#i forgot how much moving absolutely destroys my sense of order

[prince-everhard]

Weekly Oneshot Challenge - week 12

Title: Timorous Fandom: Naruto Rating: gen Word count: 1725 Summary: Sakura learns a new skill while on their mission to Wave. [part of the mokuton sakura rewrite]

Sakura was so exhausted that she felt like she could sleep through a circus without waking. But apparently her body had other ideas. She woke but laid still, silent and still tired, as the boys stumbled in from training and collapsed into their bedrolls. She wrinkled her face; at least she’d thought to take a quick shower after working up a sweat. The boys either weren’t as thoughtful or just that tired. She rolled over and pressed her face against the pillow, trying to block out the smell of boy that permeated the room. 

She was almost asleep again when something drew her out of her half-doze. Someone was in the room. Someone was in the room. They were quiet, professionally so. But their presence still woke Sakura. She swallowed, fighting to keep her breathing even as she just barely cracked open an eye.  Her heart rate settled a little when she realized that it was just Kakashi-sensei. Still, she hated feeling like this- all jumpy and tense. The mission was getting to her, making her feel paranoid and jittery. She raised her head off the pillow to glare at Kakashi-sensei. What was he even doing? 

He seemed surprised to see her awake; between his mask and the shadows and her own exhaustion, Sakura couldn’t tell what his expression was. But it seemed like surprise. He raised a finger to his lips. Sakura flopped her head back down on the pillow, too tired to even care. By the time Kakashi-sensei left the room, she was already asleep once again.

By morning Sakura had woken up about ten more times, and she was feeling more tired and irritable than ever. At least Sasuke and Naruto were also as tired as she was, so breakfast was a quiet, subdued affair. Sakura noted dimly that this was the quietest she had ever seen Naruto.

Kakashi-sensei seemed to have a sixth sense when it came to the team, because as soon as they finished breakfast he shooed the boys back to the woods to train some more. Sakura helped Tsunami clean up the table before she looked expectantly at sensei. Well, as expectantly as anyone could when they were that tired. She knew Kakashi-sensei had been guarding Tazuna while everyone else had been practicing (or napping, in her case). The threat was still out there. Sakura thought about Zabuza and tried not to shiver.

Sixth-sense-sensei only smiled at her, his visible eye creasing. “You seem tense, Sakura.” He moved a little closer, just enough so that he could speak without anyone overhearing. “Is everything alright? You know sensei is here if you need to talk.”

“I-” What could Sakura say? She was tired, and terrified. Zabuza was still out there. Gato was still out there. They were miles away from home on a mission, in way over their heads, and she was barely even able to walk up and down a tree without feeling like she’d run three marathons in a row. Could she even tell Kakashi-sensei all that? She was a ninja now. She’d earned her headband and graduated and was considered an adult by the village. And yet- Sakura had always been a bit of a teacher’s pet. This was Kakashi-sensei at his most focused and earnest. “I’m scared, sensei.”

Kakashi-sensei just reached out and tousled her hair. She scowled, swatting at his hand, until she was sufficiently too annoyed to be as upset, and then he withdrew. “Someone very wise once told me that bravery isn’t the lack of fear; it’s more pushing through your fear to do what you have to anyway.” Sakura halted her motions of smoothing out her hair, instead looking at her sensei with wide eyes. “Can you be brave for the mission and join me for guard duty today?”

Guard duty. Guard duty with that Demon of the Mist out there. Sakura swallowed. I’m a ninja now. “Yes, Kakashi-sensei.”

After a few full days of guard duty, Sakura’s nerves had managed to wear themselves out and left her feeling less scared and more bored out of her freaking mind. The construction workers were nice enough, and treated her less like a kid and more like an adult than she’d expected, but they were too busy during the day to do much more than greet her and Kakashi-sensei when they arrived. Lunches were kinda nice, because even if she wasn’t involved in the conversation at least it was something other than the bleak landscape to pay attention to. It was about an hour after lunch on their fourth day of guard duty that Kakashi-sensei finally turned to Sakura and said, “Well, is my favorite student ready for her prize from tree-walking?”

Honestly, Sakura had been first too tired, then too paranoid, to really think about the fact that she’d won the tree-climbing exercise. But now, absolutely bored and her fear dulled by time, Sakura was curious. “Yes, Kakashi-sensei. What is it?”

“Follow me,” he said simply, before moving to one of the support beams of the bridge and using his chakra to walk down it.

Bah. Of course Kakashi-sensei would make this as difficult as possible. Sakura went over to the edge of the bridge and peered down. Sensei was casually walking down the support beam, his nose stuck in that stupid book of his. This wasn’t like walking up the tree, where when she switched from vertical to horizontal there’d only be a few inches to fall. From her position to the top of the water below seemed incredibly far down. But- sensei seemed to think she could do it. 

Carefully, Sakura sat down on the edge of the bridge. She planted her feet on the side of the beam and pooled her chakra at the bottom of her feet. Still gripping the edge of the railing, she leaned forward until her arms were straining to hold on but her feet were more under her body. Like a gargoyle jutting out from a castle from one of those medieval movies her dad liked to watch. Thinking about her dad made Sakura smile, and a little of the nervousness left her body. She uncurled her fingers from the top of the bridge and leaned her torso forward until she was a straight line, walking down the beam like she’d done it a million times. Thanks, dad. 

Sakura was so concentrated on her descent that she just barely managed to catch a glimpse of some unknown expression on Kakashi-sensei’s face; she looked up from her feet right as she reached the bottom and righted herself. Whatever it was vanished, replaced with the sort of knowing bemusement she associated with sensei normally.

“Your prize is exactly what the village will expect from you: for learning a new skill, I’m going to teach you another more difficult skill.” Sakura tried not to let the sudden crushing wave of disappointment do more than wash over her. Of course it wasn’t a real prize. This was Kakashi-sensei, after all. Kakashi deliberately backed away from her, closer and closer to the edge of the shore, until he was walking on the top of the water. He wanted her to water walk? Sakura blinked. “I’m sure you can figure it out.” And suddenly his expression, his tone, his whole demeanor was so sharply serious. “Show me that analytical mind that should have taken top spot in the Academy.”

By nature, Sakura wasn’t very competitive. She knew her skills, knew what she was good at, knew so much more than people expected from a little girl with pink hair. But losing out on top student at the Academy- to Sasuke, who was cold and a jerk and still hadn’t figured out tree-climbing- stung right down to her core. She could do this better than him.

She could do this.

Sakura gathered chakra at the soles of her feet. Walking on water was at once both easier and harder than walking up the tree. The tree was stationary, where water moved and rippled. But the water didn’t have chakra like the tree did, and she wouldn’t have to attempt this at a ninety degree angle. Sakura placed a single foot on top of the water, pushing against it with first her foot, then her chakra. It was… weird, she decided. The water gave just like a liquid should when she pushed with just her foot. But making her chakra into a barrier between her foot and the water made it almost like she was trying to step onto a stream-slick rock, or a floating trunk. It wasn’t quite solid or liquid, but something in-between with just enough solidity to stand on. 

Carefully, Sakura shifted her weight from her foot on the shore to her foot on the water. She felt her body move when the water moved. I hope I don’t get seasick, she thought as another little wave bobbed her up and down. She wobbled- throwing her arms out for extra balance once again. One foot didn’t give enough stability, and she quickly pulled her other foot onto the water. 

She’d done it. “Kakashi-sensei! I did it!” She turned to beam up at him and just barely saw the kunai that he flung her way. He just- why would he- panicked, Sakura lost her concentration and plunged into the cold brackish water. Her eyes stung but she managed not to swallow any water, instead recovering even quicker than she would expect of herself and kicking her way to the surface. Soaking wet and miserable, Sakura directed chakra to her hands and knees to pull herself onto the water’s surface.

Kakashi-sensei reached a hand down to her, his visible expression looking a little smug. “You did it. Now we work on your need to concentrate.”

Sakura took the hand he’d offered her. Sensei really was a throw-them-in-the-deep-end kind of teacher. He wouldn’t think this was funny if he was the one getting dunked… the thought crossed Sakura’s mind and she didn’t even give herself time to doubt. She grabbed onto his hand and yanked. He’d been braced to help her up but she guessed he wouldn’t expect her to throw her whole weight into the water to drag him down too.

Even falling into the cold water again was worth the shocked spluttering as Kakashi-sensei surfaced from the water with her.

[branwendaughterofllyr]

Do people really believe the Dance of Dragons 2.0 being between Cersei and Aegon? Even as an opponent, Cersei is doomed and not in a "she is a tragic character' but the fact that she is so isolated. How can you engage in a war when the army loyal to your house is scattered in Riverlands, Mace moving the Tyrell army to Dragonstone, Jaime going MIA and on top of that being hated by the very people you are supposed to rule. Not only does she lack the PR but she also lacks the might. Unless she pulls a Stannis and engages in some sorcery, I just don't see any competition between her and Aegon. Even the wildfire stunt is going to backfire. The fact that in the show she still held power even after blowing up the Westerosi Vatican is bullshit. Most of Cersei's political arc in Kings Landing after the Season 6 finale is basically Aegon's. Competitively ruling Kings Landing, having the support of Faith( which didn't make sense in the show after Cersei blowing up Sept of Baelor), the Tarlys turning against their Liege and supporting the crown( Maybe there will be other Reach houses as well who might join Aegon. Connington's "friends in the Reach" remark might be alluding to this and later getting murdered during the second Sack of Kings Landing like his sister and mother) On top of that Cersei's arc is self destructive and why are people hung up on X,Y or Z character trying to defeat and overthrow her when she is brilliantly doing it herself. I think that most of the time this theory is borne through readers trying to erase any culpability of destruction that D@ny and her dragons might heave on Westeros and especially Kings Landing and how unpopularly she and her army might be perceived by the Westerosi.

(sorry this took so long to answer, it’s been sitting in my drafts and I kinda forgot about it)

Hmmm, I can't say that I've personally seen anyone assert that the Dance 2.0 is going to be between Cersei and Aegon, but I'm also not too surprised, considering that there is a large contingent of people who think that KL is going to blown up by Jon Connington, which is certainly A Take. 

And I absolutely agree that a lot of Cersei’s show arc seems to have been cobbled together from Aegon’s, just like Dany’s! The amount of emphasis that certain houses, like the Tyrells and the Tarlys, had been loyal to the Targaryens in the Rebellion, and that they are in key strategic positions, while Aegon is making headway into the Stormlands? And I can see the Faith jumping into bed with Aegon post Cersei blowing up the Sept (CANNOT Believe the show basically had no consequences for that), and Cersei has just so completely screwed herself in isolating herself from every possible ally, I honestly wouldn't be surprised if she and Jaime die by the end of TWOW? 

I also saw a post recently about how Aegon being the one to defeat the Lannisters would make him immensely popular, and how Aegon coming west before Dany means that he basically swept up any support a Targaryen claimant could get before she could, and I don't think she’s going to be happy about it. 

and I think there’s a way more interesting story to be told about Dany versus the  potential family she’s been wishing for, for so long, than Cersei versus some dude. The son of the brother she dreams of being, a potential husband and fellow dragon rider, but also one with a stronger claim than her, who doesn’t actually need her! I think whether or not Aegon is actually real or not (I mean, I think he is, the sun’s son) won't matter so much as Dany HAVING to believe he wasn't in order to justify to herself going to war against him. 

There's also so much baggage attached to Dany and KL, see her dream of it where every house has are door plus it being where the Targaryen’s first landed for their conquest, Aegon the conqueror’s seat, that her destroying it has is just WAY more interesting than JonCon doing it because of the bells (I know that’s not the whole theory, I’m sorry, the build up to KL going up has been there since AGOT, I just cannot see it being done by a late game pov. JonCon will be committing other war crimes, don’t worry.)

And the story has such a big build up for how dangerous dragons are, and blowing up an entire city would be a really solid way to wrap that up lol

[sapphoslavender]

day 7 of sappho!

oops i forgot to post these last few days! and ive already lost count of what day it is! i think its day 7? happy 1 week anniversary

umm so. what has happened.

i figured out how to replant tortimer's island palm trees, so i should be able to catch beetles soon

i began laying out my flowers, so i'll soon have pretty flower walkways!

garden store is open!!!!

which means i got an axe, and was able to cut down some poorly placed trees!

i grinded for a bunch of flowers today @ tortimer island :]

im getting the qr code machine soon!

i joined club tortimer but im probably never gonna use it because i hate multiplayer with ppl i dont know

got a bunch of house exterior upgrades

new villagers! marcel and tammy!

i opened the campsite!

ive been trying to get new pwp suggestions, but none yet :,) i'll try again tomorrow

god whenever i say pwp i think im talking about smut.

oo also, i ordered some cute stickers from amazon to decorate my 3ds with. i cant believe ive never done that ??

ok, now for some future plans:

i really need to get some new bridges because i absolutely hate where mine is placed currently. but i dont want to build a new one yet bc i want it to be a pretty one, since if it isnt, im just gonna end up wasting money by destroying it later, if that makes sense....im stingy with money both irl AND in-game!!

i was planning on making the area outside the train stop full of pink flowers, but ive instead filled it with pansies. i might go back to pink, but idk.....

also: how long does it take for fruit to regrow??? also trees take forever ???? ik im just being impatient but damn.

oo also villagers. now that i have the campsite, im excited! honestly, the only villagers of mine that im attached to rn are opal and rosie. so if anyone wants to be notified in case my other villagers move out, lmk!

and now for a nostalgia rant. in one of my previous towns, i think 2018? i had some amazing villagers that i really miss — pancetti and merengue. i love them so much! if anyone has them, please let me know because i love them!!! i miss them!! come back home, im so sorry for leaving you!!!!!!!!!

(btw, i have some old qr codes i made from 2018. the photos are kinda shitty since i took them with my phone, but maybe i'll post them here!)

[ofstarsandskies]

Entering this dimension, Julius could sense the ongoing headache from one look. Absolutely nothing about this town looked familiar-- its architecture reminded him of Nia Khera, yet it had none of its major landmarks. Everyone around them didn't even notice two strange men popping into existence, too busy prepping for some big event. A younger Julius' next course of action would be burning everything down to catch the catalyst somewhere in the destruction; for now, he'd save that as a last resort.

"No wonder the entry point was marked 'Unknown'; I don't remember such a town existing in our dimension," ...Or did it? Ludger's pensive expression as he stared out at their surroundings suggested he was putting pieces together. "Do you recognize this place, Ludger?"

The fox-like statues along the path were scratching an itch in his brain. And the houses... he'd seen something like them once before-- Oh! "This is where I met Koun!" To think this would be how he'd revisit Koun's hometown... Sort of. "But it's a lot different than our dimension's. Everything was rotted or destroyed, where here it's all in good shape. And you can see the ocean; Spirius' data said it receded around 300 years ago."

"So this dimension's set centuries in the past," Julius' enthusiasm reached beyond the moon. Their job could do with more issues. "Avoid any unnecessary details. We can't risk contradicting this world's present."

Plan set, the brothers thought to start from the center of the village and work their way out to the surrounding area. Their ill-fitting modern outfits had a couple locals side-eyeing them, but otherwise they moved through the streets disturbed. Everything seemed totally in order... if you ignored the statues. Nobody acknowledged them except two kids who flung food at one.

Spirius and Julius both taught him not to sympathize with a world they'd soon destroy, yet Ludger's empathy never let him. He prepped to speak out until a young lady chased them off all by herself. She was about to clean the mess up alone too until she spotted him and Julius watching the scene.

"Let us help with that, ma'am!" Ludger's white shirt and Julius' white coat wouldn't appreciate use as a washcloth, though stains come out eventually. Julius didn't protest at all (a welcome surprise!) and both brothers scraped off the food from the statues.

Julius' coat survived with minimal casualties. Ludger's sleeve... Just gotta cope using internal reminders it'd wash it all out in time.

"There we go, all clean," Ludger said after a job well done, none of his gloom thoughts spilling out. Not that it had time to fester-- they needed a cover story to explain their presence. "Oh, uh... yeah! Me and my brother live in a port town across the ocean, so we've heard stories from traders! Too bad we never got a boat until this year, right Nii-san?"

"I warned you saving up for one would take years," Julius played along, though not without sneaking in a quick tease. "If we may ask, what is this festival for? We focused too much on when we'd cross over that we long forgot the why."

Koun had just been about to take that first bite, when he stopped at Ludger's words. He blinked a few times, slightly stunned by the suggestion. It had just been an off-handed comment about the mint….and yet--

Koun didn't get a chance to dwell on it, as that little device went off. Very rarely did Ludger ever answer the phone when they had dinner, so Koun kept quiet. It was important. True to what he thought, the phone clicked off and both Ludger and Julius were talking amongst themselves. Talking about things he didn't quite understand, but still he listened. Learned.

There was one place that Koun did not follow Julius or Ludger too, and that was their work. He would only get in the way, and most technology didn't particularly agree with him (be it the fact he was a spirit, or simply his internal temperature he never quite was sure.). So he always stayed home. This time would be no different.....but it was odd that it had called for the two of them. Very strange.

So Koun took a sip of his tea, and gave a dismissive wave as the two set off....subtly doing his job of boosting the other's luck....and this time, on a whim, he boosted Ludger's as well. Sure, normally he had to be in the vicinity.....but it would last for a few days at least. Once they were gone, he went back to his food with a hum....eyeing the place they'd been moments earlier.

.....It seemed like Fate was moving again. He wondered how this would play out.

The place that the two had found themselves in was far from what they likely were used too. Julius likely would not recognize any of the structures, but Ludger might at the very least recognize a few of the Inari Statues that littered the streets.....The buildings were.....Old. Yet new. The architecture was old, but the buildings themselves seemed to be rather new. Most seemed to have been built within the past.....few years at least. There were people too, passing by without a care in the world. It seemed like they were getting ready for some sort of party....a festival maybe? The air was happy.

Yet closer inspection to the area, and they would find that the Inari Statues were....unkempt. Avoided by most of the populous. As they made their way deeper into the little village, they'd even witness a few children throwing food at one of them. Something that a young girl in a kimono quickly addressed.

"Stop that you two! Those are sacred statues!" Brandishing a broom she took aim, and the children let out a yelp as she approached, sweeping at them in earnest. They scattered, laughing and saying something that sounded a little too close too 'it's the fox's wench'. Her face flushed, the grip on her broom tightening before she let out a long sigh and started trying to clean up the statue.....

Before noticing the two of them standing there, watching the scene unfold. She blinked a few times before smoothing out her kimono and her hair, and approaching.

"I haven't seen your faces around here, are you travelers? Did you come for the Festival?"

[ericspinkhair]

quarantine longings

pairing: best friend!kevin x fem!reader

word count: 3.2k

synopsis: you and your best friend have sex because quarantine made you horny

warnings: best friends to lovers, takes place during the pandemic, spoiler of 356 days (but not the end, just generally the plot), no use of condoms but only the pill, creampie, sexual fantasies, fingering, hand-job, sex, slight angst at the end if you squint

a/n: I would literally die for kevin, I love him so much. I'll be writing a multiple parts series about him after I'm done writing scenarios for every member first.

requests are open!

masterlist + requests

you slammed your foot hard against the wall and cursed in pain. you hopped on one foot to your bed, holding your other leg in agony and tasted blood as you bit your lip to keep the volume of your suffering groans in check. someone knocked on the door.

'are you okay?' your roommate asked concerned.

'no, leave me alone, kevin,' you croaked out. you wanted to suffer by yourself.

there was an awkward silence and then you heard him sigh. soon after, the door next to your room closed shut.

why were you so frustrated, one might ask? well, the pandemic was kicking your butt and you just couldn't take it anymore. when the news of the virus had first spread, no one thought it would become this serious. but suddenly everyone was walking around with masks and spent most of their time staying at home.

after graduating high school, you and kevin had decided to move in together for college because both of you were broke and couldn't afford to live alone. you had been best friends since middle school and had been convinced that it was a smart idea at the time.

and everything went smoothly for the first one and a half years. however, after not seeing anyone else since the start of the pandemic over a year ago, it became increasingly difficult to share an apartment, but not in the way one might assume. you were neither sick of each other nor did you fight a lot. to tell the truth, it was quite the opposite.

earlier, before you had kicked the wall in anger, the two of you had painted together. kevin was majoring in art and, since you didn't have anything better to do, you joined him while he did projects for his classes. you might have been majoring in journalism but you had always liked drawing and painting, even though you weren't particularly skilled. you were a naturally clumsy person, always tripping over air and dropping things. today you were hecticly moving around your hands while telling him about a stupid video you had seen and you accidently let go of the brush in your hand. it hit the side of kevin's face, leaving a wide splodge of red paint on his right cheek.

to get back at you, he jerked his paint brush and splattered some green color on your white shirt. you saw this as a challenge and soon both of you were both drenched in the colors of the rainbow, laughing hysterically on the floor, not caring that you were spreading the paint on the poor carpet.

you turned your heads to look at each other and you felt absolutely in peace. you loved this man and couldn't be more glad that it was him and not anyone else you were stuck with inside of this apartment.

he stood up to take off his stained shirt and your smile quickly faded off your face. your lips slightly parted and you couldn't help but stare at his now exposed biceps and abs.

your mouth watered and you felt heat pooling between your legs as you took your time to study his architecture. thoughts about how badly you wanted him to thrust into you while his strong arms held you up invaded your mind. you tried to shake them off but it was impossible.

occasions like this were slowly becoming a common occurrence for you.

having mostly stayed inside for over a year, also meant that you didn't have sex for that long. it's not like you were the horniest person on the planet but you still had needs that were being neglected. with kevin being home all the time you didn't even dare to masturbate, scared that he would be able to hear you through the frustratingly thin walls. you must have gone insane with all the lust building up inside you and that's why you suddenly craved to have sex with your best friend. this whole thing was destroying everything. it was hard to act normal when he was making you this nervous and heated but you tried to pretend that everything was fine anyway for the sake of your friendship.

that was the reason why you were angry and had hurt yourself. you hated the way you felt about your best friend and you hated the pandemic for not giving you an outlet to escape so you could recollect yourself.

what you weren't aware of was that kevin was no stranger to the exact same frustration.

he would need more than his ten fingers and ten toes to be able to count the amount of times he had to run to the bathroom to hide his boner because he had done so much as look at you bend over or stretch. he didn't want to make you uncomfortable but it was a challenge to try and calm down his hormones.

whenever he jacked off, images of you flashed through his mind; your sweet curves and pink lips drove him insane.

last week, you two were cooking together and you had asked him to get the salt. he stood behind you to reach for it on the highest shelf. he was forced to press his crotch against your butt cheeks and his dick hardened against his will. he quickly handed you the salt, excused himself and ran off before you could figure out what had happened.

he might not have known the cause of your sudden outburst but he sympathized with your fury because he had a lot of pent up anger towards covid as well.

he lay in his bed and tried to focus on the book he was reading but he couldn't tune out the groans coming from the room next to his. he cursed.

'stop it!' he was panicking as he saw a familiar tent forming in his pants. your sounds triggered some weird perverted part of his brain that sent signals right to his genitals. his dick was hardening and he saw no other solution to his problem than to give in to his subconscious desires.

he pulled down his pants just far enough so that his cock had enough room to spring out. it only needed a few strokes before it stood tall and angry. kevin pressed his head into his pillow and moved his hand fast. he wanted to get over with it quickly. he emptied his cum on his stomach while imagining your greedy little mouth being stuffed by his cock. he lay there panting as yet another round of shame flushed over him.

'get yourself together,' he whispered, mentally slapping himself.

***

'do you want to order japanese or italian?' you asked kevin. today was friday which meant it was time for your weekly tradition of ordering take out and watching a movie.

'definitely italian. we've already had japanese for the past four days. I need something else for a change,' kevin complained and shuddered at the thought of having to eat sushi again. the japanese restaurant prepared absolutely delicious food but he just couldn't stand it anymore.

you laughed at his pained facial expression. 'fine, italian it is.'

within twenty minutes the doorbell rang and after about half a minute kevin came back with two huge boxes.

he opened them on the small table situated in front of your couch and the smell of freshly cooked pasta seasoned with basil made your stomach growl.

kevin wanted to dig in already but you stopped him. you had to choose a movie first.

'let's watch tall girl. I saw everyone hate on it on tiktok,' you suggested.

'I think we should watch 365 days, that was all over my for you page as well,' kevin argued. you hadn't heard of it so you weren't sure whether it would be the right movie for you. the rule was that it had to be as bad as possible.

'according to what I have heard, it's apparently even worse than 50 shades of grey,' kevin added which piqued your interest. the both of you had watched 50 shades about two months ago and you were honestly shocked by how awful it actually was. you couldn't understand why everyone had been so obsessed with it when it was first released. if 356 days was really worse, then you'd hit the jackpot. you clapped your hands.

'fine, you win. I swear if the movie isn't as horrible as you say it is then you owe me something!' he intertwined his pinky with yours to promise.

watching horrible movies was way better than watching good ones. making fun of bad storylines, stupid characters or horrible editing was one of your favorite past times.

'I guess I'll have to add are you lost, baby girl to the top 10 worst lines ever spoken. who thought ah yes this is sexy, let's have him repeat it over and over again', you complained, shoving some pasta into your mouth.

'so he's like I won't do anything without your permission while he is literally groping her boobs against her will, like make it make sense, massimo', added kevin, ruffling his hair in frustration. he almost completely forgot about the food.

'so let me get this straight: he drugged her, kidnapped her, tied her up, hung up a painting of her just because he saw her face when his dad was shot?'

'totally relatable.' both of you giggled.

you were enjoying complaining about the plot. it was horrible.

there were plenty of erotic scenes but they were honestly so funny and kinda gross that you could bare it without really being affected by them. kevin, on the other hand, had placed a pillow over his hard-on to hide the embarrassing fact that these terrible, smutty scenes had turned him on.

and then the infamous boat scene came.

massimo and laura had a huge fight, she fell of the boat, he saved her and now she was suddenly so in love with him that she begs him to fuck her. which he does.

you felt your panties become increasingly wet as the couple had steaming hot sex.

'this is embarrassing but I'm so horny,' you admitted but in a way that should have suggested that you meant it as a joke. something about this statement stirred something in kevin.

'well, what can I say?' he replied and lifted the pillow. your pupils widened at the sight of your best friend's bulge.

his eyes darkened and he looked at you with lust clearly written on his face. you reciprocated his stare with the same intensity. you tried to focus on his dark brown orbs instead of his boner but the image you had just seen was present in your mind.

his gaze shifted to your lips and, before you knew it, kevin climbed above you and pressed your back flat onto the couch.

your lips locked and you immediately buried your hands in his hair to pull him closer. you moved in sync, his lips fitting perfectly onto yours. you bucked your hips up against his crotch and earned a moan from kevin. he opened his eyes in shock as realization hit him. he quickly pulled away and jumped off the coach.

'I'm so sorry, y/n. I shouldn't have just done that. I don't know what came over me,' he apologized profusely, staring at his feet. did he really think that you didn't want this?

'give me your hand,' you told him and held out your hand.

'why?' he raised his eyebrows in confusion. you rolled your eyes.

'just do it.'

you took his hand and led it to your crotch.

'what are you- oh my god.' your juices had completely soaked through your panties and your sweatpants. 'you are so wet.'

'for you,' you added. 'there's no need to apologize. I'm literally begging you to continue.'

you didn't have to say that twice before he pulled you closer to him by your hips and engaged you in another desperate kiss. his hands were groping your butt while you let yours slide under his hoodie. you felt his naked skin and toned abs, as you rubbed his stomach. you lowered your hands and bravely palmed his boner through his clothes.

'y/n,' he hissed out against your lips. you hooked your thumbs in the elastic of his pants and underwear, and pushed the material down to his thighs. he struggled to get them off.

you stroked his hard dick as he slipped his hand into your panties to massage your pussy at the same time.

he slipped one finger inside and began working it in and out. you finally were getting the relief you had been desperately craving for for so long. kevin was skilled and your walls were trying to swallow his slim finger. you were quickly coming close to your orgasm after having abstained for more than a year. you pulled his hand out.

'I bet you can make me come even better with your dick,' you challenged kevin.

'you bet I will.' he was confident.

'let me just look for a condom.' he was already turning away to go search in his room but you held him back by the arm.

'forget about it. I'm on the pill and I want you raw. I want you to come inside me and not spill into a stupid condom.'

the idea of this sounded very tempting to kevin. he picked you up and threw you back onto the couch, drawing your hips closer to him so he could pull off all the pieces of clothing that were hindering him from accessing your pussy.

he propped up his arms next to your sides and spread your thighs apart. strings of arousal were hanging from your folds and he saw your hole desperately clench around nothing. his dick hurt from how much he wanted to finally be inside of you. he wanted to find out how close he had been able to imagine how you would feel around him.

your hole took him in easily, welcoming him happily by embracing it tightly. kevin swore he could've cum right here and there.

he went slow at first to give you a chance to adjust but you were already fully ready, rocking your hips forward to meet his thrusts.

he crashed your mouths together and you kissed him like he was oxygen and you were short of air. you smiled and your eyes rolled back, satisfied with how things had played out today and the prospects of coming looked fairly promising.

desperate for release, kevin picked up the pace, his eyes closed while fucking into you like a horny animal. he couldn't help himself and all the 'faster's and 'harder's spilling from your mouth only encouraged him to drive himself deeper into you.

you wrapped your legs around his torso in an attempt to regain the control you were losing.

'fuck fuck fuck,' you cursed, feeling your muscles starting to contract. kevin brushed away some hair that was stuck to your sweaty forehead.

'it's fine, I'm coming too,' he announced and it took only a few more thrusts before a body shaking orgasm flushed over you, making you see only white. this drove kevin over the edge too and he spilled inside you, filling you up with his hot cum. he continued to slowly ease his dick in and out of you, fucking his semen right back into you until you had ridden out both of your orgasms. he let himself fall onto the couch right next to you, panting hard.

'I very much needed this,' you sighed in content.

'same, I wasn't sure whether I could hold out any longer without having a proper orgasm.' he watched his cum drip out of you.

'we should've thought of this sooner,' you said. 'this was a great idea.'

kevin hummed in agreement.

***

so now you and kevin were having sex on a regular basis, your high score being five times in a day. it felt good to finally live out your sexuality and not having to restrict yourself. sure, you guys did it more than necessary but it was a great way to pass time and it felt fucking amazing.

today you had done it in the shower after waking up, then on the kitchen counter and you had just finished having sex in his bed.

he was spooning you from behind, his cock still placed inside of you. he nuzzled his nose into your neck.

'stop, that tickles,' you chuckled.

'sorry.'

after a while of comfortable silence you heard him let out a big sigh.

'what's wrong?' you asked as he pulled out of you. you turned around to be able to look at him.

'I don't think I can do it like this anymore,' he confessed.

'what do you mean?' you asked. 'are you talking about us having sex?'

he nodded. your heart dropped and you started feeling dizzy. you tried to search for answers in his eyes but he avoided looking at you.

'w-why?' you stuttered, trying to hold back the tears that were welling up in your eyes.

'it was amazing at first,' he started and finally raised his head to meet your gaze, 'and I went into it without much thought. I went crazy during quarantine and began fantasizing about having sex with you. then it became reality but now I understand that was probably wrong of me. I've always thought of myself as a gentleman, yet I slept with you without much thought. you see, my issue is this…'

suspense hung in the air and you were impatiently waiting for him to get to the point.

'I like you.'

you quietly gasped in surprise. you had been expecting him to say you were bad at sex and that he regretted everything but not this.

'I shouldn't be sleeping with you unless you were my girlfriend,' he finished off his ramble. you felt immensely relieved.

'do you want me to?' you asked him.

'want you to what?' kevin was confused. he had been a hundred percent sure you'd immediately jump out of the bed in disgust when he confessed.

'be your girlfriend. after all, I like you too, you moron.' you realized that you had known this for a while. you might have even been crushing on your best friend since way before the pandemic struck but it was kind of hard to track your feelings. still, you were sure you liked him too. now that he had admitted his feelings, you were able to admit yours not only to him but to yourself as well.

'wow, I didn't expect this,' kevin confessed surprised. you laughed.

'yeah, we should've realized this sooner.' he pulled you closer and kissed you. it was different than the other times. his lips moved softly against yours, in contrast to all of your rough and passionate kisses you had exchanged these past few weeks. he conveyed his emotions through the kiss.

'you're ready again?' you groaned as you felt kevin's dick harden against your upper thigh. he chuckled.

'sorry, you just turn me on so much.'

so then you did it for the fourth time. that day, you set a new record of having sex six times. you might have been happy now but still just as horny.

[the-last-kenobi]

Most of your fics absolutely destroyed me emotionally so, on my own risk, may I request #13 “You shouldn’t be this easy to carry" with Qui-Gon and padawan Obi-Wan? Thank you!

Ohhh I’m happy to write this one! Thank you! (Always pleased to hear I’ve emotionally wrecked innocent people lol)

From this various prompts list.

_

Qui-Gon descended the ramp of his ship with something less than his usual grace, his expression was rather sour. Other than that, he looked his usual self, untidy but comfortable and serene.

He waved to the attendant heading towards the ship, and bowed to a small mechanic droid that squeaked with excitement, ran in circles around him, and then darted off after the attendant.

Qui-Gon chuckled. He paused to take a deep breath, tasting the metallic scent of Coruscant on the air, but also the warm and familiar notes of the Temple, of home. It was good to be back. Tedious diplomatic assignments that ran well overtime were nothing worth dwelling on, especially when it was done alone.

“Master Jinn!” a warm voice called.

He turned his head and saw Shaak Ti walking towards him, a smile on her lovely face with its striking colors.

“Knight Ti,” he greeted her. “How are you?”

“I’m well,” she answered. “I’m just about to depart to Alderaan; it’s a royal wedding and I’m the token Jedi invitee,” she informed him, but there was no offense in her voice. Alderaan was well known to be genuinely welcoming, and had been more than courteous in their dealings with the Order for centuries on end.

“Enjoy it,” Qui-Gon advised her. “Weddings are rarely something you’d like to miss.”

“I will,” she promised. “Oh, is your Padawan around? I was hoping to catch him when he returned, he forgot to sign off on his departure notice and was scheduled for three shifts in the crèche, which he obviously missed.”

Qui-Gon’s head tilted to one side, and he frowned.

It was obvious that Shaak Ti believed that Obi-Wan had accompanied him on his mission, which had in fact been a solo assignment. The twenty-one-year-old Padawan had remained behind for class rotations.

And Obi-Wan had never missed... well, anything. He was notoriously early for everything, beyond punctual. It was almost annoying.

Perhaps he’d finally slipped into a belated teenage fit of laziness, or he’d fallen so behind on class work that he’d forgotten about the crèche. Both would be extremely out of character, but one instance of this in nearly nine years of training could perhaps be excused.

Shaak Ti was waiting for an answer.

“I’ll talk to him,” he promised, revealing nothing. “Thank you for letting me know. I had no idea.”

She waved it off. “These things happen. You have a good student on your hands; he’s easily forgiven.”

Qui-Gon smiled.

~

The door to their quarters opened for him with a casual wave of the hand. Jedi did not lock their doors often; privacy was an understood thing, something not casually breached. No Jedi would enter another’s rooms without first asking permission.

He wasn’t sure what he expected.

Obi-Wan in the common area, reading.

Or Obi-Wan out and about, somewhere off with some of his more trouble making friends. (Quinlan Vos.)

He was not expecting to find Obi-Wan huddled in the corner of their kitchenette, half-hidden in his cloak, knees drawn up under his chin, crying.

Obi-Wan saw him enter and flinched away, shuddering.

Qui-Gon stared.

The entire scene was so unexpected, so wrong, that for a full five seconds he simply stood there, unable to process it. Obi-Wan had buried his face in his knees and was attempting to stifle his tears, seemingly by holding his breath, which was only making him shake harder.

Qui-Gon jolted out of his paralysis and stepped nearer, dropping onto one knee, sensing that looming over his Padawan was not going to help.

“Padawan?” he asked cautiously.

Obi-Wan looked up reluctantly. His face was a sickly grey; his cheeks were bright red and his blue eyes were feverish. They darted around, seeming to fix on nothing.

“Obi-Wan,” the Master tried again, warily reaching out a hand and resting it on top of one of Obi-Wan’s, clenched around his knee.

Obi-Wan took a rattling breath, more tears spilling down his cheeks. “...What... day is it...?” he gasped.

Qui-Gon’s chest tightened with something close to terror. What in all the galaxy was going on here?

“It’s the 29th,” he said gently. “Taungsday. I returned a day late from my solo mission. Do you remember that?”

Obi-Wan’s tears had increased throughout the brief speech. “Y-yes.”

“All right,” said Qui-Gon, struggling to remain as calm and patient as possible. “All right. Can you tell me what’s wrong? Are you hurt?”

Obi-Wan shook his head, his expression crumbling. Suddenly he very much resembled the boy Qui-Gon had met on Bandomeer, uncertain and frightened, although even then he had not cried. This was different.

“Are you sure?” Qui-Gon pressed.

Obi-Wan nodded, strangling a loud sob by clapping one hand over his mouth. He said something, but of course it was impossible to understand behind his clamped fingers.

“What?” asked his Master.

“...so...stupid,” Obi-Wan burst out angrily through his tears. “I just... don’t feel well.”

“Don’t feel well?” Qui-Gon stared at his apprentice in confusion. “You’re sick? Obi-Wan, why didn’t you just go to the Halls?”

Obi-Wan shuddered. More tears slid down over his flushed cheeks. “I...I...I fell,” he said, sounding deeply uncertain. “I was working, and it was late, and I fell. I think I fell. I can’t walk. I can barely move. I don’t know how long it’s been—”

Qui-Gon was already moving, alarm ringing in his head like sirens. In two seconds he had Obi-Wan in his arms, cradled like a child, his head resting under Qui-Gon’s chin.

“You shouldn’t be this easy to carry,” he said tensely. “You haven’t had anything to eat or drink since you fell?”

“Some... some water,” Obi-Wan murmured. His skin was blazing hot against Qui-Gon’s, a sick and feverish heat. He had stopped crying — his tears seemed to have stemmed from a combination of confusion and shame, not pain — but he seemed on the verge of passing out. “I... I got some water... don’t remember when...”

“Stay awake,” Qui-Gon ordered. He was striding down the hallways, ignoring the few bystanders who watched them pass with bewilderment and concern. He did send a grateful nod to one young woman who raised her comm in her hand at him, asking a silent question, and at his gesture raised it to her lips and murmured ‘Tell the Healers that Master Jinn is bringing in his Padawan. Have someone ready.’

Obi-Wan murmured something vague.

“Stay awake,” insisted Qui-Gon. “Don’t fall asleep.”

Obi-Wan moaned but nodded, forcing his eyes to stay open. “I...I’m sorry.”

“You don’t need to apologize.” The words came out harsh and insincere in Qui-Gon’s urgency, and he realized it, because he dropped a swift kiss to the top of the fevered head in apology. Obi-Wan relaxed ever so slightly.

They arrived in the Halls of Healing and were immediately received by a Healer and his apprentice, who had Obi-Wan safely tucked in a bed and monitored in less than two minutes. Obi-Wan had closed his eyes against the bright light and seemed in danger of falling asleep again.

“Stay awake just a little longer, Padawan Kenobi,” the Healer instructed kindly. “I’m fairly sure of your diagnosis but I have to be more certain before I can administer treatment. Then you can sleep.”

“Yes, Healer,” rasped the young man.

Qui-Gon watched from the wall, his hands tucked deep in his sleeves to hide how they trembled. The shock of the last quarter hour was setting in, and he scrambled to keep his wits about him, worried about what this diagnosis might be. He still remembered Obi-Wan’s confusion about the day, his bewildered tears, and that memory was not going to be going away anytime soon.

He had been far too light in his arms.

Just how long had Obi-Wan been trapped in their rooms, unable to call for help and too confused to figure out a way around that? How long had he gone without eating and sleeping?

He found out.

An hour later, Obi-Wan was fast asleep, hooked up to an IV and blissfully pain-free due to a dose of pills he had managed to swallow. The Healer turned to Qui-Gon with a weary smile.

“You’re all right?” he asked.

“I’m fine. I’ve just returned from a mission, but I wasn’t hurt.”

“That’s good to know. I was asking about shock, however,” the Healer said gently. “I know this can’t have been a pleasant homecoming.”

Qui-Gon’s throat tightened, but he said nothing.

The Healer seemed to understand. “Obi-Wan has contracted a strain of the flu,” he explained, moving past the brief surge of emotion. “As you know, most strains of the flu are easily combated these days and many species have evolved or inoculated to the point where it’s hardly a concern. But sometimes the flu is stronger. In this case, it’s clear that it’s job was made easy. I don’t think Padawan Kenobi was eating or sleeping properly before the sickness began to set in. It would explain the severity of his malnutrition, and his confusion.”

Qui-Gon’s eyes flickered to the bed where Obi-Wan was sleeping, the fever still burning in his cheeks.

“...How long?” he asked.

“A few days at most,” the Healer said. “But I suspect it’s a habit that’s related to stress and overwork. Does Obi-Wan struggle with stress or insomnia?”

The Master hesitated a moment, opening his mouth to deny it, and then stopping to think better of it.

“...Maybe,” he admitted. The hesitation stung. Shouldn’t he know? “He’s very private with his habits when we’re in Temple. He prefers to study alone in his room, and we usually only manage to share one meal a day during his busier semesters, if that.”

The Healer nodded. He didn’t look or sound at all accusatory when he said, “That’s understandable. I’m going to suggest keeping a closer eye on that. Don’t force him out of his comfort zone, at least not right away, but make sure he understands that three square meals — or better yet, a light meal or snack every two or three hours — is expected of him. As is sleep.”

Qui-Gon nodded, his throat tightening again to the point of pain.

“Rest easy, Master Jinn,” said the Healer, briefly laying a supportive hand on the taller Jedi’s shoulder. “He’ll pull through this. The illness, and everything else. I believe it’s nothing more than a bad habit formed from good intentions. There are crueler demons out there.”

“Yes, I know,” said Qui-Gon. And he did know. One didn’t reach Jedi Mastery without learning the galaxy for what it was.

But he didn’t think he would ever quite move past the shock of today, of carrying his adult apprentice in his arms, sick to the point of tears and helplessness, and then discovering that he could possibly have prevented this if he had paid a little more attention to Obi-Wan’s work habits.

Well. They would, as the Healer said, overcome this.

Qui-Gon drew up a chair to the side of the bed, resolving to wait until Obi-Wan woke, and slowly reached out and set his hand next to his Padawan’s. After a moment, Obi-Wan stirred, and even in his sleep he gave a contented sigh and shifted his hand, his fingers searching blindly for his Master’s hand. Qui-Gon took it and held it tightly.

They had overcome so many things in nearly a decade together.

They could handle this.

And besides, Qui-Gon told himself, even after Obi-Wan was Knighted, he would always be here to watch his back.

He would never abandon Obi-Wan.

_

[smhalltheurlsaretaken]

THE BOX IS NABOO

That’s it, I’m doing it, I’m writing that stupid meta I’ve had in the works for two and a half years, I’m sharing it with the world. I promised it for last Thursday, my poll was forever ago, but whatever! I’m writing that freaking thing.

(super duper long post, press j to skip)

Enter my rabbit hole.

First thing to establish: the Box makes no sense whatsoever in-universe.

((EDIT: Something I forgot to mention. IRL, the premise of a giant murder cube and the aesthetic - wall patterns, light designs, etc - of the episode come from the 1997 horror movie Cube, (see the episode’s wookieepedia page). However, while the two are very closely linked visually, the Box does not follow the movie structurally or narratively, as you can verify by simply reading the movie’s summary.))

Recap of the context for the "Box" episode (s4e17): Palpatine is planning his own kidnapping. It was never meant to succeed, and while the plan would obviously benefit him (making the Jedi look bad, pushing Anakin closer to the Dark Side, making Republic citizens more afraid -> more docile, etc...) his actual goal is never explained, and it’s weird that he’d go to such extreme lengths for results so minimal that we’re never told what they are.

So Palpatine asks Dooku to kidnap him at the Festival of Lights on Naboo. Dooku hires Moralo Eval to design a giant box-thingy to test bounty hunters to hire the best of them to kidnap Palpatine. Moralo then gets arrested to alert the Republic that something is afoot, and hires Cad Bane to break him out. Obi-Wan - undercover to learn Moralo’s plan - goes with them. They evade capture and go to Serenno, and Bane and Obi-Wan have to pass the box-thingy test. The level of brainkarked logic here... Truly on par with Megamind, Gru and Heinz Doofenshmirtz.

Setting aside the insane plot holes and utterly nonsensical behavior of the villains, the Box itself is moronic from a plot perspective. It’s insanely complex, obviously incredibly expensive and would have taken months (more like years but it’s a short war) to make when it’s not even needed for the dastardly plot! Just hire some guys who have already proven themselves against Jedi! Throw cash at Bane and Embo and a few others! Maybe attack them with your saber and see how they do! 

And after all that, Dooku still ends up trying to kidnap Palpatine on his own. I can’t even... 

So why does the Box exist? Well, apart from being a nerdy callback to Cube, giving us a good thrill and being generally awesome to look at, it has actual narrative purpose within the SW universe.

The box is Naboo.

What the Box lacks in plot relevance, it makes up for with its heavily symbolic meaning. It very closely follows Obi-Wan and Qui-Gon’s experiences on Naboo - but only certain parts, which I’ll explain later.

We start with clean, sterile environments, SW’s favored way of showing villainy.

Then we have the protagonists locked in a room as dioxis, a poison gas, pours in.

And then they escape... this way.

(Okay, here the shaft is down, not up. And it’s not a ventilation shaft per say, it’s the designed escape route. Same difference).

We then skip most of TPM (namely, Obi-Wan and Qui-Gon discovering the droid army, finding Padmé, leaving Naboo, landing on Tatooine, going to Coruscant, etc, etc) to come back to Naboo and go directly to the lightsabers and catwalks.

(Note: in both scenes, Obi-Wan has to propel himself from a catwalk.)

In TPM and TCW, the catwalks are immediately followed by ray shields

And we finally end with the last scenes. Now, they don’t look the same but they are structurally identical. 

Obi-Wan is faced with a challenge unsuited for his abilities (facing Darth Maul // shooting three moving targets when he’s far more skilled with a blade than a blaster) on a narrow space above a melting pit/pit of fire. 

He first watches someone die failing to complete the task...

 ... and has to do it himself, faring much better than expected (holding his own against Maul // shooting all the targets easily). 

He then almost falls to his death and gets saved unexpectedly.

And then there’s the final showdown.

In both scenes, Obi-Wan is angry. And in TCW Dooku eggs him on, banking on his anger. (More on that later.) In both cases though, he centers himself and is able to overcome both his opponent and his own unbalance. But in TCW, he doesn’t go for the kill, because he doesn’t need to. 

The Box, as a literal character-explorator ex-machina, thus shows us Obi-Wan’s growth.  

In TPM, Obi-Wan follows Qui-Gon’s lead. In TCW, he is the leader. He identifies the gas, makes the plans. He doesn’t fall from catwalks anymore - he runs atop moving ones. He doesn’t stay stuck behind ray-shields, he finds the solution. (Btw, how did Moralo know what blood type Derrown the Exterminator was? There was a 50% chance of him dying - thus killing all of the bounty hunters. Was that an acceptable outcome? TCW I need answers!) He doesn’t slay his foes, because he’s become powerful enough, skilled enough and wise enough to survive (and win) without needing to kill.

He’s grown - and, even more interestingly, he’s also stayed the same. In the previous episodes, we see some of the dark aspects of Obi-Wan. How he - like all Force-wielders, all people - could lose himself if he stopped maintaining absolute control.

But in the Box, surrounded by the worst criminals of the Galaxy, the most ruthless, worthless people, he’s still kind and tries his best to keep them alive.

The Box is a reminder and a reassurance for the audience that Obi-Wan Kenobi is still there under Rako’s face. He hasn’t lost his compassion, his restrain. He’s still a Jedi. And he’s an awesome, badass one. 

And now, for what it tells us about Dooku! 

It’s much shorter, don’t worry. Basically, Dooku considers that the best way to pick “the best of the best” of the deadliest people in the Galaxy is making them go through what killed his Padawan. There, I’ve broken your hearts, you’re welcome. 

More seriously, Dooku is a manipulative ass. It’s pretty clear that he knows Rako is Obi-Wan, or at the very least suspects it. 

He has an interesting reaction upon learning Rako’s identity, he keeps praising him despite his usual distaste for low-lifes, he smirks secretively after Eval says “I’ll show you who’s weak” (not included there because it’s a close-up of Dooku’s lips and no one wants to see that) and he tells Rako he’s very disappointed when he doesn’t finish off Eval.

[Later]

(Look at this smug asshole - I can’t. YOUR GRANDSON IS THE BEST, WE KNOW, STOP ACTIVELY RUINING HIS LIFE ALREADY.)

(Dooku... why...)

Now obviously Dooku couldn’t have made the Box specifically for Obi-Wan, because it would have to have been designed months before the Council ever decided to send Obi-Wan undercover, but he has no qualms trying to use it to push Obi-Wan to the Dark Side. Ffs Dooku, making your spiritual grandson relive one of the most traumatic events of his life on the off chance that he’ll join you (and desecrate his Master’s memory in doing so) is not okay!

Final tidbits of analysis: I mentioned that not all of TPM is mirrored in the Box. What’s omitted is the droids (even though Obi-Wan and Qui-Gon fight B1′s and droidekas between the dioxis and the ventilation shafts) and anything pertaining to Sidious (all the political stuff on Coruscant). You’ll also note that the fake lightsabers are orange.

=> The Box distances itself from anything that connects Dooku to Naboo. Red lightsabers are the trademark of the Sith, so they’re not used. The bounty hunters will be facing Jedi, so logically the fake sabers should be green or blue - and yet they’re orange, the color closest to red without being red. It fits with Dooku’s special brand of dishonesty - he always tells bits of the real story but twists them just enough to absolve himself of any fault and to justify his choices. 

(”We can destroy the Sith” -> could maybe destroy Sidious with Obi-Wan, but fails to mention he’s a Sith Lord himself; “the Viceroy came to me for help, that’s why I’m attacking the Republic” -> political idealism is a small part of it, but fails to mention he’s Sidious’ underling and is playing the Viceroy like a fiddle; “Qui-Gon would have joined me” -> maybe, still fails to mention he’s working for the man who ordered Qui-Gon’s death; “I told you everything you needed to know” -> debatable, never said that Palps was Sidious; “Sifo-Dyas understood, that’s why he helped me” -> partly true, doesn’t admit to killing Sifo-Dyas right after getting his help)

So we have a twisted version of Naboo, droid-free (as droids are now irrevocably associated with Dooku, even if that wasn’t the case in TPM) and with sabers that aren’t quite red. Keep in mind that Dooku had already fallen by TPM. (We know this because he killed Sifo-Dyas and created the Clone Army - part of Sidious’ plan - when Valorum was still Chancellor, as per the episode The Lost One.) That means Dooku was (in)directly complicit in Qui-Gon’s death. And the Box doesn’t (=refuses to?) acknowledge that. 

(Also omitted in the Box are the Gungans and Tatooine. It makes sense, because Dooku probably wouldn’t have the full details regarding those parts of Qui-Gon and Obi-Wan’s missio as they weren’t as public, and would see them as irrelevant if he did. He utterly despises Anakin, and Gungans are the type of people he always dismisses out of hand). 

Anyway, that’s my two cents about the Box. To quote Lucas...

“It’s like poetry. It rhymes.”

Thanks to @lethebantroubadour @impossiblybluebox​ @nonbinarywithaknife @ytoz​ and @kaitie85386​ for voting for this one. Next up is a compilation of the Jedi being casually tactile with each other (because they’re a warm and affectionate culture, dammit).

Also thanks to @laciefuyu​ for giving me gifs I ended up not using ^^; you rock anyway!

[daydream-believin]

What About the Smaller Picture (2)

Summary: Merlin knows best. And what he feels is best for you and Douxie right now is to sit around and wait for him to come back from New Jersey, Merlin-knows-when. (2) Your first day in Arcadia, it sure is something. (1) - (3)

Warnings: swearing, proofing is for nerds

Word Count: 2211

a/n: i hope to be able to make you feel the awkwardness radiating off of every part of this series

Hisirdoux’s special welcome tour didn’t exactly do its job of making you feel welcome. You supposed that was more of a problem with you than the town. It definitely wasn’t of any fault of Hisirdoux’s. If anything, he was being a little too warm. It almost felt fake.

People appeared to like Hisirdoux. All across town, he would greet friends, introduce you to them. Kinda like he was showing you off. You did not know what for. He barely knew you, yet he talked about you like you were an old friend returned to him. Like he was proud of you or something. You supposed he was establishing a cover story. And you weren’t sure why. Why not just say you were new in town? What tracks was he trying to cover here.

You stopped paying too much attention to what Hisirdoux was telling others about you. He was telling them that he cared for you. That he missed you. It was a lie, sure. But just hearing those words come out of someone else’s mouth were making you melt. It had been so long that it was hard for you to recall the last time a person said such nice things about you. That was sad. You supposed the blush on your face did good to add to the story he was telling. Made it more believable. You felt really pathetic that this guy you barely knew lying through his teeth about you was actually making you blush as if it was real. As if anyone really thought those nice things he said about you in real life. Man that’s really sad. Moving on.

The town itself looked a little rough. Like it had seen better days. It was apparently a hub of magic, so it probably had. A lot of the damage you saw looked very recent though. That made sense. The whole reason you wound up here was because you befriended a girl traveling with a pack of trolls migrating from this very town. When asked why they were migrating, Claire, the girl, had told you that their home had been destroyed in a recent battle. “The Eternal Night” they called the battle. You, of course, knew about such eternal night. You had heard of the prophecy, you just didn’t expect it to happen in your lifetime. And you may had freaked out just a tad when it came along earlier that month, the unexpected solar eclipse confusing you and your studies before you figured out what was happening. However, you had assumed the battle took place underground, you know, cause trolls. The town you explored with Hisirdoux told a different story. At one point you saw a troll walking by, under an umbrella, following a red-headed human woman with a baby in her arms. And the locals didn’t seem to care. No one batted an eye. Strange town.

What really baffled you though was what happened later in the day, back at the bookstore, when you cast a simple spell. Nothing too flashy, just a little levitation on a book Hisirdoux had sent you to find up on a high shelf you couldn’t reach. When he saw you, Doux made a really panicked gasping sound. He threw himself in front of you, shielding you from the people who were not even there, startling you, and throwing off your focus. The book landed on both of you with a thunk.

“You can’t do that,” his voice was hushed despite you two being the only ones in the shop at the moment, “It’s business hours. The mortals don’t know about wizards and they shouldn’t see magic,” he stressed.

“But- uh,, They look just fine with the trolls?” Confusion was written across your face.

“That’s different. It’s different. Look, the situation is weird, okay,” He made a little X with his hands. “But I can’t have you casting spells around the shop. Or in public, period. The mortals can’t see anything, okay?”

“Okay, okay. My bad. I won’t do it again- Promise.” Your face was hot with embarrassment. This was your fault for assuming. Fuck, he probably thinks you’re a wild card now or something. Not a good start to your professional life here. Or your relationship with this Adonis who’s reprimanding you.

“While there are some other wizards around town that I’ll introduce you to tonight, to stay safe, generally just keep the magic for when we’re alone and out of sight.”

“Oh, yeah, uh- Okay”

He grinned. Suddenly, he leaned in, catching you off guard. “It can be a special thing,” His voice was even softer as he was so close to you, “just between the two of us.”

Oh. So he meant when just You and Him were alone and out of sight. Ooookaaaayyyy. He winked to you as he separated himself from your side, and went off to the back of the store to continue unpacking a shipment he had just got in. He left you there, clutching that damn book to your chest, face now hotter than before, if that was even possible at all. Oh no.

Fuck, it was fucking day one. Day one! Day fucking one and you were developing a crush. NOPE. This was not something you were going to do. Uh-uh. Nein. There was no fucking time for this. Well, you didn’t really know how much time you had with Merlin and his addiction to being perceived as mysterious or whatever the hell was wrong with that asshole you worked for now, but the point is you did not have time for this! Hisirdoux was too much. Merlin really should have had the decency to warn you that he was hot. This wasn’t fair. Not only was Doux beautiful, but he was a touchy person. You weren’t going to stand a chance.

The thing is you had been sooo worried about how you and Hisirdoux were going to get along, you even brought up the concern to Merlin. To be honest, you had thought the old wizard to just be annoyed at your worrying, and that’s why he reassured you it’d all be fine. That you and Hisirdoux would get along swimmingly or whatever just get out of my hair kid. You were so afraid Hisirdoux would have to warm up to you like a cat being introduced to a new kitten. Afraid that he’d resent you since you were technically Merlin’s apprentice too now in a sense. And he was used to being number one, no one else to compete with for Merlin’s sparse pride since Morgana went astray. Merlin assured you Hisirdoux was very friendly. But like, would it kill the geezer to give you a warning that he’d be too friendly.

While you were having your little crisis, Douxie was humming along to the song in his head, stacking up the new books onto a display, trying his absolute dilly darndest not to think about what just happened. What he did. That wasn’t weird, right? Oh fuzzbuckets, he did something weird. He was just so used to playing up the flirty persona he’d developed he hadn’t even stopped to think about if he’d be making you uncomfortable. And he really wanted you to be comfortable. Plus, he felt pretty guilty he had to stop your tour around town to go accept a shipment he forgot. Strangely, he was really concerned about the impression he was giving you. Caring about what another person thought of him was not very in character for him. Not counting Merlin, of course. He was going to have to make this up to you. He really needed you to think he was cool. For professional reasons, of course. Definitely.

~ ~ ~

“SO! I recommend the steak because it’s the least disgusting thing on the menu.”

You gaped at the wizard sitting across from you in this sticky booth, peeping your head over the kitschy French-themed menu you held. He had no menu. In fact he refused to even touch it. Great. What did he know.

“I- What do mean ‘least disgusting’, Casperan.” You were almost afraid to ask.

“I mean that kitchen is filthy and the steak is your best bet for something edible.”

“Why. Why would you bring me here if the food is terrible.”

You were always weary of greasy chain restaurants, but you had expected this one to be at least a little decent, since it was a smaller Cali chain and Hisirdoux had fucking brought you to it your first day in the town. Surely he was kidding.

“I just wanted to show you where I worked nights. So you’d be able to find me easier if there’s any trouble. Besides, you can’t say you’ve been to California if you haven’t had Mr. Benoit’s. It’s like In-N-Out burger. Remind me to take you to an In-N-Out burger later this week.”

You blinked. “Oh – uh, okay.”

Hisirdoux continued, “I can’t have my phone turned on during my shifts so you’ll have to come get me directly if it’s a big enough problem. Make up an emergency. Are you good at improve?”

You looked around the restaurant, getting a feel for its layout, taking notice of where the kitchen and back doors were located, making mental notes of all exits. “Ah, well, I’m good at lying, if that’s what you’re asking…”

“Good enough.”

The waiter came to take your orders. Hisirdoux shared an inside joke with him. It should have been awkward, them laughing away at something you didn’t understand why you sat there quietly, but you were a little too fixated on how pretty Hisirdoux looked when he laughed. It was mesmerizing. The waiter took your order. You got the steak.

~ ~ ~

It was very important for you to establish connections in Arcadia’s wizard underground. Or at least that’s what Hisirdoux thought. You weren’t particularly a social butterfly. It’s not that you didn’t like having a large group of friends or anything, you just never really had a reason to have one. And Doux was hell bent on introducing you to every person in this town in one day apparently. You had met twenty-three wizards in counting over the last hour being shepherded through this off-brand apple store. You had so far learned no names. How did he expect you to remember these peoples names.  Scratch that. You knew one name. Zoe. Just because she was very annoyed at your and Hisirdoux’s presence in her workplace, and was very vocal about it. That being said, she didn’t make any real effort to get you to leave. You wished she would though. You were getting overwhelmed. Today had been incredibly stressful, with a lot of information to take in, and with only a brief rest when Doux was handling things at the bookstore. You wanted to go home. Geez, home. You realized that Hisirdoux had yet to show you home. Where was home.

You tugged on his hand to grab his attention. “Hey, I’m- uh – tired? Really tired. Can - can we go home?”

“OH. Yes! Home. Right away. Yes.”

Douxie possibly maybe had been avoiding home all day. It just, it wasn’t much. He had no idea how you were going to react. His space was small already without adding another person to it. Of course, it wasn’t any smaller than any of the one-room cottages that entire families used to share, but it was tiny for modern standards. Okay to be frank it was a back room. Not technically even an actual apartment. But it was his home. And now it was your home too.

Okay, so Hisirdoux lived in his bookstore. What was probably supposed to be a break room was his entire living space. It was… cozy. You set the backpack that carried everything you owned down on the floor and headed for the lumpy plaid sofa. It was nice and old, like a sofa should be. The plaid pattern covered any stains that might have been there. Hisirdoux sat down next to you, starting to fiddle with his hands. You looked around, took it all in. The was a kitchenette off to one side, a bed to the other side. The sofa was in the sort of middle ground. Notably, there was no table, barely any counter space, and various teacups on the coffee table, so it was a safe bet that he just ordered take out every night and ate it on the sofa. The twin bed was on the ground, and the quilts that covered it had visible holes. It struck you that this bed was the only one in the room. The one room.

“So I’ll take the sofa, until we get you a bed. I’ll, uh, figure something out with the space. We can put up curtains or something.” It was if he had read your mind.

You nodded, unsure of anything to add. This was,,,, going to be fun. A challenge. A test to see how long you can act normal while living in extremely close quarters with a funny medieval supermodel. Merlin help you. Something moved in the corner of your eye. You gasped.

“Kitty!”

“Oh, that’s Archie.”

“Pleased to make your acquaintance.”

Talking kitty. How bout that.

[hamliet]

The Girl Who Gets to Have It All: Buffy Summers

So with @linkspooky​‘s encouragement, I have binged Buffy the Vampire Slayer and relived my childhood culture. And, it's a 10/10 for me. Not that it doesn't have flaws, but it's genuinely one of the best stories I've seen, with consistent character arcs, powerful themes, and a beautiful message. It's also like... purportedly about vampires and demons and superpowered chosen ones, but it's actually all about humanity.

Buffy was able to be a teenage girl, allowed to like the things teen girls are scorned for (boys, shopping, etc), to be insecure about the thing teenage girls are insecure about (future careers, dating, school, parents), and to be a superhero with its good and its bad aspects. The story wasn’t afraid to call Buffy on her flaws (sometimes she got in a very ‘I am the righteous chosen one’ mode) and to respect and honor each of her desires (to be a good person, to be loved, and more). The story listened to what she wanted and respected her desires, giving her the challenges needed to overcome her flaws while also never teaching her a lesson about wanting bad boys or romance is silly or any manner of dark warnings stories like to throw at teenage girls. 

It respected teenage girls--nerdy girls like Willow, jocks like Buffy, lonely wallflowers with trauma like Dawn, and popular/snobby ones like Cordelia, girls gone wild like Faith. It never once reduced them to the stereotypes that were lurking right there: each character was fully rounded, human, flawed and yet with respected interests and goals. This is so rare for a story that I’m still in awe. 

The story as a whole follows Buffy from 15 to 21, of her as she grows from teenager to adult. She acts like a teenager and grows to act like a young adult, wrestling with loneliness and duty. The adults, like Giles, Joyce, and Jenny, are not perfect either, but neither are they “bad parents” or “bad mentors” necessarily. Joyce in particular says something terrible to Buffy, but she tries to do better, and it’s rare to see a parent in YA stories shown with such nuance. Basically, it wrote the long-lasting adult characters as human beings, too. 

Speaking of growing up, I appreciated how Buffy’s love interests mirrored this. Angel was someone Buffy loved and admired, wanted to be like, but who was always either extreme good or extreme bad, and combined with Buffy’s own tendencies towards black-white thinking, made for a beautiful relationship to help her grow, but didn’t necessarily form a foundation for a long-term partner. Spike, on the other hand... they both saw each other at their worst and were drawn to each other even then, and were inspired to become better because they couldn’t bear to be a person who treated the other person so wrongly. They pushed each other to become the best them they could be, and believed in each other. Also, Spuffy is an enemies to lovers ship for the ages. 

(Also, most of the other ships were well-done or at least can be understood. Riley was very obviously wrong for Buffy which paralleled Harmony and Spike in being 100% wrong for each other. Cordelia and Xander were a fun ship even if we all knew it would never last, and Willow and Oz were beautiful and cute. But Xander and Anya and Willow and Tara? OTPs. As were Giles and Jenny, the librarian and the computer teacher.) 

That said, it’s not a perfect series. No story is. All of the characters and ships had problematic aspects to them worthy of critique, and the writing is very 90s in a lot of ways. It’s a product of its time, and in many ways it’s good society has progressed beyond some of the tropes/metaphors used in the show. In other way, though, the show was ahead of its time, and in a good way it wasn’t bound by the fear of purity policing with its takes on redemption (many characters would never fly today). 

So, in order of seasons ranked from my very favorite to my “still enjoyed it very much” (no season was actually bad, imo), here’s my review. I’ll also review my top 10 villains in the show, because Buffy does villains very well in terms of the redeemable and irredeemable.  

Season 7:  Yep, the final season was my favorite. 

Overall Opinion: Buffy's finale is literally "f*ck them men, our power is ours" and while it seems cheesy it actually works (also, f*ck in both a literal and figurative sense). The series strongly hit all the themes: love as strength, and redemption. Buffy consistently shows love as her strength--*all* kinds of love. Friendship w Willow/Xander, familial with Joyce/Dawn, romantic with Spike/Angel. These types of love are also never pitted against each other as is so often the case in current-day media. It's beautiful. Also, Spike’s confrontation with Wood was so powerful in terms of exploring forgiveness, redemption, and reconciliation: where they overlap and where they don't, and what it means to move forward. 

Unpopular Opinion: I have seen a lot didn’t like the inclusion of Potential Slayers, and while I agree they could have been better incorporated/characterized, it was a great way to show Buffy’s final stage of growing up to be ending her chosen one status and projecting/multiplying her powers over the world. 

Biggest Critique: Kennedy was female Riley--the anti-Tara to Riley’s anti-Angel (by ‘anti’ I mean opposite in every way). Kennedy was annoying and immature. Her role, like Riley’s, was less about exploring her as a character and more about her just being stamped as “love interest: lesbian.” 

Favorite Episodes: Beneath You, Lies My Parents Told Me, Touched, Chosen

Season 6: 

Overall Opinion: I said this on Twitter, but I felt like this was Buffy’s The Last Jedi or Empire Strikes Back moment. It is polarizing and dark, deconstructing the tropes it stands on--but by digging to the core of these tropes, it actually makes what’s good about them shine brighter. Everyone’s enemy was the worst versions of themselves. Giles left Buffy, Willow's struggle to relate to the world led to her trying to destroy it, Buffy hurt everyone through her anger, Xander abandoned Anya at the altar, Spike... yeah. It ages well as an integral part of the story, and the Trio were eerily prophetic. 

Unpopular Opinion: Dawn is a great character with a good arc. A traumatized teen acting out and struggling to come to terms with loss and identity? She wasn’t whiny; she was realistic. 

Biggest Critique: Willow’s addiction coding (I’ll discuss this below) and Seeing Red as an episode. I see the argument for both of its controversial scenes from a narrative perspective: Willow starts the season not grieving Buffy but instead being determined to fix it with magic and needs to learn to grieve, but. Still. Bury your gays is not a good look. For the Spike scene... he conflates sex/passion and violence (”love is blood, children” is something he said way back in season 3), but like Tara’s death, it had more to do with Spike (as Tara’s death did for Willow) than with Buffy’s arc, and as for the actual execution... they really botched that. Did it like... have to go on that long or go that far? No. Also, the framing was good, but inconsistent with the rest of the series (Xander to Buffy in the hyena episode, Faith to Xander and to Riley, etc.) 

Favorite Episodes: Once More With Feeling, Smashed, Grave

Season 3 (tied with Season 5):

Overall Opinion: The opening continuity of Buffy meeting Lily/Anne after saving her life in Season 2 was sweet. The Witchhunt episode had really powerful subtext: stories of deaths that aren’t even true are actually demons that possess the town and convince them to turn against their children in the name of protecting the children. It’s a good commentary on, oh, everything in society. Faith’s character arc was fantastic, and her chemistry with Buffy was off the charts (look, I may be Spuffy all the way, but Fuffy has rights). The finale was satisfying in so many ways, seeing the entire graduating class unite to destroy the Mayor and the school with it, symbolizing Buffy et al’s readiness to move on to college. Oz's relationship with Willow was very sweet and meaningful for a first romance for Willow. 

Unpopular Opinion: I actually don’t really have one. Maybe that the miracle in Amends was earned? I think you can make a decent case that Season 3 is the best written of the seasons, but can only truly be thematically appreciated to its full potential in the light of subsequent seasons (which finish Faith’s arc and deconstruct Buffy’s).  

Biggest Critique: It forgot Buffy killed the hyena guy in Season 1, making her continual insistence that she can’t kill people very ????? 

Favorite Episodes: Lovers Walk, Amends, Graduation Day Part 2 

Season 5, which ties with Season 3:

Overall Opinion: The entire season is about family and what it means, from Tara’s to Buffy’s to the Scoobies. I loved Glory aka Enoshima Junko as the Big Bad, I loved Dawn’s interesting meta commentary on retconning (like, the fact that she’s retconned in matters), and most of my ships are still alive. Joyce’s relationship with Spike is one of the most heartwarming aspects, and Spike’s arc’s desire is clearly highlighted: he wants to be seen as a person. The episodes after Joyce’s death are the most honest portrayals of grief I’ve ever seen, and absolutely brutal to watch. 

Unpopular Opinion: Buffy’s choice at the end seems a deliberate inversion of her choice at the end of Season 2 (sacrifice a loved one to save the world), but it actually isn’t: much like at the end of Season 2 where Buffy skips town because she’s devastated after killing Angel and doesn’t want to sort out being expelled, her mom knowing she’s the slayer, and her own trauma, Buffy’s sacrifice here was as much about her wanting the easy way out of relationships, family, college, etc. as it was about saving Dawn. Buffy’s death is coded as a suicide, which Season 6 emphasizes as well. 

Biggest Critique: Like Season 3, I don’t have a lot to critique here. I wish the suicidal coding had been a little more obvious in Season 5 itself, but also I’m not sure it could have been more obvious; it’s pretty apparent if you pay attention. Maybe also that Buffy and Riley’s relationship failing should have been more squarely blamed on Riley, you know, being insecure and cheating. 

Favorite Episodes: Family, Fool for Love, Intervention. 

Season 2:

Overall Opinion: Heartbreakingly tragic but exciting and revealing at the same time. It asked the viewer interesting questions about redemption and forgiveness and atonement through Angel being honest about his past, and then decided to show us his past now reenacted, challenging us. And still, we saw them save him in a parallel to saving Willow in Season 6 (but Season 2 was tragic because it wasn’t enough, while Season 6 was not). Jenny’s death was agonizing, and the scene were Angel watches Buffy, Willow, and Joyce get the news through the window was powerful. We didn’t have to hear them to get the grief. 

Unpopular Opinion: Jenny’s death isn’t a fridging; it works for her arc too when you consider her history. She worked to save the person whose life she was tasked to ruin, and it cost her her own--yet she still succeeded, because Jenny brought joy and wisdom to the show. Kendra’s death, on the other hand... was because they needed the stakes to be high--but we already knew that before she died. So, her death was useless. 

Biggest Critique: The subtext was Not It. It was essentially “do not have sex. Your older boyfriend will lose his soul, kill your friends, you’ll lose your family, your school, your home, and have to kill your true love or else hell will literally swallow earth.” 

Favorite Episodes: School Hard, Passion, Becoming Part 2.

Season 1:

Overall Opinion: I really liked it; it’s just lower on this list because the others are just better. It’s a great introduction to the series and to its characters, from Giles to Buffy to Willow to Jenny to Cordelia. It has great subtext a lot of the time (for example, Natalie French as She-Mantis is a literal predatory bug who engages in predatory behavior with students). Additionally, it subverts the typical YA trope of two guys and a girl, in which the girl is usually the least interesting character. Buffy and Willow were both fully fledged characters from the beginning with distinct strengths (even before Willow became a witch, as she wasn’t one in season 1 yet), while Xander was the more ordinary of the group. 

Unpopular Opinion/Biggest Critique: Xander’s arc showed its first flaws that unfortunately continued throughout the series: his writing was either very good or very indulgent in ways it never was for other characters.  (cough, the hyena episode, cough, in which he gets to skirt responsibility--and acknowledges that he is skirting it--for something the show will later hold others to account for). Xander’s just kind of inconsistent, which weakened his character over all. (Which is why both his love interests--Cordelia and then ultimately Anya--were good for him: they did not indulge him.) 

Favorite Episode: Witch, Nightmares. 

Season 4:

Overall Opinion: it’s still a good season. It’s a good portrayal of college and the growing pains of branching out, the strains of college growth on relationships (romantic and platonic). It shows us the first hints of Spuffy, giving us some serious Jungian symbolism between Spike and Buffy early on, and does well in establishing Xander/Anya and Willow/Tara as beautiful OTPs. Faith and Buffy’s foiling is fantastic. The Halloween episode was very fun as well. However, it suffers because its Big Bad, Adam, is not all that compelling thematically--yet, he could have been. See, the final battle pulls off the Power of Friendship in a really strong way but notably the season does not end there. Instead, it ends on dreams of each character’s worst fears, continuing what we saw in Nightmares in Season 1. Why? Because it shows us that the characters’ wars aren’t against monsters, but monsters of their own making: their flaws. Adam, as a literal Frankenstein, exemplifies this, but it wasn’t capitalized on as well as it could have been. 

Unpopular Opinion: Beer Bad isn’t a bad episode, at the very least because Buffy gets to punch Parker. It’s not one of the series’ best, obviously, but it does give Buffy an arc in that she gets her daydream of Parker begging her to come back, but she has overcome that desire and her desire for revenge. If we wanna talk about bad subtext in Season 4, Season 2′s Not It sex subtext continues in the Where the Wild Things Are episode in this season; it’s a powerful callout of abusive purity-culture churches, until the fact that the shame creates a literal curse undermines the progressive message it’s supposed to send. Also, the Thanksgiving episode (Pangs) is a nightmare of white guilt and Oh God Shut Up White People. 

Biggest Critique: Riley is awful. Like Kennedy, he had “love interest:normal” stamped on him and that was it. The thing is, he could have worked as an Angel foil, representative of the normal-life aspect of Buffy to Angel’s vampire/supernatural aspect, but the writers never explore this and seemed to even try to back away from that later on. They threw all the romantic cliches at the wall to see what sticks, from klutzy “I dropped my schoolbooks, that’s how we met” to cliché lines that had me rolling my eyes. Do you know how bad a romance has to be to make me dislike romantic tropes? 

Favorite Episodes: Fear Itself, Hush, Restless

Villain rankings: 

Dark Willow, the only villain to be truly sympathetic. While the addiction coding was insensitive and, while unsurprising for its time, aged extremely poorly. That said, Willow’s turn to the dark side after Tara’s death worked well for her character and the story: it was believable and paid off what had been building since Season 1's “Nightmares” episode (Willow’s inferiority complex). 

Glory managed to be genuinely terrifying, and humorous/enjoyable too. Her minions and their numerous nicknames for Glorificus were hilarious, as was her intense vanity. Her merging with Ben--a human being who genuinely wanted to be kind and good--added complexity and tragedy to her role. 

The First. A really good take on Satan. The seventh season as well as the First’s first appearance in season 3′s “Amends” had kind of blatant Christian symbolism, and so the First being essentially Satan works. Their disguising themselves as dead loved ones and the subtle manipulation they used to alienate people was really disturbing and well done. 

The Mayor, who was a terrible person but a truly good father. He provided an interesting contrast to the normal ‘bad dad’ bad guy character, in that he provided Faith exactly what the other characters refused to: he saw the best in her and offered her parental support, while the heroes didn’t and wound up pushing her away. 

The Trio, who were villains ahead of their time: whiny fanboy reddit dudebros, basically. The stakes seemed so much lower than fighting Glory, a literal god, the previous season. But that’s why they worked so well for Season 6′s human themes, and were especially disturbing because we all know people like them. I also appreciated the surprisingly sensitive takes on Jonathan and Andrew, who got to redeem themselves, but Warren did not, and I don’t think he should have either. 

Angelus + Drusilla. I’m ranking them below the Trio because Angelus was just sooooo different from Angel that it was difficult for me to feel the same way for him. He was still Angel, so it wasn’t possible to enjoy his villainy, but he also wasn’t nearly as sympathetic as Dark Willow, had no redeeming qualities like the Mayor, and wasn’t as disturbingly realistic as the Trio. However, the emotional stakes were excellently executed with him as the Big Bad, in that you were never quite sure how to feel and it just plain hurt. Also, Drusilla was a favorite recurring character. She was sympathetic and yet batsh*t enough to be enjoyable as a villain at the same time. 

The Master, who was just completely camp and really worked as an introductory villain. He was scary enough to believe he was a threat, and was funny enough to introduce the series’ humor as well. He was, like Glory, an enjoyable Big Bad. 

The Gentlemen, the one-off villains of Season 4′s Hush who were genuinely terrifying. It’s not as if they got a lot of explanation or any backstory, but they didn’t need it. 

Caleb, the misogynist priest. Fitting with the First’s Christian symbolism, Caleb serving as a spokesperson of all bad religious beliefs felt appropriate. He was also a good foil to Warren--being actually supernaturally powered instead of a wannabe--and to Tara’s family in being full-out evil. I despised him. 

Snyder. Okay Snyder is not a Big Bad like Adam is, but let’s face it: Adam is lame compared to the other villains. But Snyder as a principal? He was so irritating and yet really well used in the series to critique overly strict, hypocritical teachers. Like, we all know teachers like him. I loved to hate him, and his ending was so satisfying. 

[itsclydebitches]

V8’s loss is so baffling to me. V3’s loss was disheartening because the heroes did all that they could, but the atmosphere spoke that this wasn’t going to end well. V8 had “Everything is going great!” then Salem and Cinder won…just because!

Pairing these two asks up!

Okay, so we all understand on a plot level why the group lost: Cinder arrived unexpectedly, Neo "kills" Yang, Penny takes a critical hit, the lost Staff obliterates the walkways, etc. There are a ton of reasons why the execution of that plot is stupid imo–How did the group just forget about two of their longest running enemies? How did Neo's single sword hit break Yang's aura and knock her across the walkway and put her into a semi-unconscious state so she couldn't save herself? Why is Jaune, the healer, so easily swayed into killing Penny?–but if we're willing to just go with it, fine. Makes sense. The final two episodes do, in some ways, reflect the tone of Volume 3. Both started on incredibly hopeful notes, only to end in failure. "It's the Vytal festival! We've always fought and come out on top, we can do this! ... omg wait, Pyrrha is dead, Beacon is gone, and Yang has lost an arm." From "We have a plan now! We're implementing it! We always manage to save people in the end! ... omg wait, Team RWBY is dead, Jaune is dead, Penny is dead, two Relics are gone, and our civilians are getting picked off by desert grimm." If we're willing to be very generous in regards to that execution... I buy it. The group nearly succeeded in keeping everyone safe, but the villains screwed things up. We've seen it happen before.

What doesn't work for me–where I think the real problem lies–is in why the heroes were fighting this fight in the first place. I don't mean that in the grand scheme of things (like, why fight Salem) but in the literal, immediate battle that they wound up losing. This isn't a Volume 3 situation where the villains attacked the heroes, they defended themselves, they lost. This situation came about because the heroes were trying to transport an entire Kingdom's worth of people across a deadly walkway. So why were they doing that?

...and that's where we run into the snags.

See, none of the motivations across Volume 8 add up. Yeah, we've discussed Ironwood to death, but it's the same with everyone else too. Ruby initially told Yang that she wanted to use Amity not just to warn other people about Salem, but to call for help. She reiterates this during the staircase talk: I'm childish and I wasted everyone's time because I thought people would come and then they didn't (which, frankly, is not what Ruby should be criticizing about her own leadership, but I digress). So my question is, what was Ruby planning to do with that help? Let's say the other Kingdoms broke all internal logic and did manage to get there to help Atlas. What in the world does "help" mean in this instance? What was her plan once they got there? Ruby acts as if she's just very, very broadly planning to fight Salem with this desired assistance, but then she doesn't fight her. Not just in terms of staying inside when Salem's army attacks, but also in terms of remembering that she has access to a Relic that can create anything... but then using that to run, not try and face Salem down.

Ruby's entire stance isn't just that Ironwood is evil for leaving others behind, but that he's wrong to run at all. She emphasizes that Atlas is just Salem's first target, implying that it's foolish to Kingdom hop when she'll just turn around and attack them somewhere else instead. There were a number of compelling reasons for why they should have left when Ironwood suggested it. We can continue to debate the ethics of that until the end of time. But for the purposes of this conversation, the important takeaway is that by the time Ruby decides to leave, there are even more compelling reasons not to go. By this point they have learned that Salem isn't interested in Mantle at all, only the Relics/Maiden housed in Atlas. By this point they have destroyed her whale, cutting her off from a huge portion of her army. By this point they have turned two of her subordinates against her, as well as obliterating her for a time. By this point they know that Oscar still has some amount of energy left in the cane, giving them another weapon to use against her. By this point everyone has been evacuated to the crater, meaning the heat is no longer a threat. By this point the Hound is dead. By this point they're about a half hour away from capturing Ironwood and saving Penny.

To top it all off, yeah, they don't juDst move everyone from the Kingdom of Atlas, they d is anywhere nearby... the threat is gone. It makes absolutely no sense to me why, at this point in time, after everything else they've succeeded in, after Ruby was waiting on an army of her own, after she reminded everyone that nowhere is safe, they would just up and move an entire Kingdom's worth of people. What's the point of this goal? Based on what we see–based on what the characters know–everyone in Mantle would be safer at home with some hacking assistance to get the heat back on. The people of Atlas would be safer provided the group takes those magical Relics, their Maiden, their Silver Eyes and skedaddles. Why the group decided to move the entire Kingdom when they could have just gone to Vacuo themselves, taking everything Salem wants with them, makes no sense to me. It could have very easily made sense if they'd evacuated at the beginning of Volume 8, or if we established something like Salem's intention to murder everyone if the heroes run... but we didn't get anything like that. So we just have the heroes putting civilians through increasingly dangerous situations (deadly walkway, Cinder's attack, dangerous desert, overpopulation in a hostile city) for seemingly no reason. All while bringing the Staff with them so it can get captured too. The group's decisions of who/what should be where all come across as backwards to me.

To top it all off, yeah, they don't jut move everyone from the Kingdom of Atlas to Vacuo, they sacrifice the Kingdom in order to move them. I've said before that I stand by Robyn's observation that the people are more important than the place, but as established, the point is that this sacrifice never needed to happen. We desperately needed the show to establish not just why the group feels like evacuation is still the best option after so much has changed, but why that reasoning is powerful enough to justify the entire Kingdom's destruction. Because–finally getting around to your point, Anon #2–it's not just about losing a place you're used to living in. It's about the loss of everything Atlas provided for the world: the Dust, the tech, and yes, even the army. It's easy to reduce Atlas to that racist Kindgom wooo glad it's gone... but canonically we have so many characters with positive connections to it. The disability angle is just one, particularly disheartening example. I have no doubt that the show will ignore the logical consequence of the Kingdom's destruction... just like it ignored Yang receiving the arm as a gift, just like Maria's eyes were turned into a joke, just like Penny had to be given a flesh body in order to understand how nice hugs are. Yes, the people and their knowledge live on (if Pietro survived), but they no longer have the resources to provide that work. If helping the rest of the world even makes their top ten priority list when trying to survive homelessness.

The point isn't that the group can't go through with that act, the point is to justify the act for us through their perspectives and have them grapple with what a huge, world-changing decision it is. The fact that no one, but especially Weiss, so much as blinked at this decision, especially when the decision comes across as in many respects unnecessary, is crazy to me. I'd be so much more on board with this choice (even with the "Why are we still evacuating?" question) if the group had a solid plan in place to finish before Atlas touched down on Mantle, they were shown ensuring everyone actually had a portal to use, they demonstrated basic intelligence in remembering the two villains they fought in the last 48 hours (Penny fought Cinder, all of JNOR fought Neo), and were allowed to fight with their canonical strength and skill. Then it really would be a case of the group doing everything right... but still losing, simply because the villains were better. AKA, a Volume 3. As it stands, their reasons for doing this are shaky, thus they don't justify this incredible sacrifice, the group comes across as incompetent for much of the battle, and their total disinterest in what this will do to the rest of Remnant doesn't come across as particularly heroic. That kind of sacrifice needs to be attached to a "We had no other choice" situation. Problem is, they bypassed that moment at the end of Volume 7. By the end of 8, they absolutely had other choices.

Disability has no meaning in RWBY anymore. I think it did–back in Volume 4, Volume 6 when Maria was first introduced–but now the story has reduced disability to something "extra," something to fix, or something to outright ignore. Yeah, we can think about the long-term consequences for disability across Remnant, but at the end of the day, the story entirely forgot about the blind and paraplegic characters trapped on a broken tower. These problems, sadly, run a whole lot deeper than RWBY potentially not capitalizing on the impact of destroying 1/5th of the world.

[codylabs]

Knight Sabers!

But redesigned to use technology from my universe!

Apparently my universe has infinitely-sharp swords and razor wire now!

ABSOLUTELY UNREASONABLY DETAILED breakdown below cut!

Okay, so by 'redesign' I mean essentially just repainting the Class-5 Berserker Frame from my own universe. The C-5 was already fully interchangeable from the elbows and ankles down, and has hardpoints for specialized equipment on the knees, shoulders, and helmet, so this little exercise was as simple as researching cool weapons, then pausing and screenshotting the anime to get the colors right, because I'm naturally garbage at colors and prefer to trust a computer.

Bubblegum Crisis was a big inspiration for the C-5 in the first place, especially on the character-customizable side, so this was a blast.

For info on the C-5's general mechanical design, including what those ankles are for and how the operator gets in and out, go to the original post where I designed it, linked above.

Anyway, I gave each character the weapons and tools that either best match their original loadout, or best match their needs and fighting style if the originals were deemed unrealistic. All together, their equipment is suitable for taking out heavily-armored, slower-moving targets in urban environments, while maintaining a short-range tactical network within the squad.

In order of protaganosity,

Priss, the blue one:

Equipped for close-quarters combat. The large clamps are much stronger and better suited for grappling and crushing than the ordinary waldoes, but their musculature system doesn't leave any room in the gauntlets for integrated machine guns like Nene and Linna have. The claws do have a couple fingers that can unfold off their tops, so she isn't completely incapable of fine dexterity.

Each gauntlet externally mounts a short-barrelled 30mm-calliber cannon, which fires high-powered tungsten-carbide discarding-sabot kinetic perpetrators. The short barrel makes these inaccurate at range, but the high speed, high mass, and low cross section of the rounds make them ideal for piercing armor from mid-range or close range. These replace the weird glowing spears that she shoots in the show. They are essentially just non-glowing spears that travel a lot faster and are MUCH louder. Each magazine holds 6.

Knees are each mounted with a single-use high-explosive anti-tank shaped charge designed to blast a gap in an armor plate, then release another blast through the gap, in a two-stage detonation. Vents in the knee plate prevent armor or operator from being damaged by the kick-back, though the knee plate itself is often destroyed.

Priss being the most reckless and close-quarters combatant of the bunch, her helmet is largest and most tanky; it contain extra padding and armor against blunt force impacts, a minimized sensor suite consisting of a pair of night-vision-capable armored cameras, and the non-retractable variety of communications antennae, and an external speaker so she can yell at cops or something.

She elected against armored skirt plating on the grounds that it looked girly, which leaves a vulnerability in the upper thighs, where a large area of light joint ribbing is exposed. Shouldn't be a huge issue as long as she stays too close for machine guns to target. As you may guess, Priss gets hurt a lot, and no redesign will change that.

Sylia, the silver (mint?) one

Equipped for precision strikes and rapid movement. Her gauntlets, aside from the standard waldos, prominently feature a pair of short swords. Their blades contain neutron-froth graphene, a highly expensive material over 10,000 times stronger than steel, and only 2,000 times as heavy; it only exists in a very thin strip on the leading edge, but is hard enough to maintain a monomolecular sharpness. The rest of the gauntlets are occupied by the muscle systems needed to swing and align the sword, and the pumping system needed to maintain the cold temperature needed to stabilize the neutron froth, and so she doesn't carry machine guns either.

Externally mounts the same kinetic perpetrator launchers as Priss, but with 3-round magazines instead of 6, both to save on weight, and because she doesn't use them nearly as liberally.

Knees and shoulders contain compact gravity dynamos for increased maneuverability. On extended discharge they can allow for limited flight, and on fast discharge can provide a powerful "boost" in any direction, vastly increasing the ability to strike, retreat, strafe, or jump. I know gravity dynamos are pretty out-of-left-field, but they're a thing in my universe ever since exotic mass was discovered on planet Hephaestus.

Sylia's helmet is fairly standard, with comm antennae that can retract during maneuvers, and a sensor suite that can be swapped out depending on mission specifics or how fabulous she feels like being.

Not quite sold on her paint job here. Anyway,

Nene, the pink one

Equipped for fire support and electronic warfare. Gauntlets contain the standard waldo and machine gun loadout, as well as extra feelers and data ports for interfacing with computer systems. I don't know why I drew a little screen folding out of the gauntlet, that doesn't make a lot of sense when you have a HUD, but it looked nice. Speaking of looking nice, the shoulder joints of the C-5 suit actually cannot physically bend into the position that Nene's arms are in right here. So that's some disappointing.

The suit mounts no heavy weapons, but is accompanied by a pair of gravity-propelled escort drones. They normally act in a strictly observational role, but can ram and self destruct with a high-powered shaped charge if needed, which is nice.

The suit is meant to serve as the nerve center of the knights' tactical network. A large suite of antennae extend the range of its comm systems, allowing it to connect with friendly systems at distance, as well as listen in on enemy signals, or jam them completely. A powerful onboard computer handles decryption and data processing from enemy signals.

Those knee pads are smoke grenade and flare launchers. It seemed like a nice thing to have.

Helmet speaks for itself. It contains a vast sensor suite, allowing her to see in perfect dark, use infrared thermal imaging, 'hear' electrical activity, measure radiation sources, and even detect trace chemicals in the air and stream in 4k until Sylia told her to stop.

The first drones were named Sneezy and Sleepy, these two are Happy and doc. Whenever one gets destroyed she names its replacement after the next dwarf. Someday she'll run out of dwarves and will have to resort to pacman ghosts or bionicles.

Linna, the green one

Equipped for high-powered, hit-or-miss type attacks, and high mobility. Linna is their most nimble and physically intuitive operator, so they have her be first to try out any exotic or experimental equipment. If it's any use, she would be the one best suited to find that use, and if not, she would be best suited to get out of dodge.

Gauntlets, as mounted here, are a standard waldo/machine gun unit on her left, and high-explosive anti-tank ram on the right, which uses the same 'rounds' as Priss's knees. Her right gauntlet is the only arm on any of the four to completely lack fingers, so that's amusing. Maybe I could fit a little claw or something but I forgot.

Knees and shoulders mount gravity dynamos for extra mobility, same as Sylia. To decrease weight and increase bodily control, she went so far as to forgo the armored skirt, same as Priss did.

And of course the fancy whip things. They're composed of the same neutron-froth graphene as Sylia's swords, but in the form of micron-diameter razor wire, which would be able to slice through light armor in broader strokes and greater range than a sword. At such a tiny thickness even NFG wears through quickly, so the suit contains spools to replenish it. Although I drew the wires as black lines here, they would be thinner than a human hair, and quite nearly invisible in person, so it would be down to the operator's skill and intuition to keep track of where they actually are, and to keep from getting hurt by them. Speaking of, in the show the whips come out of her HELMET, which (although I appreciate the Sailor Moon pigtail aesthetic) makes absolutely zero sense, would be nearly uncontrollable, hard to swing with any power, and, more to the point, absurdly dangerous. Mounting these whips externally on the gauntlets seemed more effective and responsible. They can roll up and retract when not in use.

So yeaah

This was done as a request for @mechanicalinertia I think, but not actually, because I wanted to draw it too anyway, they just reminded me.

[daraanna]

Festival

When Sakura told him about the festival organized by Hokage to celebrate Konoha’s friendship with Kirikagure, he hadn't expected something like this. The whole thing was like a strange combination of a concert with a party and a barbecue. It was supposed to be made in the style that festivals are organized of the northern region of Water Country. He tried to escape, but as soon as they got there, his wife was kidnapped by Ino to the dance floor. In addition, his daughter was dragged by her friend to the buffet. Sasuke sat down on the bench and watched the rest from a safe distance. Yamanaka and Sakura really enjoyed themselves. Hinata and Naruto were dancing not far from them, although in the case of an idiot, dancing is too much to say. Temari and Shikadai looked much more representative than Hokage and his wife, even though Nara had an expression that clearly showed how troublesome the whole event was to him. Just like his son, who together with Inojin played some card game on one of the distant benches similar to the one on which he was sitting now. Choji was at the buffet until his wife forced him to dance. There were also three girls on the dance floor whom he knew as his daughter's friends. They danced in a small circle with Lee’s son and two boys he did not know. Boruto, who had apparently inherited his dancing skills from his mother was very popular among young kunoichi and civilian girls that came for the party. Sarada broke his deliberations as she sat down beside him with salad to eat.

-Chocho decided to teach Mitsuki how to dance ...

He looked at her, but the girl was busy separating the tomato slices from the rest of her food.

"And you don't want to join them?" He asked.

"Not really..." she replied shifting her plastic plate to him.

“Hn” he replied eating the tomatoes left by her. The head of the Uchiha family definitely understood that you might not like this type of activities. Besides, sitting next to her, he could keep an eye on the teenagers who were checking out his daughter.

They sat like that for a long time. Sarada kept staring at the dance floor while he gave a murderous glare to any boy, who wanted to approach their bench. Until Sakura came back to them. Involuntarily, all his attention shifted to her.

“Who's going to dance me?“ She asked, stretching her hands to both Uchihas, causing them a slight consternation ”I know that you want this~”

"Tch," he grunted, there was no way he could be acting like a fool in front of so many people. Fortunately, this time his wife amazing gift of persuasion lead his daughter on the dance floor. The young kunoichi seemed a little nervous at beginning, but soon she relaxed and danced to the cheerful music with her mother. He smiled gently seeing his two loved ones having a great time. However, he grimaced as soon as he saw the young Uzumaki asking his daughter to next dance. His parental instinct told him to intervene just as the music slowed down. Boruto may have been his trusted student, which did not mean that he would allow him to pick up his little peanut. However, before he managed to reach the middle of the dance floor, someone put his arm around his neck and pulled him against her body. Confused, he looked at his wife, whose face was so close to his.

“Sasuke-kun let's dance” she said in a sweet tone. He knew he was trapped. He was rarely able to deny her anything, but now he was on the mission to protect their child.

“Sakura ... I have to ...”

“Oh Anata, let them have some fun” it did not comfort him at all.

"They are 13 years old!" He gasped in disgust as he watched the idiot's son embrace Sarada around her waist.

"Exactly and I'm sure they won't do anything stupid," she said, grabbing his face, "Sasuke, look at me ..."

He looked at her green eyes, a soft smile, her hair was gathered in a loose bun. She looked lovely, as always.

“Hn.”

Sakura smiled wider and rested her head on his shoulder, and he embraced her with his only hand.

"Just relax and listen to the music" she whispered soothingly. He slowly began to relax, focusing on this moment he was spending with his wife, completely forgetting about the world around them.

.................................................. .............

She felt so awkward. Unfortunately, most of her interactions with Boruto lately have been terribly awkward. She wasn't sure when it started, they had been friends for as long as she could remember, but since when she began to be so aware of their every touch. Since when sight of his blue eyes made her heart beat like mad. Since when did he take over hers thoughts? At first she had no idea what was happening to her, but over time her mind found a terrifying explanation ... She was in love with her teammate. What’s worse, she thought that he noticed this, because he has recently acting really strange towards her. She couldn't let her stupid hormones destroy their  the most important friendship. Even though Boruto was annoying he was her best friend, she couldn't lose him.

“Thanks for the help. I thought they won’t leave me alone!” Hers thoughts were interrupted by his voice. He was right in front of her, his hands holding her waist, while she had no idea what to do with her hands on his shoulders.

"That's what teammates are for, right?" She smiled nervously. Her eyes fell on the group of girls glaring enviously in their direction. As the son of the Hokage, Boruto has always attracted attention. With his character, he made new friends easily, and being handsome, he also made his own fan club in the village. Civilian girls and students of the last grades of the academy, to the genins and younger chunins of their village. Sarada never paid much attention to her appearance. Her clothes needed to be comfortable and neat. She didn't think she was pretty or ugly. She thought she was average, but now she felt insecure. All these girls were really pretty, and she ... she wondered if he find her pretty... Tch... annoying ...

“Is everything okay? “she realized that she had been staring at his shirt for several seconds, and how stiff her whole body was “ I know that the music is a little bit boring, but maybe you want share with me another dance ?” he added, smiling in the same way he always did when he was cheering her up. She couldn't help but smile back.

"Are you sure your fans will allow it?" She teased. The boy just rolled his eyes.

"I should have asked you at the beginning, they are too aggressive ..." he said and she blushed. Even if it's stupid, his words made her happy. When the band started to play something faster, she relaxed a bit. To her surprise, Boruto was very good at dancing and she was able to predict his movements as good as when they fought together. She quickly forgot about her worries. They danced and fooled around. She didn't notice when one song turned into two and then three ... When the melody slowed down again, she wasn't sure how much they danced together. He hugged her waist, but this time they were even closer together. They were both out of breath, as after hard trending. Feeling more confident, she embraced his neck. Looking at him like that, she felt week. He looked so handsome in the suit. In addition, the pink shirt highlighted his blue eyes. Her attention finally caught his lips. She began to wonder what it would be like to kiss him. Their faces were centimetres apart, it would not be difficult to... Suddenly she felt strongly embarrassed by her own thoughts. To avoid doing something stupid (and to hide the flush on her face), she leaned her head against his shoulder, lightly tucking her face against his neck. They swayed slightly to the sounds of a quiet ballad, and although her heart was pounding, she felt wonderful. His presence always gave her a sense of security, he smelled of a combination of the scent of the sea with some cologne probably borrowed from his dad, and his body gave her a pleasant feeling of warmth that she could stay that way forever. However, before the song ended, the boy suddenly moved away from her. She looked at him confused, and he smiled and scratched his head nervously.

“ Aren't you thirsty? I saw a Bubble Tea booth here ... let's go ... “before she could answer, he grabbed her hand and pulled her towards the stalls behind the stage. She wasn't sure what to think about it.

.................................................

The situation was bad. He was sweaty and nervous and felt like he was about to pass out. That's not good way to impress a girl that you maybe have a crush on..

"Are you okay?", She asked when they reached the booth.

"Sure, of course, why are you asking?", He blurted out a little too quickly.

"Um ... You're still holding my hand" he get even more nervous, for two months now, he had been trying to invite her for date... like date date. The problem is that despite how intelligent, person she is. Sarada remained absolutely unaware of his attempts to flirt. The little fan club following him everywhere didn't help. The problem was also that the Uchiha did not seem to notice that she herself was attracting the attention of more and more men. It started after the chunin exam, when his classmates started to have a crush on her. At first it seemed silly to him, after all, it's not that she has changed somehow. However, he quickly began to be disturbed by the boys who were courting her. He felt some strange need to protect her from them. Only after a few months he did realize that he was jealous ...

“Do you want me to stop?” The girl was silent for a long time, and he thought that he would pass out.

"No ... it's okay ..." She replied without looking at him.

"So what for you?", He asked, looking at the blackboard with flavours.

“Black tea with kumquat and passion fruit boba.”

Hearing this, he ordered two drinks, mango and tapioca for himself. He then ignored Sarada's pout as he paid for both of them and the teasing smile the guy sent them. Even after they got their drinks, his friend didn't let go of his hand. It gave him courage.

“Let’s look for a place where we can clearly see the fireworks?”

“Hn. Something far from this crowd ...” she replied finishing her tea and throwing the cup into the trash can on the path leading into Senju Park. He couldn't take his eyes off her. She was wearing a summer dress with spaghetti straps with a pleated skirt that ended just above her knee. It was red with a navy blue belt emphasizing her waist. She looked cute and beautiful, red was definitely her colour. However, as darkness fell, the temperature dropped sharply, and he was able to notice that her arms began to tremble. He took off his jacket and covered her shoulders with it.

“Well, who would have thought that you are a such gentleman ...” she teased.

"As always, of course," he replied, adoring her.

"You're sure you won't be cold," she asked, changing her tone to concerned. She always cared about others. It was one of things that make him love her. He still felt a little lost in his feelings, but he had to tell her before someone else do this before him.

"Sarada ..." he began, but suddenly they heard a loud sound. His friend, frightened, made a very not-ninja-like movement, bumping into him. Instinctively, he grabbed her by the waist and searched for the source of the noise to see colourful lights in the sky. They both burst out laughing, when they saw that they were scared of the fireworks. The colours began to light up the sky creating fantastic patterns. He looked back at her. She looked at the sky with a smile, colours shone in her black irises, giving her an almost mystic appearance. Their eyes met, and for the second time this evening he felt like a force was drawing him to her. Sarada, to his surprise, also moved closer. He wasn't sure which of them closed the gap between them. Their first kiss was soft, short, and rather clumsy, but it was also the greatest feeling of his life. When he opened his eyes, he saw her biting her lip with a slight flush on her face. He wanted to say something but heard someone's loud grunt. He felt himself freeze as he noticed purple-red eyes staring at him ...

.....................................

It was supposed to be a quiet dance party and it was like that until her husband and Naruto decided to compete in which of them is the best dancer. Unfortunately, despite their great efforts, none of them proved to be really gifted. All the competition only took their time and energy. They were supposed to go home after the fireworks, but Sarada was nowhere to be found and when they finally find them, they accidentally turned out to witness their daughter's first kiss. While Sakura herself found it cute, her husband didn't take it so easily. However, before he did something stupid, his daughter stood between him and Boruto, also with an active sharingan. It make Sasuke freeze. All he said was they were coming home.

Sarada answered him only with a short "Tch" but after saying goodbye to Uzumaki, she returned home with them. Unfortunately, she now had two pouted Uchihas in the house. Sarada immediately ran to her room, while her husband stayed downstairs in the kitchen complaining about protecting some innocent peanuts? She couldn't help but sigh. Tomorrow she would have to talk to them seriously.

................................

I’m not sure is it more Borusara fic or overprotective Papasuke fic, also I'm not sure if I broke the rules, I hope I didn’t^^’ Okay in the end I edited it, I just felt too guilty XD

Also I’m so happy to see so much Borusara content! This week is a true celebration of our favorite ship!

@borusaraweek2021

[baoshan-sanren]

Chapter 55

Emperor Wei WuXian And His Terrible, Horrible, No Good, Very Bad Birthday

Google Docs file

Prologue | Chapter 1 | Chapter 2 | Chapter 3 | Chapter 4 | Chapter 5 | Chapter 6 | Chapter 7 | Chapter 8 Part 1 | Chapter 8 Part 2 | Chapter 9 | Chapter 10 | Chapter 11 | Chapter 12 | Chapter 13 | Chapter 14 | Chapter 15 Part 1 | Chapter 15 Part 2 | Chapter 16 | Chapter 17 | Chapter 18 | Chapter 19 | Chapter 20 | Chapter 21 | Chapter 22 Part 1 | Chapter 22 Part 2 | Chapter 23 | Chapter 24 | Chapter 25 | Chapter 26 | Chapter 27 | Chapter 28 | Chapter 29 | Chapter 30 | Chapter 31 | Chapter 32 | Chapter 33 | Chapter 34 | Chapter 35 | Chapter 36 | Chapter 37 | Chapter 38 | Chapter 39 | Chapter 40 | Chapter 41 | Chapter 42 | Chapter 43 | Chapter 44 | Chapter 45 | Chapter 46 | Chapter 47 | Chapter 48 & Chapter 49 | Chapter 50 | Chapter 51 | Chapter 52 | Chapter 53 | Chapter 54

“I want to see A-Yuan.”

WangJi suppresses a sigh, and makes no response.

Jiang WanYin, who has likely never suppressed a single thing in his life, bristles like a cat, “Are you deaf, as well as stupid? The Lan Sect Leader has ordered that you rest. Granny Wen has ordered that you rest. You are not going.”

Slumped against the pillows, Wei Ying does appear feeble and weak, his body motionless in a way that suggests an exhaustion too deep for needless activity. It had taken a long time to remove all the trappings of rank necessary for the audience he had held. It had not taken nearly as long as the initial preparation, but long enough where even Lady Jiang had looked worn down by the process. WangJi’s task during this time had involved standing on the other side of the screen, listening to the faint mutters, and being handed layers upon layers of silk. The disrobing process had resulted in a succession of whispering, slithering sounds, both of silk against silk, and silk against Wei Ying’s skin, sounds that will doubtlessly haunt him in his dreams.  

He is not precisely tired, but he is beginning to feel brittle in an unfamiliar way. The day had been long and stressful, allowing no time for contemplation and reflection. There will be consequences to the assistance the Lan Sect had provided to the Emperor. There will be consequences to such a blatant attack on the Divine Ruler, and these consequences may range anywhere from a set of executions, to an outright war. There will be consequences to Wei Ying’s actions today, the audience he had held, his defense of Wen RuoHan, his order for the immediate release of the Wen Sect from the Imperial dungeons.

Only days ago, WangJi would have disregarded the majority of these events as issues beyond his scope of understanding and responsibility, but today, he cannot. Soon enough, this will be his world as well. The Second Young Master of a disgraced Sect need only obey. The Emperor Consort must understand the complexities of ruling an Empire, the consequences of each decision made, the hierarchy governing the sect relations, and the full scope of the delicate balancing act that keeps the Empire peaceful and prosperous.

This is the cost of marrying Wei Ying, a price that WangJi is more than willing to pay. But it is a cost made no less overwhelming by his willingness.  

Wei Ying’s expression turns stubborn, “He is alone among strangers, thinking I am on my death bed. I want to see him.”

“Wei WuXian,” Jiang WanYin says tightly, “if you can get up right now and walk out of this palace on your own two feet, you can go see A-Yuan, or go straight to hell for all I care.”

Lady Jiang may have acquiesced to his request, but she had taken her leave. The Imperial guards could have been ordered to carry Wei Ying anywhere he desires to go, but this would defeat the purpose of keeping the child hidden.

Wei Ying had been ordered to sleep.

WangJi thinks, if he could only be persuaded to close his eyes and stop speaking for a moment, the exhaustion he is trying so hard to ignore would accomplish the rest.

“Lan Zhan,” Wei Ying whines, turning his head, his eyes large and shining, “I want to see A-Yuan.”

Wisps of hair are stuck to his cheek, curving around the line of his jaw. His face is pale, but his lips are no longer bloodless, hovering just on the verge of a pout. WangJi knows that this is an expression Wei Ying has used before; he has seen it turned on Lady Jiang, and he has seen it throughly shatter her resolve. He remembers thinking Lady Jiang too easily swayed by such obvious tactics. He remembers thinking that he, himself, would never fold so easily by a mere hint of a pout.

WangJi is a fool. Love must permanently remove the most essential parts of one’s brain, because he can say absolutely nothing in response to Wei Ying’s plea.

Instead, his mind unhelpfully provides the memory of Wei Ying’s braid coiled in his lap. Wei Ying’s temple pressed to the side of his neck. The rich scent of ripe pears. The curve of Wei Ying’s waist through the heavy silk of the Imperial dragon robes.  

Underneath these memories, his mind is hopelessly sifting through possible solutions to the issue. Wei Ying most certainly can not walk out of the palace on his own two feet. He can not cross his own chambers without being supported, and would likely need to be carried any longer distances. A-Yuan cannot be brought to him, as the situation at court is still dangerously tense, and the child must remain hidden.

“If you attempt this,” WangJi says carefully, “you will fall ill before you reach him. It will scare the child, to see you so weak. But if you must go see him, I will carry you.”

Jiang WanYin splutters.

Wei Ying’s eyes widen.

The expression on his face, the baffled disbelief slowly melting into a familiar softness, is so open, so transparent, that WangJi feels his own face heat in response. He is suddenly finding the embroidery on Wei Ying’s bed curtains extremely fascinating.

“You are both right,” Wei Ying says after a few moments, “I should not go tonight. Tomorrow is soon enough.”

“Ugh,” Jiang WanYin says, “Now I feel ill too. Just go to sleep.”

“You leave first,” Wei Ying says, “I want to speak to Lan Zhan.”

Jiang WanYin makes a noise. It is a wordless one, but it still manages to perfectly express a hefty dose of disgust. He leaves quickly, as if afraid that Wei Ying will begin to speak to Lan Zhan before he has managed to make his exit.

Wei Ying reaches out, but seems to do so unthinkingly, the motion immediately interrupted by a hiss of pain. Perhaps the wrist injury is not the most serious one he had suffered, but WangJi has noticed him forget that particular pain often enough, where each resurgence catches him by surprise. In two steps, he finds himself by the bed, but once there, he is forced to stop and practice some self-restraint.

“You promised to be more careful,” he says, “The Head Healer should have strapped that arm to your chest.”

He means it as an admonishment, but his voice does a poor job conveying anything other than worry.

“It does not hurt,” Wei Ying lies with a smile, “Come sit next to me. That way, I do not need to move much.”

Only moments ago he had insisted that he is well enough to visit A-Yuan. Now, he is too weak to move on his own, and must have WangJi sit by his side.

WangJi wonders why these brazen tactics, which would be abhorrent in anyone else, are so irresistibly appealing when employed by Wei Ying. He wonders if there is anything about Wei Ying that will ever be unappealing. He is, again, forced to consider the possibility that love makes one unbearably stupid, and that this is precisely why he has already moved to sit down by Wei Ying, without giving the consequences of such action any further thought.

Wei Ying reaches for him again, the moment he has settled on the side of the bed, and WangJi takes his hand carefully, supporting the splinted wrist with his palm.

“You said you would not move.” 

“I forgot,” Wei Ying says shamelessly, his fingers warm against WangJi’s pulse.

“You should sleep,” WangJi admonishes.

“I will,” Wei Ying says quickly, “but I have not-- had the chance to speak to you. After-- the Gifting Ceremony.”

His gaze lowers to their joined hands, fingers restless against WangJi skin, despite the fact that even this small movement must pain him.

“A great deal has happened,” he goes on, the words rushed, “There is so much I was not aware of before. About YanLing DaoRen, and his use of resentful energy, and this-- apparent affinity for demonic cultivation present in his descendants. The Lan Sect takes pride in the purity of their cultivation techniques. Over the centuries, they alone have remained unblemished by unorthodox practices.”

He falls silent then, letting WangJi try and make sense of the words on his own. This feels much akin to Wei Ying’s proposal, where WangJi must separate the words, then place them in a different order, just to discern the meaning behind them.

Once he does, however, he feels frustration and fondness flood him in equal measures.

“I still want to marry you, Wei Ying.”

“You--“ Wei Ying shifts, “Are you not worried? This affinity does not bother you?”

“Will you begin practicing demonic cultivation?” WangJi counters.

“What? Of course not!”

“Then it does not matter,” WangJi says firmly.

“How can it not matter?” Wei Ying says, agitated, “YanLing DaoRen nearly destroyed the Empire. He slaughtered thousands. How can you be sure that his madness will not become my own?”

WangJi, prepared to call his assertion utter nonsense that it is, pauses before speaking. It had not occurred to him that Wei Ying would be so throughly rattled by Nie HuaiSang’s revelation.  

In retrospect, it seems obvious that this had to have been the purpose of Xue ChengMei’s story. To sow doubts and fears, not just in Wei Ying, but in all those closest to the Emperor. A filthy tactic, meant to cause chaos and uncertainty. It is no wonder that Song ZiChen had demanded no one speak to the boy.

“Wei Ying,” WangJi says carefully, “You are not YanLing DaoRen. I am not Lan ZhongYi. We exist under the shadow of those who came before us, and bear the burdens they have placed on our shoulders. But we are not them.”

Wei Ying’s breath stutters, his fingers pressing against WangJi’s wrist.

“But--“

“We spoke of Lan ZhongYi, and the reasons behind his actions. Do you remember what I said to you?”

“My mother did not kill Xu XiaoYun,” Wei Ying says softly.

“And I did not kill the Empress,” WangJi responds.

The words feel much lighter than he had imagined they could be, if ever spoken out loud.

Wei Ying falls silent, a rare enough occurrence where WangJi allows it to happen. There are now dark shadows under his eyes, and it takes a great deal of restraint not to issue another reminder about the necessity for rest, and long, uninterrupted sleep. Perhaps Wei Ying’s stubbornness requires a different type of approach. WangJi is starting to believe that any firm insistence on a specific course of action is more likely to propel Wei Ying in a completely opposite direction. This is something that will require further thought.

“You still want to marry me?” Wei Ying says, the corner of his mouth now slightly lifted, an expression that is not quite serious, but not quite teasing either.

“Yes,” WangJi says, “I still want to marry you.”

Wei Ying grins, shifting a little closer, “Will you allow me to make the announcement? Before the Lan Sect departs?”

WangJi is certain that the events of the last few days have already reached Cloud Recesses. The delay to consult with the Elders seems pointless now, as the rumors of the betrothal have been running rampant since the last Sect Leader meeting. Uncle’s actions, during and after the Gifting Ceremony, must have only served to reinforce these rumors.

It is difficult to decide which course of action will result in greater impropriety. An immediate announcement, or a lengthy delay, during which the entire court will ruthlessly judge his every interaction with the Emperor. The Emperor who is wholly unashamed of expressing his affection, and insists on behaving as if they are already betrothed.

WangJi sighs, “You must obtain uncle’s approval for the announcement.”

“Will you come and visit A-Yuan with me tomorrow?”

WangJi nods. It is a small enough request, and he is fond enough of the child where a visit would not be a chore.

“Will you spend the night?”

“Wei Ying!”

It is unbearable, the sheer number of times Wei Ying can make his face heat in a single day. How can an Emperor be so utterly shameless?

“Ahh, Lan Zhan, do not be angry. I only meant that you should stay in the Imperial chambers. What if I were to fall ill during the night and need assistance?”

Carefully, WangJi places his hand back down, and rises from the bed, “If this is the case, we should summon the Head Healer right now, and request that she spend the night in the Imperial chambers.”

Wei Ying splutters, “Wait-- that--“

“I would not want to take the chance of you falling ill during the night.”

“Lan Zhan,” Wei Ying whines, “Why are you so cruel? Can I not ask my future husband to spend the night with me?”

“No, you may not.”

“What if I were to find myself unable to sleep, and in need of company?”

“Summon the Royal Companion. I am sure he will be equal to the task.”

“But--“

WangJi bows deeply, “Good night, Your Majesty. I will take my leave now.”

“Lan Zhan!” Wei Ying’s voice follows him out into the hall, “Hey, Lan Zhan! Wait!”

WangJi closes the door behind him, and turns to the nearest guard, “His Majesty requires the presence of the Royal Companion. And the Head Healer.”

The guard does not question the order.

[fullmetalscullyy]

royai week day 3 - valediction

summary: different times roy and riza have said goodbye to one another over the course of their lives

rated: t | words: 3053 | tags: royai, young!royai, pre-canon, post-canon, ishval, reunions, goodbyes, evolution of a name, angst, hurt/comfort

read on ao3 | read on ffnet

The first time she’d said goodbye to him properly, everything was cold. The old tree by the gate at the end of her father’s path was bare of leaves, the branches exposed and lacking warmth from greenery. The leaves were gone now, compressed into a brown mulch on the soil below. The sky above threatened them with heavy snowfall, therefore hurrying their farewell along. The clouds looked angry and grey as the frigid wind carried them towards her home, unwelcome.

She squinted up at the sky, worrying for her friend and hoping he didn’t get stuck in the oncoming forecasted snowstorm, that his journey to Central didn’t get delayed. She knew how much he’d been looking forward to it. The weather would hinder his plans if the snow did fall as hard as predicted, and she was already trying to think of a way to possibly help him.

Glancing over at her friend, she noticed his contemplative expression as he too noticed the potential trouble from above. His eyes tightened as he scrutinised the clouds before his brows furrowed. His shoulder rose and fell in a quick sigh, and a quiet scoff passed over his lips, puffing out hot air to create steam.

I like doing that, he’d grinned at her once. It’s fun! It makes me feel like I’m a dragon, he’d laughed with childish glee. Something she hadn’t experienced in a long time.

Before, when he’d left, it had only been for a short trip back home to visit his aunt and his sisters. There was a timeframe and a set date of his return. One she always looked forward to. Her father only grunted and gave him a dismissive wave before turning and shuffling back into this study. A man like him wouldn’t understand his apprentice’s desire to return home to visit his family. The concept was foreign to him.

It may not have been once… She liked to think that at some point in her father’s life, there had been love and laughter. There had to have been, for her to be here, right? He must have been happy at some point.

She was not delusional however the wonder was still there. It was a curiosity. Her mind critically analysed his behaviour when she got a quiet moment and questions always sparked from her findings; what was he like when her mother was living? How did he act with her? How had he acted once she was born? Had he been happy? Had he been angry instead, due to the sudden interruption of his research?

These were questions that would never, ever, be answered. And she’d made peace with that years ago. She’d had to. There was no time for such sentimentality in her father’s life.

“Riza?”

Her eyes zeroed in on his. His eyebrows were upturned as he stared back at her. She didn’t know why. Didn’t understand his sudden hesitation or why his lips were pressed into a thin line. He paused, before his expression relaxed with his exhale.

“I’ll see you soon,” he promised her. His expression set with determination, and he nodded his head with absolution.

She believed him. She just didn’t know when. There was no timeline for his absence, no way of knowing how long he’d be gone for, nor when he would return.

Or if he would return.

She was left with nothing to look forward to this time.

Her father didn’t care. He was done with his apprentice. His goals and ideals did not align with her father’s, so there was nothing more to teach. Her father was unwilling to do so after discovering his apprentice’s motives. So, now it was time for him to leave.

Just like she’d always secretly feared.

With him gone, the house would be quieter. Deathly quiet. The only sound that would break her silent world would be her father’s wracking coughs. They would reverberate through their crumbling home, as if the sound were shaking the foundations itself, breaking it apart. In her world, as sombre and silent as it would be now without her companion, it would be fair to compare her father’s ailment to an earthquake, threatening to destroy everything she had left. The sound would curl around her heart and grip it hard. It would be unforgiving because it was no normal cough he had. She was no doctor, but she knew that much. She was the one who cleaned up his bloody handkerchiefs.

Of course, he also refused to see a professional about it. He had no time. Alchemy came first, before everything else.

Before her.

“Riza?”

Her vision cleared and she returned to the present with a jerk. Her companion was looking at her with concern. She wished he wouldn’t, but it was no use. He’d always shown her care and attention. He’d been a good friend. One she’d really… really miss.

She’d be alone once more.

A sense of foreboding settled upon her bones. Something told her that thought would occur to her again, very soon, as her father started coughing loudly from somewhere deep within the bowels of their home.

“Goodbye.” She finally found her voice. It was quiet, barely carrying the length between them, but he straightened his spine in response. Satisfied she appeared to be relatively okay, he nodded one final time.

After he turned away he didn’t look back. She watched as the distance grew between them, noticing how his shoulders had tensed and risen up towards his ears as his head dipped down to look at the ground below him as he walked.

*          *          *          *          *          *          *          *          *

“Cadet –”

She didn’t want to talk to Major Mustang. She was tired in more ways than one. Her muscles quivered every so often while taking a step. Her body needed rest, it needed sleep – it was begging her for it – but she couldn’t. If she closed her eyes, the nightmares would come and the images, memories, from her time here in the desert, would flash beneath those dark lids.

Once, falling asleep had been a comfort to her. It allowed her to relax everything and let the stresses of the day go. There were many growing up, so relieving herself of them had always been welcome. While drifting off, she forgot about her tasks for the next day and didn’t need to think about caring for her father. Falling asleep was her time, and hers alone. No one intruded on it or interrupted her space. No one demanded her attention or her time, forcing her to give it up in order to look after another. It was for her.

Now that was gone.

Her mind was weary, as young as it was, with all she’d seen and done in this desert. Of all the death and despair she’d caused. Two things she’d have to carry with her for the rest of her life, alongside the guilt. They were like lead weights, shackled to her ankles. Although figurative, they may as well have been a physical reality to the soldier. Her steps were heavy enough as she made her way across the sands.

“Cadet Hawkeye.”

He commanded her attention. He always had, but this was different. Things were different now between them, which to be honest, was expected out here. It was an order, not the gentle request for her attention he’d used before in a soft voice. There was no respectful tone or accompanying easy, friendly smile. His expression was as battle hardened as hers. His eyes were tired and tortured – just like hers. They weren’t the same people they’d once been. Their innocence was gone, their idyllic visions and dreams along with it.

“My train is about to leave, sir.” Her voice was subdued. There was no energy to speak louder than was necessary. She was leaving. ‘Going home’, the others called it. She had no home to return to though. Nothing and no one was waiting for her outside of the desert.

“If I could just speak to you for –”

The train’s whistle loudly interrupted them. A blessing, in her eyes. A curse in his.

“I need to go.”

She turned away and boarded. It was a quick escape, but a tactical one. She just wanted to leave. This was the first out she’d been given since entering the desert and she wouldn’t give up the opportunity.

Coward, her mind whispered.

His perseverance had once been endearing and welcome to her as an isolated child after she’d retreated out from her shell, but now it was making a lump form in her throat. The Major must have watched her walk down the train to her empty seat because he appeared beside her at the window, simply watching, which she did back to him with mild surprise.

“I’ll see you soon, okay?”

It was difficult to make out what he was saying through the thick glass, but she did manage to understand his message over the rabble of her fellow soldiers. That phrase transported, jolted, her back in time – back to a period that was just as lonely as she felt now.

She pondered if it sounded like a threat but judging by the earnest expression on his face and the look in his haunted eyes, it was the opposite. He wanted to see her. They’d always found some kind of comfort in each other before. Now, was the Major seeking out the same thing?

Tears threatened to well up in her eyes as the world around her died down to a murmur.

“I promise, Cadet.”

She nodded, believing that once again he would keep his promise. Their last reunion hadn’t been under particularly… joyous circumstances, at her father’s funeral. But he’d still kept his promise.

Only it had led to this. Her, being here, in the desert with him.

His expression turned pleading as the train started to move and pull out of the station. He was still waiting on a reply or a reaction to his question.

She nodded slowly.

But perhaps it had been too slow a movement. She wasn’t sure if he’d seen it.

Major Mustang took a few steps and followed alongside the train before he disappeared from view. Chasing after the moving train would be futile.

But he’d still tried.

She kept staring out the window where his face had been.

A tear tracked down her cheek.

She didn’t know what she wanted. She didn’t know what she’d do now.

The crushing weight of her new reality was suffocating her, but one thought broke through the fog in her mind. One thing gave her enough hope so that she could suck in enough oxygen to breathe again.

I’ll see you soon.

She’d make sure of it. She’d take him up on his offer.

She needed him.

This wouldn’t be her end. Not after all they’d done. They had to make it right. He had to do what he’d described what felt like an eon ago at her father’s grave. She’d make sure it came to pass.

*          *          *          *          *          *          *          *          *

One order: Don’t die.

That was one Riza would fight tooth and nail to obey. After today there was still so much to be done. No business would be left unfinished. She’d follow the Colonel into hell, after all. They were doing that now, on the Promised Day, with one, simple directive to follow. She could do that for him. He needed his team behind him to continue upwards and beat the enemy.

The Colonel looked at each of them in turn. Fuery nodded in response, offering up a “yes, sir!”, and Breda did the same.

Finally, his eyes settled on her.

Riza nodded once. Determination had already set in her face, and she shifted her rifle to grip it more securely within her grasp, silently announcing she was ready for action.

In reply, the Colonel nodded, approving of their response, and glanced over at the other two members of their team. “Good,” he stated. “We move out now. Lieutenant, scout ahead and we’ll finish up here.”

Another nod. “Yes, sir.”

His eyes lingered on hers a moment longer as Breda and Fuery started to douse the lamps within the tunnel. Riza’s lingered as well.

“Be careful,” he murmured. It was only loud enough for her to hear, but even if the others did, they wouldn’t comment or think it out of place.

“I will. You too, sir.”

“I’ll see you soon, Lieutenant.”

Her heart thudded inside her chest, remembering the weight those words had carried for her throughout the years. His dark eyes also revealed more than his simple, unassuming promise let on. She could see how they changed slightly in shape, turning into a more pointed look to add more emphasis to his statement as he patiently awaited her response.

“See you soon, Colonel,” Riza promised.

It was the way they said goodbye. Not with a fuss or a grand display. It always had been. There was always a promise. An indication of a future between them both, even if it was as simple as the promise they’d made to each other in that darkening tunnel.

A simple nod of the head was used to communicate her orders were understood. It was acknowledged that there would be hell to pay if they weren’t followed – for both parties. It was a promise that they would make it through. She’d do it for him, to push him further forward, and he’d do it for her, to achieve what he’d set out to do so many years ago after her father’s funeral.

They would do it so they could go on together.

*          *          *          *          *          *          *          *          *

Arms were holding her, rocking her back and forth gently. In quite the contrast, Roy’s hands were clutching her torso tightly, crushing one arm against his body, but that discomfort was easing with every passing second, along with all the other feelings and sensations she was currently experiencing.

“Riza…”

He was calling out to her, begging her to return.

Using her first name.

“Come back,” Roy whispered in her ear. “I’m not –” He was suddenly choked, his words catching within his throat. “I’m not saying goodbye to you again. Not now. Not like this. Never like this.”

An exhale left her lungs, leaving her feeling lighter.

“Don’t leave me,” he breathed so close into her ear, begging. “I need you. I love you.”

I love you too.

Riza was dragged back to reality in a flash of blue light. Pain flared in her neck and made her grimace. Arms lifted her from lying on her back, holding her close, while Roy pressed a kiss against her cheek.

Her mind couldn’t comprehend it. Not only was her sudden consciousness jarring, but his actions threw her completely. There was no time to dwell on them, as Roy pulled away and gazed down at her. His expression was filled with wonder and joy as he looked down upon her face, and seeing the love in his eyes, directed completely and unabashedly at her, brought a smile to her own face.

“You got my signal,” she breathed, happy her plan had succeeded.

Roy nodded and his expression softened.

“Welcome back, Lieutenant,” he greeted softly. The tiniest smile graced his lips, but his relief was clear. It was present in his dark eyes that looked wet and shining in the dim light.

The use of her title was a contrast to the way he was holding her so tightly and tenderly. But in their world, where they were restricted by laws and duty and guilt, that had become something of a name to her. It was more than just a rank. It was what he called her. Still, hearing Roy say her first name meant the world to Riza. It held a gravity to it that she couldn’t even begin to explain, but she cherished every utterance of it from his lips. It never happened, so they’d found a system that worked instead. Lieutenant and Colonel. Riza and Roy. They were one in the same, but from different times in their lives. A clear, defining line between both periods and their duty to one another and their country.

“I was ordered not to die,” she explained simply, smiling up at him.

She spied his single tear as it fell down his cheek. It was unexpected, but not unwelcome. Riza wanted to remove it for him, but her body wouldn’t cooperate just yet. Instead, she watched it fall to his chin, then moved her gaze back up to his.

“Did you…?”

Roy shook his head. “The young alchemist, Mei, helped you.”

Riza nodded. She tried to look around to find her but couldn’t move far. She grimaced once more.

“Easy, Riza,” Roy soothed quickly.

Her stomach flipped. That was twice he’d said her name now. She glanced up at him, noting once again how he was without shame upon doing so. She lifted her eyebrows in response but received no acknowledgment or reaction. He ignored her obviously questioning gaze. Giving up, Riza said nothing further about the use of her name.

“Thank you, for following my order,” he murmured. Even a quiet laugh left him.

“Even into hell, sir. I wasn’t ready to say goodbye just yet.”

“I don’t know what I would do without you,” he confessed.

“You’d be okay,” she reassured.

But Roy shook his head. “I really wouldn’t.”

“You’ve got a good team –”

“No,” he interrupted, making eye contact with her. “Personally.”

Riza paused, realising his meaning.

“I really wouldn’t,” he repeated.

“I need you. I love you.”

Riza met his gaze head on, the edges of her eyes softening as she felt warmth spread through her chest and into her stomach simply looking at him. She was suddenly bundled into his arms once more and Riza let her eyes flutter closed.

“I love you too,” she whispered against his cheek. It was spoken in a breath, so quietly, but she knew Roy had heard her, because his arms squeezed her even tighter.

He was safety and comfort. He would protect her for the moment while she recovered. Their roles were switched, but Riza didn’t mind. She could use the warmth and support he always offered. It was always welcome and sorely needed after her short brush with death.

[butwhatifidothis]

So @nilsh13​ decided that I was in need of torture today and sent me a take about Claude that quite frankly blew my ass out with how absolutely wack it is.

The take in full (two comments, under the cut):

“From what I've gathered of Claude's motivation, it's to prove himself to his Almyran family by entering Fodlan and destabilizing it from the inside. That's why he was trying to look into the Church's secrets and why he talked about possibly learning to harness the power of the sword of the creator for himself. I also think that's why he tries to stay "neutral" in routes not his own. I think he's just trying to hold out until he feels like he can make his move and overwhelm who's left. In VW with Byleth he feels like he can take initiative, and so hijacks the work of Edelgard's Revolution right from under her by killing her in Enbarr. This led to some of the fandom claiming that Claude took Fodlan bloodlessly, when really he just let others do the hard work then swooped in. I also think the reason he doesn't want to work with anyone is that he wants to claim that taking Fodlan was completely on him, no allies. That's why he lets Byleth become the new Archbishop, they're an ambitionless puppet that can be easily be manipulated by him, unlike Edelgard, or even Dimitri.

I don't think Claude really cares about Fodlan or it's well-being, he's there for himself. He just comes off as a completely disingenuous ass, yet because eof Joe Zieja and poor narrative focus, he's tricked the fandom into thinking he's actually a decent person.

(for context) A reply says:  Although I don't really agree, you see in both AM and CF that he trusts Dimitri and Edelgard respectively to achieve some of his dreams. I never felt that he was in it for himself; just like Edelgard, he's motivated by a better future for Fodlan, it's just that he uses more sneaky methods rather than Edelgard's more direct approach.

“Nah, I don't buy it. One of the flaws of the writing I think is that we never never see Claude pushed to the absolute edge like the other characters. It's almost like he doesn't care about his goals. But then you find out that's just an Almyran thing. They're warmongerers, but they value their lives more than winning in the end.

So yeah, for Claude, this doesn't mean as much to him as it does to Edelgard, who lives in Fodlan and wants to see it bettered for it's people. If Claude genuinely wanted that, I think he would've allied with Edelgard, since her overthrowing the Church would lead to the kinds of societal changes he claims to want. But he doesn't, because he's selfish and wants the win for himself if he can take it. He doesn't understand that war is people fighting for their home, which is why he's so shocked Hilda was willing to die for his bs claims. I sincerely don't believe Claude cares about Fodlan. He might care about a handful of folks he met, but they're mostly just a means to an end.

Claude is in Fodlan for his own gain in Almyra. Not for Fodlan's sake. He's just fortunate Edelgard started and became the face of war so he didn't have to do it himself.

Very frankly, fuck Claude. I agree with Edelgard. I understand Seiros. I pity Dimitri. No nuance with Claude, fuck him with a rusty lance.

Sooooo there’s a whole lot to unpack here.

“ From what I've gathered of Claude's motivation, it's to prove himself to his Almyran family by entering Fodlan and destabilizing it from the inside. That's why he was trying to look into the Church's secrets and why he talked about possibly learning to harness the power of the sword of the creator for himself. “

And he does this by... stabilizing the Alliance, that was going to fall apart with its head Major House falling to ruin without a proper heir. By being the literal, as-stated-by-Edelgard-herself reason that the Alliance is still stable. Right, okay, makes perfect sense actually. And like..... how do you get something so backwards? Claude isn’t looking into the Church’s secrets because he wants to destabilize Fodlan, it’s because he thinks the Church is the reason for Fodlan’s reluctance to have deep interactions with foreigners/outsiders. He thinks the Church is hiding involvement in big events like the Lance of Ruin and wants to “expose” them for their wrong-doings. And him wanting the SotC is because he thinks it would give him clout, like him wanting to wield Failnaught. Him being able to wield the literal most famous, renown relic in Fodlan’s history would give him so much sway in way more than just oonga boonga physical strength - Byleth being able to is the entire reason people look to them as a religious savior, since it’s physical proof that they have connections to one of the greatest “Heroes” of Fodlan’s history.

“ I also think that's why he tries to stay "neutral" in routes not his own. I think he's just trying to hold out until he feels like he can make his move and overwhelm who's left. In VW with Byleth he feels like he can take initiative, and so hijacks the work of Edelgard's Revolution right from under her by killing her in Enbarr. This led to some of the fandom claiming that Claude took Fodlan bloodlessly, when really he just let others do the hard work then swooped in. “

Or maybe he tries to stay neutral in the war because he doesn’t want his people embroiled in it?? Which fits with how he orders his men to fall back whenever it looks like it’s getting too dangerous?? Like, you do realize that it’s entirely possible to realize you don’t have the power to fight back and also want to keep your men safe because you care about them, right? That those aren’t inherently contradictory statements?

And what are you actually talking about “he just let others do the hard work then swooped in” you mean the “hard work” of Edelgard’s that he explicitly says destroys his dreams? Specifically mentioning how it was her excessive force that was fucking him over? Edelgard instigating war isn’t “hard work” for Claude, it’s something that is actively holding back his ambitions and something that he must get over. He has to improvise his plans around Edelgard’s war because it goes against his wants. The war is not something inherently positive for Claude, it’s something that he worked into his plans because otherwise he’d be fucked.

“ I also think the reason he doesn't want to work with anyone is that he wants to claim that taking Fodlan was completely on him, no allies. That's why he lets Byleth become the new Archbishop, they're an ambitionless puppet that can be easily be manipulated by him, unlike Edelgard, or even Dimitri. “

Which is why a majority of his endings state that he’s leaving Fodlan to his friends, plural, and why none of them state him having influence over Fodlan’s ruling (hence the “entrusting Fodlan” part of the majority of his endings), and why his Lorenz one actually states he’s leaving it to Lorenz specifically, and why literally none of his endings say anything about him taking full credit for shit all, and why in AM he literally leaves the Alliance and the future of Fodlan to Dimitri, and also why he literally, factually, actually works with Dimitri in AM and wants to in VW. This is. So fucking stupid.

“ I don't think Claude really cares about Fodlan or it's well-being, he's there for himself. He just comes off as a completely disingenuous ass, yet because eof Joe Zieja and poor narrative focus, he's tricked the fandom into thinking he's actually a decent person.“

I might actually have a stroke. 

like damn lmao like they don’t think it’s good writing but everything else is pretty close

Second comment 

Reminder for context, this reply:  Although I don't really agree, you see in both AM and CF that he trusts Dimitri and Edelgard respectively to achieve some of his dreams. I never felt that he was in it for himself; just like Edelgard, he's motivated by a better future for Fodlan, it's just that he uses more sneaky methods rather than Edelgard's more direct approach.

“ Nah, I don't buy it. One of the flaws of the writing I think is that we never never see Claude pushed to the absolute edge like the other characters. It's almost like he doesn't care about his goals. But then you find out that's just an Almyran thing. They're warmongerers, but they value their lives more than winning in the end.

This just in folks, if you aren’t pushed to your mental limits then you don’t care about your goals. Being able to keep a cool head despite the circumstances obviously means that you don’t care about what’s happening. 

And the thing is I even agree somewhat to the idea of Claude having a moment of weakness, but that he doesn’t isn’t indicative of his lack of care, like, at all, no matter where he’s from. He still very fuckin’ clearly cares, given that he stayed in Fodlan to help the Alliance. 

And imma take that “just an Almyran thing” for later

Oh but wait, of course, I forgot:

“ So yeah, for Claude, this doesn't mean as much to him as it does to Edelgard, who lives in Fodlan and wants to see it bettered for it's people. If Claude genuinely wanted that, I think he would've allied with Edelgard, since her overthrowing the Church would lead to the kinds of societal changes he claims to want.”

He doesn’t want to see Fodlan get better because he doesn’t live there, which is the only way for one to care about something. Nevermind that he’s been living there for seven years by post ts, nevermind that he’s actually trying to find the truth to help Fodlan unlike Edelgard who just assumes she does without any further investigation, nevermind that the changes he wants to implement get fucking implemented without the dismantling of the Church, no that’s completely irrelevant. He didn’t side with Edelgard so of course he doesn’t want the best for Fodlan, because he’s not brown-nosing the imperialist he can’t actually give a shit. Sure, alright.

And oh yeah, so much societal change Edelgard does, she gets rid of the need for Crests (maybe) and boots a church that isn’t directly tied to the state... and that’s it! Literally nothing else changes with Edelgard, save for one noble house - that has a history of providing magical innovations - getting its noble status back. Commoners rising to power, political or military, without having to marry into it? Never mentioned! Inheritance based strictly on birth? Still very much present! Nobles getting things they haven’t earned? Caspar has your back, Linhardt would but he’s too busy sleeping in his cozy new institute that was made specifically for him and no one else that he abandons in most of his endings anyway so it’s a complete waste, and Bernadetta too busy being forced to take up her family’s work by Edelgard to do anything she might, you know, want to do or anything. One source having all of the power to rule over the whole of Fodlan? Literally Edelgard’s whole plan! Censorship of things the higher ups don’t want the people knowing about? Hey now Dorothea better consult Edelgard before you go just playing any performance you want. Violent quelling of opposition (that’s only levied towards Rhea because she killed people literally caught in the act of trying to kill her)? Well, that’s literally all she has Hubert around for! Not like she cares for his ass otherwise, Miss “I walk my path alone despite having someone who will do literally anything for me” Miss “I have nothing to say about my retainer of like 20 years dying for my cause in any route he dies for me in”. 

Note how none of that has shit all to do with what Claude wants, which is better foreign relations. All of those pertain to endings in CF and the only place that mentions foreign affairs at all is Petra... where she is forced to marry Imperial nobles in some of her endings to gain Brigid’s independence, as per Edelgard’s demands. Yeah, no, this shit wouldn’t fly with Claude’s dreams.

“ But he doesn't, because he's selfish and wants the win for himself if he can take it. He doesn't understand that war is people fighting for their home, which is why he's so shocked Hilda was willing to die for his bs claims. I sincerely don't believe Claude cares about Fodlan. He might care about a handful of folks he met, but they're mostly just a means to an end. “

.....Um.... yes he wants to win the war.... like fuckin’ hello who’d want to lose it? Honest to fuckin’ god, who is going to be on the winning side of a war they didn’t want and go “and I will do nothing with my victory whatsoever” I’m going to stop you ahead of time and say fucking no one. The victor of war is always going to use their victory to do something with it. This isn’t indicative of Claude, Edelgard, Dimitri, Rhea, fuckin’ Billy-Joe down the road, it’s just a fact. 

And hey!!! Maybe he was shocked that people would die for him because like you fucking said in this comment In Almyra - that place that kinda sorta influenced Claude just a tad - you value your life more than your cause! And he valued the lives of his friends more than the cause and that’s why he tells them to retreat in every fucking route! And that him wanting his friends to live and not die for him is not, in fact, him seeing them as a means to an end! 

“ Claude is in Fodlan for his own gain in Almyra. Not for Fodlan's sake. He's just fortunate Edelgard started and became the face of war so he didn't have to do it himself.”

Okay, so fuckin’ riddle me this, if he really wanted to just fuck over Fodlan and claim it for his own and was using Edelgard to spearhead everything, why doesn’t he bust out the full-force Almyran army in CF? Or hell, anywhere? If the goal was really, truly, “100% for his throne in Almyra, fuck Fodlan idgaf” then why does he not just fucking take it over with the infinitely stronger Almyran army? Why does he go out of his way to protect the Alliance people? Why does he evacuate the people in AM and act as a fucking shield for them in CF? Why is he putting himself in this much danger to protect something he apparently doesn’t give a shit about? Why doesn’t he turn to the ol’ King Daddy’o and say “yo pops gimme more men I’ll give ya THE FUCKING ENTIRETY OF FODLAN, OUR CENTURIES OLD ENEMY WHOM IS HATED BY THE MAJORITY OF OUR PEOPLE”?

The Claude you’re describing sounds like a real fuckin’ stupid asshole, good thing he don’t real

[degenerate-yandere]

Could I request some headcanons for Muzan with a human darling?

Hey, This man is the absolute worst! Which means I love him because I am a bastard.

This turned out really long because I have monkey brain and I love fictional assholes.

TW: Mild descriptions of gore, yandere, physical abuse, manipulation, threats of violence

Muzan is an extreme egomaniac; he perceives himself as a being close to utter perfection. As a result, he finds it initially odd that he’s infatuated with a creature so laughably inferior to him. His immense ego, however, dispels any doubt or hesitation he may have. To him, one thing is certain; he’s your ultimate superior - thus, he is entitled to you. From the very moment he gazed upon you with those eyes of inhuman crimson, you belonged to him.

The matters of courtship, requited love, nor your approval are of any significance to Muzan. His strength is unimaginable compared to your pitiful form. In his mind, this affords him the indisputable right to take you for himself.

He’ll follow you around for awhile, observing your patterns like you were a meager ant in a display. He finds your human troubles and chores to be pathetically adorable and endearingly worthless. It brings the demon immense joy to dispose of those who so much as looked at you a bit too longingly in the most painful ways imaginable. Not because they’re a threat, for no mortal could ever be. No, he does so for the pure fun of it.

It won’t take long for Muzan to get bored of merely observing. He’ll corner you, swiftly and grotesquely ridding the scene of any bystanders. None of them particularly irked him, but he needed to show you just how powerful he was - what’s stamping out a few lesser life forms to send a message? Oh, it’s so cute how you shake and tremble; pleading for the big, bad demon to spare you. He’ll trace his pale fingers across your flesh. It’s so impossibly warm, so temptingly succulent. He’ll rumble with delight as you whimper when his lips meet yours. You taste divine. You’re lucky his self-restraint is impeccable, for little is stopping him from tearing you apart and indulging his gluttony. When he eventually pulls back, he’ll smirk at your horrified confusion. His hot breath will dust against your shoulder as his teeth graze against the skin on your neck, teasing the frantic artery.

“Tell me, human: you’d like to avoid becoming a part of the food chain, correct?” A chuckle resonates from his chest as you nod with terrified pace. “ Then be a good little pet for me, (y/n). You’ll have nothing to fret about.” Only your heavy breathing fills the suffocating silence. Sharp teeth tighten against your neck, eliciting a pained cry from your lips. Your sobbing intensifies as he releases your skin, those hungry eyes meeting yours. “Am I clear, dearest? I must say, you’re certainly not doing well so far.” His tongue wets his lips tauntingly. Oh, how quick you are to choke out your understanding. Freezing fingers cup your chin so gently as he pulls you into another slow, methodical kiss. “Well done, my good little pet.”

You’ll be carried away with ease to whatever dwelling Muzan has made his home. That night of your meeting will be effective in its intention; to establish his control, and keep you nice and obedient out of pure fear.

He’ll hardly give you any time or space to get acquainted with your new situation. It’s established early on that you must be in his presence whenever possible. You’ll be dragged onto his lap as he brushes your hair between his fingers, praising you for your obedience. Deep kisses are forced upon you as he pins you down with his overpowering strength, cooing the phrase ‘Good pet’ over and over like a mantra between stolen breaths. When you display signs of fatigue, a byproduct of your pathetic humanity, he’ll carry you to bed as he chuckles. He’ll climb in along side you, pulling you into a tight embrace against his chest. He can tell by the thumping of your heart that you’re terrified, rightfully so. Nevertheless, he’ll order you to relax, rubbing circles into your back in an attempt to calm you. If you do end up succumbing to sleep, Muzan’ll just watch you for a while, a smirk on his face. He has no need for sleep, but this brings him too much pleasure to pass up. you’re a defenseless little prey in the arms of your natural predator.

Muzan has a total god-complex; he’s a complete and utter megalomaniac. That sense of superiority and desire to exert power is present within your ‘relationship’. You’ll know his name, but you’re given strict instructions to call him ‘Master’ instead. He’ll make it excruciatingly clear how simple it would be to snuff you out - ensuring you that you’re completely disposable. He’d never let you know just how untrue that was, though. You’ll be made completely reliant on his mercy. He’ll act like he ‘forgot’ humans have to eat and drink regularly. Muzan gets a kick out of seeing you meekly approach him with your gaze glued to the floor, telling him how desperately hungry you are.He’ll click his tongue, cupping your cheeks in his hands as he forces you to meet his striking eyes.

“Is that any way to beg for your Master? Perhaps you aren’t a good pet after all, dear.” It’s adorable how submissive you become; falling to your knees and gripping his pants - begging him to take pity on you. He’ll comply, supplying you with modest rations to tide you over. He can’t have you wasting away.

Muzan loves to keep you on edge. Grabbing your chin harshly, he’ll drag his tongue across your cheek, describing in vivid detail just how delicious your skin is. You start crying as he straddles your waist and nips playfully at your flesh; pretending to gradually lose control of his restraint. Only when he’s about to sink his teeth against your jugular does he pull away and laugh. Suffice to say, it takes awhile for you to calm down afterward.

Now and then, he’ll bring some of his more… disposable subordinates to meet you. You’ll be terrified as he encourages them to get as close to you as possible; tempting them to smell your irresistible scent. When you’re certain the demon is about to take a bite out of you - they’ll be obliterated. He’ll hold you close as he soaks in your expression of horror, ensuring that he’d never let such vermin consume you. He’ll be sure to tell you that’s a privilege he’s keeping for himself.

As much as he loves to drain you of every drop of affection, Muzan has a sadistic side. Not only does he enjoy punishing you, he’ll often make up petty excuses to do so, They’re so easy to enact - your bones are brittle, your skin is so malleable against his claws. To be able to break you so effortlessly gives him such a rush of euphoria. He tends to get a bit carried away, but no matter. The inability to move your legs is just cause for more sweet begging. Muzan will make sure to tell you how patient and kind he is - telling you how grateful you should be that he isn’t killing you, as he snaps a bone in two.

Muzan would be near impossible to escape from - his speed and heightened awareness means you’re pretty much hopeless. If anyone comes to your aid - expect them to be destroyed beyond recognition. And the punishment that would certainly ensue would be a hellish experience.

Muzan would never let his favorite, precious little plaything slip away. You’re a prize from his perceived superiority - totally and utterly his. He harbors a twisted, avaricious love for you; if love can truly exist between a predator and its prey.