

“Me too, Y/N.” 

You had made it. 

“Hi, Haru.” Your voice seemed loud as it contrasted against the silence of the graveyard. It was a chilly evening, yet Oikawa’s warmth enveloped your senses. You had never come to your brother’s grave with another. It never felt right to have someone intrude on the brief moments you would come to visit, where you would update him in hopes that he was watching your life unfold from above. Haru had been taken from the world far too soon, and now you were finally starting to come to terms with his passing, almost three years later. 

Staring at his headstone would never not break your heart in two. No matter how hard you tried, you would never forget his youthful face, a face that never held animosity towards anything. It wasn’t fair, it would never be fair. 

No child should die before their parents. 

But now you had Oikawa by your side, the thought of talking over your younger brother’s corpse was bearable. Oikawa insisted that he help carry your burden, washing away your regrets and instead encouraging you to think of the future Haru would have wished for. 

“You remember Tooru, don’t you?” You chuckled. “He misses you too.” 

Oikawa stood next to you, grasping your hand for support. He really didn’t want to watch you cry, yet he realized it might happen. Over the years he had only watched you cry a handful of times, you were normally so strong. 

“Haru,” You started, feeling Oikawa’s thumb over the ring on your finger. You smiled, using your free hand to wipe the tears gathering at your eyelids. “Tooru and I are getting married next month.” 

“I hope you approve.” Oikawa whispered, releasing your hand with a saddening smile. 

“Of course he does.” You managed to laugh. “I mean…He better. You always let him play with you and your friends.” 

Oikawa stepped forward and knelt to set a bouquet of flowers against the headstone. “I wish you could be here, kid.” 

Your fiance came back to your side and kissed your cheek. The hope that Haru was watching over you and Oikawa was enough to give you the courage to move forward. Another gust of wind rustled the trees above you, and through the commotion, came a bird to perch against Haru’s headstone. 

Your fiance grasped your hand once more and pulled you away from the grave. “I love you, and so does Haru.”

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[animerunner]

What Happened Is Not Right And That’s Okay (Chapter 2)

Ao3

Link to Chapter 1 Fandom: The Owl House Rating: T Warnings For this Chapter: Dehumanization, ableism, possible borderline gaslighting, and parental ignorance/neglect possibly bordering on child abuse.  Relationships: Eda Clawthorne & Lilith Clawthorne, Eda Clawthorne & Eda Clawthorne’s Mother, Eda Clawthorne & Principal Bump (additional relationships to be added as the story progresses. Summary:Living with a curse was never a simple task. And really from day one Eda knew it was going to be complicated. But she can't help but wonder at times. Just why hers has to be this complicated.

In short: An Exploration of what life might have been like for Eda growing up with the curse. AN: Hey there so what story is basically what it says on the tin. With some creative liberty of course.

Something to keep in mind is that this story progresses: 1. Explore Eda's character and others in response to the curse 2. Help myself explore and come to terms with my own Chronic Illness 3. Help educate others who aren't as familiar with disabilities on the realities of the situation. This one is important to me since the fandom can have an ableism issue. And I would like for readers to maybe take away why the use of certain tropes is a lot worse than they might realize. 4. This story is not meant to be either tragedy or inspiration porn.  5. I've only really begun interacting with the disability community in the last few years. So if I do a misstep its unintentional ignorance. Which I realize is not great either. I just want to make clear my intent is not malicious. If someone else who is in the community in some form be it Neurotypical, disabled, chronically ill, etc. sees something questionable within the story that comes off as unintentionally ableist please tell me. I would be happy to clarify if the plot beat was unintentional (and fix it) or somehow deals with the story itself. Which will happen sometimes. 6. Some of this is based on my own experience. Some of it is not. The parents issue this chapter is a good example of it not being based on my own experience. 

This story will touch on some topics that might be sensitive to some readers. I will include warnings . If your sensitive to the topic please keep that in mind before starting it. Also please bear in mind that not all chapters will have the same element. So while one chapter might have one issue, the other might not. A good example of this is an arc I will be exploring later in the story involving ableism in sports. 

For anyone who wasn’t around for the first chapter. This was originally inspired by @beckyarteest​‘s fic before it went off and became its own quasi multi chapter AU (I am bad at sticking to canon compliance): I'm getting old and I need something to rely on.

Anyways Actual story is under the read more. Ao3 link is at the top. Please let me know what you think!

One day turned into two and two turned quickly into a week. And after that with no real sign of the ‘curse’ resurfacing, Eda had actually started to think that maybe everyone else was right.

Maybe whatever had happened that day was just a one off thing. 

Unfortunately, reality had made that hope come crashing down just over two weeks after “the duel that wasn’t” with Lilith.

                                                  =============

Eda wouldn’t remember the moment that would properly change everything about her life.

Though, she guessed that wasn’t entirely accurate. Considering the biggest moment had happened a week prior was when she had been supposed to be vying for an Emperor’s Coven spot against Lily. The day of her first transformation.

However the incident in potions class, the moment they now knew this was almost certainly not just a one off incident like they had been hoping? That was the moment it became all too real for Eda. 

Even if it would be a while longer before it became real for the rest of the family. That was the day reality started to sink in for Eda. As it was the day that she knew at least to an extent that her life wasn’t going to ever be the same.

It would also be her first gateway into the many, many issues that came with the curse. Whether it be other people’s treatment of her cursed form, right or wrong, or just still having people take her seriously in the beginning. 

Something that would be a recurring struggle she would have to deal with in the coming years.

Much like the duel, she would only be told what had happened afterward. The entire time she was transformed she wasn’t even aware of what was going on. 

It was something that would over time become  associated with fear and worry. At the time though, for an Eda who was still in denial, it was more of a source of annoyance. 

Eda didn’t like that she had to rely on other people to necessarily do ‘the right thing’. Especially since in both instances so far it nearly hadn’t ended in her favor.

Thankfully of all people it was apparently Principle Bump who came to her rescue. Seeing reason when one of the other teachers had tried to suggest handing her off to the head of the Beast Keeping classes for the time being... 

Bump scowled at that not particularly liking the way this conversation was going, “She is still a student. A transformed one but one nonetheless. Unless she starts attacking someone there is no reason to be summoning Arden.”

Sure, he may not be particularly fond of Eda’s antics at times. Sometimes he wished that the entire Clawthorne dynamic wasn’t like how it was. It was a source of many of his headaches.

But that did not mean he supported putting Eda in a cage.

Even if she wasn’t in her right mind currently, she was still a student. And she wasn’t being aggressive. Honestly, this other form so far hasn't been aggressive at all. Though who was to say that wouldn’t change?

He was more than a bit concerned with how little they knew. However, there was one thing he was certain on: that forcing her into a cage would make things worse, not better.

Not that he particularly liked the idea even before you factored in the fact that they’d be caging a student.

“So what do you suggest we do with her then, sir? Leaving her out could cause property damage.”

Which, arguably, was more Eda than anything else. 

“Put her in my office and call a healer. Hopefully someone will know what to do to get her to transform back.”

“Sir, I must protest. Putting her with you could put you-”

Bump cut the other teacher off before he could continue. “I didn’t become the principal of this institution by sitting on my thumbs Marcus. I am more than capable of handling an unruly student. Even if she has been transformed into another creature.”

Not that he genuinely thought handling would be an issue.

                                                 =============

“So what your saying is neither of you can help.”

 Bump had ended up summoning both a healer and grabbing DeFrost anyway. Hoping maybe one of them would know how to solve their issue. 

 “I apologize, sir. But I’m used to dealing with minor curses. Things of inconvenience mostly. Under normal circumstances, I would refer this student to a specialist. This is way beyond my own capabilities to treat.”

 And of course, they couldn’t do that without involving the Clawthorne parents. Who he had tried to alert when Edalyn had transformed again. But they had both been busy and he had yet to hear anything from them yet.

 “And I’ve never seen a creature quite like this. Cursed or otherwise. I could possibly see if I have anything discussing something similar to Ms. Clawthorne. However...”

 “Most likely Edalyn will have transformed back by then.” Bump concluded.

 So apparently they were dealing with not just a curse. But a rare curse. Great. 

 Why was it that nothing involving the Clawthornes was just plain and simple?

 “At the very least can you tell me if she’s any sort of danger?”

 That way he could have his staff stop bothering him.

 DeFrost adjusted their glasses. “Well it's hard to say without knowing the curse or how it impacts her mind. But based on normal cursed creature behavior most likely she won’t be a danger to anyone unless she’s provoked. However there’s still a lot of questions there...”

 “Like what could provoke her.”

“Exactly.” DeFrost  nodded. “Sir, I know you said you could handle if anything happened but-”

“I can handle myself just fine Arden. I appreciate your concern but if I need your help again I will ask for it.”

“Understood sir.” DeFrost agreed reluctantly. Before taking their leave.

“Am I dismissed as well sir?”

“No. Actually I wanted to ask. I know you can’t help her return to normal. But I imagine the transformation back won’t be easy on her. Is there anything we can do to ease that at least?”

“Well yes. But that would normally involve the family…”

“I’ll handle anything that might come if they protest. This is already a difficult time for Edalyn. Let's not make it worse.”

                                                =============

Thankfully time really was all they needed for Eda to transform back. 

Though rather than answering his questions and possible suspicions. Eda’s return to awareness just raised even more of them in their steed.

“Welcome back Edalyn. How are you feeling?”

“Like an icicle is trying to drive a hole into my skull,” Eda said, wincing again rubbing the right side of her head. “What happened?” 

“I believe that you will probably want this, then.” Bump rather than answer the question slid the potion that the healer had left for Eda when she finally returned to normal. “The healers figured you might have one after you transformed back.” Bump explained as Eda downed the bottle.

Eda frowned as she put the bottle down again. Now that the pain was receding she could think a bit more clearly. And realize that she couldn’t think of a reason for why she would be in the office in the first place. “Back? Wait was I-”

“Transformed into that creature from the duel? Yes.”

“I didn’t even realize it,” Eda noted with a frown. Much like the last time everything was just a giant blank from right before she transformed. Which worried her on another level. Why was she unable to remember anything from when the spell, curse, whatever it was took effect?. “I didn’t hurt anyone did I?” 

“No everyone got out of your minor escapade without a scratch.” Bump assured her. Deciding to leave off the near incident with DeFrost and the cages for the moment. It wasn’t like he hadn’t specifically told them not to get the Beast Keeping professor involved. 

Eda sighed in relief. “That’s good at least.” 

“So you really aren’t aware of what happened after you transformed? I take it?”

“No, the last thing I remember is being in the potions classroom. And then waking up here. Everything between the two is a blank.” Eda’s face scrunched up in a frown. There was a bit of a tangible residue of some sort of memory. But she still didn’t know the relevance of it. “Mother’s going to kill me for missing class.”

“I would have thought you might be somewhat pleased by the new attention.”

After all that had been a reason behind some of Eda’s pranks over the years. Though sometimes Bump wondered just how much Eda realized this herself.

“Not like this.”

“Either way I’ll write a note. In the meantime you really should have a specialist check you.”

Eda winced. “That’s probably going to be easier said than done.” 

“If it comes to it, the same offer I made to your sister when she was being given difficulty by them I’ll extend to you. If you need someone to help you get seen about this curse then I can try to help you find someone that your parents won’t cause problems with.”

Eda winced remembering the fiasco that had been trying to get her sister her glasses. There was an unfortunate high probability history could repeat itself. She really hoped her parents had maybe learned. “I’ll keep that in mind, thank you Principal Bump.”

“Your welcome.”

Eda’s unusual politeness wasn’t lost on him. Go figure the most polite conversation he had ever had with Edalyn was because of a curse.

Maybe he should have tried a different tactic with the youngest Clawthorne?

Too late to fix that now he supposed.                                                 =============

Any small hope for Eda that maybe her parents would take it seriously when she got home. And not try to toss it again under ‘something else’ didn’t last longer than five minutes after her mother got home. 

“Clawthornes don’t get cursed.”

“But-” Eda began to try and protest. Absentmindedly scratching her wrists. While most of the pain had subsided with the potion Bump had given her, there were still some residual aches and pains from the transformation.

Just like last time in fact. 

“End of discussion. I will not entertain this absolutely absurd discussion. Let alone the idea of taking you to a specialist.”

Eda scowled, not ready to back down without a fight. “If it's just a spell then why did it happen a second time?”

“I don’t know Edalyn, maybe someone thought they should continue the lesson.”

Eda opened her mouth to try and continue the argument. Only to have her mother disappear through the door, slamming it shut behind her. 

“But I haven’t even done anything this past week.” Eda muttered to herself.

After the first idea of it being a curse had gotten into her head. She had decided to try and be better. The transformation had hurt! She hadn’t wanted to go through it again. 

So as difficult as it had been she had hung up her pranking supplies. For now at least until whoever was angry with her cooled down.

If this really was because of a prank. Then someone was really vindictive was all she could say.

Either way whatever caused it wasn’t really the problem anymore. It was figuring out what to do next before the curse resurfaced a third time.  

Normally she would have turned to Lily for guidance. But her sister was away at training. Meaning it was her against her parents. And she had no clue how to handle it from there.  

It had always been them against the world. Even when that world sometimes included their own parents. 

With the one person who may have understood their complex family dynamic gone. With her having no idea when she would see Lily again. She had no one to turn to. 

Sure, Bump had once said that if she needed help to come to him. But this felt like a bit of a reach. 

Maybe it was for the best to leave it alone for now. Maybe if it happened again her parents would take it seriously.

She knew that the likelihood of that happening was probably small, but what else could she even do at this point?

Her parents' reaction, while infuriating, was not entirely unexpected. And it was even less likely to change if her childhood was anything to go by. Since, if it was something that made the Clawthorne’s imperfect, then it was not to be acknowledged. Even if it impacted their own children. 

And if there was anything that indicated an ‘imperfection’ it was having a curse on a child. 

Titan knew how it had been a fight to get Lily her glasses. Eda couldn’t even begin to imagine how complicated things might be if this was something far more sinister than getting your sight corrected.

She guessed if she needed too she could try looking for care on her own. She was old enough now that she didn’t need her parents there at a healer’s appointment. But then again the fall out from going to a doctor when she didn’t have her own source of income.

Well it would be a mess. 

Why did this have to be so complicated?

[tundrainafrica]

Title: Division of Labor (3/?)

Summary:  

“The past years, we have noticed a lot of our fresh high school graduates knew nothing about responsibilities that await them outside high school and even college. Many students do not master budgeting, taxes, household planning, loans and we hope to raise a generation who can navigate the adult world without the consequences of bad decisions they are bound to make going in blindly…”

Paradis High school starts a program incorporating adulting into their curriculum and Hange and Levi are paired together.

Note: From request of @a-golden-hearted-snk-fan. See this link for the request

Other Chapters: 1 2

Link to cross-postings: AO3

It turned out Hange did think the housing plan through.  

"It's a rent to own contract...so after paying this certain amount of rent… within a number of years… we can own the house basically," Hange explained. Her preparation was evident in the wad of papers she had carelessly spread out on the table in front of Levi.

At first glance, Levi could not make sense of what those papers were. Eventually, by carefully scanning through the therefore, herewiths, in the events, the interest rates and percentages, Levi figured out they were contracts and manuals full of buying and renting policies of one particular real estate company.

Levi looked out the glass window of the booth of the quiet diner they had chosen to work in. He had tried to use the mechanical movements of the crowds on a commute home to at least help clear his mind enough to make sense of how exactly a rent-to-own contract worked. Levi was sure Hange was at least attempting to explain everything about the buying policies of the real estate company in layman's terms. Although Levi was somewhat impressed by the dedication Hange put into it, as soon as she started to talk about the policies and agreements beyond ‘we get to own the house after a while,’ Levi ended up spacing out. The prospect of spending, even if it was fake money, caused him enough unnecessary stress.  

He turned his attention to the two flour sacks who were propped by the window of the diner booth they occupied. He had purposefully turned their ugly faces towards the window at the small possibility that Shadis, Erwin or even Zeke were amongst the crowds of people walking through the crowds and into the subway station. A testament to their determination not to waste any unnecessary funds or worse, flunk the program

"If we catch you in public not holding your baby, you pay babysitting dues or you fail." Shadis had said in homeroom class that morning.

After some discussion as a class and with some confirmation from Erwin, the whole class came to the understanding that if they went out separately, they were in no obligation to take their babies with them. It could always be assumed after all, that their partner had their baby with them. Being in public with their partner meant someone had to have the baby with them or they risk pay necessary dues. At any rate, they found solace in the fact that if they were going to look like idiots holding brown sacks with shabbily drawn faces on them, they at least had someone to look like an idiot with.

Levi looked back at  Hange to see that she had not stopped talking. Levi was not too surprised, having the disinterested equivalent of a resting bitch face, he had to master the art of looking like he cared to get past most classes.  

“Where did you get these anyway?” Levi asked, interrupting the tirade of his partner. The answer to that question would at least be something he would be able to understand.

“The procedures manual and their company policies are available online.” Hange answered matter-of-factly. Levi noted how quickly she recovered from having her explanation of policy and business jargon interrupted.

As Levi looked once again through highlighted lines and messy scrawls, he felt embarrassed that he was not even halfway done with the design they had discussed the night before. He slowly brought out his folder where he had at least begun to draw the floor plan from the link Hange had sent him the night before.

“How has the floor plan been Levi?” Hange cocked her head to one side. Levi could not tell if she was provoking him or if she was genuinely curious about the progress of his work. Regardless, the way that she sifted through the papers under her, while looking pointedly at the roughly drawn floor plan on his hands had Levi self conscious.

It was Tuesday afternoon, less than 24 hours since she had bombarded him with messages. Less than 24 hours since she dropped a pdf file of the floor plan and went MIA, Levi guessed it was to prepare all the documents which Hange had just laid out in front of him that morning. As he compared his own progress to hers, he also became aware of one more reality, their first outputs were due tomorrow. Begrudgingly Levi had to admit, despite her naivete and overenthusiasm, Hange had a better sense of urgency than he did.

“I planned everything out already. I just need to outline it.” Levi said, trying at least not to sound as defensive as he felt.

“But can you do it alone? I didn’t sleep at all last night to get this done.” Hange looked more concerned than anything else.”

As Levi looked back at a skeleton of a housing plan that lay in front of him, he started to understand her concern. The house they had selected was huge and designing would take hours if he actually wanted to put thought into it.

“I mean even if we take out the 1800 from our budget of 3600 dollars a month, we still have to consider furniture and it might take you a while to come out with the pricing right? I guess we could leave out 1000 dollars for that….”

Furniture? Levi had stopped listening at ‘furniture.’ Somehow Levi had assumed that it would have been fully furnished when they bought it and they just had to rearrange furniture. “We’re buying an unfurnished house?” Levi had hoped Hange was pulling his leg.

Hange knitted her brows in confusion. “Did I say anything about a furnished house?”

                                         Division of Labor

“There are two methods of accounting used in modern day society: cost accounting and accrual accounting or as I’d like to call them: an idiot’s sorry excuse for accounting and actual accounting.” Zeke wrote the two terms on the board and plopped himself on the teacher’s desk. “Really though, why the hell do people still use cost accounting in modern society, it’s fucking stupid, barbaric, might as well go back to bartering…”

Levi had no idea what either of them were. As he looked around at his classmates, they looked as lost as he was about the mini rant that Zeke gave about the two accounting methods he had failed to define.

After a few minutes of ranting, Zeke finally noticed the blank faces of his students. “Okay Social Experiment.” Zeke cocked his head to the side. “Actually, let’s call it an IQ Test.  Jean stand up.”

“Yes sir!” Jean followed way too enthusiastically.

“You got the investment banker occupation so ideally you should be the most knowledgeable on money among everyone in the room,” Zeke continued. “You have zero dollars and I gave you 100 dollars right now. How much do you have?”

“100 dollars sir,” Jean answered.

“That’s a smart boy.” Zeke slapped his desk so hard, Armin and Eren jumped, having sat so close to the teacher’s desk. “Okay, so if I lent you 100 dollars, how much do you have?”

“100 dollars.”

“So, you’re gonna run away with my money? No plans of paying me back?”

Jean tensed up in confusion. “No sir. I’ll be paying you back.”

“Then is it your money?"

“It’s with me sir… So I think…” Jean paused for a second. “So it’s your money sir?”

“Tell me. The money is with you after all. Is it your money or my money?”

“It’s my money sir!” Jean answered too quickly, probably without even thinking.

“I lent you the money. I expect it back so it’s mine. Calling my money your money is practically stealing Kirschtein. I can call a lawyer on you.” Zeke narrowed his eyes at Jean for a few seconds before shrugging in defeat. “But you’re not a criminal. You’re just an idiot who relies on outdated accounting methods. Don’t take that with you when you become an actual financial advisor. Sit down. I’m calling someone else.” Zeke turned back to the class list on the teacher’s table. “Okay, anyone in this list with a finance related position...” Zeke’s eyes widened in surprise as he looked through the list. He looked at the class with a cat-like grin, his eyes focusing on one boy in the front row. “In my almost sixteen years of knowing you, I did not expect you to be suitable but it looks like you’re the only one in this list other than Jean with an accounting related occupation.”

“Really? It’s accounting related?” Eren had never been one to be good at Math. Everyone in the class agreed and as their professor hinted at his assigned occupation, many began to whisper, possibly theorizing as to what Eren had gotten.

They did not have to theorize for long though, within seconds, Zeke continued to discuss. “Okay Eren, let’s discuss your field of expertise --- insurance.”

Eren slowly nodded in return. It was a nod which everyone in the room had understood at first glance. Insurance was not Eren’s field of expertise.

Zeke did not seem to care though. “Case study time! I have 3000 dollars. Eren the insurance salesman sells me $200 dollars a month worth of insurance and I buy one years worth of prepaid insurance. By the end of this month, how much worth of assets do I have left?”

“By assets, you mean money?”

“Check a fucking dictionary.”

Eren sat down for a second. From his seat, Levi could hear some whispers from Mikasa and some clicks of a digital keyboard, or possibly a calculator.

“600 dollars.”

“Final answer?”

“Yes. Final Answer.” Eren seemed so sure of his answer.

From seeing Zeke’s face at the answer, Levi could not help but think, maybe phrasing it as a question was the better option for Eren.

“This is why your generation is so shit at saving. With this type of attitude, you‘re all gonna get into some shity Ponzi scheme with yourself and some sad saps who actually pitied you enough to lend you money without assessing your credit rating that’s just gonna continue riding on some endless cycle until you all go to jail or declare bankruptcy.” Zeke ranted again as he punched the buttons of the projector, turning it on. “ Scratch that. At this rate, none of you would probably even know how to declare bankruptcy.”

Accounting 101 . Those two words flashed on the screen, the contrast of black words in a default font to the white background of a hastily made powerpoint only getting clearer as the projector whirred to life.

“The amount of debt you can get into in the real world will fuck up your life. So to simulate the real world consequences of unpaid debt, we decided to make your fake debt by the end of the year one of the main determinants of your final grade. And we will be using real accounting to determine your debt. Any questions before we start?”

It was Sasha who raised her hand from the back of the classroom.

“Yes?” Zeke asked with shoddily hidden annoyance.

“So which one is cost and which one is accrual again, Sir?”

                                      Division of Labor

"I told you. I'll handle the accounting," Hange said. "We can make this work." Her words were not at all assuring.

It was Wednesday afternoon. They had submitted their selection for their house that afternoon in class so that meant no more takebacks. Their house plans were due midnight and Levi was not even halfway done. To add insult to injury, Levi was still reeling from Zeke’s lecture just a few hours ago.

Initially, Hange had suggested they buy the furniture in installments. The prospect of buying in installments though became all the more terrifying with the accounting system Zeke had introduced to them that day and the weight of a negative balance sheet on their grades.

As soon as you buy something and enter into debt, the money owed is not yours anymore. Levi shuddered as those words echoed in his head. He narrowed his eyes at Hange. "Really Hange? Can we? After deciding to spend half your salary each month on an unfinished 3 bedroom house?" Levi asked as he gestured to their next tall order that stretched over two aisles. They were in the baby's section in the supermarket.

It was their third round around that aisle, trying to look for a brand of diaper and a brand of formula that would not cost them a total of 400 dollars a month.

“I mean, we still have 800 dollars on groceries if we put our furniture installments budget at 1000 dollars a month,” Hange explained. “So if we spend 400 dollars on baby stuff, we should have 400 left.”

“400 dollars for a month’s worth of meals for a family of four.” Levi clarified. “There must be something here we could choose not to spend on.” Or maybe we could find a cheaper place to buy things in. Levi thought back to the supermarket nearer to his house and made a mental note to check it. The output was due on Friday anyway.

"Hey, Armin and Annie are here too!" Hange said enthusiastically.

Too enthusiastically. Levi clarified to himself. That was not at all good news. If other groups were going to that supermarket, that must mean they think they have the financial leeway to spend there, That could also possibly mean he and Hange had somehow fucked up financially as a pair, struggling to make ends meet. Armin was a studious student with a good head on his shoulders and he chose to shop in a more expensive supermarket. Are we spending too much?

"Let's ask Armin…" Levi did not need to finish his sentence. By the time, he looked to his side, where Hange stood or at least was supposed to be standing, the latter was already on her way to the blond boy..

Levi did not waste anytime. As Hange chatted up Armin, Levi made a few rounds through the two aisles again, his phone calculator on hand.

Just in case. Levi told himself. Just in case they had miscalculated the minimum expense of 400 dollars.

                                      Division of Labor

Hange had a long talk with Armin. By that point, Levi had lost count of the number of rounds he had made around the aisle. He had stopped counting at five. He had done his research on discounts and made some fake accounts and the expense still clocked at $390 dollars.

By the time he and Hange called it quits, the sun was setting. Hange seemed lost in thought and she had been that way since she had finished her conversation with Armin. Levi decided to take over keeping both sacks for the night. He made a small detour to the grocery store nearest to his flat. It was smaller, a little dirtier but it meant a little more room for spending and a bigger chance of saving his grade and graduating. Begrudgingly, sanitation became the least of Levi's issues.

He wrote out all the prices of the important items they had seen in the grocery store. When he got home, he made sure to write them all on a google sheet complete with weight, quantity and prices and sent the link to Hange through an instant message. For some reason, he felt a twinge of disappointment when all he received was a heart react in return.

Of course, Hange still had a lot of things to calculate. Even as they separated less than an hour ago, she had seemed distracted. Levi guessed Armin had told her something game breaking about the accounting process.

What did Armin tell you? You need any help?

Will explain soon. Send the meal plan and house design by 9 pls.

Levi managed to submit the meal plan by nine. He had copied and pasted from some random family cooking website, changing a few ingredients to fit what he thought would be cheaper options. He did not need to think too much of it either. He lived a life many would consider the complete opposite of excess and as a result, had mastered the art of improvisation when it came to food.

His main problem lay with the floor plan of the house. Hange had agreed to handle worrying about the expenses. That was one problem out of his plate.

Even with the money problem out of his hands, Levi found himself working until late anyway. Or not working… Levi was only reminded of his lack of productivity when his phone lit up with a notification.

11:00pm

Hange Zoe

Where??????

Levi only realized then that he had gotten a little carried away with the problem of where to put the washing machine.

                                 Division of Labor

It was a genius idea.

That Wednesday night, only a few hours before the house plan was due, Levi had had fifty tabs open from German and Japanese house designers showing bathrooms and laundry room designs highlighting the novelty and practicality of putting the washing machine in the bathroom. Levi had spent hours pondering the logistics of making it work for the house design Hange had sent him only for her to shoot down the idea an hour before the housing plan was due.

They rented an American style house with a bathroom in every bedroom and the impracticality had dawned on him particularly when it was fifteen minutes to 12am and they were still arguing in chat over how to design the house. In the end, Hange had gotten her way, having brought up the issue of accounting furniture and the fact that they probably did not even have the financial leeway to pay for a washing machine anyway.

Having to deal with the disappointment of losing the opportunity to design the house the way he wanted to and having his unfinished design shipped off to Erwin’s email, with little regard for the effort he had put into the intricacy of both the toilets and the laundry room, Levi was a little pissed. He also considered the fact that he had respected the effort and detail Hange had put into choosing a house and had allowed her to submit a potentially overpriced and unfurnished house as their final product.

And she could not even reciprocate the respect for his whims.

Levi decided then to take a break from it all. It was a silent agreement on both ends. Or there was no need for an agreement anyway. They had finished their deliverables for the week by Thursday.

Everyone had ended up cramming theirs anyway and Levi found himself walking home alone and spending his time outside school hours bingeing whatever was new on Netflix.

By Monday, Levi had not expected to do much. Their breakdown of responsibilities was due Friday, 12am on Thursday to be exact according to the file that Erwin had sent. It was a one page paper with a few questions that just needed answering. They could easily start on Tuesday or Wednesday.

Levi wanted to spend at least just his Monday, peacefully, not considering the program which has been plaguing the start of their junior year since Shadis’ announcement just a week ago. He allowed himself to clear his mind, making sure to just note on his phone to start on the next output by Wednesday. Hange would probably remind him anyway.

He had deluded himself well into thinking the adulting program was limited to those once a week outputs. An announcement was made to meet in the kitchen after lunch for home economics class. His mood that Monday had him living in complete denial of what could actually go on in a school kitchen and for some reason, Levi imagined having a lecture in the kitchen was a completely normal expectation, even with the reminder to bring aprons and gloves. Maybe we just need to put them in lockers or something.

As the students filed in though, some of them panicked and that was when Levi figured out that something was not right. The counters were all lined up with ingredients. Some of the students had recognized the ingredients. Levi looked to Hange to see that she was blank on what the hell the pattern was behind the types of ingredients set out.

There were the essentials--- flour, sugar, eggs. There were exotic ingredients Levi could not even name or pronounce.

“Cardamom, Star Anise, Rose water. What the hell?” It was Jean speaking from behind Levi.

“I’m glad you see the pattern. I’m assuming that means you’ll all do well?” Erwin waited while the rest of the class filed into the room before he raised his voice loud enough for everyone to hear. “Today we’ll be having a pop quiz just to make sure you all know what you’re writing when you make the meal plans. In the tables assigned to you, you will see the ingredients for one of the meals you put in your meal plan. Please use them accordingly to make a full course meal from what you had submitted.”

Levi could not remember for the life of him what the hell he had put in that meal plan a week back

[thegizka]

The Masks We Wear

ShikaTema Week 2020 - Day 2 - Masquerade

Anbu AU where Naruto becomes Hokage shortly after Gaara becomes Kazekage.

Genre:  (Implied) Enemies to Lovers

Word Count:  1699

Read it on Ao3.

Temari was a bit surprised to see him there.  It wasn’t because their first encounter had been a fight nearly to the death before he called it quits and escaped.  It was because she could see him.  The rest of the Hokage’s anbu guard were meticulously hidden and staying that way, but he was lounging in a tree as though wasting a lazy summer afternoon.

She knew he was skilled enough to hide undetected, so why wasn’t he?  Perhaps he was just THAT confident in his abilities.  She could begrudgingly admit that he was capable; he had nearly defeated her in their first encounter.  But he was above all a strategist, and there was no advantage to being out in the open.  If anything, it jeopardized his kage’s secret meeting by calling attention to this outpost.  Was he baiting a trap then?  For whom?

The questions baffled her, but she had the self-control not to break her position.  He remained nonchalant and out in the open during the entire duration of their kages’ meeting.  She’d be lying if she said it didn’t bother her.  There had to be a reason for it.  Perhaps Gaara would have some insight.

“The Hokage seems genuine in his desire to collaborate,” Gaara mused as the siblings convened to discuss the secret negotiations.

“Is he trustworthy though?” Kankuro asked.  “He’s been Hokage for what, two months?  That’s barely enough time to secure the trust of your own village.  Why is he extending offers of peace to us?”

“He is an earnest character.  I do not think he is setting us up for a trap.”

Temari studied Gaara’s face as he spoke, looking for the nearly imperceptible tells in his stoic features.  Something had happened between him and the Hokage when they fought two years ago.  She didn’t know what exactly it was, but he had earned her brother’s respect and trust, which was quite a feat when he almost never trusted anyone.  It made her nervous.

“Temari, did you notice anything outside?” Kankuro asked.

“Things were quiet,” she noted, “though one of his anbu, the Deer, was a bit strange.”

“How so?”

“He didn’t attempt to conceal himself at all.  He just sat out in the open the whole time.”

“That is suspicious,” Kankuro decided, echoing her earlier judgment.  “They’re definitely up to something.”

“Was he armed?” Gaara asked.

“He’s anbu,” she said.  “Of course he was armed.”

“But was he actively displaying or holding his weapons?”

“No.  He was just sitting there.”

“It could have been a gesture of good faith,” Gaara mused.

“You can’t be serious.”  Kankuro’s eyes narrowed.  Temari agreed with him.  It was too unusual for enemy villages to show such trust at the beginning of alliance negotiations.

“I wouldn’t discount it.  As I said, the Hokage is earnest.”  Gaara closed his eyes in thought for a moment.  “Temari, I’d like you to mimic the Deer next time.  Be visible.  Appear unarmed.  Try to figure out what they’re intending with this unusual behavior, but don’t provoke them.  If it is a gesture of peace, we want to reciprocate.”

“You’re asking your sister to expose herself to what could very well be an ambush by enemy anbu,” Kankuro reiterated, not looking happy.

“Yes, but I know she can handle it.  And in case things do turn against us, I want you there to back us up.  Baki can watch the village in our absence.”

“He won’t like this plan,” Temari warned.

“He never likes our plans,” Kankuro grumbled.

“But he never says no to us, either,” Gaara concluded with something like an amused grin.

-----

A month later, Temari was back behind her mask accompanying her brothers and a handful of their anbu to another meeting.  They arrived before the Konoha delegation, which allowed them the advantage of choosing their positions around the little outpost which served to shelter the kage while they negotiated.  Kankuro checked that the building itself was secure before taking up his position in the shadows.

“Be careful,” he whispered from behind his mask before disappearing somewhere along the perimeter.  It felt wrong not to follow him into obscurity, to remain standing and visible beside Gaara where all advantage of surprise was lost.  But this was her mission, and she was anbu.  She was focused and ready to do her duty.

The Hokage arrived a few minutes after they had settled into their positions.  He paused at the other end of the clearing, and she had a chance to look at him straight on.  He was the same age as Gaara, remarkably young for a kage.  He also seemed unguarded and relaxed.  Perhaps that was the earnestness that Gaara kept mentioning, or maybe it was naivete.  She wondered if it was genuine or a practiced presentation.

Gaara stepped forward to greet him.  The Hokage said something to the Deer who was hovering at his shoulder before advancing to reciprocate the greeting.  The two leaders headed into the shelter to negotiate in private.  Temari wasn’t pleased with her brother going one-on-one with another kage, but both parties had deemed the current level of privacy necessary to these early stages of their alliance, so she remained where she was.

The Deer crossed his arms and leaned against a tree on the other side of the small clearing.  He looked relaxed, but she could feel him studying her.  She crossed her arms as well but chose not to lean against anything.  Her reaction time would be marginally faster if she remained balanced on the balls of her feet.

“It’s been a while,” he said after a long silence.  She didn’t say anything in return, allowing him to lead the direction of the conversation.

“We battled, what, three years ago?  A lot has happened since then,” he continued.

She watched his body language for hints of his intentions, but he appeared fully relaxed.  She expected no less from a rival anbu.  Temari thought of Gaara’s encouragement to use this as a chance to find out the Konoha delegation’s intentions.

“Are you still a crybaby?” she asked.  His head tilted slightly.  She had surprised him by replying.

“How do you mean?”

“Last time we fought, you turned tail and ran like a crybaby.”

“That’s not exactly how I’d describe it.”

“But you did run.”

“There are many reasons why running could be advantageous.”

“That doesn’t make you look less like a crybaby.”

“Do you usually insult new allies?”

“We’re not actually allies.”

“Aren’t we?”  He tilted his head curiously.  “We’re here for the same purpose.”

“A deer and a wolf may both go to a river to drink, but only a fool would consider them allies.”

“Are you a wolf?”  He pushed himself upright.  She could feel the weight of his scrutiny.

“Perhaps you’re the wolf disguised as a deer.”

“That level of deception is too troublesome.  I prefer to be straightforward.”

She didn’t fully believe him.  He was anbu, after all.  Half of their missions depended on deception.  But he hadn’t told her anything significantly unreliable, and his current behavior matched what she remembered from their previous encounters.  She didn’t believe that he was without a secondary motive, but he hadn’t given her reason to think it was antagonistic.  Perhaps he was being earnest enough to warrant some trust.

“If you prefer straightforwardness, why are you anbu?” she asked.  He shrugged.

“It’s the best way to protect the future I want to make happen.”

“Is it the future the Hokage is working toward?”

“He is a critical part in it.”

Temari thought that was an odd way of saying yes.  His voice indicated amusement, but his words gave the Hokage a passive role as though he were simply a part in the Deer’s plan.  Was he trying to manipulate his kage and take power, or were they simply working toward the same goal?

“Why are you anbu?” he asked, interrupting her contemplations.  Normally she would deflect, but his honest answer had earned reciprocation.  She would just have to choose her words carefully.

“I believe in the Kazekage and what he’s working towards.  Being anbu allows me to best serve him.”

“So we have the same goal,” he concluded.  “We should be allies.”

“Assuming our kages are in agreement.”

“That’s what these meetings are for, right?”

“I suppose they are.”

-----

When she met with her brothers to debrief after the negotiations, she gave them her honest judgment.

“I think they’re genuine.  I’m not ready to set aside all of my suspicions, but if this Hokage is as earnest as you say, he’s won over his anbu already.  The Deer, at least, seems committed to an alliance with us.  There was no aggression to our interactions.”

“Kankuro, what did you think?”

“There was no move to provoke us.  Their anbu were respectful of our positions around the perimeter and didn’t cause suspicion.  I wouldn’t invite them over yet, but I could see us getting along well enough to work with them.”

“Good.”  Gaara’s mouth turned upwards in a light smile.  Temari was still getting used to these smaller expressions of his.  “I would like to move forward with the next step in our alliance.  Temari, since you’ve started building a rapport with them, I’d like you to be the main messenger and representation for us.”

“I’d hardly call a fight and a conversation with one of their anbu much of a rapport,” she said.

“It’s all we have to work with right now.”

“I’ll do it, of course.  But I’m sure Baki won’t be pleased about this.”

“I’m not too happy with it either,” Kankuro grumbled.  “Kidnapping the Kazekage’s sister could provide a lot of leverage to our enemies.”

“You’re just upset that I get to leave the village and you’re stuck here helping Gaara with administrative work,” she teased.

“Whatever.”

The following night, Temari donned her anbu mask and took off in the direction of Konoha carrying a sealed letter formally requesting an alliance with the Land of Fire.  She felt the weight of Gaara’s hopes in it.  Those were her hopes too.  She thought of the Deer and wondered whether his hopes aligned with theirs.  She was looking forward to finding out.

[qlala]

Thoughts abt coldwestallen?? Honestly I love them and wished we had more of their interactions :// I genuinely feel like iris and leonard are similar in lots of ways tbh despite the whole moral thing yknow

I LOVE!!! coldwestallen!!!! I’ve been working on a fic for them on and off for a couple months, it’s about 30k right now which is my longest yet! honestly the reason it’s taking so long is because I’m being such a perfectionist about it, I really really like it and so I want to really do it justice and not cut any corners. (this is, incidentally, the same thing I did with ‘those three words’—I think my first big contribution to a ship is something I’m always gonna overthink)

and I’m right there with you about wishing we’d been able to see more of them on the show! Iris only gets to interact with Leonard in two high-stress situations (Leonard breaking into Joe’s house to warn Barry about the ambush, and when she’s literally hours away from dying in “Infantino Street”) and even then there’s sooo much there, like wow what I wouldn’t give for just one scene of them of them working together under lower stakes. 

I’m gonna flag an abuse mention tw for rest of this answer, because I think Leonard’s past deeply informs the interaction we get between Leonard, Iris, and Barry in “Running to Stand Still.” I won’t be going into detail, but I do want to discuss it a bit, so heads up for that!

I’ve seen people give Iris a lot of unfair grief for saying “Everyone in this room had a rough childhood” to Leonard in “Running to Stand Still,” but it’s important to remember that she wasn’t there for “Family of Rogues.” Cisco is actually the only member of Team Flash that has anywhere close to the full picture of the abuse Leonard and Lisa suffered growing up; he’s the one Lisa tells about the “lessons,” and Leonard protecting her. I think giving Iris that line was a bad piece of writing, but not unjustifiable; she’s in direct physical fear for her life (she has no reason to trust Leonard the way Barry does—not that he really has good reason either lmao) and Leonard is baiting her into reacting a certain way. 

because I love to read Leonard’s line before that—”Didn’t Barry tell you? I had a rough childhood”—as being an intentionally flippant comment because he’s deeply uncomfortable that Iris is there. it’s clear from everything about his body language in the scene that it’s not going the way he expected; I think Barry is far angrier than Leonard anticipated finding him, and he has no idea what kind of variable Iris is. I mean, he barely looks at either of them the entire scene. he’s wildly out of his comfort zone, and quite frankly, it goes terribly from the get-go.

so when he says that line, he makes it sound like he’s mocking Barry for believing that his childhood had anything to do with how he is as an adult. (it did, of course; Leonard admits as much in “Infantino Street,” when he says to Barry, “Always known you had the potential to be ruthless as they come. Your history made sure of that, same as mine.”) Leonard prefaces it with “Didn’t Barry tell you?” because he doesn’t know how much Barry told Iris, and that bothers him. he’s not in control of his own narrative. Lisa was the one who told Barry about the abuse, after all, not Leonard, and that’s a deeply, deeply personal thing to have someone find out about him through a third party, even if it was Lisa.  

and I think Leonard hates the fact that the story is out of his control. using it as a prop that he knows Iris will knock down is his way of trying to reassert some of that control. he’s baiting her, and it works—Iris does exactly what he hopes she will, discards his “rough childhood” from the conversation with that equally biting remark, “Everyone in this room had a rough childhood,” and just like that, Leonard’s ensured that Iris will neither pity him nor see him as vulnerable because of his abuse. so uh, score one for Leonard! unless we’re talking about confronting your trauma. in which case, score zero for Leonard.

I really would’ve loved to see any discussion of that conversation after the fact. there’s no way Iris wouldn’t realize what had happened; she has such high emotional intelligence and empathy, I think she would’ve been pretty pissed with herself later, as well as annoyed with how easily Leonard got under her skin that. I mean, he provoked her into a pretty wildly out-of-character bit of insensitivity; she’s not going to be able to make fun of Barry for getting all out of sorts whenever Leonard is around anymore. 

which is a ship dynamic I love. one emotionally unavailable, affection-starved asshole who’s wary of changing but ready to try anyway, versus two very emotion-forward heroes who are nonetheless extremely easy to wind up? amazing. pair that with what you said, anon, about Iris and Leonard being similar in a lot of ways—they’re natural strategists, they’re intuitive, they have very little shame about going after what they want, and they have a weakness for pretty boys who are the opposite of all those things—and there’s really nothing I don’t love about this ot3. 100/10, they’re fantastic