#i made a post about this a while back but i'm revisiting it now

[fangsforthevenom]

is there a word for coming from a non-"american" (non-white) heritage and just... not being connected to it at all? outside of calling my relatives lolo, lola, tio, tia, etc., i don't think i've ever felt, like, culturally filipino in my life. and not to mention my indian side -- i was a surrogate kid, so i never knew my birth mother, and my own mom's very white (think WASP).

my lolo and lola came to the States in the '60s, and we've been here ever since. my dad calls my lolo his papang, but i've never called my dad that. i didn't even know filipino food outside bagoong until i was 10, when my lolo got us a book that talked about lumpia and longanisa. but i don't eat those foods regularly. i don't speak cebuano, even though everyone expectts tagalog when they hear "filipino" -- if they even know that the philippines exist -- i grew up with america. i idolized Pocahontas because she had skin that was close to mine, mulan because she was asian, and i was told that i was also.

there were never kids that looked like me growing up (don't get me wrong, my neighborhood was diverse, but no asian kids) and when i finally did meet another filipino kid, she was pale and called her dad papang and spoke in tagalog to him. my first language is english, even though i get asked if i can read hindu or tagalog off store labels by well-meaning mothers. sometimes i get praised for how well i speak english. (i do speak english well, but perhaps not in the way they're thinking -- i was consistently the top scorer in english tests in my classes. as i'm writing this, however, my grammar checker has oh-so-helpfully informed me that i have sixty-eight errors in this text. sad! (69))

my favorite food is the cheeseburger. when i get asked what my culture's like, i reply "american." because what else would i say? if my skin were white i'd be a true american. i saw raya in theatres and she was supposed to be the first filipino disney princess and i didn't feel any kind of connection. i don't think she would have even been a favorite if it came out while i was little. are you supposed to feel connection?

my african-american, my jewish, my latino friends talk about their culture and their traditions like they're nothing. one of my closest friends, who is korean, talks to their parents, rapid-fire, having to translate when they see me lost. one of my other friends can speak and understand spanish extremely well when he's with his mother, but got a lower score than i did on the tests.

i'm a diligent student because my father told me to be one, but everyone assumes it's because i'm asian. they assume that my father taught me to only get As because of some half-baked notion of being a "model minority".

it feels like a mask, sometimes. behind the filipino/indian part everyone sees, i'm just american. there is not tie between me and my ethnicity, nothing real keeping me tethered. is "assimilationist" the wrong thing to call me, considering there was nothing to assimilate from?

[neil-gaiman]

hey mr gaiman. i saw that this post got revisited and wanted to address it.

i submitted this ask over a year ago on my old account and it was one of the stupidest things i ever did. it was my first tumblr account. id only been really online for a few weeks. i was 13. i was just coming back to school after a global pandemic.

ive been a fan of good omens for years and a fan of yours for longer. i was brought up reading odd and the frost giants and fortunately the milk, and as i got older i fell in love with your norse mythology book, good omens, snow glass apples, the sleeper and the spindle, and more.

i was excited to see one of my favorite authors on tumblr and tried to come up with the most bold and interesting ask i could think of.

i was rude and misinformed and it was a stupid choice of me to send it in with no thought.

but i got feedback. some in the form of kind suggestions. quite a few in the form of death threats and people telling me to kill myself.

while those specific messages were rude and hateful, the point got across. i educated myself to the best of my abilities, and eventually came back online.

not only did i misuse the term queerbaiting but i also implied that you were not an amazing supporter of the queer community. that’s absolutely incorrect. you’ve done so much for us with activism, representation, and overall kindness.

i wanted to address this ask that got so much attention because despite moving accounts i still feel guilt and shame every time i see it, or even when i interact with any of your posts at all. i need to actually address it.

also, i wanted a proper apology to be made. by no means am i now a saint. but im trying to be more thoughtful about thinking before i speak.

whether or not you decide to make a public response to this, i think ill find some peace knowing you’ve received this. ive needed closure on this for a long time.

im overjoyed and thrilled that season two is so close. thank you for tolerating the dumb questions of pretentious kids and thank you for helping to create a world where we can grow to be better than we were.

First of all, and most importantly, I'm really sorry that people were mean to you. That's awful. And nobody should ever have to deal with death threats or online threats and attacks, let alone a thirteen year old.

And secondly, you do not owe me an apology. I figure I have a Tumblr account, people ask things. Mostly they'll get nice replies, occasionally (normally when I'm being asked the same thing over and over) the replies will be terser. There has to be a certain amount of rough and tumble though, and occasionally I'll grab an ask that represents all of the asks I've had on that subject, and try and reply to all of them. That's what happened to you. I was getting tired of being accused of Queerbaiting for the occasional answer about a Season that was not yet released and about which nobody knew anything. And I needed to tell everyone who was doing this that they had to stop now. You had the misfortune to be the representative of all of the other people.

If you are not making mistakes you are not human and you are not learning anything.

(I wish there was tone of voice on the internet.)

And I think you are growing and learning and will make a fantastic adult.

I really hope you enjoy Season 2 when it drops.

[ramblings-of-a-chaotic-neutral]

Hello again everyone! Thank you all so much for the overwhelming support for the last part of the "Merlin accidentally conquers Camelot" au! I've had so much fun writing this au, and I'm so glad that you've all enjoyed it too! This will probably be the final part of this au (for now), since I have more au ideas to share with you all, but I'll probably revisit this au some day! For now, I'm approaching two pretty big tumblr milestones, so I'm working on an extra-special au to post in celebration of those (and I won't give anything away, but I think that this new au may be my best one yet, so stay tuned)!

Also, warning, this one is a long post! Be prepared!

Now, onto part four of this au! You can find part one here, part two here, and part three here!

As it turned out, planning a royal wedding was no easy feat.

Merlin had thought that simply adding a quick and (hopefully) painless wedding ceremony at the end of his coronation would make everything go smoothly. After all, the castle would already be decorated, they'd already have all of the important lords in attendance, and everything needed for a consort's coronation ceremony would already be there.

However, when Merlin announced to the lords and the steward in charge of preparing his coronation ceremony that he'd also need a quick wedding and coronation to take Arthur as his consort, they reacted with so much shock and horror that Merlin thought for a second that he'd accidentally announced that he was ordering their executions instead. The only person in the council room who didn't look like death itself had just appeared before him was Gwaine, who took advantage of he shocked silence following Merlin's proclamation to start laughing so uncontrollably that he doubled over and had to grab the wall for support.

Merlin had expected some shock and pushback from the council at his decision, not... this. All of the lords on the council had gone as pale as parchment, some trembling in their seats with fear. What on earth...

"Sire," the ever-unflappable Geoffrey called out, jolting Merlin from his confusion at the state of terror that had gripped the other council members, "while such a marriage would not be unlawful, it would certainly be unprecedented. I'm not questioning your judgement, I know that establishing yourself as a strong ruler this early in your reign is paramount, but are you sure that this is the best way to go about it? I'm certain that the citizens of Camelot will accept you as their rightful ruler as soon as they witness their true power for themselves, so taking the former king as your war prize isn't entirely necessary to show your dominance over the land."

The lords grew several shades paler at Geoffrey's words, and the trembling councilman sitting next to Geoffrey leaned in to fearfully hiss something into the librarian's ear. Merlin watched with growing confusion as Geoffrey's eyes went wide at whatever had just been whispered to him, and he rushed to speak once more.

"Of course, if this decision was made as some form of revenge or humiliation towards the Pendragon line, that is well within your right as a conqueror, Your Majesty. We would simply advise you to take the disgraced king as a concubine, perhaps, instead of your official consort. As a ruler, you must now also consider the issue of one day producing legitimate heirs, which can only be borne to you through your consort."

Merlin blinked, desperately trying to follow whatever logic Geoffrey was using. Take Arthur as a concubine?! Had the old man gone insane?! And Merlin certainly wasn't concerned about heirs, since if he got his way, then his reign wouldn't last longer than this week!

Still, with most of the council looking like they were being plagued by waking nightmares, they weren't likely to listen to Merlin's very reasonable objections to being king in the first place, so Merlin just had to get them off his back until the wedding.

After a deep sigh, which made most of the council members flinch back with a still confusing amount of fear, Merlin addressed Geoffrey's concerns.

"Thank you for your input, but I'm afraid that my decision has already been made on this... issue. I will be taking Arthur as my consort at my coronation, and my decision is final. And don't concern yourself with the topic of heirs, that will be sorted out shortly."

Several lords choked on the air at Merlin's last comment, with a couple outright fainting at his words. Merlin's brows furrowed even more with befuddlement. What... what had he said that garnered such a reaction?! He was just telling them not to worry about it!

(Meanwhile, unbeknownst to Merlin, the lords had a very different idea of what their new king- a powerful, brutal warlord and sorcerer- had planned. They interpreted Merlin's intent to marry Arthur as an act of revenge against the son of the man who killed off so many of his people during the purge. It apparently wasn't enough for the mighty Emrys to defeat his enemy and leave him with nothing to his name. No, this ruthless new king of theirs planned on forcing the former king into a life of humiliation and servitude in the court that was once his own. To a king, that must be a fate worse than death.

These lords, who were some of the most active and complicit members of Uther's purge, looked at the punishment that Emrys had planned for Arthur and thought if that's what happened to the king, what's he going to do to us?!)

The days went by quickly after that meeting, with Merlin's time being filled with a never-ending list of his new duties and things that needed to be done before his coronation, not to mention organizing the coronation itself and the subsequent wedding (which Arthur didn't know about yet, as Merlin had been deliberately avoiding the dungeons after his last conversation with Arthur).

It took the better part of a week for everything to finally be prepared for the official coronation ceremony. The ceremony itself would consist of Merlin being crowned in front of the court (a nauseating thought for Merlin himself), the vassal lords and knights willing to swear fealty to him taking the oath of loyalty, and finally Arthur being handfasted to Merlin and crowned consort.

Merlin was, for once, thankful for the amount of work that he had to do over the days leading up to the ceremony, as it kept his mind busy and his thoughts away from the pit of self-loathing that had taken up permanent residence in his head. After all, what kind of friend stole everything from the person they love the most in the world and then turns around and forces that same friend (and unrequited crush) to marry them?!

Merlin had attempted to rationalize his selfish decision to keep Arthur in the dark regarding his plan to reinstate him as king by telling himself that if Arthur didn't know about the wedding until the last minute, then he would spend less time worrying about it in the long run after he was king again! Besides, if Merlin's plan worked, they would only be married for a day or two, so there was no reason to get Arthur worked up over that by telling him earlier!

Truly, Merlin was not being a complete scumbag by doing this, he was just looking out for his friend's best interests and mental wellbeing! This would all blow over in a a matter of days anyways, Merlin was certain of it.

Still, Merlin found himself anxious and pacing the floor of his room on the morning of the ceremony. He had sent a team of servants and guards to retrieve Arthur from his cell and prepare him for the ceremony, so he likely wouldn't see Arthur until he was brought into the great hall for the handfasting ceremony. However, he still worried over Arthur's reaction when he learned what exactly when was being prepared for.

This worry lingered in Merlin's mind and consumed his thoughts throughout the entire day and into the coronation ceremony, so much so that his own coronation seemed like a blur to him. One moment he was standing in the great hall in front of the assembled crowd of lords and knights, and in the next, he was sitting on Arthur's throne with Arthur's crown on his head, with the crowd shouting "long live the king".

The sound of it almost made Merlin sick. Those words should never be directed at him, but he'd make this right soon enough. He just had to suffer through this ceremony to appease those disloyal lords who had turned their backs on their true king.

Perhaps the worst part of the coronation itself was the ceremony in which the lords and knights willing to pledge their fealty to him took an oath declaring such. It was no surprise to Merlin to see those weasels on the council of lords pledging themselves to save their own skin, but the knights who showed up to pledge their fealty were... very unexpected.

Look, Merlin had assumed that it would just be Gwaine and a small handful of guards and younger knights that he had roped into his mischievous scheme swearing loyalty so him. All of the other knights with their wits intact would surely still be down in the cells of the dungeon, holding true to their prior oaths of loyalty and keeping their true king company.

What Merlin did not expect, however, was for nearly a quarter of all of Camelot's knights to take a knee before him and pledge their loyalty, led by a highly amused Gwaine, who was no doubt enjoying every minute of this. Merlin quickly scanned the crowd of knights, trying to take count of who all had turned their backs on Arthur and could no longer be trusted.

Gwaine, of course, came at no surprise. Many of those assembled were commoner knights whom Arthur had taken in, including Percival, but the giant regularly got pulled into Gwaine's nonsense, so this wasn't truly that much of a shock if Merlin thought about it. There were a fair number of noble-born knights in the crowd, including all of those whom Merlin had noted had a softer outlook on magic. And then, of course, there were a decent number of pompous, high-born knights who had never given a lick about magic or loyalty, they just wanted to preserve their own wealth and power no matter the cost.

Merlin narrowed his eyes at the cluster of those knights. All the rest had logical reasons to side with Merlin, between Gwaine's persuasiveness, solidarity between the lower class, or a connection or sympathy towards magic, so they would be allowed to stay in court after Arthur had retaken his rightful throne. But these knights? These cowardly snakes had to be dealt with at the first opportunity. But how could he get rid of them without people becoming suspicious?

... Wait a minute, Merlin was king now! He might only have that title for a day or so, but in that time, he could certainly use it! (And he absolutely was not using this as a tactic to prolong this part of the ceremony so that he had a few more minutes of peace before the wedding began.)

Right, but how was he going to play this? He couldn't exactly just announce that he wanted those knights to leave because he wanted them gone before Arthur took over again.

Merlin narrowed his eyes at the group of treacherous knights and noted how they squirmed a bit under his gaze, with even some of the people around them shuddering. Right, he looked like a ruthless and powerful sorcerer to them now. He could use that to his advantage.

As the knights finished reciting their oaths, Merlin held up his hand, signaling for them to stay in place. The knights did so, but a confused and concerned murmuring started buzzing around at this strange departure from the normal ceremony. Slowly, Merlin lifted his hand and pointed at the assembled group of knights in the back.

"You lot. In the back."

The murmuring died down the instant Merlin opened his mouth and was instead replaced by an oppressive dread weighing down the ornately decorated hall. If Merlin wasn't trying so hard to keep a straight, intimidating face, he would have winced at causing such a wave of fear with nothing more than a few words.

Hesitantly, one of the called out knights stepped forward, addressing their new king.

"Yes, your majesty? Is there something you require of us?"

Merlin held back the urge to smirk as an idea, and a very satisfying one at that, formed in his head. He quietly cleared his throat and put on his most imperious "Emrys" voice that he could muster.

"I can sense insincerity in your hearts with my magic. Just as you abandoned the previous king, you would also turn your backs on me at the first opportunity to do so. Do not even attempt to deny it, you know just as well as I do that this true. I cannot trust any such men as knights of mine."

The group of knights went pale as Merlin called them out for their flimsy loyalty, and at once whispers began fly in the crowd. Perhaps they were intrigued by this show of his "powers"? Were they scandalized by this public shaming of a group of high-ranking knights?

Either way, the knights immediately began groveling, begging Merlin to let them keep their positions, their wealth, their power, but Merlin dismissed them with a wave of a hand and publicly revoked their knighthoods. The murmuring of the remaining people in the great hall grew louder as the disgraced former knights made their way out of the hall, no doubt intimidated and scandalized by how quickly their new ruler was purging his court of the disloyal.

However, with the loyal knights having taken their oaths and the untrustworthy ones having been cast out, the coronation ceremony was now officially complete, meaning that Merlin could no longer stall what would come next.

Merlin sat still on his stolen throne, trying his best not to fidget with nervousness as Geoffrey gave some traditional speech that had to be done before the doors of the great hall opened to let consort walk down the aisle to the throne.

After a couple minutes, Geoffrey's monotonous voice became nothing but a buzzing in Merlin's ears as he stared at the doors of the hall, desperately trying to imagine any scenario where those doors wouldn't open to an Arthur who was filled with nothing but rage and betrayal.

All too soon, Geoffrey's droning speech ended, and the trumpets in the hall announced the arrival of the soon-to-be-consort and signaled for everyone of lower rank to stand. Merlin's heart leapt to his throat as he jumped to his feet, even though he was the only person in the room who didn't need to. Ever so slowly, the doors to the hall swung open, revealing... Arthur.

Merlin damn near choked on his own saliva at the sight of him. He had seen Arthur in a wide range of states over the years as his manservant, ranging anywhere from sleep-rumbled to solemnly prepared for battle. But this... he had never seen anything like it.

Merlin couldn't decide if whoever had been in charge of dressing Arthur and preparing him for the ceremony ought to either be promoted to Arthur's personal tailor or immediately banished. In place of Arthur's usual surcoat and chainmail for official ceremonies, which was what Merlin had foolishly assumed the servants would dress Arthur in, there was... a monstrosity that would haunt Merlin's dreams for the rest of his life.

Merlin didn't even know how to begin to describe it. The garment that the servants had no doubt forced Arthur into, as Merlin knew that he would never wear such a thing of his own accord, was somewhere between a set of intricately intertwined robes and a dress, which hugged Arthur's shoulders, upper arms, and thighs, highlighting the muscles there. Most of the outfit appeared to be made out of a rich velvet, dyed in a majestic royal blue that both looked entirely out of place on Arthur and brought out his eyes like nothing Merlin had ever seen before. And dear gods, was that lace on there?! And why the hell did the outfit need elbow-length lace gloves?!

(The servants who had been in charge of dressing Arthur for the ceremony had assumed that their brutal new warlord would probably want his war prize to look as far from a warrior as possible, in order to further prove that he had beaten the previous rulers. So, they selected a delicate and elegant outfit for Arthur in the hopes of appeasing their new king.)

Merlin swallowed dryly as Arthur slowly began making his way down the aisle with measured footsteps. The movement snapped Merlin out of whatever temporary madness the outfit had sent him spiraling into, and Merlin finally locked eyes with Arthur.

Merlin winced at the sheer amount of rage that Arthur managed to fit into one glare as he took another step towards the throne that was rightfully his. Merlin tried to give Arthur his most reassuring smile, but he was almost certain it only came across as a nervous grimace.

Just go along with this, Merlin tried to beg of Arthur with only his eyes. Their bond had always been one that allowed them to communicate without words, and Merlin prayed that their connection would hold strong once more and get his message across to Arthur.

Neither Arthur's impressive glare nor his furious scowl let up though, but he kept his pace towards the throne steady, which Merlin decided to take as a good sign. After all, if Arthur truly did not any merit to this impromptu plan, why would he still be walking of his own accord towards the altar?

Still, as Arthur grew closer and closer to the altar prepared for the handfasting, his eyes became darker with rage as Merlin winced. Yes, this would certainly be harder than it needed to be, but this had to be done to get Arthur back on the throne! Surely Arthur would understand that!

After what must have been an eternity, Arthur finally reached the altar and, ever so slowly, walked around to stand at a fidgeting Merlin's side.

As Geoffrey began yet another speech that had to be done before the handfasting took place, Merlin quietly turned to Arthur and gave him a small smile, trying to a least let Arthur know that everything was alright, that everything would turn out fine.

That little smile, it seemed, turned out to be the final straw for Arthur. Merlin wasn't even entirely sure how it happened.

One moment, he was standing next to Arthur in front of the altar, with the only sound in the room being Geoffrey's boring voice. And in the next, there was a savage war cry coming from Arthur, who was now armed with a sword, and a decent amount of screaming coming from the crowd.

It spoke volumes about Merlin's state of mind that his first thought upon seeing Arthur run at him with a blade in hand wasn't get back, dodge! but was rather that dress is tight, where on earth did he hide that sword?

However, Merlin's sense of self-preservation wasn't nearly as terrible as Gaius accused it of being, as his second thought was I should probably try to avoid getting stabbed at my own wedding.

Reluctantly, Merlin gathered his magic, ready to disarm Arthur and hold him still if need be. Arthur could stab Merlin later if he really felt like it, but Merlin needed to at least officially make Arthur his consort and heir before Arthur did that!

However, to Merlin's surprise, rather than trying to run Merlin through, Arthur instead stabbed at the wooden handfasting altar, sinking his blade deep into it. Merlin carefully kept his eyes on Arthur as the other man viciously pulled off one of the dainty lace gloves and threw it on the ground at Merlin's feet.

Dumbfounded, Merlin stared at the thrown glove on the floor and then looked back up to stare at Arthur, not quite getting what Arthur was trying to tell him here. Did he just really hate the outfit? Or was it this whole marriage plan that he objected to?

"Pick it up."

"Huh?"

Arthur nearly started growling, his rage apparently rising with Merlin's confusion.

"It may not be a proper gauntlet, since you have denied me such a dignity, but it will suffice for this. Pick it up, King Emrys. I challenge you to a duel in single combat for the throne of Camelot. You may have defeated my sister, but you did not defeat me! I am no prize for you to claim!"

Merlin simply blinked, completely thrown off by this turn of events, while loud shouts started erupting from the crowd. By the time his mind caught up to what Arthur had said, Arthur had taken up his sword from where he had struck it into the altar and was pointing it threateningly at Merlin again.

As Merlin's shock wore off and he finally understood what exactly Arthur had just done, he had to fight back the urge to scream into the sky with frustration as yet another one of his plans to reinstate Arthur as king had just been ruined by the obstinate clotpole himself. Couldn't the prat just let Merlin help?!

With his frustration rising, Merlin glared down at the thrown glove. While a duel would certainly allow Arthur to retake the throne, Merlin wasn't entirely sure how his magic would react to such a fight. Merlin would never consciously hurt Arthur of course, but who knows if his magic would strike out in self-defense?!

And, besides, formally accepting and preparing the duel would take days. And, in Merlin's opinion, this whole farce has gone on for long enough.

"No. I will not accept your challenge."

Arthur's face went red with anger at Merlin's refusal.

"You are just as much of a coward as the rest of your kind, sorcerer! You would not even grant me the opportunity to take back what's mine!"

Merlin bit back a frustrated scream at that. Arthur would be getting his throne back if he just followed through with any of Merlin's plans instead of ruining threm!

Merlin took a deep breath and sighed on the exhale, trying the rein in his own anger. He just needed to go through with this ceremony, and then everything would be fine.

With a quick flash of gold in his eyes, which had Arthur flinching back (and didn't that just sting?), Merlin turned Arthur's blade into dust had Arthur's glove fly back onto his hand, setting everything right as it had been before Arthur had pulled out a sword and all hell had broken loose.

"That's enough! I've been trying to restore you to your rightful position as king this entire time, and yet you push back at every opportunity! I am not about to let you sabotage your own destiny! So, here's what's going to happen!"

Distantly, Merlin heard the wind outside whipping around, like his own frustration and stirred nature itself into a frenzy.

"You are going to stand here, complete this ceremony, be named my heir, and then retake your throne when I abdicate! Are we clear?"

Arthur, who still looked rather shaken at Merlin's display of magic, scowled, but still nodded his head. Merlin, satisfied by this, turned back around to face the shocked crowd.

"And do I make myself clear to all of you?! There will be no more interruptions of this ceremony, and Arthur will take back his throne!"

The frightened crowd went silent at Merlin's outburst, seemingly relenting to Merlin's demands.

Merlin then turned to Geoffrey, who was still standing in front of the handfasting altar with the rope in his hands.

"Now, Geoffrey, I would greatly appreciate it if you would get a move on here. I don't want to wear this stupid crown for any longer than I have to."

The only indication that Geoffrey gave that he was surprised by Merlin's outburst was a mere uptake of his eyebrows, rather reminiscent of Gaius's signature look. Without further ado, Geoffrey tied Merlin and Arthur's hands together, declaring them to be now married in the eyes of the gods of the Old Religion.

(Merlin tried to ignore the hurt and longing that built up in his heart in that moment. How many times had he dreamed of something like this? But he never wanted it to happen like this. This was Merlin's dream come true, but it was all wrong. In that moment, Merlin didn't dare look at Arthur, too afraid of what his dearest friend thought about this grievous overstep of boundaries.)

Immediately after Geoffrey untied the handfasting knot, Arthur's coronation as consort began. The ceremony itself went smoothly, but Merlin's heart broke both at the sight of Arthur kneeling before him, waiting to be crowned, and at the furious glare Arthur gave him as he gently put the consort's crown upon Arthur's head, officially naming Arthur as his heir.

As soon as Arthur stood from where he was kneeling, applause broke out from the crowd. Someone (Merlin heavily suspected Gwaine) started a chant of "long live the kings!", which caught on quickly. Merlin winced again at the chant, not daring to turn and look at Arthur's face.

Still, Merlin reminded himself as he took a deep, calming breath, everything was coming along. Arthur was now officially his consort and heir, and all that was left to do... was the copious amounts of paperwork finalizing his abdication.

Yeah, no. Merlin wasn't going through that process when he could just take care of it here and now.

"Citizens of Camelot, on this most joyous day, I, King Emrys, abdicate the throne!"

Even though he had made his intentions clear only a few minutes earlier, shocked whispers flew around the crowd, like they hadn't truly believed that he would go through with it.

Merlin couldn't help the grin that was forming on his face. Finally, everything would be set right again!

"I am no longer your king, and as per the laws of the kingdom, the throne now rightfully belongs to your true king, Arthur Pendragon!"

With that, Merlin reached up and yanked the crown off of his own head, marched over to a dumbfounded Arthur and, without any hesitation, replaced the consort's crown on Arthur's head with the true crown.

"There, that's much better," Merlin whispered to himself as he gazed upon Arthur, finally looking like himself again, but he was certain that Arthur must have heard it too, as Arthur's eyes went wide at his words.

But that was a conversation for another day, as Merlin was now done here. This entire calamity was over, and now Merlin was going to savor its end.

Merlin turned back to face the crowd once more with an undoubtedly crazed grin.

"Goodnight everyone! Be sure to obey your true king! In the meanwhile, I'm off to bed for my first full night's rest since this nightmare started!"

And with that, Merlin merrily skipped out of the great hall, made his way to his cramped room in Gaius's chambers, and slept soundly.

Bonus Scene!

THE NEXT DAY:

Arthur: Busts into Merlin's room

Merlin, unwillingly woken up from the best sleep he's gotten in years: Ugh, what do you want you prat?! You're king again, aren't you?! Don't you have kingly duty to be attending to?

Arthur: Merlin you idiot, you abdicated the throne.

Merlin: Yes, and now you're king again. You're welcome!

Arthur: But you never dissolved our union!

Merlin: Huh?

Arthur: A divorce can only be granted by the same ruler who authorized the marriage! You know what this means, right?!

Merlin: Yeah, that you can just declare us to be not married anymore and we can all be on our way.

Arthur: No, YOU were the ruler who authorized the marriage, and now that you've abdicated, you can't dissolve the marriage! Legally, no one can!

Merlin, turning pale: What?

Arthur, looking weary: Yes, apparently it's some legal technicality that Geoffrey cited from Bruta's code. I've spent all morning arguing with him, but there seems to be no way around it.

Merlin: So... what you're saying is that we're stuck being married to each other.

Arthur: Yes, you buffoon, that's exactly what I'm saying! Now, get up!

Merlin, feeling incredibly guilty over this entire situation: Arthur, I'm so sorry, I take full responsibility for this, I never should have forced you into-

Arthur, cutting him off: Let's go. We don't have much time before the rest of the castle is up and about, and I'd rather us not be seen here.

Merlin, confused but complying: Arthur, where are we going? Why don't you want us to be seen here?

Arthur, blushing: It would reflect poorly on the king if word got out that he let his consort sleep in this dirty broom closet on their wedding night, wouldn't it?

Merlin, blushing: Ah, I suppose it would.

And that's a wrap for this au for now! I hope you've all enjoyed this story!

A huge thank you for everyone who asked for this continuation! (and holy cow there were a lot of you!! Thank you all so much!)

@magic-mushroomss @miyriu @whole-buncha-snakess @achillesuwu @aerismoon

@tidalwavesandthunderstorms @marki9 @isaidno @retro-wallflower @samwinjester

@lascienzadellafantasia @sugar-coated-prat-dragon @theoldfroglady @ryeallytired @mind-of-a-crow

@whynotreinventmyselfeveryday @likeapaperplane @odinjm @orliththedragon @aglmry

@caraspud @aostrek-236 @justaz @slippysalt @coffee-shop-gay

@the-king-and-the-druidess @theroundbartable @fanfic-library-for-me @linotheghost @scuttlingsleipnir

@guiltyscarlet @cinnabon-sweetroll-tiramisu @247merthur @veryroadpartystatesman-blog @verxen

@lascienzadellafantasia @jareicanon @arrowlovesdragons @juliairian @thesuperstitiousoldelf

@lovermyme @bootprivileges @rem-the-moth @hippielittlemetalhead @ole-to-you-nonetheless

@lordmushroomkat @starchaos01 @reynaharmonia @anastasia0614 @starlight-crow

@wheneverfeasible @savlikesbluengreen @fuckingdeadinsidetm @notquitehumanwrites @purplesandwichtiger

@rocks-d-xerxes @olli-is-a-fish @luluzealand2565 @dangerhumming @tireddruid

@spiralingtowardtheabyss @mundaneone @anxiousdragoncollector @catface233 @bennedict

@elementalpirate4 @bertolio @vadis-protenus @chaosofbelievers @floating-on-avalon

@merthurogies @justaz

And, as always, thank you all for reading through my ramblings! :D

I'll see you all next time!

[elitadream]

Hi guys~! ⛅👋

Long time no see! Much longer than I ever intended, in fact. Truth be told, I wanted to make a public post sooner, but I've had a lot to catch up on in terms of notifications and messages since logging back in a few days ago. I've also made some changes that I will address shortly, but first of all I wanted to thank those of you who have reached out with so much care and understanding during my absence. Adjusting has been a slow and fragile process for me -still is-, and I sadly haven't responded directly to everyone yet because of it, but I wanted to say how much I appreciate your patience and support nonetheless. 🥹 🙏

Long story short, I was gone for five months due to a huge burnout, then progressively found my spark again somewhere along the way and have since mostly recovered. It was my wonderful friend @drones-of-innocence who reached out to me outside of Tumblr, and her sense of initiative is largely the reason why I managed to make this post in a somewhat reasonable delay. 😅💖 With that said however, I must also mention that I've deleted a lot of stuff from my page and have removed most of my work from the public eye as well. This may seem quite drastic and frankly a little unsettling, but I assure you that it was a thoroughly considered and reasoned decision! The thing is that I was still getting lots of notes on these drawings everyday and… To put it simply, I didn't want that anymore. 🙇‍♀️ Experiencing popularity was very detrimental to me in the long run and I needed to put an end to it for the sake of my own wellbeing; at least for now.

Which brings me to my next point.

After mulling it over for a while, I've decided that I would not be returning as an active creator in the Mario community this time around. 👐 Making fanart for this franchise (with such a high and continuously maintained degree of involvement) had a lot to do with my health's decline and I've come to realize that I wanted to direct my focus elsewhere going forward. For that reason, there are things which I know will never be repeated again in the future, both in regards to my art and online presence in general, but that's alright. Things change, as they do and should. I'm looking forward to reuniting with folks and would be very happy to stay in touch with those of you who wish to message me privately. Like my lovely pal @istadris said, what matters most about any fandom are the friends you make in it. ☺️

And speaking of which-

@ody-and-fanatu That's so sweet of you, thank you! 💗 I'm glad you've enjoyed my contribution to the fandom. It was fun while it lasted! 💫 My visual ideas may be gone from my page, but most of my written posts and replies are still there for anyone who wants to revisit those at least, so there's that! And I'd also like to answer some of the asks I still have in my inbox at some point. Knowing that you hold my art in such high regard makes really happy! 🥰 Unfortunately, the other account that I have is reserved for my professional work and I prefer to keep them separate from one other, but the good thing is that I intend to go back to this blog occasionally. Hoping to see you around! Cheers! 🥂

@heiressofdoodles Thanks, I appreciate that! ✨ I'm honestly doing much better than I was earlier this Spring. Back then, I was running on empty and on the verge of crashing without even knowing it. Being in constant physical pain was one thing, but feeling mentally and emotionally drained on a daily basis was another entirely, and something had to be done. It took me a moment to really figure out what was wrong, but thankfully I realized very quickly what was causing it and applied the breaks with all my might. One of my main priorities now is to be more alert and respect my own boundaries to make sure that this never happens again. 🥲

@keakruiser Thank you. 🙏💐 I'm just glad to have found my footing again. Feels good to be able to create freely.^^ Hope you're doing well too!

Special thanks also to @pianokantzart, @jelly-fish-wishes, @katlyntheartist, @triniji and @wahooitsamee for their kind words. 🫂 Your graciousness and consideration means a lot to me. 💝

As for all the nice people who sent me anon comments and well wishes, I tried to summarize my thoughts as best I could in this update, but if there's anything else you'd like to say or know, don't hesitate to ask me anytime! Now that I feel like myself again, I think I'm gonna hang out on Tumblr for a little bit. I'll be excited to see what you guys have been up to in the meantime! 🤗 Wishing you all a very good day and pleasant Fall. 🍂

-elita 🌸

[he-is-lightning-in-a-bottle]

Unknown - Ep 11 - That Scene

The opening scene of episode 11 landed differently for me than it did for others. I was going to just keep it to myself since I have a minority opinion, but when I rewatched it last night I fell even more in love with it!

The structure!! It's so good! Let me explain.

At the bottom of the stairs, Qian hesitates. He still hasn't made up his mind.

Yuan says "Do you still not get it?" He knows what Qian is feeling, even if Qian hasn't figured it out yet. So he says what he wants very clearly.

Yuan asks for permission to do 4 things:

1. Be more than just Qian's brother.

2. Be who Qian relies on when he's down.

3. Be someone Qian can talk to about anything.

4. Be with Qian for the rest of his life.

Before Qian answers, he revisits 4 sets of memories, each set answering one of Yuan's questions with a resounding YES.

After each affirmative answer, it cuts back to the sex scene to communicate that THIS is the culmination of all those yesses.

In other words, there are 4 direct questions and 4 groups of memories that hold the answers to those questions, 4 times those memories scream the answer is YES, and 4 cuts to a bit of sex.

Let's look at the groups of memories.

1. He thinks back to Yuan's words in ep 9. Does he not want Yuan? Or does he not DARE to want Yuan? And he remembers all the times he felt desire for Yuan, but suppressed it. Can he be more than just Yuan's brother? Yes.

2. He thinks back to Yuan consistently being someone Qian can rely on, all through his childhood until now. "If the world falls down, we'll hold it up together." "You won't be alone." "I like being around you." Yuan genuinely likes being around Qian and has never wanted to leave him. He's shown his commitment to Qian time and time again. Can Qian rely on Yuan when he's down? Yes.

3. He remembers how long and hard Yuan suffered while enduring one-sided love, and that Yuan chose to suffer in quiet for years rather than confess to Qian about it. But Qian knew Yuan was suffering that whole time and hated it. It broke Qian's heart to see how hard it was for Yuan. If he did likewise and didn't talk about things, he'd also break the heart of the person who loves him because of his silence. Yuan laid himself bare and told Qian everything. Can Qian reciprocate and tell Yuan about everything in his life, even the hard things? Yes.

4. He thinks about how Yuan has ALREADY built his entire life around Qian. "I can sum up my life in two words: Wei Qian." Memories of Yuan come like a flood, rapidly gaining momentum. Yuan has already been with Qian for most of his life, and will NOT STOP. Qian can't imagine a life without Yuan. So can Yuan be with Qian for the rest of his life? Yes.

Qian nods and says his answer aloud: You can. And then they kiss.

The sex is not the point. It's the culmination. It's all the yesses stacked on top each other until they break the last of Qian's walls. By cutting the sex so it only exists between each resounding YES, they've made it less about the action of it and more about Qian realizing that YES, they're ALREADY in love and unalterably committed to each other. Why not give in to his physical desires when the rest is so clear?

Others watched this and saw a sex scene interrupted by cumbersome flashbacks. I watched this and saw a dramatic feelings realization interrupted by snippets of quite lovely sex that drove those feelings home.

A final note: It's probably because I'm demisexual, but I am frequently unmoved by sex scenes, especially when they do not advance the plot or the character development. This onscreen scene moved me. It hit the right emotional note. It was focused primarily on Qian's pov (his face is the one the camera is focusing on). And it was artfully done, instead of merely being titillating.

I'm tagging a few people who I recall talking about this in their posts, but it's been a couple of weeks so forgive me if I leave someone out or misremember. @absolutebl @lurkingshan @bengiyo @wen-kexing-apologist @wanderlust-in-my-soul @twig-tea

[andy-wm]

What we know now, after they have started MS

This is a short post, because life is a lot right now and i have very little emotional energy. But this felt important, so here I am.

Tonight I revisited an older post and realised I'd never completed the thought process i began there...

When Jimin released his solo album, FACE, I wrote this analysis post.

Part of that analysis talked about my impression of JK's backing vocals on Letter.

We had seen Jimin's Production Diary, and based on the clip of JK in the recording studio I thought he didn't know he would be asked to sing backing vocals.

Here's a screen grab of that post:

After watching the docuseries, BTS Monuments: Beyond The Star, we know that was correct...

It was a surprise to him when Jimin asked him.

In fact both aspects of that prediction were right, he didn't know about the song at all.

I have two questions:

Why would Jimin have kept the song a secret from JK?

And

Why wouldn't Jimin himself ask Jungkook to sing it? Why get PDogg to ask him? Jimin was RIGHT THERE.

Actually, make that three questions.

Why did Jimin scurry away as soon as JK asked to listen to the song?

Jimin earnestly said, "I made a fan song", while holding Jungkook's face in his hands.

That's such an intimate gesture, by the way. If my Best Friend held my face that way while they told me they'd done something, I'd take it to mean that the something was significant for/about me.

Jungkook asked to listen to the song, and Jimin... vanished. He retreated to the sofa to sit out of Jungkook's line of sight.

He's suddenly shy? Shy of Jungkook's reaction?? Wierd, but ok...

Unless the song is REALLY significant to JK....

In short, yes, it is REALLY significant. We already kinda guessed that right? But now, in light of their situation, it's more significant...

So, Jungkook recorded his part of the song.

Lets think about the lyrics...

Bear in mind this was written and recorded long before they had confirmation that their application for companion enlistment was successful...

These lyrics are even more significant in that context.

Plus

This is the part of the song that's in banmal. The switch from polite to familiar signals a change in the relationship, (I wrote about that in a previous post) and since Jimin always talks to ARMY politely, we can asume this part of the the song (at least) is directed at... someone else ����

"We dont know what the future holds, don't worry I'll stay by your side."

Now consider that Jimin has written these words for not only himself to sing. He's asking Jungkook to sing them with him.

He's asking Jungkook to sing this love song with him.

With no hesitation, Jungkook says yes. He does the recording there and then.

And when JK is finished recording...

He tells Jimin that the song is really nice. Immediately, Jimin is a limpet. He's all over Junkgook like he's made of Velcro. A stark contrast to his earier behaviour when his vulnerability made him scurry away.

Jimin jokes that Junkgook should record a message for ARMY and Pdogg calls him out on that lie. Of course JK refuses. "It's your song." he tells Jimin.

Jimin is pushing his luck here, first asking JK to record a message, and then asking him to claim ownership (or share responsibility) for the song.

Jk has no trouble saying no to that.

It seems like more than a meaningless joke to me. One of those suggestions alone might be, but both? It left me wondering if Jimin suddenly felt scared that he was revealing too much with the song?

I'm kinda impressed that JK, for all his love and support, wasn't prepared to rescue Jimin from his choices. He simply, but gently, said no. It tells me a lot about their relationship.

It also tells me a lot about both JK's honestly and his belief in Jimin.

eta, I was tired and once my thought bubble popped i just hit 'post' and fell asleep. But it's exactly a year since Jimin released FACE and i think it's a pretty cool coincidence that i came back to this randomly on this day.

Happy FACE day, ARMYs. 💛💜

[onesidedradiostatic]

vox's outfits through the years, based on what little we can see

let's talk about the eras of vox's outfits. I've been trying to figure out how to properly express this post for a while considering the poor quality or little details of the photos we've seen but it was difficult.

this could easily be a bit inaccurate because of that

but REGARDLESS.

so you know how it's a common theory that vox modeled his outfit after alastor, bowtie, pinstripes, upturned collars? even with a cast full of bowties (like man vivzie really loves her bowties), their outfits are pretty similar, sir pentious likely modeled himself after one or both of them too (but he's not relevant to this post, just thought I'd address him since he's the other one with the similar fit)

but you know when those aspects aren't visible in vox's fit?

his picture with val

(where he... presumably partners up with him for the first time?)

in this picture, there's no bowtie, there's no upturned collar, you can barely see any visible pinstripes (although difficult to truly tell due to the quality of the picture, I can only see a vague stripe across his sleeve), even the coloured tips of his fingers aren't visible in the picture, the qualities that are reminiscent of alastor are barely present

however, in his photo with alastor...

which is presumably taken BEFORE the one with val which we can assume because

val fell 20 years after vox, and alastor fell before vox, giving a 20 year period where vox likely associated with alastor without val

the alastor photo is black and white while the val one is in colour

in that photo...

...vox seems to have visible pinstripes on his shoulder. which isn't much, but when he's standing right next to alastor like that, the similarities stand out. even with that small part of his shoulder, it clearly mirrors alastor.

of course, most of vox is obscured in this photo so I can't say it with 100% accuracy (we can't tell whether or not he has a bowtie and upturned collar or not. whether he started out with the stupid orange-red turtleneck). but with the alastor mirroring? seems to show mimicry of alastor during the time when they were friends.

this is working on a LOT of assumptions right now due to unclear details of the photos but what it seems like to me is

vox mimics alastor's fit -> vox/alastor falling out + partnering up with val -> stops mimicking alastor -> alastor disappears for 7 years -> starts mimicking alastor again? (current fit)

the possibility of him changing his fit to not mimic alastor in his picture with val could put his falling out with alastor at around the same time as his partnership with val, but this is working off a bit of a weaker assumption due to like 80% of vox not being visible in the vox + alastor photo. so feel free to take this one with a grain of salt.

very interesting to me though, that there was a period of time, in the beginning of his partnership with val where he wasn't mimicking alastor, but somewhere down the line to his current fit, he decided to start mimicking him again, despite this definitely being an era after their falling out. that he for some reason, despite hating alastor now, decided to go back to mimicking alastor, whether consciously or not. maybe even because of how much he felt his absence during those 7 years?

or maybe vivziepop just really likes pinstripes and bowties and upturned collars and there isn't a deeper meaning to this who knows

this is a post I've wanted to make for a while, but the finer details of the photos being unclear has just made me constantly make edits to it due to unknown factors, like I said, it's very possible certain details are inaccurate due to lack of information, but I'm trying to work with something here, so hopefully this is comprehensible.

although not the cause of this post, this comic got me to revisit this in my drafts (and has a really good take on vox mimicking alastor during his 7 year absence, which DID inspire one of the hypotheticals of this post) so check that out

[doylldonmagar]

So I saw @hermesmyplatonicbeloved 's post and had some thoughts. I agree and disagree. I am a percabeth fan but I also know that some of it is screwy, and if you are familiar with my blog, you know this. I think RR screwed up and wrote out a LOT of trauma, I think he really should have dealt with that better. I think it's not good that he wrote trauma and mental issues and abuse into the foundation of many characters and then has ignored it when it became convenient for the plot.

I would love to see specific quotes and books for these because some of them I have no memory of and would like to revisit them.

I'm gonna talk my way through all of this so I'm gonna text break here

The first point is Percy scaring her to tears. I can only imagine in Tartarus? Like when they're both in their worst state? I don't know. I agree they should have talked about it, but I think they should have talked about all of HoH, which brings me back to saying: Rick really failed at dealing with trauma and processing and long term effects. Honestly, being scared *of* him, yeah I agree that's bad, but is that the situation? If she's scared by his power, then I'm not sure of where I stand on this, I don't know anyone with demigod powers, but I don't think I'd be scared simply because I know someone is capable of hurting me. Plenty of people are capable of hurting me. Like I don't know, what situation is this?

"Percy has been suicidal the whole time annabeth has known him, in BoO Percy attempts suicide and annabeth said nothing, noticed nothing" I'd really like a page or quote because i remember him being suicidal but never attempting. (Im rereading what i wrote, is this maybe referring to percy deciding it would be better if he drowned when hes with Jason? If so, I thought the book said annabeth wasn't told that he wanted to give up) But really my bigger issue with this statement is the fact that it's not necessarily a bad relationship just because a person doesn't realize someone is suicidal, or if their suicidal thoughts are fluctuating. If he's been suicidal the entire time she's known him, how should she know? And why is it the girlfriend's job to stop him from suicide? Like yeah she should care, but that's not her responsibility. No one should feel responsible for a significant other's suicide unless they encouraged the SO to do it.

The judo flip, I agree, annabeth should have been more sensitive to Percy's past and again, I blame Rick for conveniently forgetting that an abused kid is not going to laugh or even take well to being thrown on the ground. This also reminds me of a post I made a while back, because I was so frustrated by media portrayals of women getting upset (usually worried) about another character and shaking them or hitting them or using some form of violence, and that's portrayed as acceptable and normal and as a sign of love. I'm not a fan of that.

"Annabeth likes to keep percy on his toes" this point, I want specific quotes, cause I'd like to go over it again. I agree this is funky. Percy says he feels more comfortable with annabeth and feels like he can talk to her blah blah, but yeah, I think I remember him saying she makes him anxious and that's a problem for me. Like genuinely, to anyone who reads this: if your SO makes you feel uncomfortable, anxious, nervous, or unsafe, please reevaluate your relationship and be safe. That's not good. And back to percabeth, I'm really not sure why RR would say that.

Bringing up abusive stepfather. If annabeth didn't already know about Gabe...I don't know, that says to me that percy was too traumatized to talk about it, in which case, why can annabeth see it in his actions, his comments, his reactions? I don't know that either. But I do know that having met my fair share of traumatized kids, it's not at all uncommon for them to share trauma as a joke and for multiple kids to laugh it off, not to mention suicidal jokes or jokes about their own abuse. Now I want to be clear, I'm not saying that's healthy, I think that's bad, but I also think it's common. And if annabeth doesn't realize what he's really talking about, or is caught up in her own experience, or is uncomfortable, laughing is not an uncommon response. And I don't think that makes their relationship toxic. (And I'm saying it again: I think Rick wrote that so that people could say oh poor percy and feel strongly about how horrible the situation is, but he didn't want to get into the trauma, so by annabeth laughing it off, he can move on with the scene but include little details that show how bad tartarus is)

I don't remember any comments about poseiden, but I agree her interactions with Tyson are problematic. I have zero explanation or excuse, I really don't know what rick was thinking with that, unless it was maybe a way to signify how all halfbloods feel about monsters? (Now that I've said that, that kinda makes sense, if percy sees a monster who was his human friend, but everyone else just sees a monster who is just like the other monsters who have killed their siblings. But still. Annabeth saying he was gross was uncalled for, Rick could have said she was scared or concerned this was a trick or something, but disgust?)

I agree about Percy's unresolved trauma manifesting as fear of annabeth. I already commented on the judo flip, see comments above.

Percy absolutely has horrible self asteem. I'm not sure that's annabeths problem. Yeah she should support him in every way she can, but it's not her responsibility or anyone else's to make him feel better about himself. She should want to, and she should be positive and encouraging, but I don't think Percy's lack of growth is her problem or necessarily a sign of a toxic relationship. It can be, but I'm not certain it is in this case. I think, as I'm sure you know if you've read this much, Rick doesn't know how to write characters who are further along in their trauma- processing, healing, discussing- rick fails to deal with anything besides a currently traumatized kid and a unresolved but out of the directly abusive situation. (This is where I'd like to note, the whole seaweed brain thing, not funny to me, not cute. I'm not a fan because I do think that encourages negative self image. I am aware that that could be link to annabeths childhood, but again, I would expect her to be hyperaware of this sort of emotional abuse. And I blame Rick. Why does she never have her actual abuse mentioned?)

I don't recall annabeth pushing percy to choose between them. I would have said she had doubts about him still wanting to go to CA and he said that he regretted not being there for Estelle but didn't want to be without annabeth (which is kinda cute, kinda codependent to me, and I agree, codependency is not cute)

I would argue the last point "Percy has no interest in going to New Rome or University" is clearly false. In SoN (2nd book of HOO) Percy discovers there are full families living in New Rome, and how it's safe there, and he says multiple times that he wants that, how he remembers he had a girlfriend named annabeth and he wants her to be there and wants to be able to settle down *there*. And in ChaliceotG he's torn, because he does want to stay in New York for his mom and sister, but he really wants to be with annabeth and he loves new Rome. He says multiple times how he wants to go to New Rome. Its true, if the only reason he wants to go is for annabeth, that's a bit funky. But new Rome is the safest place for demigods, and he's been in wars for years, of course he wants that. And wanting to be out of school- okay? New Rome isn't just about the university, not to mention the New Rome university is focused on kids with dyslexia and adhd, obviously. So it will be tailored to him, his struggles are understood, accepted, and aided. Who wouldn't see the appeal in that?

And finally, I agree, that if a character or couple is going to have broad reach, they should be healthy. That's a problem i have with Colleen hoover and all her toxic relationships that have a large audience and are so loved by that audience. And back to this, I hate that the pjo hoo couples are so focused on in the books because fans always pay attention to the couples, but the focus amplifies them, and I think having a relationship be the main focus of a kids/teen/ya book sets up horrible mindsets, and idolizes relationships and all in all is not good for kids. Percabeth or not, healthy or not, I don't think the emphasis on relationships is good.

I might link some of my other posts that I mentioned or that address similar issues in the reblogs

[aihoshiino]

chapter 155 thoughts

Thanks for your patience! I had some stuff crop up IRL this week that kept getting in the way of my chapter review but we're so oshi no back

Chapters Since The 143 Kiss Happened And Went Entirely Unacknowledged And Unaddressed Count: 12

Aqua Hoshigan Status: White

i can't believe toxic yuri was the real core theme of this manga all along

With the long road to revenge seemingly conquered, Oshi no Ko eases us into a bit of a false high before the real finale comes barrelling in. As with 152, it feels like we're tying off a number of arcs that have lasted through the series, with certain characters getting what is clearly supposed to be their big emotional resolutions… and unfortunately, as with 153-4, while a lot of these beats are satisfying on paper, they suffer a lack of buildup that makes them ring a bit hollow. OnK's clumsy handling of certain characters during the Movie Arc has really come back to bite it during the finale, leaving me feeling like a lot of the emotional payoffs for them are undercut and the character work they're doing doesn't have the groundwork it needs to properly resonate. I defo didn't hate this chapter like some folks seemed to, but it has some pretty substantial issues in terms of micro and macro storytelling I am compelled to talk about. This is one of those chapter reviews I think comes across way more negative than it necessarily is lol but man did this one give me a headache…

To start things off, the thing that initially delayed this review: page fucking one!!! By total coincidence, this was the first chapter in basically forever where I didn't get a chance to look at the JP raws until like two days after it dropped and as such I was ripping my hair out trying to figure out who the narrator was on page one - the use of 'Mama' made me wonder if it was Ruby, but the visual flow of the page is much more biased in favor of Aqua and I probably don't need to tell you how fucking huge it would be for Aqua to have called Ai that for the first time!!! However, based on the speech patterns of the speaker in Japanese and the way subsequent pages flow from this intro, I'm pretty settled on it being Ruby - this chapter is a sort of closing of the book on her involvement in the revenge play or as my friend Mala put it, it's Ruby's homecoming so to speak. And like… honestly, thank god lol.

I get a lot of Ruby fans have wanted her to be more involved in this side of the story for a good while but I think the Black Hoshigan Ruby arc playing out like it did made it pretty clear that Ruby as a character is not super well suited to playing a role in the revenge half of OnK in the way that Akasaka wants it to be written. Not just that, but her actual post-BH characterization in relation to this arc has been such a wet fart that I really think it has taken away a lot more than it has added to her arc.

Not only that but… most of it didn't even happen onscreen lol! Not only did we get that absolutely baffling speech in 147 where she literally looked into the camera and Explained With Her Words the character arc she was supposedly having this whole time (just offscreen and nowhere the reader could see) but we now get Aqua going "well ruby decided to forgive him so it is what it is i guess". It feels so limp as a reason for him to have flipped on a dime like he did, especially when we still haven't fucking seen this supposedly lifechanging performance of Ruby's!!!! SO many characters have the resolutions to their Ai-adjacent arcs connected to how Ruby chose to play Ai in the movie but we're not actually seeing it. We're just sort of talking around it and having it exposited to us. I want to assume this is setup for us eventually seeing it ourselves but like… at this point, IS there any point to us revisiting the movie's content? Everything we might have learned from it has already been addressed by characters Telling Us To Our Faces How It Made Them Feel And Gave Them Therapy so it would ultimately be superfluous.

God. I hate still bitching about the Movie Arc now we're out of it, but it really is the albatross around the neck of this finale. So many of the issues littered through these last ten or so chapters are the result of the Movie Arc's fumbling and misuse of the cast and its failure to establish the emotional throughlines that should have been tied off by these chapters. I keep feeling like I'm repeating myself when I talk about XYZ Narrative Beat not being bad on paper but being less effective than it should do because of lacking underlying foundation but it really is the one central thing plaguing this arc right now.

i get what you guys are going for but. seeing aqua just let kamiki walk away when he has definitely killed people is really funny.

The twins' return to Miyako is another moment that I like in theory but honestly just feels frustrating. It's been over 25 chapters - a week short of an entire year since 125 came out where Miyako lamented her inability to reach the twins like a 'real' mother would and this thread was immediately dropped like a rock. She had zero involvement in the Movie Arc even during parts it was straight up absurd that she was not at least reacting to the events going on, didn't have any reaction to the movie or like… anything going on that could have more organically lead to this development.

I also have to say. The twins returning to Miyako performing this Snapshot of Aesthetic Motherhood (as u/DeliSoupItExplodes on the OnK sub put it) felt kind of. Weird and even a little icky to me in a way I've been struggling to articulate. Just that it felt extremely on the nose and kind of. eeeh.

that said. i won't pretend i'm not 4x critically weak to an 'okaeri' / 'tadaima' exchange at the end of a long quest or journey…

For all my complaints about the surrounding context, this scene in isolation is pretty much the one part of this chapter that just uncritically works. It's hard not to read it as a parallel to Miyako offering to adopt the kids in chapter 10 - except there, Aqua refuses to step into his new family. Here, Miyako pulls him into the embrace and the two of them finally engage not as peers but as a mother and son, as they've needed to do all this time. Her words here are so lovely and so, so sincere that it's really no wonder Aqua breaks down in tears. As much as I've bitched about the lacking work in his arc across the last major chunk of chapters, it's nevertheless been incredibly cathartic to see Aqua finally start letting down his walls, believing in his future and letting people love him. I just wish it had the buildup to really land.

also the twins just… still have not had a real conversation or interaction about literally anything lol.

Ichigo's back…! I already aired my major complaint about this scene vis-a-vis Ruby but I imagine this is the last time we're going to get a real Moment with Ichigo so I might as well get this off my chest now: it was and continues to be utterly bonkers to me that of the characters we saw having Feelings about the 15 Year Lie cast screening, Ichigo was not one of them. And it's even more bonkers that we got this whole bit waxing poetic about fucking Kaburagi and how he feels soooo bad about Ai when like… I'm sorry, but Kaburagi's feelings about Ai are so low on my list of priorities as to be functionally irrelevant. Quite frankly, he does not matter and it's INSANE that the story gave this misty-eyed moment to him and not Ichigo - you know, the agent of the industry that went on to exploit and kill her, her literal, actual dad whose guilt over what happened to her made him ghost his family for nearly twenty years? Can you imagine what an insanely powerful moment of resolution it would've been for that moment of Kaburagi addressing Ai through the 15YL poster to have gone to Ichigo instead?

I also have to note this weird ongoing thread of 'the Dome' being framed as Ai's dream that Ruby is inheriting when it, uh, patently was not! I'm sure she felt some pride in her success but all she herself said on the matter back when it came up was that she didn't get what a big deal it was but that since everyone else was happy, she'd be happy too. I initially took this to be laying the groundwork to disprove this idea and make the characters work out what Ai really wanted in her heart of hearts but now the narrative seems to just be uncritically treating this as a value neutral fact. So… who even knows lol.

Short hair Akane returns…! I don't imagine it was planned, but it's a cute coincidence that she cut her hair in the manga right around the time anime Akane grew hers out for season 2. I've always liked short hair Akane best so this was a nice surprise…

I have to say it was uh, really funny to see so many people get so shocked and mad when Akane talked about 'imitating Hoshino Ai' and screaming that this was a retcon or ruining Akane's character when like… was this really news to you guys??? Even before she grew her hair out, she flipped her bangs to go in the same direction as Ai's as soon as she started acting as her and she was popping hoshigans all over the place when she was getting her career off the ground… like, seriously, was this really a shock to people???

Anyway uh. Vindication for me from this scene!!! I've been pointing out for over a year now that we should be very cautious about taking it at face value that Hikaru killed Gorou and Yura because the story has been very delicately implying that to be the case while avoiding confirming it outright in a way that reeked of a red herring to me. That combined with his failure to even mention these two victims while 'fessing up to Aqua really raised some additional red flags for me and finally, we see Aqua confirming that no, Hikaru was not the one person behind everything, Light Yagami style and the final boss of the series seems set to be B-Komachi's former Queen of Smiles. Fuyuko Niino.

And Iiiiiiiii… feel very uneasy about this twist!

First of all; I have to acknowledge that nope, we have no fuckin clue how either Aqua or Akane figured this out but we'll probably get the exposition in that regard over and done with next chapter. Also something a lot of people caught is that Ryosuke is referred to with a different name here - Sugano vs Kaihara, which was used during the Movie Arc. I've heard this called out as a mistake/retcon and it could be, but tbh I'm inclined to think it's just that Ryosuke's name was changed for the movie, since a point is made about needing everyone's permission to include them in the movie and they, uh… can't exactly ask Ryosuke!

But… back to the real point here.

Nino has been one of my favourite OnK characters since I first read 45510 and every subsequent expansion on her character and her relationship with Ai has only made me more invested in her. But the story setting her up as the final villain here is… it leaves me feeling a little cold and very uncertain about how it'll go.

First off, the framing of Nino on these last two pages is just so overwrought that it's a little ridiculous lol. The image of her squatting in her filthy room, listening to old B-Komachi tracks and staring at a poster of the old group with all the other members but her and Ai aggressively scribbled out… it feels downright parodic to an extent that I think honestly makes Nino that much less nuanced and human by its inclusion alone.

Like… a big part of what I loved about Nino's inclusion in the story and how her relationship with Ai was framed was that it was messy and honest in a way that felt like it wasn't judging Nino herself or making her out to be a villain. Her and Ai's relationship breakdown was a two-sided failure of communication spurred on in large part by Ai's own avoidance and inability to have frank, sincere discussions with the people who cared about her. Nino's tangled up feelings of admiration and desire, envy and resentment, love and hate were not flattering but they felt so real and so human. She was a young girl put into an impossible situation and without the power to change the invisible dynamics of the systems around her, she lashed out at the person in front of her that she could see. The impression I always got was that part of what so deeply fucked up her feelings about Ai was her lack of closure - that she had never gotten to say sorry or patch things up. That she had screamed I wish you'd die at someone she loved and then she fucking died. No wonder she was a mess.

All this though… maybe I'm overreacting when we're just a page and a half into this reveal but again, the framing here really does feel so exaggerated and shallow. It feels like it's falling into the trap OnK previously fell into with the GRSR relationship where it attempts to amp up the drama by massively overexagerrating the emotions at play, blowing them up to their hugest possible extreme and letting all nuance and subtlety get lost in the noise. Ultimately, this will all come down to execution and while it's possible for AkaMengo to get us back on track with the Nino I already liked… idk. Like I said. I'm uneasy.

I also can't let it go unsaid - accidentally or otherwise, the framing of Nino here leans extremely hard into the stereotype of the 'psycho'/predatory lesbian and I don't think I need to explain why that sucks donkey nuts, especially in the midst of a manga that is so insufferably hetero at all other times.

at least she has good taste in b-komachi tracks.

[animasola86]

Sebastian Sallow Headcanons (revisited)

I made a similar post a while back, but I think it's time to revisit it.

Sebastian Sallow is a Scorpio (born between Oct 23 and Nov 22).

Typical Scorpio traits include being resourceful, ambitious, brave, (com)passionate, possessive, jealous, loyal, supportive, emotional, intense. I’d say he is all that. Also fits the Slytherin characteristics.

I don't have a particular date in mind for him anymore, but I'd say around Halloween or after would suit him and Anne. (I haven't looked at the actual Astrology aspect of it, leaving that to the experts here!)

He is a nerd and an athlete.

He is the kind of nerd who will hit you with knowledge when you least expect it and never as the know-it-all type, but rather the let-me-share-my-knowledge type. I'm sure he'll be actually fun at parties.

And I see no problem in him being hunched over books for hours on end and being physically fit at the same time. (Yes, he seemed a little unfit at the start of fifth year, being all breathless on the way to Hogsmeade and during a mission up some stairs, but I'll ignore that. He'll grow into it.)

So he's not only fit enough to brave all those stairs in Hogwarts, I also see him on the Quidditch team. I initially had him as a Beater in my head, and I still stand by it, but I do see him as a Seeker as well now, just because how he can show off by catching the Snitch.

(I don't see him as a Chaser, too average a position for him imo, or a Keeper, I think he'd be too hyper to stay in one place all the time, even though his protective trait might play into it, but he can focus on that more when he hits some Bludgers around.)

He is tall.

I also HC that Ominis is taller, but Sebastian is still tall. I put him at 1.80m/180cm (5′11″) initially, but I might even put him taller now. He'll definitely have another growth spurt during his last years at Hogwarts and grow into an even taller adult, so for now, let's settle on him being 1.85m/185cm/6'1" at the end of the game. (Angst can make you grow, yes.)

(And I need him to be tall because my MCs usually are quite short and I just love that size difference dynamic so much!)

He is an extrovert.

He might have his baggage to carry during his fifth year (and beyond), but he still has many extrovert tendencies, especially needing people around to recharge - even if it's just one person (our MC preferably). He is a twin, so being alone was never really an option before Anne got sick.

That's why he hates being alone, he'll certainly have his mind flooded with doubts and dark thoughts if he happens to be alone. That might make him clingy and/or overprotective towards his significant other/friends, but if it helps him sleep at night, he won't hesitate to hog those special people to his advantage.

He is a light sleeper.

And probably has nightmares more than your average boy considering all the stress he puts himself under, with his worries for Anne and the constant abuse from Solomon and his general past (loss of his parents, etc.).

Yet even though he might have trouble falling asleep and sleeping in general, I do think he can sleep anywhere, thinking about the shed in Feldcroft that the fandom considers to be his place to stay when he visits his sister. Also as a twin he was probably used to sharing small spaces and finding sleep wherever he can.

He can't sit still for long.

Call it ADHD, restless legs syndrome or general nerves, he probably can't sit still and has to fidget a lot as well. Might conflict with his ability to absorb himself in books for hours on end, but even when reading, I'd imagine him moving a lot (think back to him pacing in front of the fireplace in the Slytherin common room, or his constant walking cycle through the DADA tower, etc.).

His favorite color is green.

Obvious choice, I just needed something to end this with. So here we go. Green for Slytherin, for nature, and maybe, probably hope? Who knows.

[ 🔞 NSFW Sebastian Sallow Headcanons ]

[vgperson]

What Did I Do In 2023?

Whatever I wanted, mostly.

----

As I mentioned last year, my site now has an RSS feed with basically everything I've done back to 2020, so this will mainly be going over the same stuff from that, just with added context.

In January, I finally sat down and properly realized an idea for a short story I'd had sitting around for a while: From the Sidelines, about a fantasy RPG expedition going sideways. I remain very proud of it in both concept and execution, and hope people read it.

In February, Your Turn To Die was released on Steam Early Access, receiving character profiles and some bonus mini-episodes, adding two more later in the year.

After finishing From the Sidelines, I carried that momentum to revisit my Ut0p1a story series about funny computer animals. I'd always meant to continue it - and conclude it - but hadn't been satisfied with the ideas I had for it until totally rethinking them this year. In March, I posted the remaining stories one after another: Right to Code and Left to Code. I'm very proud of these as well. Also in March, Kenshi Yonezu released LADY. (Video, interview)

In April, Uri released the Data Book of the Strange Men Series, a big collection of the writing she's done on the games in the series, with a lot of new parts as well, all translated by me.

Then in May... uh, well, let's see. In April, Capcom released the Mega Man Battle Network Legacy Collection. I always adored the Battle Network games, and was initially excited that they finally did the thing... but by the time it came out, I was pretty disappointed by how, while you certainly couldn't call them low-effort ports, the effort didn't extend everywhere I thought it should, with the biggest offenders being the total absence of any "convenience features" except Buster Max Mode, the bad font, and the almost entirely untouched translations.

So, I ended up deciding I might as well just replay the originals, and that was a fun time (aside from the parts that were bad). Doing this, I couldn't help but notice how... turbulent the translations were, even if I'd always known they were less than ideal. I mean, the first two games just used periods for ellipses despite the tight character limits, then in BN3 they had an ellipsis character... but it's center-aligned, Japanese-style? Aside from the intro, which has normal ones? Gosh, somebody should fix that - it's simple enough to find and edit in YY-CHR. "JapanMan" is silly, too - I wonder if anybody made a patch for that? Wait, what do you mean there's just a tool to extract and insert text in all the Battle Network games including the Legacy Collection???

Thus began a journey that sort of occupied the rest of my year. First I did the BN3 Translation Revision, trying not to worry too much about cross-referencing the Japanese text unless something seemed wrong, so that I didn't spend too long on the project. Then I began to consider BN2, with its unfortunate "foreigner" text that would need some more significant reworking. I established more convenient tools for comparing with the Japanese script, and thus did a much more thorough job with it, releasing the BN2 Translation Revision in June (AKA Princess Pride Month).

Finally, after giving myself time to recover and actually finish replaying the series, I knew what I had to do to close things out. With the BN4 Translation Revision, you can finally play Battle Network 4 with a translation that isn't such a mess. Whether you'd want to is for you to decide, though if you can get over the structure, I don't think it's the worst game in the series by any means. (Oh, and in December I also updated the BN3 Revision to 1.1, doing a thorough pass with the methods I'd honed. But I think I'm pretty much good on MMBN translations now.)

Anyway, backtracking to other things that happened during my Battle Network haze... June had Kenshi Yonezu's Moongazing (video, interview), and July had Globe (video, interview, interview).

Last but not least, released in November, I translated Refind Self: The Personality Test Game, a short game from Lizardry (creator of 7 Days to End with You) with a fun concept.

----

Obviously I was right to have said "no promises" last year. But really, Your Turn To Die should get its final part on Steam sometime next year, maybe even early-ish in it. That's certainly the goal.

I'm also hoping to buckle down and finish one of my own games, but as usual, who knows how that'll pan out. Letting my whims carry me this year let me finally finish From the Sidelines and Ut0p1a, which was great, and it also led me down a Battle Network rabbit hole, which was... fine, but definitely for a narrower audience. I'd always like to get back to more free game translations and the like, too, but it takes effort to find things I'd want to translate. For now, I think my increasing desire to be able to let loose some of these original games I've been planning, and the stories in them, might come out on top.

[canonicallyobserving911]

Buck & Eddie: Buck is looking for answers!

Before 6x15 aired, I wrote a speculation post about Buck's "Therapy Uniform vs. his date clothes" (linked here) but everyone knows how the season ended with the showrunner pulling that BS by having Eddie revert back to being a giggly high school student who acted like an 18-year-old that didn't know how to ask a woman out on a date. And Buck literally made the same mistake by sleeping with a woman he just met who only wanted one thing from him but I digress. It still pisses me off, so I won't revisit it.

Also, I did a post after 6x13 aired (linked here) about Buck finding the answers (Eddie and Chris) because when he said he was the guy with the answers, he looked at Eddie.

Anyway, after TM (showrunner, GLAD HE'S BACK so KR can kick rocks and go write an episode) released more cryptic Buck, Eddie and Chris pictures at dark o'clock Saturday night or Sunday morning (depending on your time zone), I revisited my theory about Buck's therapy uniform but now I've revised it. He does wear one but the reason he does is a lot narrower in scope. Even though I still believe he wears specific colors or a "uniform" per say for certain things, I realized after doing some analysis that whenever he wears a Gold/Bronze/Burnt Orange/Dark Orange or a Brown shirt with navy-blue or dark colored pants, he's LOOKING FOR ANSWERS!

That's the difference between my original post and this one and I have photos from each episode to prove my updated theory. Before I delve into this, I need to mention there are two pictures from season 6 that contain the colors but BE WARNED, the pictures included deal specifically with the COUCH METAPHOR 🙄🙃. I know, I know... the season ended with Buck asking ND to help him find a couch but full disclosure, after I started working through my frustration with the way the season ended by writing a huge fanfic, I took a closer look at their whatever the hell they were doing (it wasn't a relationship) and I don't think it was meant to be interpreted that way. I won't go into it here in my CANON posts but if you want to know my thoughts on it, I've included them in my love for FANON writing in my multi-chapter fanfic titled "I'm still in love with you but... I needed to learn how to love myself too!".

Now, let's get into this topic and review Buck's looking for answers uniform.

In 4x2, Buck was looking for ANSWERS from Dr. Copeland and he said, "I think you were right when you said I hide my true feelings from others".

In 4x3 Buck told Maddie and Chimney he was seeing a therapist to help him find the ANSWERS and he started to find them but then everything went to $hit when the Buckley parents showed up.

In 4x4, Buck showed up at Maddie's and Chimney's apartment looking for ANSWERS about his parents and that's when he found out about Daniel.

In 4x8, Buck was lost and trying to find ANSWERS because guess who started dating again? EDDIE! And he was getting ready to introduce AF to Chris but Chris got upset and ran away and took an Uber to Buck's loft.

In 4x11, Buck and TK were FRIENEMIES (not friends even though he believed they were) so he contacted her and asked her for help because he wanted to find the ANSWERS regarding who hit Sue Blevins and ran.

In 4x14, Buck wore his "looking for ANSWERS" uniform twice and BOTH TIMES his quest involved Eddie! The first time was when he was packing more clothes to go to Eddie's house so he could keep taking care of Chris. That's when he got the call from AF after TK kissed him and ran so I've included two pictures so his shirt can be seen better while he's sitting at Eddie's beside. He was looking for answers about Eddie being shot in front of him and his heart being ripped out of his chest when it happened.

The second time he was looking for ANSWERS, he was in the hospital talking to Eddie during THE WILL REVEAL! 🤪😜

In 5x3, Buck was once again looking for ANSWERS about his relationship but reminder, he went home to an empty loft after he told Eddie during the blackout to break up with AF🤪.

In 5x4, he was looking for ANSWERS about Maddie and why she left him again even though she promised him she wouldn't in 3x16. Did she tell him she was leaving, YES! But reminder, she didn't tell him where she was going and all he told Chimney was "It's what she does, leave".

In 6x1, at the end of the episode, Buck was looking for ANSWERS again but this time it was about his couch or the lack thereof. At the beginning of the episode, he cooked dinner for him and his Diaz boys and they made fun of him for not having one even though THEY WERE SITTING RIGHT THERE IN FRONT OF HIM. He missed the fact that they were waiting for him and had been since he broke up with TK and he still didn't get it. The picture shows Buck carrying his armchair (which is the same color of the shirt he wears when he's looking for answers) and he moved it to where his couch once sat.

In 6x4, Buck was looking for ANSWERS again when he was trying to decide if he should be Connor's sperm donor.

In 6x12, Buck was lying on the couch looking for ANSWERS about his death but reminder, the color of the couch is close to the color of his armchair but it's hard to see. He's wearing a navy-blue t-shirt while lying on that uncomfortable orange couch his mother bought even though he told her HE'D FIND ONE ON HIS OWN.

In 6x15, Buck was looking for ANSWERS about the fact that he died but ND was fangirling over him so hard that he LIKED the attention she was giving him then he said that Bull$hit to Eddie about her seeing him and Buck and Eddie went back to making the same mistakes. Eddie let people (**cough** Pepa and **cough** Bobby) tell him he should date instead of finding his own way. And Buck tried to make another woman like him when in fact all she wanted was his "Firehose".

In 6x17, he was still looking for ANSWERS but this time it was answers regarding how to calculate the tip at the bar he took ND to and that's when LD showed up and insinuated, they hooked up when she knows they didn't. Reminder, Buck could only do math when he was with Eddie and Chris and the firefam but he couldn't calculate $hit when he was on a date with ND🤪🙃😁😉.

Finally, in Season 7 (TM didn't specify which episode the scene below will appear in his cryptic post), Buck's wearing his LOOKING FOR ANSWERS colored shirt again. The color pants he's wearing while he sits on Chris' bed can't be seen but based on 6x13 when Chris wanted Buck to give him the answers to his math homework and since Chris is clearly doing homework in the picture, it's possible he's asking Buck to help him but he doesn't have the answers anymore because his special skills wore off after 6x13 which just so happened to be the episode the Buckley-Diaz family was together 90% of the time.

What, if anything, does all this mean? I'm not speculating but will Buck finally find the answers in Season 7 or will it be more of the same, him looking for answers while Eddie tries to make another relationship work with someone he doesn't want to be with or will Buck and Eddie finally TALK about all their traumas and confess how much they love each other? Only TM, the producers and the actors know the answers to that question.

[comradeboyhalo]

I had wrote a post a month ago about q!Bad's role in the narrative, and I want to revisit it. (Full disclaimer, this is just Not Real. I'm analyzing mcrp like a conventional narrative for fun. There are no actual "roles": every character is a main character.)

The analysis had come after months of Bad being a large part of lore, but not a major player. The mysteries and missions he went on were never his own. He was known as a strong fighter, until the codes directed their attention at Etoiles. He was second place in the election. Characters would get kidnapped or given enigmas, and q!Bad always played support. At the time, we were all impatient that he had no special Federation plotline after months of arriving on the island (no shade to the admins here - we're not talking meta).

But that brings us to present day, and suddenly Bad has become a very proactive character. His kids are gone, he has a motive, and suddenly he's the one changing the story. In literature, there is the trope of a "passive character": one that is affected by the story, one who is led by the plot. q!Bad is certainly not this character anymore. Instead of letting the Federation set the scene, he takes a page out of their book. He kidnaps one of theirs. Instead of theorizing about a spy like he did months ago, he's now actively feeding information to others to find a puppet. His skin is deteriorating due to his self-inflicted punishment. There has been a spike in posts and tweets about how Bad did [x] to [y] character. And that's what I'm talking about: Bad is moving his own plot. He is now what others react to.

And still. This is not Federation-designed. This is all on his hands. It's very rare that QSMP characters are so untouched by the Federation. Many characters are punished by the Federation. Many characters discover a storyline tied to the Federation. Many characters are experiments of the Federation. Bad has none of this. And I'm not at all saying this is unique to Bad, or that Bad is the only one who's actively moving his own plot, I just think that this provides a really interesting insight to Bad's character. (Again: this is a NON-META analysis! Every creator writes/helps writes their own storylines).

He is an extremely insular character. The Federation only investigated him when he made himself too hard to ignore. Aside from that? They do nothing. Secret shulker boxes? They were tied to Cellbit's lore. The tickets? Everyone ended up getting one. Imprisonment? Okay, but only for 15 minutes. He remembers his backstory, he remembers his life before the island. While the Federation could have interfered anytime in his lifetime, he's over 11,000 years old. His core trauma stems from (presumably) Atlantis. None of that is connected at all to the Federation. Drop q!Bad in another server, and nothing about his backstory changes. The more I think about it, the more odd it strikes me that Bad is an original islander, and he is so untouched by the Federation.

So this brings us to Bad's biggest Federation tie, which are the emails from before the server started. And even then, it implies that Bad is not a worker or an experiment, but a guest. And a special one, at that. It's very hard to take the emails as any definitive evidence, but what stands out to me is this quote:

"We are seeking quotes for the purchase of 1393 muffins to satisfy the extra demand of our special guest."

Each word here is the Federation catering to the special guest. The Federation has been given a demand, and they are fulfilling it. They are the reactionary party here. They are not the ones pulling the strings. They are not penning this story. It is the guest who is doing so, and, in theory, q!Bad.

So we come back to the same conclusion. Perhaps this has always been Bad's "role" - the special guest of Quesadilla Island. Invited to sit at the table, but not to give a speech. Perhaps he just never is going to get that Federation-tailored storyline because he is not meant to. His story started in Atlantis and he will always be pushing forward his own already-established plot. The Federation is just another antagonist in an already long, long tale. Everything he does is self-inflicted. Doesn't it make sense if this applies to the narrative as well?

[randomdragonfires]

it's me, hi!

Hello everyone! it's me - randomdragonfires/sam and this is my new blog!

This is a note for anyone who remembers me - hello, I'm back here, I suppose! First off, I'm going to say this: I'm genuinely sorry to those whom I worried while I took off without saying a word. I was gone a whole month and I left no way to be contacted. I can understand how that could worry those of you who cared, and I should have acted better.

I left for a bit simply because I needed to catch a breath. Writing started to seem a bit like a chore, and there was too much about the fandom that made me sad, frustrated, angry and petty each time I opened my feed. I was not writing and I was not a happy participant - there was very little reason for me to stay and make myself miserable, when I could have been clearing my head, giving myself space and falling in love with writing for fandom all over again.

Which is what I've been doing in the past month.

Deleting my tumblr and discord was not a decision I made impulsively. I had been considering it for weeks, and I am glad I did. Now, after a clean long break, I've come back with a much more healthier relationship with this blog and the fandom, and I'm genuinely in a better space. I look forward to writing and posting here again too.

I've missed it so much more than you know.

that's great, Sam! so, how have you been?

It's good. It's bumpy and weird, but things are good. I hope they've been good for you guys too. <3

If this is your next question, then here it is!

I've been very busy. I work a 9-6 job as a creative writer 6 days a week and I also study for my executive masters program (in journalism and PR, if you're wondering) when I'm not working. I'm involved in a few freelance projects and when I'm not doing any of this, I prefer to read or sleep or go on fast hour-long walks; simply because it all keeps me away from my electronics. I'm constantly drained creatively, and it sucks - but I'm also engaged 24x7, learning something new and doing productive things.

will you be writing again?

If this is something that you're wondering about, then yes. I do plan on writing. I am starting a series that I am trying to pour my entire soul into - but it is going slowly. Like I mentioned, I have a tight schedule and it keeps me busy every second of the day, so I write when I can.

I plan on announcing my new series with a story masterpost anytime now. If you're interested, perhaps you should keep an eye on this space!

I will also be reuploading a selected collection of some of my work from my old blog - so if you'd like to give those a revisit, then feel free to!

that's it from me!

I'm happy to be back in the thick of things, and I hope that, to some extent, you're glad to see me back too. I'm here to be a positive, non-problematic presence that writes good fic, supports other artists, and is happy about it. Negativity in excess had me step away once, and I hope I'll never have to do that again.

Let's all be kinder, or at least try. :)

[godihatethiswebsite]

Desert Oasis

✽ Johnny "Soap" Mactavish x f!reader (The Mummy AU)

Main Masterlist ✽ Ao3

°•. ✿ .•°.•° ✿ °•.°•. ✿ .•°.•° ✿ °•.°•. ✿ .•°

✽ Part 8 - On a horse with no name

Let's just assume from now on that I'm incapable of writing anything that could conceivably be referred to as a 'normal length', shall we? I already broke this up with part 7 and I didn't want to give you three chapters of just desert.

Also I have an Ao3 now if any of you would prefer to read it over there instead. All of my works will be cross posted.

Buckle in for this almost 13k monstrosity! :)

Traveling the first leg of the desert was definitely not a glamorous endeavor. Adjusting to a horse’s gait was far different than that of a camel’s pace. Whereas you were familiar with the lateral walk of the former which had diagonal leg pairs moving together, the latter moved in a syncopated rhythm - both legs on one side progressing forward at the same time. 

You quickly learned it was imperative to let your body sway along with the rockiness as it plodded along, tensing up only serving to add discomfort to an already strange motion. It took some getting used to, but once you got past the years of conditioning from riding horseback and into the hang of it you found it a rather enjoyable experience lumbering along over massive sand dunes.

The sweat beaded on your temples, dripping from your brow bone and skiing down the ridge of your nose. The sun scorched your skin and chapped your lips, tongue darting out to relieve the worst of it as you tried to be sparing with your water consumption.

The breaks were few and far between, but that was to be understood when you were voyaging through a dry, arid wasteland with an average temperature of over forty degrees celsius. You’d made the journey across the Mediterranean and Tyrrhenian Seas multiple times in your life, accustomed to the vastness of the blue rolling waters laid out as far as the eye can see. It was easy to see how civilizations believed the world was flat for millennia when there was nothing to break up the horizon.

You distinctly remembered your first crossing as a child. You’d ended up clutching onto your mother’s skirts in horror the first time you sailed away from the coast out into the English Channel. It was an unsettling trick of the eye; as if you were staring at the most beautiful painting of sky and sea… but if you got too close you’d sail straight through the canvas and off the edge of the world.

The same could almost be said of your current environment, sand seemingly endless no matter how far the camels trudged onward. The landscape was broken up only by the occasional rock formation, areas of packed earth along the flats where the brittle cracks spoke of how parched the ground was. 

There were no views to entertain the mind - just nothingness. Over nine million square kilometers of it.

The boys spoke at length the first day, the topics of conversation ranging from the recollections of their past to stories of their recent. Some of these were ones you’d already heard from your cousin that they were more than happy to revisit. The occasional argument broke out about the particulars of the events, one saying this while the other said that, the two of them squawking like ruffled geese that refused to secede territory to the other.

Kyle once looked back at you as if expecting your input to be a tiebreaker, something that genuinely made you laugh at the ridiculousness of it as you reminded him that at no point had you ever been to Cambrai nor did you understand the logistics of how to take apart and rebuild an SMLE.

So far as your own input to the discussions, you left most of that to the men to engage with you. It wasn’t as if you were being antisocial - hard to attempt with two chatterboxes for company - but you spent more time being an active listener than a willing participant. In truth, it was nice to turn your brain off for a bit and be swept away by the tales they’d spun of their times together. 

How many nights had you spent curled up in the parlor, legs tucked up under you with a glass of port in your hand while Kyle whiled away the midnight hours stirring your imagination of the many things he’d seen out there in the wide open world? His voice became a soothing balm on evenings where sleep eluded you, taking over for the comfort provided by your father after his untimely passing years prior. You would never object to a recital from him, certainly not now when it was aiding to take your mind off the harsh unimpeded sun battering down on your group.

What really surprised you was the amount you found yourself enjoying the rougher Scottish lilt of your other companion. There was a brashness in the way Johnny spoke compared to your cousin that could be borderline offensive to the ear at times, but it was oddly refreshing to hear the candidness of someone who hadn’t grown up afraid to blurt out the first thing that came to mind. And the man had charm for days that came so naturally to him you could brush off anything that left his lips with an exasperated but secretly fond sigh. 

Johnny tried numerous times to drag out your thoughts on certain matters pertaining to things you might have some knowledge or experience in, but more often than not you didn’t take the bait to start up a conversation, not even when the topics turned less ‘civilized’.

You weren’t a prude. Whilst you had no experience of your own to speak of, you were certainly educated by this point in time of the way life goes that certain subjects and suggestions didn’t rattle you the way it had in your youth upon first discovery. And swearing was a bad habit you picked up as well if the occasion called for it. 

So despite Johnny’s best attempts to shock you into giving him some sort of response he could work off of, you didn’t bat an eye at his crass language.

You ignored the way his eyes lost a bit of their luster every time you shrugged off his attempts, though he lost none of the determination to sway you otherwise. It wasn’t until Kyle took sympathy - on you or Johnny, you couldn’t say - and steered it back to other topics that Johnny relented and went back to their own merry prattle.

Part of you felt bad at your treatment towards Johnny, but there was still a small nagging in your gut that kept reminding you there was a dangerous man hiding behind that dazzling smile. 

Did you think he was going to do something untoward in the middle of the night to either you or Kyle? No. He’d proven as much the two times he’d saved you from a premature end. But it didn’t feel right to be fraternizing with someone who only a few days prior had been locked up in a Cairo prison for crimes that hadn’t even been addressed by him yet. 

Just because he was kind didn’t erase the fact that he was a felon.

Still, despite your reservations on the man, by the time you all stopped for the night and passed around rations for your supper, the animals grazing on nearby fauna as you settled down into your own spaces, you found yourself longing to get back on the camel if only for the simplicity of getting lost in his oddly enchanting brogue.

You couldn’t sleep. You’d been trying for the better part of an hour now, but at every turn the concept seemed to have eluded you. By all accounts you should’ve had a better time of it than the previous night, equipped as you were now for the next days travel through the desert; a colorful sleeping mat providing a protective layer between you and the hard rocky ground, your rolled up bag propped under your head for support, a weaved blanket warding the chill off your bones. Even the light of the smoldering campfire was helping to ease your nerves of being out in the middle of nowhere. But you were lacking the exhaustion of last night even with the added ache in your body from a full day’s ride on camelback.

You could practically feel your joints creak in protest as you sat up from your prone position, pulling your dress down over your legs as you brought your knees up to your chest to sit more comfortably. Wrapping the blanket around your shoulders, you took note of your cousin asleep on his own mat opposite the fire, flayed out on his back snoring quietly. Your other companion lounged back against his own bag, half upright with one leg sprawled out in front of him and the other knee bent. A book rested propped up on the latter, a pencil in his hand as he kept his attention on the pages in front of him. 

You watched him quietly for a few moments, lost in thought of nothing really tangible. Merely caught up in observing the way his writing instrument flowed across the paper.

“Have a curious habit fer starin’, don’tcha hen?”

It startles you out of your stupor, lifting your gaze to his face to find him still focused on whatever it is he’s working on. You made sure to keep your voice down so as not to rouse Kyle.

“I could spend my time counting the grains of sand if you’d prefer.” 

That garnered a small smirk to his face, something that warmed your insides even if he had yet to glance over at you. “If ye like. Not gonna judge a lass fer her choice in hobbies.”

“Says the man judging me for people watching.”

Johnny paused his writings as he considered your words, nodding his head in a way that suggests he knows when he’s been beaten. “Fair ‘nough.” He placed his pencil between the pages of his journal like a bookmark, closing it and setting it off to the side. It’s only then that he finally lifts his gaze to yours. Even in the shadow of the night, there’s a flame inside those eyes that has nothing to do with the one flickering in the middle of camp. “Gather yer havin’ a hard time sleepin’?”

“Legs are too sore to get comfortable,” you grumble out with a small grimace, fully aware of the throbbing on the inside of your thighs now that you were paying attention to it again. “Not used to having them spread that far apart for so long.”

It was only when Johnny suddenly and violently barked out a bout of laughter that you realized the unintended double meaning to your statement, ducking your head as your face began to heat in mortification. It also had you cringing at his volume, fully aware of the other member of your party slumbering nearby.

“Don't wake Kyle,” you scolded softly despite your embarrassment, glancing that way to make sure his sleep remained undisturbed.

“Not tae worry, hen. Man sleeps like a wee bairn if given the chance. Ye’d be surprised the things our ears are trained ta pick up on. If he needed tae be awake, only then would he be.”

He stated it so matter of factly that it gave you pause. It was weird hearing the person you grew up knowing talked about in that kind of light, one tinted with a red hue that made you ponder how much you really knew him nowadays. You’d seen the effect of war on the men who came home, deceived at first into thinking that your cousin had been spared the crippling memories when he first waltzed through your door looking as polished as always. Once the sheer joy at your cousin’s homecoming softened, it was then you realized there were shadows lurking behind those big brown eyes you’d never seen before. 

But what if what happened to him wasn't the only reason for his changes? Maybe it was more than trauma that turned the gorgeous smile into something with a subtle bite. 

Taking a look at his relaxed sleeping form, you weren't sure how many molecules were left of the boy who once yanked your pigtails, broken down and remade into something maybe not befitting this kinder world anymore.

“Sometimes I feel like a different man came home to me,” you confided softly, Johnny quiet and still as he allowed you your space to vent. “I know it’s not fair of me to have expected him to return untouched by battle when I’ve seen so many others shaken to their very core at experiences they still won’t give words to. But it’s like there’s a whisper of a thing prowling beneath his skin that occasionally slithers out to take many forms. Sometimes it’s sadness and grief swimming at the bottom of a bottle. Other times its words sharp as knives spat out and guarded behind bruised knuckles. I’ll look at my cousin and not know if I’m talking to the man I left behind or the creature that remains.”

It was a hard thing to admit out loud - this weight you carried with you. Even odder still was the fact that you were sharing your innermost thoughts with a man you’d had the scantest of conversation with prior to this. What was it about him that made words spill unbidden from your lips that you’d hardly acknowledged yourself?

“Ah’ll not try tae explain the complexities of war tae ye, hen, but when ya send a man tae greet his God there’s a sliver of yer soul that goes with ‘em.” 

You’re instantly drawn back to him as he speaks, expecting to see him burning a hole right through you with the intense truth behind his words, but finding him engrossed back in whatever project he’d taken up in his book. It’s almost like there’s something in his eyes he doesn’t want you to see, revealing it to the pages instead. You’re being spared from something that you have no clue what it is. 

“Garrick is a fierce fighter, one ah’m glad tae have mah back in any sort of danger ye can fathom. Comparatively, he’s also one o’ the most easy goin’ blokes ah’ve had the pleasure ta serve with. Has a good head on his shoulders, that one. The lad can ease even the most ruffled o’ feathers and leave ye wit’ the biggest grin tae grace yer face in ages. Ah owe him fer more than jus’ the skin off mah back.”

You knew exactly what he meant. After the death of your parents, Kyle had been instrumental in keeping all the broken pieces of your heart from fracturing even further. Curious to think the man who was currently heaping praise on your cousin was also the same man Kyle wrote home about in such high regard.

“From what I’ve gathered, you seem to have a certain gift for doing that yourself.” 

The small smirk that appeared on his face seemed to have cleared away whatever cobwebs he’d collected on his soul, eyes full of mirth as he looked to lighter subjects - and you. “Warmed up tae me now, ‘ave ye lass?”

“Didn’t need warming up when we were never chilly in the first place.”

“Not from where ah’ve been standin’.”

“That’s not true. I–” The look he gave you sunk deep into your bones and spoke volumes, having the decency to avert your gaze as he pried out the truth from your attempted denial. “You didn’t exactly make the best first impression is all…”

Glancing up at his heavy sigh, you watched him rake his fingers through the long strands of his mohawk for a few moments as he collected his thoughts into words. “Cannae fault ye fer that. Must’ve appeared like a right scoundrel tae ya. Dinnae mean tae upset ye so badly, hen. Ah’dve much rathered our first meetin’ have happened someplace more befittin’ a warmer introduction.” 

You figured it was as good a time as any to inquire as to the particulars of his incarceration, having learned nothing from your cousin about the subject when pestered. Part of you couldn’t deny being nervous as to his answer - if he would even give you one. 

You kept your voice soft as you implored him for some reason not to think the worst of him. “What happened, Johnny…? What put you in there?”

“Defendin’ a lass’s honor.” 

His unexpected response gave you pause, finding yourself sitting up a little bit straighter at the seriousness in his tone. Given his nature, you weren’t so much surprised to find a brawl landed him behind bars. It was the noble reasoning to his actions that had you reevaluating your views on the man.

“Stumbled out o’ the gin joint one night after comin’ back from a job. Happened upon a bloke overpowerin’ a poor thing on mah way out the door. Gave the fucker the privilege o’ findin’ out wha’ happens when the tables turn and yer not the one wit’ the power anymore.” He held his head up higher as he went on. “Two broken ribs, shattered patella, fractured jaw, dislocated shoulder, black eye, punctured lung, and a feedin’ tube. Copper said it was assault. I said it was re-learnin’ manners.” 

His eyes held no trace of deceit, but there was undeniable pride in himself at what he’d done. Not a single ounce of remorse shined through - just pure sated venom. He might have named himself a predator, but Johnny wasn’t a mere coyote out to stalk the wandering herd of sheep for stragglers.

He was the livestock guardian dog who came back home with a reddened maw and chunks of flesh between his teeth.

It curled something within you as you took him in, the weight of past grievances off your chest that had kept you from truly acknowledging his character. He may have been a little rougher around the edges compared to the gentlemen you normally kept company with, but how many times had those knobby knuckles been split wide on the face of a man who deserved it?

“Gonna make ye think a lil’ better of me now, lass?”

You considered him for a moment. “I think I’m finally getting a clearer picture of the man Kyle always claimed you to be.”

There was something akin to subtle relief in the look Johnny gave you, the way his shoulders minutely untensed in previous preparation for a different verdict. You didn't think your opinion of him would have mattered so much, though you supposed most people didn't want to be viewed negatively by your peers.

You didn't try to dig into a further reasoning beyond that.

“You know, he would prattle on about you all the time.” It was easier for you to stare into the fire as you spoke of your cousin’s ramblings, feeling odd recounting such things to his actual person. “He’d write me letters almost every day if he could. Said it was for my own peace of mind to let me know he was still breathing, but I think he was also reassuring himself of that notion as well. He often wanted to chat about home, a distraction from everything and a way to dodge the questions I fielded him concerning his own life. But he also spoke of his adventures out in the real world. Heard about the mischief you lot entangled yourselves in all the time.”

There was a fondness to your smile as you recalled certain tales of misbehavior, numerous as they were. “I know he must’ve sugar coated things for my benefit more often than not, but what he did share with me…” You shook your head in mild exasperation. “How the two of you survived with only a single brain cell between you I’ll never know.”

“Ah’m an upstandin’ citizen, hen.” There was a twinkle in those sapphire hues as he spread his arms wide in playful boastfulness. “Couldnae find a scrap of funny business in me if ye tried.”

The chuckle in his voice was infectious, a giggle bubbling up from your throat making its way past your lips and into your speech. “Oh really?” You challenged, “Then what say you about the incident involving the Mark IV and that bottle of Macallan?”

Johnny scoffed. “Rust bucket was highly volatile after sufferin’ heavy damage durin’ a previous skirmish. Minor malfunction in the tank’s firin’ mechanism led to a unexpected implosion.” 

“Interesting way of saying you dropped a stick of dynamite in a freshly downed bottle of single malt whisky and left it in the center console to go boom.”

He didn’t even have the decency to look ashamed through that cheeky smirk. It was a good look on him. “Lad’s gotta find a way tae keep morale up in the troops, hen. What’s a harmless bit o’ merrymakin’ between comrades if it means givin’ us a well earned respite from combat?”

“And that time you and Kyle snuck into a German occupied hotel in Brussels to avoid sleeping out in that deluge?” You’d had some choice words for your cousin in that fervently written reply.

“Simple reconnaissance mission.” 

“Mmhmm.” Wow. The audacity to say that with a straight face…

“Ye know, yer not the only one familiar with the other, hen.” It was a change of subject mainly to get the heat back off of him, but it did its intended purpose as your interest was piqued. “Couldnae stop hearin’ Kyle bletherin’ on about his precious dolly back home. Made the lads jealous fer havin’ such a pretty bird, even if ye were related.”

You squirmed in your seat, tucking a loose strand of hair behind your ear that you proceeded to twirl around your finger as a minor distraction. It made you strangely uncomfortable to hear yourself be spoken of like that - not at the fact Kyle shared things about you with the others. Moreso the way he did. “I’m afraid my cousin has probably put me on too high of a pedestal then. I’m far less interesting than he would have undoubtedly led you all to believe.”

That must not have been the response Johnny was expecting from you. There was genuine puzzlement as he glanced you up and down, almost checking to see if he was addressing the right woman. “Didnae think one such as yerself was never taught how tae take a compliment, hen. Yer much more than ye seem to realize.”

To be fair, up until now you were confident you knew how to take one as well. It was part of being out in society; knowing how to dole out false modesty at praises while simpering behind a fan as fancied lords did their best peacock impressions in an effort to win your favor. You’d never been overflowing with suitors in your youth, but you’d eagerly smiled and blushed while returning their flattering remarks. 

‘How accomplished you are at dancing, my lady.’ ‘What remarkable needlework you’ve created!’ ‘Your skin is positively radiant. What cosmetics do you use?’

This felt different though. It was easy to impress people whose whole livelihood was dedicated to the art of faking being impressed. Amongst the people who did something that actually mattered, all those years spent mastering the arts of elocution and poise were paltry in comparison. What good does perfecting a chain stitch or curtsey do in the real world?

“I was brought up to be the very model of a well bred enchanting heiress; hardly a lifestyle made for excitement or spontaneity. Of course there were my studies in Egyptology that were all self taught, but even there I'm much more a phantom floating through the halls of the Cairo museum in search of new knowledge than someone of actual importance to the place. I’ve never been one for real adventures. Ask Kyle. He was always the one dragging me out on some silly thing or another.” Much to the displeasure of your parents.

“Only ‘cause he wanted tae give ye the things ye always dreamed of but never let yerself ‘ave.”

That caught you off guard - not to mention it didn't make much sense in the first place considering how many times you’d objected to Kyle’s ventures before you predictably gave in to his fervent harassing.

Your silence gave Johnny the chance to elaborate at your quizzical expression.

“Look… yer a proper lady, hen, and there's nothing wrong wit’ embracing that part of ye. Ye should never feel ashamed of yer sex or how ye were raised fer a world much different than most. But ye would think up such grand ideas knowin’ full well ye’d never get the chance tae experience them yerself and it broke the poor lad’s heart. Ye were a willin’ participant to a way of livin’ that kept ye from actually livin’. Garrick just had the guts and half a brain tae put action ta yer silly imaginin’s, even if ye dinnae realize he was doin’ it at the time.” Johnny shifted his posture to get more comfortable, intertwining his fingers and resting them on his abdomen. “So far as ah'm aware, ye were the mastermind behind all yer youthful endeavors.”

That wasn't true. I mean, there was no denying that Kyle had taken up a massive part in a lot of your formative years, playing pretend and going along with the stories you crafted in your mind. The pair of you were thick as thieves whenever one of your families made the long trip to visit each other. It was easy to admire the way he moved through the world so effortlessly, a perfect blend of casual arrogance and easygoing confidence. He was everything a well brought up man should be, only with a mischievous streak that often got you in trouble by association. 

It was a well known fact that you were the innocent one in all his schemings.

There was that time he… 

Or maybe when…

…but what about…

Suddenly you were sat there staring blankly at your lap, mentally combing through memories of your childhood trying to justify all the times you and your cousin wandered off only to be scolded at the end for something he roped you into participating in. However, each time you peered closer at the unfolding events of the day, you were finding it harder to argue that you’d been as passive as you'd always believed.

You’d constantly been praised growing up by the adults for being a sweet, demure, amiable good girl. Kyle was the one who was the delinquent of your duo… wasn’t he?

Sensing your confusion, Johnny offered up an example to help your brain along. ”How’s about when Garrick put ye up on the handlebars o’ his bicycle and ye nearly crashed into a carriage on yer way down the hill? Wouldnae ‘ave happened if ye hadn’t opened yer mouth minutes earlier and asked how fast the bloody thing could go.”

The temptation to go over and kick your cousin awake just so he could tell Johnny otherwise was strong, but he kept talking before you had the chance to move from your bedroll. “Then there was the time ya snuck into yer da's study tae steal a cigar because ye were upset when he denied yer request tae try a puff. Said it wasnae proper for ladies ta partake.” 

You recalled that night quickly, Kyle fiddling with a small set of tools in his hand that he procured from god knows where to unlock the top drawer of your father's desk and steal one of his finest from his collection. It had ended up being a ghastly affair, choking down smoke as your cousin laughed at your inability to handle it the way he could.

You'd been fifteen at the time and hadn't touched one since. 

But that had been on a dare, hadn’t it?

You scrambled for something to latch onto as the uncomfortable truth of your once accurate beliefs stared you in the face, hidden pieces of your spirit put on display. There must be something–

The garden wall.

When your cousin conned you into climbing it with him and you scratched up your legs on the thorny rose bush at the bottom. You would’ve been four at the time to his six. Mother had been so cross as she tended to your bleeding cuts while Kyle’s father gave him a stern reprimand in the other room. That had been the first day you’d met and set the tone for the rest of your lives.

The incident that started it all.

Voice nearly teetering on hysterics, you held tight to your victory as proof of your innocence. “He was–” For a moment you forgot the subject in question was still dozing ten feet across from you, lowering your voice down to a harsh whisper. “He was the one who wanted to go over the garden wall!”

“Because ye complained the wall stole yer sunset and ye wanted it back!” His stare held no room for argument - no escape to try to back away from.

And just like that, the shimmering veil draped over your remembrance fell away as a long buried part of that day came to the surface. 

An afternoon spent outside playing in the grass, darting between trees and through rows of flowerbeds, your cousin at your heels. Your mother fussing over the dirt on your hem while your aunt placated her with a chuckled ‘let them be children’. The disappointment of the darkening sky signaling the end of your visitation.

‘But I wanna keep playing!’ You pouted with a quivering lower lip and watery eyes, not quite ready to leave your new friend and return home. ‘Stupid wall. Why’d it have to take away the sun…?’

A readied hand reaching down for yours. ‘Then let’s go get it back.’

Oh.

Johnny watched the emotions change on your face, letting you stew in them as long held perceptions suddenly gained a new clarity. It was quiet after that, the only sounds to be made were the camels' occasional gruntings in their sleep and the soft crackling of dry wood burning away in the campfire. It seemed you had a lot of things in your past to come to terms with.

“How come I don’t remember it that way?” There was a tinge of frustration at how faulty your memory apparently was, but it was more out of sadness than fury.

He shrugged, though not without a look of sympathy. “Ye were young. And Garrick didnae want ya tae feel like ye weren't bein’ a dutiful daughter. So he gave ye the push and took the fall himself. But ye cannae look me in the eye and tell me the bumps and bruises hadnae been worth it fer all the smiles it gave ya.”

You didn't quite know how to process all that; the fact that a complete stranger had more insight into your life than you who actually lived it. Your voice soft, “He told you all that?”

“Aye, he did. Feels like there's not much I dunnae already ken about ye, hen.” Johnny reached down to where he’d discarded his book from earlier, opening it up to the bookmarked page before inspecting his writing utensil with a frown, apparently finding it wanting.

You scoffed at his words even as part of you started to believe him, hard not to with the evidence he laid at your feet. But even the gesture itself was more of a soft exhale than something mean. ”I hardly think it counts when all the stories you’ve heard are just ones parroted about Kyle that I happened to be involved in.”

“There’s a field beyond Garrick’s property in Kent where he’d always find ye in the summer playin’ amongst the Meadowsweet as a wee lass. Ye liked to weave it into yer hair and pretend ye were the Lady Guinevere waitin’ fer her Lancelot.”

The look of utter surprise on your face must’ve been a sight to see, but Johnny wasn’t paying you any mind, taking a small blade from his boot to the blunted tip of his pencil as he started unravelling the particulars of your life. There was a fondness in the crinkle of his eyes as if it was a beloved memory of his own rather than one of yours. 

Why were these the kinds of stories Kyle told him about you and why did Johnny find them to be worth enough to remember them?

He continued while he sharpened. “Ye once spilled cherry juice all over yer new spring frock after sneakin’ intae the pantry fer a bite ta eat before a picnic wit’ some o’ yer parents friends. Ye were such a sensitive bairn that yer da’ had only ta look at ye wrong fer ye ta turn tae tears and beg forgiveness. Ye’ve avoided the fruit ever since, but yer a right fiend fer strawberries.”

”The Early Dynastic and their burgeonin’ household religious practices are amongst yer favorite aspects of ancient history, but ye froth at the mouth o’er anythin’ concernin’ the mysteries o’ the First Intermediate that were lost tae time and pillagin’.” 

”Yer allergic tae cats, but ye pet ‘em anyways. Got grounded fer a week after yer ma’ discovered ye’d made a shrine tae the god Bes in yer wardrobe and were prayin’ tae that every night instead. Yer decent at piano, but where ye really took a shine was in yer drawings. Seen some of the work ya tucked away in the pages of Garrick’s letters.” Johnny finally glanced up from his whittling at that mention, a glint of something in his eyes at your stunned expression. “‘Ave tae say, lass, ye can color me a might bit impressed.” 

He was starting to scare you with the knowledge he possessed, but not in a way that gave you any true fright. Quite the opposite in fact. The butterflies had never been quite so prevalent in your stomach.

“Yer inexperience twists ya tae be a bit unsure of yerself even when ye ‘ave the skills tae get by jus’ fine. It takes ye a minute, but when ye finally find yer voice Lord help the poor lad who finds himself swiftly charmed outta hearth and home. Got a dangerous pair o’ eyes and a honey sweet tongue, ye do.”

With every fact he spewed, it seemed like the entire point of this conversation for the past few minutes was to pick you apart thread by thread until you felt more bare than you had when you were sopping wet in a translucent nightgown for anyone's eyes to feast upon. 

“Ye convinced yet, hen?” The teasing glint in his eyes should’ve been outlawed.

“You sure know an awful lot about my life for someone who’s never been a part of it,” came your response, wrapping the blanket around your form tighter as if to ward off his deeper inspections into your world.

Johnny chuckled at that, pencil finally returning to paper as he went about with whatever it was prior that your presence had interrupted. “Cannae help it if talks o’ sweet lassies back home were a welcome distraction from moldy rations and the bitter chill on harsh winter nights. Blokes in the trenches fought fer the raunchy pinups back home and the honor o’ makin’ wives outta the young nurses who cared fer their wounds. But me and Garrick knew who we were fightin’ for.”

“Not even your own family?” You meant your words to be more ribbing, something to take the weight off your chest after all the focus being on you. 

But he didn’t reciprocate the tone.

“Nah, hen. Twas yer smile ah was protectin’ each time ah fired mah rifle.”

You thought he’d shocked you enough with his bluntness to last you a lifetime, but you couldn’t have been more wrong as he flipped through to the back of his book, pulling something out that had been wedged in the creases and flipping it to face towards you.

It was old and worn at the edges, smudges of dirt and water damage evident in the way it crinkled. But there was no mistaking the face staring back at you on the small grainy black and white pocket sized polaroid. 

You remembered when it was taken, the camera a recent purchase of Kyle’s on a holiday in Marsa Matrouh. You’d traveled there with your families on one of your cousin’s leaves, giving him something to help take his mind off of the horrors he’d witnessed and remember the peace he was fighting for.

You’d been out in the sun all day, basking on the rocks along the shoreline as the Mediterranean waters lapped at your heels. Your hair was still damp and stringy, coarse with salt as it shifted in the summer breeze. Kyle had been taking pictures all day, but this was the first time he’d pulled out his camera since you all went swimming, dressed in your newest swimwear all the way from New York with an exposed neckline and a mid-thigh length skirt. It had taken some adjustment on your part getting used to being so revealed, but after your mother ordered it from a magazine and you put it on for the first time you couldn’t help but feel lovely in the garment.

Kyle had caught you off guard when he snapped it, a wild carefree smile on your face as you turned to face him when he called your name. What the camera didn’t show was the ensuing chaos that took place immediately afterwards as you ran after him for having taken that without your consent, the pair of you sprinting along the shoreline in good fun until he suddenly halted to avoid stepping on a crab, causing you to run smack into him and bowling the two of you over with uncontained laughter.

You knew he’d developed the film before he left, but never what ended up happening to the snapshot. It could’ve been placed in a box in the attic for all you were aware. Who’d have thought you’d come across it almost ten years later in the ownership of someone like Johnny, tucked away in the pages of a book for safe keeping.

“That’s who ah was endeared to. The soft-hearted lass wit’ more courage than she realized.”

Intense was the only way to describe him. 

There was a weight to his stare that bordered on indecent. You were mostly covered from view by the blanket draped over your form, but it wasn’t your gown he was undressing with his eyes. 

It was your soul - cracked open and exposed to feast upon like a vulture. 

Ravenous in his hunger, there wasn’t a meaty morsel that went untouched. Johnny’s eyes were the most expressive you’d had the pleasure to get lost inside, dark cerulean orbs that swept in like a rogue wave and dragged you helplessly beneath the surface gasping for air. It was his one weakness; his one tell. You could learn everything you needed to know about him if you were only capable enough to figure it out. It was an experience unlike anything you’d ever encountered - and, gods, it was just a look.

If this revelation about the picture had come about yesterday instead, you had no doubt you would have promptly demanded he return the precious item to your charge. Now, it only did things to your insides thinking of how many times your visage might have kept him company on lonely nights.

As he tucked the picture back inside his book and flipped to his previous pages, he turned the conversation towards something related but a welcome change of subject. “Speakin’ o’ honey, exactly how did ye get me outta jail, lass? Ye never did say.”

Oh god. Of all the topics he could’ve picked. Johnny really enjoyed seeing you squirm thinking about how ‘bad’ your behavior had been lately, didn't he?

”My father owned his own shipping company that dealt with the transport of goods and wares, ancient artifacts included. Or, at least, he did… up until his passing. It’s now run by one of his old business partners, but his name is still included in the title.” Thank god for that or else your plan would’ve never worked. “I convinced the prison warden that you were a treasure hunter of world renown and that I had been sent there with my colleague on behalf of the CEO to allow your release - in exchange for a handsome sum upfront that would be paid again once you’d retrieved a very precious ceremonial headdress that was stolen from one of the shipments earlier that week.”

He cocked a brow at your explanation, the gears turning as he followed along with your simplification of the encounter. “And he jus’ believed ya? Without proof nor payment?”

The smug look you gave him felt very satisfying indeed. “I told him I’d lost the official documents stating such when my purse had been stolen by a local street rat on our way there. Even included waterworks for added discomfort.” 

In your experience, men didn’t know what to do with a crying woman. Most just wanted to shut you up or make you go away as soon as possible.

Mother would’ve been proud of your acting skills. 

You could see Johnny putting the pieces together in his mind, even if he was skeptical at the loose threads you left hanging. “How did ya manage tae get yer hands on official lookin’ documents?”

Weirdly enough, that had been the easiest part of the whole ruse once you’d gotten the language right.

“I never cleared out my father's study after he passed. All the important papers he’d kept on his desk were removed, but the drawers are still full of blank pages of letterhead - as was his personal seal he used. So long as the warden doesn’t look too closely into the present day chain of command at the company, he’ll never have any reason to suspect he’s been made a fool of.” 

That earned a barked laugh that filled you with joy, his gaze tilted back to the sky as he shook his head at the heavens. “Fuckin’ hell, lass. Yer a right clever one, ye are. Why ye might jus’ be the most dangerous one ‘ere.”

“Wait a mo’.” He interrupted his own amusement once he realized you’d left out an important part of this whole operation. “Ye didnae take the funds fer mah freedom from the company too, did ye lass?”

There was a pregnant pause where you debated about lying, but you weren’t sure you could last under his careful scrutiny. “...I may have reached into my own coffers to front up the payments.” 

Six hundred pounds sterling. Well, technically thirty six thousand Egyptian would be more accurate since that’s what was agreed upon. But he didn’t need to know just how much his pardon had cost you. Granted at the time you weren't exactly thrilled to be forking over such a large amount for a ruffian, but you’d considered the investment and decided it was well worth parting with a few coins.

Johnny could have rivaled your father with how much he masterfully emulated that reproachful countenance that only someone who’d been half responsible for your existence could have managed. You’d been on the wrong end of that look enough times to know there was a lecture coming on you’d rather not have. “Hen–”

“Sooo, Mr. MacTavish,” you smoothly interrupted with a smile of perfectly faked innocence, “when you’re not incarcerated for bashing in the skulls of brigands and ne’er do wells, what have you been up to since leaving the service?”

He held your gaze for a few moments longer, immune to your batted eyelashes until he looked away with a huffed out sigh, relenting as he must’ve come to the conclusion that it wasn’t worth the oxygen.

“Ye weren’t too far from the truth when ye told the warden ah was a treasure hunter. Sometimes ah spend mah days scroungin’ through desolate areas in search of valuable commodities, others ah sell myself out fer hire doin’ mercenary work. Not the most excitin’ occupation dependin’ on the job, but it pays good coin.”

“Hard to believe you didn’t stick around with the military.” Kyle had mentioned that by the time he’d retired that Johnny still hadn’t, but that was years ago now.

“Well ah stayed wit’ it far past mah initial recruitment contract. Only been out a wee bit longer than two years this October. Earned myself quite a bit o’ chest candy fer mah troubles.” Considering he’d joined up the same time Kyle did, that meant almost ten years fighting in His Majesty’s army. “In truth, ah didnae mind the bloodshed; ah was the best at what ah did and took pride in mah ability ta complete the missions too dangerous fer others tae endure. But when the people I was loyal tae stopped bein’ loyal ta me...”

The clench of his jaw, the ice in his veins bleeding into the blue of his eyes; you could only guess what happened to make a decorated war hero and career soldier jump ship.

Glancing down at his hand, you could see the way it white knuckled around the fragile pencil, almost anticipating a snap that you were surprised somehow never came. Even when he was blistering from whatever wrongdoings the bigwigs at the top had done to cause offense, he was still aware of and in control of his own strength.

“That’s how ah ken the city is real, lass.” He spoke up shortly after. “Because mah commandin’ officers sent me there tae die wit’ the rest of mah squadron over pipe dreams o’ golden halls and buried treasure. But when we got there… all we found was sand and blood.”

There's a stillness as the words settle in your bones, a warning of events yet to come. But thankfully it doesn't last as he blinks away the shadows of bygone times, half turning around to fiddle with the bag he’d been using to rest his back against.

“That reminds me,” Johnny perks up as he rummages around in one of the pockets of his rucksack, his previous frosty disposition left in the past and giving you a case of emotional whiplash. 

“Found this,” you barely managed to catch the small object he sent flying your way, fumbling it before securing it in your grasp, “amongst my stuff. Garrick must've pinched it for ya before jumpin’ overboard.”

Your attention turned to the thing clasped in your hold, letting out a jubilant shriek of delight that rustled your cousin but who otherwise remained at rest. Turning it over in your hands, you couldn’t believe you were somehow reunited with the ancient metal box that you were sure you’d lost to the river. You practically sobbed in relief as you hugged it to your chest as if it were a beloved stuffed animal, completely ignoring the amused (slightly judgemental) regard coming from your travel companion.

“Now Dr. Price doesn’t have to carve out my entrails and feed them to the Nile!” You cheered with bright eyes and an elated smile, making quick work stuffing the box in with your other belongings. For a moment it appeared like Johnny was wanting to question just what exactly you meant by that proclamation, but thought better of it as he returned to his scribblings, merely shaking his head with something muttered under his breath.

“Best ye try tae get back ta sleep, hen. I ken we’re not doin’ much, but the desert has a way o’ sappin’ yer energy and ye’ll be comfier noddin’ off ‘ere than on the back o’ a camel.”

That you didn’t doubt, practically feeling the crick in your neck already at the image that conjured up.

“Alright, be that way.” You rolled your eyes with a teasing huff. ”I know a dismissal when I’ve heard one...”

Johnny gave you one more glance with a quirked lip at your cheekiness, something soft around the edges hidden within his sight. “G’night, hen...”

Giving him another smile, you situated yourself back on your sleeping mat so as to be laying on your right side facing the fire. The glow wasn’t too harsh on your eyes, and truthfully it also gave you the excuse to glance over at your companion every once in a while. You knew he had one ear open while he worked, keenly aware of his surroundings as he kept guard over your small group. If the previous night was anything to go by, he’d be waking up Kyle in a few hours to take over sentinel duty so that he could get some rest as well. 

Hearing the charcoal gently scrape across the parchment as he engrossed himself in whatever his project was, your eyelids grew heavy as you allowed the ambiance of his scribblings to lull you into the pleasant hum of unconsciousness.

The next morning brought with it a change of atmosphere within the group.

Where formerly you had only actively engaged with your cousin over breakfast, that was no longer the case, giving Johnny a small tentative smile as if you were still unsure that last night's interaction had properly smoothed out the wrinkles between the pair of you. Your fears were abated when he returned it enthusiastically, tossing you a wink for good measure that had you feeling giddy at the playful gesture.

Unaware of your previous heart to heart, Kyle glanced between the two of you in befuddlement to a question that went unanswered. You merely greeted your cousin with a peck on the cheek and a lasting hug you didn’t care to explain, remembering Johnny’s words only hours ago at just how much he’d been caring for you to a degree beyond what you’d ever realized.

Falling into step with Johnny felt just as innate as it was with Kyle, years of getting to know one another condensed into a single conversation. 

Admittedly it had thrown you off to hear him speak so candidly about your history the night before. It was odd listening to him recite the stories better than you remembered them, the unfiltered truth about your personality that you’d never suspected. But you ultimately ended up not minding his thorough knowledge of your life (god knows what else your cousin told him that he didn’t mention). If your youthful recollections granted him with any small measure of escape from the dark claustrophobic trenches day in and day out then you were honored it had been your picture that had provided him with a little comforting light.

Touching was something you were still adjusting to though; the small casual hand on your lower back as Johnny scooted around you to tend to the camels. A lot of that had to do with the fact that it only made it harder to tamper down the slightly inappropriate thoughts that began to spring up as of late. It was easier to be physically attracted to a man you disliked. There wasn’t any risk of actually falling for him because you knew in the end that he was too much of a prick for there to be any real connection. A handsome face was all he’d ever be and that had been reassuring.

Which made it a bit unfair that he’d ended up being a really. great. guy. 

Did he have a bit of a temper? Sure. But so far you’d only heard of it being directed towards people who deserved it. How could you be upset that he’d put a man in the hospital for trying to hurt an innocent woman? You didn’t gravitate towards violence, but you certainly were familiar with it when your cousin would come home with a disheveled appearance and bloody knuckles. 

Looks, charisma, hard working, intelligent, dedicated. They might as well have wrapped him in a bow and placed him on your doorstep on Christmas Eve. If you would’ve had any female companions to gossip with on this pilgrimage then one John MacTavish would have been the only topic of any interest.

Still, you did your best not to pay any heed to the swirling vortex of bad decisions clouding your brain. You weren’t some cheap harlot falling at the feet of any ol’ fella who was hungry enough to rake his eyes over you. This wasn’t a tropical vacation; this was work. Dangerous, harrowing work. And Johnny was both your guide and your cousin's best friend. Not to mention you were familiar with his type from hours being paraded in front of society's elite. 

You’d attended balls and soirees full of the opposite sex all hunting for a prize to bring home and breed to carry on their legacies. A few well placed compliments and they’d be racing you down the aisle of holy matrimony. 

Johnny was certainly just another heartbreaker through and through - a game you would not let yourself be swept up in no matter how tempting the reward.

It was easier to be distracted from your thoughts once you involved yourself in the discussions taking place amongst the group, far more interested in joining in now that your reservations had been proven false. It was all easy smiles and shared laughter as you slowly began to grow endeared to the Scot the more he carried on. 

You were delighted to discover he had two younger sisters and a large extended family that he was exceptionally close with. He didn’t speak of his siblings with complaint either, only true fondness as he recounted how much he’d looked after them as the protective older brother. Johnny’s smile turned melancholic as he confessed to how much he missed them, but it softened up when he brought up the extensive collection of postcards he was constantly sending back home. He couldn’t always receive letters when his life continuously had him on the go, but with that at least he could still feel connected to his family even if they were thousands of miles away.

Johnny happily regaled you with tales of his old life back in Scotland as a ‘wee lad’. Helping out around his grandfather’s farm during the summers. His favorite home cooked meals. The local ceilidh’s with lively music and lovely lasses. An incident with law enforcement he was sworn to secrecy on for another eight years.

Each new revelation had you drawn ever more into his orbit, interested in the minute details of his life as opposed to the grand schemes he’d fall into with Kyle. They might have been mundane in comparison, but in your opinion they were vastly more important. Anyone could be an adrenaline junkie with a death wish and ambitions, but who they were in the slower quieter parts of life was more telling of their true nature. 

Of course it wasn’t all just pleasant strolls down memory lane. One can always trust that boys will be boys after all. To break up the long stretches of conversation, the pair of them took to engaging in a friendly competition to see who had the worst jokes imaginable. Apparently this had become a favored pastime back in Verdun amongst the soldiers.

 Each attempt had you burying your face in your hands. If you didn’t want to have to go back and fetch it afterwards you would be throwing things at their heads by now. 

So it came as no surprise when at some point a crude joke was told by your cousin comparing a woman to a camel. Honestly you were more shocked it had taken this long.

“How can you tell the difference between a woman’s mouth and a camel’s?” The accompanying groan was actually not from you this time.

“Come now, Garrick. No desert puns. I thought we’d agreed that–”

“Only one of them swallows.”

Two dumbstruck heads immediately whipped in your direction, faces aghast as the illusion of chasteness melted away from their preconceived notions of their female companion. The shock was short lived however as the three of you fell into the most uncontrollable fit of laughter, howling and convulsing atop your mounts.

Kyle looked like he was trying to claw the mental image your words conjured up from his brain. “Bloody hell, dolly! I didn’t need to hear that from my cousin!”

“A lady indeed!” Came Johnny's reply, both of them struggling for air as you unexpectedly proved to them there was more to you than appearances would suggest. 

You caught Johnny’s gaze as you wiped the tears from your eyes, a glimmer of approval in those sparkling sapphires that threatened to take your breath away all over again. Above all you had been rewarded with his unbridled joy and infectious laughter.

It was a sound you were quickly falling in love with. 

Partway through the day, you had the unfortunate luck of finding yourselves headed towards a massive wall of brown in the distance, towering over the landscape like a rogue wave. One glance at your guide told you everything you needed to know in the stern set of his brows and hard neutral expression.

You were delving right into the heart of it.

You weren’t a stranger to sand storms, but you couldn’t say you had the pleasure of experiencing one out in an area that had no hope of shelter in which to ride it out. Your steed must have sensed the unease that gripped your emotions, starting to shuffle underneath you in distress that had a shocked gasp leave your mouth at the abruptness of his jostling. Kyle was quick to grasp your reins, making calm soothing sounds to the animal as you ran a hand along its neck with a soft ‘settle’.

When the words were finally spoken aloud that there was indeed no avoiding it, you pulled the dark piece of cloth out of one of your travel bags that the older Bedouin woman from the village had given you in case of such an event. Your hands made deft work of wrapping it around your head, securing it in the way you’d been shown to conceal most of your face. The other two did much the same, waiting for you all to finish getting settled before glancing over with a firm nod as you ushered the beasts forward towards the imposing storm in the distance.

You’d onced asked your father as you listened to one raging outside and rattling the shutters on your home just how strong he thought the winds were, wide eyed as he explained they could move as fast as a train could ride. You felt every bit of that power now.

As much as you mentally braced yourself for the experience, the physicality of the storm was quick to erode your steeled nerves. Gale force winds whipped and battered your body, your knuckles white and painful from where you gripped the pommel of the saddle to keep from falling off your steed. The miniscule grains of sand stung the small uncovered portion of your face, abrasive and irritating to the skin as you tried your best to shield your vision. 

It was as unpleasant as you predicted, trusting your camel to follow along after Johnny’s when it became too much to keep your eyes open. The beasts were more than capable of braving it, blazing through unencumbered by the shifting sands even if only at a slightly slower pace. Your care was in their charge now.

You hadn’t put much faith in the gods of old, but in that moment you found yourself praying to Seth that he would calm his fury and let his storm pass swiftly. Not like it could hurt if you were wrong…

You jerked in your saddle as partway through a firm hand grasped at the meat of your bicep, head flying up to see your cousin peering at you through his own face coverings as he pointed off to the side, barely able to make out something in the distance that he led your camel away towards. Johnny was already dismounting from his own, crowding behind what you realized was a grouping of sandstone pillars that you’d never been more grateful to see. 

Kyle helped you off your camel, Johnny already holding up a blanket and ushering you under as they each grasped an end, throwing it over the three of you huddled together and holding tight to keep it from being swept away into the desert. You all were winded from the exertion, Kyle mumbling something about needing a bloody break as you sat squished in between them, leaned back against the rock as you untensed. There was no way of telling how long the storm lasted or how far you’d trekked, but your limbs were sore and stiff from remaining clenched throughout the endeavor. 

Thankfully Johnny had better insight than you did, motioning at the waterskin he’d fetched ahead of time that you plucked off his person. Uncapping it, you didn’t think twice before bringing the opening to his lips, watching as he tilted his head back to allow the cool liquid inside to flow down his parched throat, doing the same to Kyle shortly after. You might not have been able to help hold down the fort so to speak, but you could certainly take care of them while they protected you. 

You didn't know how long you remained like that, sharing the waterskin between you three and ignoring the mildly darkened look in Johnny’s eyes every time you accidentally made eye contact while helping him drink, leaving your stomach feeling warmed. How a man could be so intense even in a situation such as this was beyond your understanding.

Nature finally took pity on you later on in the day nearing sunset, feeling the gusts lessen enough to at last push the covering off which had become weighed down by the sand that accumulated during that time. The camels looked just as unbothered as you left them, laying down nearby as you all finally got to stand at full height for the first time in what felt like ages. 

There was brief talk about what to do next as Johnny corrected your course, having veered only slightly off the intended path. The sandstorm had caused you to be vastly behind, adding an extra day onto your travels that you couldn’t afford to waste. Thankfully - as Kyle pointed out - your transport had been able to rest for quite some time and should be able to carry on through the night in an effort to reach the city sooner. You weren’t exactly thrilled with the idea of having to sleep on the back of a camel tonight, but you weren’t going to argue over the sentiment when it made so much rational sense.

‘The life of an adventurer’, aye?

Whoever signed up for this life must’ve had a certain level of masochism ingrained in their psyche - you decided - in order to better deal with the curveballs and minor inconveniences that came from it. Food was eaten on the backs of your mounts that evening, an uncomfortable annoyance resulting in having nearly choked on your rations as the rocking motion of the camel had you swallowing wrong and sending you into a minor coughing fit. You took smaller bites after that, opting to have a little less than normal to balance out the risk of it happening again.

Sleeping was only a mildly better affair. You’d fallen asleep sitting upright in a high backed chair enough to know you’d be feeling it in the morning - especially considering there was nothing to support your figure as you bobbed along. Slipping in and out of a restless slumber, you were vaguely conscious of your surroundings; the gentle clomping of footfalls from the great beasts hauling you into the night, the even breaths of your companions, the soft whistle of wind throughout the valley.

At some point in your groggy state, you could've sworn your head ended up cradled by something firm yet comfortable underneath your cheek, the phantom sensation of thick fingers brushing over your strands relieving the tension in your bones. You went pliant under the calming ministrations, accompanied by gentle murmurings that you were unable to make out but sounded foreign to your ears.

You couldn’t tell if it was rooted in reality or simply a figment of the half dreamlike rest that overtook you at some point. All you knew was that waking up the next morning wasn’t as horrendous an ordeal as you’d anticipated, the joints in your neck much less creaky than if you’d have dozed off holding a book in your bedroom. 

The desert was still bathed in the cool tones of the blossoming morning when your cousin nudged you awake, a hand on your shoulder to steady you as you blinked your eyes open with a yawn. A small bundle of breakfast was already being placed into your hands before you could acknowledge it, along with instructions to eat up quickly as you were almost at your destination. 

That woke you up more than anything, practically shoveling the meager bits of food in your mouth much to the amusement of the others. You’d come all this way for this moment - enduring hardship and near death experiences - but it was all about to be worth it to be one of the first people to step foot into a long lost piece of ancient civilization in over three thousand years! 

What if it wasn’t everything you ever dreamed of? What if the image you’d conjured in your head didn’t live up to the expectations and grandeur promised of a city as important as Hamunaptra? Your insides were twisted, the sweat on your brow having nothing to do with the climate. Nerves were dialed up to a thousand as you busied yourself with readying for the last leg of your journey.

Come hell or high water: this was it.

It took maybe another fifteen minutes further ride west before you were led down into a wide valley, becoming more anxious with every step. You weren’t allowed the peace to smother your concerns, though, as who should appear on the opposite side of the dunes than those you had last seen on the other side of the Nile.

You finally got your first look at the man they called Graves, picking him out from the rest as someone you hadn’t noticed in the mess hall on the ferry and as the one currently leading their group. By all accounts he looked a simple man; a short neatly styled haircut, a light blue button up cuffed at the elbows, a faint scar slashed across his right cheek the only hint that he’d had a life that wasn’t quite so white collared.

“MacTavish, Garrick.” A thick Texan accent rolled off his tongue with all the charm of a rattlesnake. “Ma’am.”

You were used to fake niceties, but even this man had something slithering underneath the skin that rubbed you the wrong way.

“Seems like you folks all found your way here without any issue. Even went a little native by the looks of things.” There wasn’t anything thinly veiled in the slightest as he took in your appearance, squirming uncomfortably in your seat at the implied racism despite the company he himself kept. Then again, they were all hired hands. If ‘folk like him’ ran cheaper you were sure he’d be using them instead.

Kyle flashed him a sneer so vicious you were sure he was about to drop down off his mount and give that man one hell of a beating. It also didn’t escape your notice how Johnny brought his camel up a few paces, hiding you from view of the others with an obvious glower of contempt sent their way. You almost wished Graves would attempt something just so you could see what Johnny looked like when he was ‘re-learning manners’. 

But it seemed like neither of them thought it was worth the effort to respond to the instigated heckling. 

A large gap in the middle separated the two factions as you all lined up facing the east. Where your group had camels, they all had horses. You were briefly jealous of the fact, but realistically you had no complaints about your own steed as you reached down to give it an affection scratch on its head.

Moments passed with no movement from anyone.

“So we just gonna sit here like morons till the sun comes up or somethin’?” The question came from one of the Americans who’d played poker with Kyle back on the deck of the ferry. ‘Hutch’ if you recalled correctly. Certainly didn’t seem to have much in the way of patience, a sentiment echoed by his compatriot.

“Just settle down, pal.” Graves placated his teammate with a slightly raised hand. “I guarantee you it’s well worth the wait.” 

“Friendly reminder, gents.” It was the woman - Roze - who spoke up this time with a cocky grin. “Got a hundred bucks cash on the line. Lookin’ forward to having my pockets filled with English coin.”

Your cousin clearly hadn’t forgotten, patting his pockets in a ‘come and get it’ gesture that had the four cowboys chuckling in response.

“Get ready fer it.” Came the voice of your Scottish companion to the right, your eyes flicking between where his own were focused on the desolate landscape before you and his awaiting expression.

“For what?” you inquired.

“We’re ‘bout tae be shown the way.”

You ignored the mildly ominous undertone in Johnny’s words, turning your attention back to the view the same as the thirty or so of you gathered together.

Navy skies turned from amethyst to crimson and light sienna, the large golden sun rising up over the horizon as Ra began his day’s journey across the sky in his Mandjet Barque. Everyone on both sides sat in bated breath as it climbed ever higher, waiting for something that none of you outside your guides understood.

Scanning the flat lands to the northeast, you couldn’t possibly see how anything could be revealed when there were no shadows on the ground to hide something as large as that of a city. You had just begun to open your mouth to make some sort of comment implying the dubiousness surrounding this whole–

Wait.

…what?!

You blinked your eyes multiple times to be sure of what you were seeing, going beyond all reasonable explanation that your mind conjured up. Emerging like a ghost out in the valley, the shimmering visage of a once great realm slowly unveiled to the shock of those who bore witness. There it was - beyond all reasonable doubt. One could mistake it for a convincing mirage if it wasn’t for the way it solidified in front of you. If that wasn’t enough, you trusted your companion to have not steered you wrong. If Johnny didn’t think he was hallucinating then neither were you.

Heart pounding in your chest, blood rushing through your ears. You were positively breathless, only vaguely aware of Kyle to the left slapping at your arm in slack jawed stunned astonishment. It was comforting to know you weren’t the only one losing your mind at the moment.

All around you could hear everyone else's startled gasps, hushed voices speaking up in awe at the wonders held before their eyes. 

“There it is!” 

“I don’t believe it.”

“Well I’ll be...”

“The legends were true!”

“Hamunaptra.”

“‘Ere we go again.” The last comment came from Johnny, a weary sigh of resignation as he found himself once again in the presence of this place. 

It amazed you how much you found yourself not giving a damn about that, selfishly uncaring to his emotions right now as you were too busy trying to keep up with the influx of your own. All those times being mocked or looked down on for daring to believe in childlike wonderment that some legends were too real to be fake were finally proven wrong. There it was as plain as daylight, holding all the mysteries of the New Kingdom if you only reached out with your fingertips and touched it.

All it took was a single shout before all hell broke loose, the men’s thoughts turning from ones full of veneration to their jangling coin purses. It startled you out of your reverie. The calls and whipping noises from the fellows across the way urging their steeds forward had your own reacting instinctively, joined by Johnny and Kyle as you found yourselves racing across the vast stretch of desert - you to claim the site first, the men to win their wager.

The speed of the animal surprised you, having grown up seeing the creatures lumbering through the city hauling goods and occasionally people. But Cairo was full of tight corners and bustling streets. This was the Sahara - wide open and free from any obstacles that could keep it from achieving its full potential. Plenty of room for a camel to catch its stride.

You’d never endured a bumpier ride. 

What confused you the most was the fact that your own mount was apparently a cut above the rest, keeping pace with Johnny and Kyle as well as a small handful of horses on the other team. It breezed across the compacted sand, drawing whoops and hollers as you urged it forward. You’d put a horse at full gallop before, but this had an air of exhilaration that could only come with the heart racing promise of awaiting adventure.

Slowly but surely the others fell back from their positions until Grave’s was the only one of the rival group remaining as competition. It was clear his horse was quickly wearing out despite how brutally he whipped the creature's hide. Once he came to the same realization you did, he did the only thing a weak man knew how to do: resorting to cheap tricks.

You startled as suddenly he turned his beating cane on your own beast, making you lurch forward as the camel groaned in pain and tripped over its own legs. 

“Nothin’ personal, sweetheart!” He bellowed over at you as he took another swipe.

Unfortunately for him, both Johnny and Kyle were not about to allow his actions to go unpunished.

They took the opportunity when you steered your camel away in an effort to escape the beatings, coming up alongside his horse and boxing him in. Johnny grappled the reins from Graves’ hold, Kyle wrapping his blue neckerchief around Grave’s throat as he tried to fight off their combined hostilities. The pair shared a look as they both tugged on their objectives at the same time, Johnny yanking the horse right out from under him as Kyle choked him off the saddle, sacrificing his own place as he let you and Johnny speed off in his stead.

You dared a glance over at Johnny, the most wicked grin of devilish intentions on his face as he mirrored your excitement with his own, dropping the horse's reins and calling for more speed from his own animal. But you weren’t about to let him beat you that easily, not when you had every confidence in your own ability as a rider! 

It was just the two of you now - neck and neck battling it out for bragging rights. It didn’t matter at this point who won; you’d all come out victorious in the wager either way. This was just two individuals pushing each other to the limit, hearts pounding from more than just the thrill of the race as you both had trouble peeling your eyes away from the other. 

The wind in your hair; the untamed wilderness consuming your spirit. This was what you’d been missing in your life - this thing that a dangerous man like Johnny could offer you.

You weren’t prepared as he reached across the space between and landed a heavy handed slap right to the back of your mount, the beast crying out as it surged forward at an unprecedented pace. You could only hold on tight, shrieking in a mixture of surprise and elation, hearing your cousin in the distance cheering you on as you approached the looming structure.

There were no words as you made it to your destination, coasting past the massive stone obelisks at the mouth of the entrance with the biggest smile, galloping down the thoroughfare and between the crumbled ruined gates of the city.

Finally, had you arrived. The lost sacred City of the Dead.

Hamunaptra.

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[flanaganfilm]

Hi Mike,

I promise this isn't an intentional plug, I just wanted to let you know that I did my Film Studies Video Dissertation on you as an auteur and I love your work.

But I actually do have a question: you mentioned in one of your posts that Hill House was a difficult production compared to Doctor Sleep. I think it's a masterpiece and I'm curious why it was difficult and if you think that difficulty was worth it.

So I watched your video, thanks so much for all of the work and thought that clearly went into that. It was very cool to watch it. Hope you keep making vids like that, it was really well done!

Hill House is a tough one for me to really talk about - there's a lot about it I'm just not anxious to revisit, and I've made peace with most of it and left it behind. Don't love digging it back up. All of the difficulties with that show were about process, not outcome. The difficulties were absolutely worth it. Absolutely. Hill House changed everything for me, it completely redefined my career. There are moments in the series that are some of my all-time favorites. There are things like episode 6 which remain the most difficult (but most rewarding) experiences of my entire life. Some of the people I worked with on that series are family to me now, they moved into my heart and soul and that is permanent.

I mean, Kate and I found out she was pregnant with our daughter while we were shooting ep 6. We even named her Theodora. The stuff that dragged it down isn't unique or unusual or even terribly interesting - it's all pretty ordinary bullshit, just cranked up to eleven (or eleven million in some cases). I've never had that kind of pressure or frustration in my life, before or since, and it definitely is the low point of my career when it comes to production... in fact, I very much hope it remains the low point, I hope that's as bad as they get... but it was absolutely worth it.

I love that show. And I'm eternally grateful to it.