#i swear they would probably both fully sacrifice themselves for each other if they needed to

[ex-vespidae]

i think its weird that sometimes people write a "redemption" Sectonia like she just got revived and nothing phases her, she feels completely separate from the villain we see in tdx, it almost makes me feel like people see her corruption as more of possession? which its not. and also it feels like the corruption hasn't effected her at all, yeah maybe she feels guilty about it, but it doesn't feel like she's changed she just went back to who she was before but also i don't get HOW that would even be possible.

it feels like its missing the most important thing here which is that original spider sectonia and corrupted sectonia are still the same person. she didn't just get replaced with an evil version of herself, the mirror corrupted her mind to emphasise her worst traits. that sort of thing doesn't just go away when they decide to be good now!

also i think people miss the point where sectonia is almost blatantly suicidal in her final moments but you know whatever i guess

[hello-everyfandom]

“I’m doing this for you!”

Warnings: Mentions of death and war

Pairing: Sirius Black x PotterSister!Reader

Words: 2.2k

Summary: James forbids his reader from going on an undercover mission for his sister

(More angst for you all!)

“Absolutely not.”

“It’s not up to you, James,” you argued.

“Like hell it is! You’re my little sister, and I forbid it.”

“James, perhaps if you’ve for once decided not to speak out of your arsehole, then we could continue. But I must insist, that this decision was not, and is not yours to make, entirely so.”

From where you sat, your older brother leaned against the kitchen counter. His arm crossed against his body and the other against his chin in frustration. The walls of his hidden away home were quiet as the Potter twins separated into the kitchen to speak amongst themselves as siblings. 

He squinted his eyes, cleaning his glasses on the bottom of his cotton shirt before replying.“And if not mine, then whose decision?”

“It’s my own. It’s my decision.”

“You cannot! It’s... it’s not even debatable.”

“James,” you said sternly, “this is happening.” 

James looked at his sister, only younger by several minutes, and yet still saw you as a child.“Don’t you understand it is dangerous? More dangerous than you could ever understand?” he wanted to take you by the shoulders and shake you vigorously.

“As if I were even slightly unaware of the dangers of this,” you said sarcastically. 

“And yet you are still stupid enough to agree to it?” James slipped his glasses back on with shaky fingers.

“Stupid? You’ve always been overprotective, but now this is just bordering abusive.” you lightly joked, hoping to see a smile reach across his face to mirror yours. Your smile dropped when you noticed his grave expression, pale to the skin. 

“James-”

“I’m delighted you can joke about it, the idea of dying a grizzly, cruel death.

”You groaned at his overdramatic stature, “You’re overreacting.”

“Am I? Y/N, you seem to be underreacting. This, this mission, this undercover assignment is mental, it’s practically a death wish.”

“I’m a skilled witch, I know what I’m doing.”

“I’m not arguing you’re not phenomenal at duels, but this is much different then Defense Against the Dark Arts class, Y/N.”

You thought back to your conversation with Dumbledore. He had admitted to a close group of the Order that they were in dire need of Death Eater intel. Most of the people he had told refused considering the danger it’d put themselves and their family, however, he turned to you, the youngest Potter to take up the responsibility of joining the inside ranks of Lord Voldemort. You agreed quickly, understanding the current losing position of the Order. It was telling James that was more difficult than ever.

“Do you not understand?” James asked sharply.

“Of course I do, James. But, it’s my responsibility.”

“It’s selfish, is what it is.”

“What!?” you exclaimed.

“You’re willing to risk your life, for what? What about us? Your family?”

“I’m doing this for you!” you shouted angrily. The door creaked open slightly, showing Lily’s figure holding tiny baby Harry in her arms. 

“I’m sorry to interrupt, I’m putting Harry to bed and thought he would want to say goodnight to his favorite aunt.” You stood to meet her, gathering your nephew in your arms. “Is everything alright?” she looked worriedly to her husband and to her sister in law.

“Yes.”

“No.” the two of you said at the same time.

“I’m sorry, Prune, your father seems to be more of a prick today than usual,” you cooed to Harry who seemed to grow every day. You gave your nephew the nickname Prune after his birth when you noticed how wrinkled he was, like a dried prune fruit.You held Harry close, reminding yourself why this mission was of extreme importance. You were doing it to create a world for Harry to live in, a world that was safe from prejudice and violence. James whispered a soft goodnight and kissed his forehead, handing Harry back to his mother. She glanced between the Potter twins.

“Sirius and I will be in the living room,” you nodded in response as the kitchen door shut behind her.

“James, please.”

“I just don’t understand. I don’t understand why you would agree to this?”

“That’s the problem without a key or an answer. You wouldn’t understand, even if you were me, James, you’d never understand.”

James bit his lip and narrowed his eyes, “Explain it to me then, because it is rather unfathomable to understand why you’d go through such great lengths to ensure your own death in the unfortunate and probable circumstance that anyone finds out you’re a spy.”

“Fine then. For Harry.”

“Harry?” he asked confused, “What do you mean?”

“I’m doing this for Harry. You wouldn’t understand because he is your son, it is your job to stay here, in your home with your wife and protect your family here. It is my job to go out and protect your family from out here.” You said after taking a deep breath, “And, if I die, then at least I die trying to protect my own blood, my nephew. And that’s as good as any reason there is.”

“Y/N...”

“Don’t you see? It is not up to me, or you, it is about Harry. It is about winning the war. It’s about ensuring his safety, you know what the prophecy says about his birth! Sacrifices come in all shapes and forms, James. The entirety of this secret home is a sacrifice in itself. I just wish you could understand.”

“Right, well. What about us?” James asked firmly, “What about us? What happens if you die? What about us? Me? Harry? Sirius?”

“I expect you’ll understand the reasoning behind my death, then.” 

“But I won’t! All I’ll even comprehend is the fact that my baby sister is dead and it’d be her own fault!”

“It’s not confirmed I actually will die, have you already picked out my casket then?” you said sarcastically once again making James roll his eyes in complete frustration.

“Yes, well, it may as well be in writing.”

You looked to the ceiling as if searching for guidance in this conversation. “If the roles were reversed if I had just had a child with Sirius, would you stay behind closed doors during this mission? Or would you go?”

“Yes, but that’s different-”

“How?!”

“Because I can’t lose you too!” James snapped making your heart drop. Just barely a year ago, your parents had passed away due to nasty Dragon Pox. Though it seemed to hit you harder, losing your parents, but James? He always placed himself as the protector, the brother, and he had never fully expressed his sadness but rather tended to your broken cries. He’d much rather focus on his friends and his growing son than the ache of losing his parents, but the idea of losing his sister? He could barely process the idea without being in utter agony.

“James...”“

Y/N, Dumbledore can find someone else to take your place. Stay here, we can set up the living room for you. I can’t lose my sister too.”

You swallowed back a lump in your throat and encouraged your tears to burrow back in your eyes in “I can’t do that. I leave tomorrow morning before dawn.”

“Y/N...” James nearly cried. 

“I’m sorry,” you whispered.

“I’ll come with you.”

“You can’t do that, James. Not with Harry and Lily. Not with the target on your back. You know that.”

“But what if you fail?”

“What if I succeed?”

James swallowed and hurried to wipe his tears of worry, “You’ll come back?”

“I’ll try my hardest to.” 

“I mean it, Y/N. You come back or I swear I’ll put dung bombs in your bed again.”

You sent him a sad smile, “I’ll try, James.”

James pushed himself off of the counter and entrapped you in a brotherly hug. He placed his chin on the top of your head, already missing his twin more than anything.

“Did you remember to pack panties?” he joked in a high pitched voice making you snort. That was something your mother used to ask before every family trip they took in the summer up to northern England. It was nice to hear it once again, maybe for the last time.

“I love you,” you said seriously.

“I love you too, now. Well. Go kick ass and make the Potters proud.”

You sent James a grateful smile before exiting to the living room. You passed Lily who gave you a knowing look and entered the kitchen, likely to convene with her husband. Sirius sat facing away from you, looking deep into the embers of the fireplace.

“Sirius?”

“I can’t believe you’re leaving.”

“Not you too!” you laughed, 

“‘ve just convinced James now ‘ve got to convince you? Seems like you lot have already planned my funeral and everything.” 

“Don’t say that. Don’t say funeral. You’re not going to die.”

“I hope not.” you sat on the arm rest where Sirius sat. Playing with the hair on the back of his neck, he shuddered under your touch.

“As much as I hate to disagree with James, I do understand.” Sirius huffed lightly.

“It’s a duty that we signed up for when joining the Order. And now, with Lord Voldemort and the whispers of a traitor in our ranks?”

“I know.” Sirius turned, holding your soft hand in his and placing his other on your thigh. “Will you at least promise me one thing?” 

“Anything.”  

“Will you marry me when you come back?”

You beamed through wet tears, breathing deeply, “I will marry you if I come back.”

“No,” you stopped, Sirius looked at you with a firm look, “When you come back, you will marry me.”

“When I come back, I will marry you.” You repeated before placing a loving kiss on Sirius’ lips. He brushed your tears away and kissed your cheeks and then your lips. He whispered words of love and courage to you. 

That night was spent in front of the fire in the Potter home. There was a comfortable silence that settled into the bones and veins of each and every one of you, neither words were spoken but only small murmurs. And when the morning arose, you placed a confident smile on your lips and hugged your loved ones goodbye, giving Harry a gentle squeeze on his fat newborn arm. As you apparated away, James and Sirius both let out a heavy sigh.

“She’ll be alright,” Lily assured, rubbing James’ back.“I think so,” Sirius clenched his jaw, already missing you immensely. 

As days, weeks, and months passed, you were barely able to send letters to Dumbledore nevertheless to Sirius. But, when they did receive letters, they were short and written in a hurry.

“All okay, don’t worry. Love you.”

“Easier said than done, missing you.”

“Awful people. Awful acceptance.”

“Dark mark. Love you always.”

It was only until Dumbledore told the Order that you had successfully infiltrated the Death Eaters in London. You had received classified information and had relayed it to Dumbledore meaning your homecoming would be within the next few weeks. James felt rejoiced in the idea of his sister coming home and nearly bounced across the walls. Lily noticed her husband was nearly going pale with worry each and every day you were gone, but the minute he heard of your future return, and excited redness returned and she sighed in relief. Sirius, with James’ help, purchased a ring they thought you’d rather enjoy cementing the engagement beyond just words. Sirius was nervous but mostly excited to be able to safely hold you in his arms without his horrifying imagination placing you in a dungeon being tortured somewhere. The day of your arrival, Sirius and James rocked back on their heels anxiously, constantly looking towards the fireplace for a floo.

“How about I put the kettle on, yeah? I’m sure she won’t be arriving till later this afternoon,” Lily bit back the nervousness and frightened feeling she had felt. Past five in the evening, nearly time for supper, James was already writing a letter to Dumbledore asking for sister’s return. He moved to the kitchen to open the window and place the letter in his owl’s mouth. His ears perked up at the noise of the floo explosion going off and raced to the living room.

“Blimey, thought you’d never get here!” He looked around the room to see his wife with her hand on her mouth in shock and his best friend on his knees on the floor. He shifted to look at Dumbledore who had just floo’d in. 

“What’s going on? Where’s my sister?”He cleared his throat and sighed with a heavy frown. Upon hearing the news, James thought he’d nearly pass out. Maybe he did. Because he couldn’t remember sitting down on the living room couch. Sirius shook vigorously, the feeling of sudden grief and sorrowful stricken emotions that took over. Dumbledore repeated himself again. You were coming home, nearly two blocks away from the Order headquarters and more than a few blocks from the Potter home, when you were ambushed. Sirius found himself needing to throw up, but swallowed his bile. Death Eaters, who were earlier informed by a traitor that you were working for the Order, took you, tortured you, and killed you. Nothing was left but the broken and beaten body that was dropped off at the steps of headquarters. You were so close, you were so close to being home, to being safe. 

[fanfic-corner]

John Being An Asshole

When The World Screams by K_K_Tibal on AO3. (31,354 words).

Tags: Alternate Universe, Deaf Castiel, EMT Castiel, Guitarist Dean, Aftermath of a car accident, Mild Gore, Past Abuse, Panic Attacks, Mind Reading Through Touch, Ableism, Slow Burn, Love Confessions, John Winchester Being an Asshole.

My Rating: 5 stars.

Description: The one thing that Castiel Novak can’t do is hear. He excels in his job as an EMT despite the fact that he’s deaf and has never let anything hold him back from being at the top of his game. That is, until he meets a certain man in the aftermath of a car accident. The one thing Dean Winchester can’t do is touch. Communication should be simple with the easy way that people can read each other’s thoughts through skin contact, but Dean outright refuses anything of the sort and much prefers the gentle caress of fingers on guitar strings. That is, until his dreams of being a professional guitarist are shattered in the accident. Even with the unfortunate circumstances of their meeting, a friendship grows and there is one thing they realize they can do for each other very well: Listen.

Notes: I was very confused until I figured out the mind reading thing, but once I did, I loved it!

Sleepless in Lawrence, Kansas by PrinceMalice on AO3. (50,162 words).

Tags: Radio Show AU, Self Help, Long Distance Pining, Sleepless in Seattle, John Winchester is Terrible, Slow Build, Some Angst.

My Rating: 5 stars.

Description: “Um, yes, hi. My name is Sam and I’m calling from Lawrence, Kansas.” A new voice... Castiel loved new voices. They always had new stories to tell. “Kansas… well, it’s not really midnight down there, is it? What keeps you up?” he asked. “I’m worried about my brother, Dean.”

Notes: Actually so cute, even though I’ve never seen the movie! I’m never quite sure whether I ship Sam and Ruby, especially in this, but Ruby was an icon in it.

Just Like You by imherecauseimnotallthere98 on AO3. (35,717 words).

Tags: Homophobia, Homophobic John, Hurt Dean Winchester, Protective Dean Winchester, Established Relationship, Protective Castiel, BAMF Castiel, Protective Sam Winchester, Angry John, Angry Dean Winchester, Angry Sam Winchester, Protective Bobby Singer, Awesome Bobby, Hurt/Comfort, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Scared Dean, John Being an Asshole, Swearing, Bisexual Dean, Pansexual Castiel, Past Child Abuse, Accidental Outing, Death Threats, Fluff and Angst, Implied Sexual Content, Sharing a Bed.

My Rating: 5 stars.

Description: When John shows up at their door in the middle of the night, the Winchesters and Cas start looking into who or what could have brought him back. Meanwhile, Dean struggles to keep his relationship with Cas a secret from his father, with some help from Sam. The tension rises between the Winchesters as Dean shows John that he is no longer the obedient little soldier he once was, and tries to establish himself as an equal with his dad.

Notes: I asked for John being an asshole, and this fic delivered. There are many fics where he is horrible or does horrible things, but this one is definitely the crowning champion. Bobby and Sam are incredible in it, though.

999 Days From Now by RebelSpaceOddity on AO3. (35,537 words).

Tags: Hurt/Comfort, Character Death, Alternate Universe, Past Drug Addiction, Romance, Slow Burn, Copious Amounts of Angst, Asshole John Winchester, Diner Owner Dean.

My Rating: 5 stars.

Description: An AU in which a recovered alcoholic Dean owns a diner, Sam is in law school and is clueless about the way Jess looks at him, and Cas? Well, Cas turns Dean’s world upside down and maybe, just maybe, gives him a reason to have a little faith.The love of a lifetime told in a heartbeat.

Notes: This fic got me. I have a terrible, risky habit of not reading the tags/warnings, so imagine my horror when I got halfway through this fic before I realised my mistake! It was excellent, though.

Father Knows Best by DarkHeartInTheSky on AO3. (81,034 words).

Tags: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Canon Divergence from Season 8, Castiel Whump, Hurt Castiel, Worried Dean, Kidnapping, John Winchester Being an Asshole.

My Rating: 5 stars.

Description: When John wakes up alone in a field after spending years in Hell, he thinks he's been given a second a chance. A chance to do right by his boys for once. A chance to protect them like he should have. So protect them he will--even from the horrific creature that's weaseled its way into their lives that calls itself an angel of the Lord.

Notes: I know he means well, but Jesus H Christ, John is really desperate to win that Worst Father of the Year Award in this (He wins. That’s all I’m saying).

Collapsed Rainbows by suckerfordeansfreckles on AO3. (6,125 words).

Tags: Soulmate AU, Soulmate-Identifying Marks, Hurt Dean Winchester, Hospitals, Nurse Castiel, Blood and Injury, Falling in Love, John Winchester Being an Asshole, Hurt/Comfort, Touch-Starved Dean Winchester, Dean has a lot of Selfworth Issues, Blood, Bruises, Broken Bones, First Kiss.

My Rating: 4 stars.

Description: Dean wakes up on his 18th birthday, giddy and a little scared, and rips his blanket off of himself to start searching his hands for the soulmark that is supposed to appear somewhere on his body today. Nothing. His arms. Nothing. Shoulders, upper body, legs. Nothing. It’s okay, he tells himself, don’t panic yet. But then he rushes to the bathroom and braces himself on the edge of the sink to look up into the mirror, and it’s right there. Black streaks and blotches along the edge of his jaw, dark like ink. Marks like the imprints of knuckles meeting Dean’s chin. It takes him a little while to fully realizes what this means. That his soulmark is there, for everyone to see, right on his face, impossible to hide.

That his soulmate’s first touch will be a punch to Dean’s face.

Notes: Super cute but slightly frustrating and the plot is a tad thin.

Your Love is Strong by tale_to_tell on AO3. (6,562 words).

Tags: Hurt Dean Winchester, Worried Castiel, Worried Sam Winchester, Protective Castiel, Sam Winchester Knows, Sam Winchester Ships Castiel/Dean, Sam Winchester is So Done, Brotherly Love, Major Character Injury, Ghosts, Canon Universe, Internalized Homophobia, Homophobic John Winchester, Implied Sexual Content, Angst with a Happy Ending.

My Rating: 3 stars.

Description: Sam knew. Honesty, it was impossible not to know. Dean and Cas were always brushing shoulders and sharing sickeningly sweet smiles. There was also so much eye-fucking. God, it was disgusting how in love they were. At first, Sam wondered when they were going to figure it out for themselves, but now he just wondered if they would figure it out at all. It had been years. God, Dean was so stupid sometimes. A "Profound bond," could you be anymore obvious than that? Dean was either super oblivious or just an idiot. Probably both. Definitely both. What Sam didn't know, however, was that Dean and Cas were already aware of their feelings for one another and in a relationship. They were just trying to figure out how to tell him. Apparently, a terrible injury on a hunt is what would ultimately reveal their relationship to Sam, just not in the way any of them would have wanted.

Notes: Sam is such an unbelievable mood in this.

Sins of the Father by allthebeautifulthings9828 on AO3. (2,458 words).

Tags: Post Episode s08e23 Sacrifice, Fallen Castiel, Human Castiel, POV Dean Winchester, Abusive John Winchester, Love, First Date, Protective Sam Winchester, Angst with a Happy Ending, Family Angst.

My Rating: 3 stars.

Description: Having had enough of Dean hiding his relationship with Castiel, Sam takes matters into his own hands. He won't let Dean deny that he's in love with the former angel, but nothing prepared him for his big brother's confession about the last time he was with a male. Can Sam undo yet more of John Winchester's damage before Dean runs from his feelings again?

Notes: Quite short but cute, and I live for Sam being supportive.

Athazagoraphobia by Mickey_Todoroki on AO3 and Wattpad. (20,347 words).

Tags: Established Castiel/Dean, Established Gabriel/Sam, Protective Rowena, Hurt Dean Winchester, Bisexual Dean Winchester, Abused Dean Winchester, John Winchester Being an Asshole, Mental Health Issues, Panic Attacks, Athazagoraphobia, Suicide Attempt, Self-Harm, Past Non-con, Attempted Murder, Alternate Ending.

My Rating: 2 stars.

Description: After some thinking, Amara decides that Dean needs both his parents. Only, she didn't know his past. And what John did to Dean growing up. And now that he's back, Dean might regress back to his 22-year-old scared self.

Notes: I know that some people like them, and there certainly are a lot of them, but this reads like an angsty, emotionally repressed fic usually reserved to the depths of Wattpad, which you find at 3am and wonder whether the author is okay. It was fine, but only just.

So, there you have it. (Probably) everyone’s least favourite Winchester, being a complete dick. You’re welcome.

[novastarlyght]

That Time I Named an Invader Zim Background Character and Everyone Thought it was Canon: The Story of Ixane

Like a lot of others it seems, the premiere of Enter the Florpus has recently made me think back to my first stay in the Invader Zim fandom many years ago. For me it was between 2006 and 2007, and I was 14-15 at the time. IZ was and still is a very special cartoon to me, not only for how it influenced me creatively but also the fact being a part of its fandom was my first really positive experience in a fan community. And I wanna talk about that experience because it... lead to something very interesting. Something that only could’ve happened in the now bygone days of the early internet where reliable sources were harder to find and misinformation was much more common, but somehow, has lasted until today. 

This is how Ixane, a silent extra that appears only in the episode “Backseat Drivers from Beyond the Stars,” got her name.

So first off, you might be wondering “Who the heck is Ixane?” As I mentioned, she only appears as a background character in the 21st episode of the original series, titled “Backseat Drivers from Beyond the Stars” which I’ll abbreviate for the rest of this post as just Backseat Drivers. She’s a member of The Resisty, a resistance group against the Irken Empire who also only appear in that episode, although they were planned to become more significant recurring characters later down the line before the show was cancelled.

In 2006 I LOVED the Resisty. They were my favorite group of characters in the entire show, probably because I was fascinated by all their potential which sadly didn’t get the chance to be explored before IZ was canceled. What planets did each of them come from? What are each of their individual species like? How did they form into a single resistance group? What were their names, their personalities? Their hopes, dreams and fears?! THEIR FAVORITE DRINKS?!?! I attempted to provide my own answers to some of these not-so-burning-to-anyone-but-myself (or so I thought at the time...) questions by writing a fanfic called “Resisting Authority,” which I published on Fanfiction.net and later DeviantArt. It’s since been taken down on FFN while the DA version is currently in private storage on my old account, so here’s a screenshot just to prove it existed:

(click here for larger image)

Despite being more adult in tone than the show it was based on and rather melodramatic (then again, I was 14, and probably so was everyone else reading it), “Resisting Authority” became really, REALLY popular... at least for a fic that didn’t feature any of the show’s main characters, given it was entirely about the Resisty and told mostly from the perspective of its leader, Captain Lard Nar. Regardless it got a large amount of positive feedback and significant fan art on DeviantArt, most of which is no longer online although there’s still a little bit hanging around - mainly featuring Lyn, an Irken OC from the story who chooses to rebel against the empire and falls in love with Lard Nar, leading to a star crossed lovers conflict.

Because the purpose of the fic was to further explore the Resisty along with the idea of “What if an Irken betrayed their own?” several characters that appeared onscreen for only a couple of seconds in Backseat Drivers were fleshed out considerably in “Resisting Authority,” where they were given names, species names, home planet names, backstories, motivations and personalities. And of these the one who received by far the most development was a feminine, blue-eyed alien in a hooded purple cloak who I decided to name “Ixane.”

Ixane would become one of the most important characters in “Resisting Authority” right behind Lard Nar and Lyn. She is a Xanan from the planet Xana, a race of spiritual mystics. She is initially distrustful of Lyn, despite her actions and claims to be as much of a rebel as the rest of them, due to her hatred for the Irken Empire and how they destroyed her home. She believes Irkens are more like machines than living creatures, their bodies merely being empty shells to carry their PAKs around, making them incapable of genuine emotion. When she discovers Lyn and Lard Nar have been in a secret romantic relationship, she becomes even more hateful towards Lyn both due to jealousy, since she’d been harboring feelings for Lard Nar herself, and her genuine belief that Lyn’s feelings aren’t real, something that will only hurt Lard Nar in the end.

However throughout the course of the story her views are challenged and eventually Lyn manages to prove her wrong by displaying what she can’t deny is anything but legitimate love for Lard Nar and compassion for her allies in the Resisty. Unfortunately Lyn is fatally injured during a battle with a number of Irken soldiers sent to hunt down the rebellion. Now wanting nothing more than happiness for the person she loves, Ixane uses her mystical powers to save Lyn’s life while sacrificing her own in the process.

This character development (both in the meta sense and in the context of the fic itself) plus her selfless heroic sacrifice is what I think made Ixane one of the fic’s breakout characters and caused her to stick in the minds of those who read “Resisting Authority.” They were no longer thinking of her as just some extra, but as this fully developed character complete with an arc that I’d made her into - as the character of Ixane. But it didn’t occur to me just how big of an impact this may have truly had until about 9 years later.

In 2015, the official Invader Zim comic series by Oni Press began publication and I found myself extremely hyped about IZ again for the first time in almost a decade. It was during this time I came across a particular IZ wiki article and section of its TV Tropes page...

(Sources are here and here)

And I thought to myself “Wait... I thought I named her Ixane...?”

Because at this point I seriously couldn’t remember. I hadn’t thought about “Resisting Authority” in years, and with TV Tropes in particular noting that Ixane’s name was given “in the [episode] script” I wondered if I didn’t actually come up with the name. Maybe it was in the script for Backseat Drivers after all so I used it in the fic. Being unable to find said script (the original script as made by the episode’s writers, not a transcript) I couldn’t confirm it, so I mainly shrugged it off and thought more than likely I just had a bad memory. It wouldn’t be on a (still regularly maintained) wiki if it didn’t at least have a high possibility of being canon, right?

Cut to last night, August 2019. Me and all my other friends and fellow nerds who also grew up loving IZ are still buzzing over Enter the Florpus and our childhood/teenage fan content comes up in conversation. I dig up “Resisting Authority” from my old DA storage for perhaps a good laugh and a bit of nostalgia when more of when I first wrote it starts to come back to me. “I know the wikis all say her name was in the script, but I swear I came up with the name Ixane myself,” I thought, wondering if there was any way I could prove it.

Turns out I could. All the proof I needed was in a drawing of the character I posted to DA in January of 2007, which like the fic was still in storage:

(click here for larger image)

“Um...I bet a lot of people who read Resisting Authority got the impression she was an OC. She technically isn't. She is a Resisty character we saw VERY BRIEFLY once or twice in Backseat Drivers and I just elaborated on her for the story. The cloaked girl, yasee. Just look here: [link] “

That link no longer works normally, however putting it into Wayback Machine provides a snapshot taken in September of 2006, which would be around the time “Resisting Authority” was first published on FFN. Scrolling down on that page gives us...

(click here for larger image)

Additionally, opening the image itself reveals the filename “resistycloak.jpg” rather than something like “ixane.jpg” or “resistyixane.jpg”

For those who weren’t in the fandom back then, The Scary Monkey Show was a very well known IZ fansite and its Encyclopedias section was basically a resource for the show’s lore, one considered highly reliable, before things like fan wikis became commonplace. I actually used this site as a reference for the different types of Irken ships and other planets in the IZ universe brought up in the fanfic and so did many other fic writers at the time. If any site on the internet would know a minor or even background IZ character’s name, if it really was in the official episode script, it’d be The Scary Monkey Show. Yet her name is listed as unknown.

So why am I telling you this?

Because as wild as this whole situation is, I’m not a person who likes misinformation. I feel like IZ fans, both young and old, should know Ixane is not actually this character’s canon name as given to her by the writers of the show. That being said...

I see no reason to stop calling her Ixane. That’s just her name now.

Heck, it’d probably be difficult to go back to thinking of her as having no name given how long the name has been used on all these wiki pages and whatnot. And I’m completely fine with receiving absolutely zero credit for actually being the one who came up with the name in the first place, because here’s the thing...

I may have made the name, but it was the fandom that spread it. The IZ community, primarily in my absence too, were the ones who codified, legitimized it. Who added it to those wikis and accepted it as canon all these years. Who believed in it enough to assume it came from the official episode script, from the IZ crew themselves!

Ixane isn’t my name for her. It’s our name for her, as the fans who made Invader Zim the cult classic it is today.

And I want that to be something we all can have and be proud of ❤︎

[windstormwielding]

@catnippp​ said via Send 💭 + a topic and my muse will tell you what they think about it (accepting!):

💭+Quincies/Espada after the wars

“Goodness... where do I even begin with those?”

A mildly apprehensive Kōtarō couldn’t help but crane his head back a little, chin resting between thumb and curled index after he set down his cup of hot ginger tea. Eyes closed for a few moments so he could concentrate on his answer in relative silence… and with the additional comfort of guaranteed anonymity from the man with the bucket hat sitting across the low table, he was free to speak his mind without judgement or persecution.

When one of his men brought up the topic of Aizen a few days ago, his answer came with a straightforward explanation of his own distaste toward the turncoat with godly ambitions, a common opinion shared among many shinigami within the Gotei 13.

But the Espada and the Quincy, on the other hand… Just sharing his honest opinions on either group would take some time for him to elaborate freely, but both at once? That would take the 13th’s lieutenant a hot minute and a half to properly compile his thoughts.

Then again, there’s some benefit to speaking off the cuff—no second-guessing, just throwing out the first things that come to mind. Ten years still gave him plenty of time to think, even between restoration efforts within the Seireitei, and boy does he have a lot on his mind on these.

Might as well begin with the easy one?

“I guess I’ll start with the Espada. A group of already ultra-powerful Menos-class hollows whose transitions into Arrancar were heightened by the Hōgyoku… and were recruited or coerced into working under Aizen,” Kōta began. “As things currently stand now, I don’t have any particularly strong feelings on the Espada… I’ve said it once before already, but I really don’t think Arrancar are inherently evil. Heck, I’d even go so far as to say that even Hollows aren’t inherently evil, though they are definitely more frenzied by nature in order to feed—only ones who were truly evil as humans get sent to Hell upon death anyway. There’s good and bad among the Arrancar, just the same as us Shinigami, and I would be doing their reclaimed humanity a disservice if I still thought them no different from beasts. They’re people, and like people, all that matters is the kind of person each individual Arrancar chooses to be.”

With that train of thought, Kōtarō blinked to himself once he realized he had gone off on a tangent, then shook his head and downed some warm tea to renew his focus. With a satisfied hum, he resumed his discussion on the main topic of his monologue: the actual Espada, and not waxing philosophical on Arrancar wholesale.

"Anyway, I’m getting off-track, but my point is that I’m not going to condemn the surviving Espada for their past affiliations; once that war was over, the feeling I got was that they wanted to move on from Aizen just as much as we did. After the ex-Captain got them involved in his affairs, only to send them off to die by the hands of other Soul Reapers, they deserve at least that much from us. I won’t pretend I know the new Queen Tier Harribel personally, but she does have the A-OK from a friend (Nelliel) of a friend (Ichigo) of a friend (Captain Rukia) of mine. Overall impression is that she’s leaps and bounds ahead morally over the likes of Barragan Louisenbarn and Aizen himself, so that should count for something, right? My hope is that we can establish some kind of amicable relationship with her new order she’s trying to raise, although I’d imagine she would rather have us leave well enough alone—just so long as we’re not hostile toward one another…”

A wistful sigh followed as the Lieutenant’s thoughts drifted on wishful thinking. It would be nice if the Gotei 13 and the new Queen could found a diplomatic partnership of some kind, wouldn’t it? He personally felt an amicable alliance would only help to better strengthen each side, but even the new kingdom born within the realm of Hollows have little to no reason to trust the Seireitei as is. Then there’s the matter of Central 46, the governing body of the Soul Society, who’d surely have thoughts of their own on such an alliance, and none of them positive. What a shame.

Arms folded unto themselves for comfort as the lieutenant leaned back against the zaisu. His gaze stared off into nothing in particular as he looked up to the shop ceiling.

“...but that’s just how the system works, isn't it? We slay Hollows so they can be reborn into Souls, and so that we can keep preserving the balance between the Soul Society, Hueco Mundo, and the world of the living lest it all comes to an unceremonious end. While I don’t think that ought to apply to fully sentient beings like Arrancar, in a way, I see us slaying Hollows as a mercy. It’s a kindness, really, to end the suffering that consumed them as souls, souls we couldn’t save on time… which is more than I can say compared to how my precursors treated the Quincy.”

And there it is. Kōtarō turned silent at his mention of the Quincy—the polar opposite to his kind, those who he directly and involuntarily fought against in the Quincy Blood War. The relationship between Hollows, plus Arrancar by extension, and Shinigami was a relatively simple one to break down into words. It was an easy regurgitation of hard facts internalized over his century-long career, splashed with his own personal impressions on those who stood at the apex of Hollowkind. Quincy, on the other hand… where could he even begin?

“…I only swing my zanpakutō to slay Hollows. Cutting down humans though—the very people I’m supposed to be keeping watch over and protecting—that’s not what I signed up for, but that’s exactly what I did during that war, isn't it? Even if it was in self-defence, those Soldaten were still humans with lives to live and families to come back to… it’s shameful, when I think about it.”

Gaze narrowed as grim visions of the war returned to the forefront of his mind, then shut firmly with a wince for an expression as Kōta fought those unpleasant memories back.

“A-anyway, right. The Quincy, a race of spiritually empowered humans who fight with reishi manipulation… though I’m guessing you’re asking specifically about my thoughts on the Vandenreich, aren’t you?” This earned the lieutenant a slow nod from his candy shop-owning inquirer. “Well, whereas the Espada were either coerced into joining Aizen, fought for the sake of fighting, or relished at the opportunity to kill Soul Reapers, the Quincy who rallied under Yhwach’s banner differ in that they all shared a justified, nigh-unified hatred towards us. Unlike Aizen and the Espada… the Quincy’s war was a direct consequence of the Gotei 13’s past actions—that much, I understand now. Yhwach only galvanized and weaponized what was already there because of my predecessors.”

The look on Lt. Ryōhei’s face came off as fatigued now—he had a long time to think about this particular subject, with many sleepless nights spent reading and discussing the matter with fellow reapers after the dust settled. “Even if genocide was attempted for the sake of preventing the collapse of all three realms, all in the name of balance again, it’s still genocide, right? Of course retribution was going to follow. Of course they’d want to wipe us out in turn, just as the Gotei 13 tried to do unto them between the first war and the attempted extermination over 200 years ago. Then the second war came, only for Yhwach to dispose of them just as easily once they served their purpose…”

The storm-haired man paused as his own words started to weigh him down. "I feel... awful for them, really. Time and again they’ve been persecuted through no real fault of their own. Quincy don’t exist—weren’t brought into this world—only to die by our hands. I refuse to accept that.” A brief pause, to top off his half-full cup with some fresh tea... only to realize the pot was empty. "Then for their loyalty, the reward many of the survivors wrought was abandonment by their own God-King. There’s no sugarcoating it: the Quincy deserve better. Compassion, aid, pity, whatever; they kept getting robbed at every turn, and then were robbed some more when they’ve had enough and bit back. I don’t care if negotiations in the past fell through—we need to sit down, try again, keep talking, and come up with something of a proper solution for both sides.”

His company noted how Kōtarō’s observations between the Espada and Quincy differed, given he’d only ever fought one of the two himself, and so he piped up with an interesting question. Forgiveness?

“Truth is… I do forgive them, Urahara-san. Really, I do. Impossible as it may seem, even after they’ve slaughtered thousands of our own? Including Yamamoto, Sasakibe, and… and even Ukitake? After everything they’ve done? I honestly forgive them. There’s no point in condemning the remaining Quincy for fighting under Yhwach’s banner once upon a time. What matters is how we survivors—us and them—choose to live our lives in the here and now. Those among the Sternritter who still swear fealty to Yhwach, it’s probably inevitable we’ll come to fight again. There, I can sleep comfortably knowing I’ll raise my blade to try and stop them from trying to pile on more needless sacrifices, and this time, I’ll be ready for them if that happens. Those who just want to live their lives in peace, on the other hand… I’d like to build up a proper rapport with them somehow, if it’s doable, you know?”

A laugh broke from the lieutenant, albeit a sardonic one, as he continued with that line of thought. “Though I’m sure they don’t want to risk making themselves visible to Gotei folk like myself, or would sooner put an arrow through my heart before I’d get the chance to say: ‘Hello, my kind tried to wipe yours out on three separate occasions! What say we forget all that and let bygones be bygones over a good sporting game of shogi?’” Kōtarō even swung his arms together to emphasize his delivering a punchline as though he were a standup comedian, but the wry smile on his face made it clear he wasn’t aiming for laughs.

Ah, his tea grew cold from neglect… and the cup was still half full.

Oh well, down the hatch.

As he drank the last of his tea, Kisuke chanced another question—if there were any Arrancar or Quincy Kōtarō would want to meet himself. An interesting proposition…

“Well… I did hear that Captain Kurotsuchi has a Privaron on standby who specializes in wind manipulation like me? I’d like to meet him sometime, if that’s the case—discuss our craft, see what we can learn from each other and what not.”

A name slipped from the man of science’s lips: Dordoni. The lieutenant of winds nodded and made a mental note of it; the next time he’s over by the Shinigami Research and Development Institute, he’ll ask around.

“As for the Sternritter, at least among those I’ve read about… that’s an easy one. Sternritter T: Candice Catnipp, the Thunderbolt.”

Somehow, his name choice only seemed to amuse the man sitting opposite across the table. The combination of fan raised over his face, a tasteless joke, and a sly smirk got under Kōta's skin immediately.

“H-hey, hey, it’s nothing like THAT! I’m a man of storms and wind, she’s a woman of thunder and lightning—I vibe with her aesthetic is all I’m saying!” Kōta was quick to shoot up onto his knees and slam his hands on the table as he tried to defend himself (he couldn’t help but wonder what kind of crazy weather they could create together, lover of storms he is), but it was a fool’s errand that only spurred Urahara into further laughter at his expense. Oh well.

“SO, as you asked, I shared my thoughts on our former adversaries and then some. Say you keep your end of the bargain and we keep all of this between ourselves?” he huffed, shooting an unimpressed glare toward the man in green, who just set down a new batch of fresh tea for them both with a nod. At least that’s settled.

Kōtarō mulled things over as he sipped on ginger, as he found his mind going back to Ginjō and the words they exchanged then. He had believed in the greater good of the Soul Society for so long, but some of the atrocities his own kind committed had him stop and think sometimes. Even his late Captain set his foot down when he saw one injustice too many with Rukia’s execution 12 years prior, which only made Ryōhei prouder to serve the Thirteenth Division under Ukitake’s name.

The source of all that injustice… the endless suffering of Hollows, the attempted genocides onto the Quincy, the ongoing squalor Souls lived in after believing in the idea of a cozy afterlife…

“…sometimes, I can’t help but wonder,” Kōtarō found himself saying. "How much easier would it be for everyone if we didn’t have to worry about something as arbitrary, impersonal, and cruel as ‘balance’ in the first place?”

[frozenartscapes]

The Room of Requirement - Exolvo AU

AN: This is a sequel to a fic I wrote a few years back, called “The Patronus”. I started this fic after rewatching Order of the Pheonix back around Christmas and I finally got enough motivation to finish it. In my first fic, it’s revealed that Elsa’s able to cast a cobra Patronus after she and Anna are attacked by stray Dementors, and Anna then asks Elsa to teach her the spell. I’ve decided to follow up on that request.

“Ok, so there’s something I have to show you, but just like before…you can’t tell anyone.”

“And…like I said, I swear I won’t.”

Anna had led Elsa down an empty corridor in the school, making numerous turns around corners and constantly checking behind her as if someone was hot on their trail. When Elsa was certain that her sister had somehow managed to get them both lost deep in the depths of the castle, they stopped in front of what seemed like an ordinary wall.

But then the wall shifted. A massive crack formed right down the middle, and the halves parted like great, stone doors. Elsa shot a glance at Anna in alarm, and all Anna responded with was a wide grin.

As they entered the strange room beyond the doors, Anna finally explained, “It’s the Room of Requirement. It—”

“Only appears if it’s needed,” Elsa finished, still in awe of the great chamber they stood in. Large, massive stone arches lined the central nave, but the pillars did not touch the ground, seemingly holding the ceiling up with a great, unseen magic rather than stone. The walls were lined with ancient, decaying mirrors reflecting the room a thousand times.

“You know about this place?” Anna asked in surprise.

“I’ve read about it,” Elsa told her, “I took some time to read up about the school during some of my free time.”

Anna laughed softly. “That sounds about right,” she commented lightly, “I’m surprised you and Hermione don’t hang out more.”

Elsa rolled her eyes at her sister’s teasing. “And how do you know about this place?” she wondered.

Anna drew a deep breath. “This is…where we’ve been learning,” she said carefully, “But I’m serious, y…you really can’t tell anyone about this.”

Elsa met her sister’s worried gaze, and with the most sincere earnestly, replied, “You have my word, Anna. I won’t tell a soul.”

Anna smiled again, and said excitedly, “Ok, well… Let’s get started then!”

Elsa nodded, but panic was starting to set in. She had never really taught before, and although this was just her sister, it almost felt like she had even more pressure to do it right. “Ok, so let’s start with the basics,” she said, “Let’s see your wand movement.”

Anna got her wand out and flicked her wand in the way Harry had taught her a couple times. After a moment Elsa nodded again, and said, “Good. You’ve got that part down. Why don’t you try actually casting it?”

Anna bit her lip slightly in concentration, focusing everything on performing the spell. After mentally preparing herself, she flicked her wand and stated, “Expecto Patronum!”

Nothing, not even the smallest bit of light, escaped her wand.

“See?” she said in dismay, “This is what I was talking about! I’ve got nothing.”

“It’s fine, Anna,” Elsa told her comfortingly, “It’s not exactly an easy spell. Remember: you need to have some kind of positive, light-filled memory or thought. Something that just…fills your whole being with joy.”

“I thought I had that, but…” Anna said with a sigh. After a slight pause, she turned to her sister and asked softly, “What do you think about?”

Elsa gulped nervously, feeling her face flush a little in her embarrassment. “I…” she stammered slightly, suddenly feeling very self-conscious, “I…think about you.”

Anna took a moment to process that information, blinking a few times in shock. “Y…you think…about me?” she questioned, “But… Why?”

Elsa sighed heavily. Unable to fully make eye contact, she revealed, “You are the only light in my life, Anna. You are…fire, life, warmth. You have always brought me so much happiness, and even in the last few years, just watching you grow and doing things that made you happy, it…” She trailed off, then. Anna caught her wipe something from her eyes. Elsa then turned to meet her sister’s gaze, and stated softly, “You are my sun. In a life that is nothing but dreary storm clouds. I couldn’t think of anything else more perfect for that spell.”

Anna merely stood there, her mouth slightly agape, stupefied by what her sister just told her. Subconsciously, she shook her head, because there was no way she meant that much to her sister…right? Elsa… She had to have had a better life that what she was describing.

“Elsa, I…” Anna couldn’t think of what to say. She had never thought she would ever mean that much to her sister. Elsa had always been so cold, so distant, and sure Anna now knew why but… It was still so much to get her head around. Learning about Elsa's sacrifice had left her feeling a million emotions at once. She was angry, saddened, confused. Knowing why still didn’t excuse all the hurt and pain she felt over those years when it seemed like Elsa wanted nothing to do with her. But at the same time, she was now able to imagine what it must have been like for Elsa. And Anna found that she was unable to think about that for long.

The longer she processed it, the longer this strange, warm feeling was starting to brew in her chest. She was Elsa’s sun. Elsa cared for her so much that she regarded her as the sun.

“I’m…I’m gonna try again,” she stated confidently, believing with her whole heart that now she had something that would make the spell work. She thought about what Elsa had just told her, about how good it felt to be Elsa’s sun. And when she was ready, she flicked her wand and cried, “Expecto Patronum!”

A bit of light burst forth, but it fizzled out quickly, and came no where near to producing anything effective.

Anna felt her heart sink in disappointment. But determination and stubbornness quickly took hold. So she tried again. And again. And again. Each time, only thin little whisps of light that didn’t even illuminate the room appeared.

“Anna, hold on for a second!” Elsa said over her sisters many and increasingly desperate attempts to produce the charm.

“No, I can do this!” Anna argued, “I…I have to do this!”

“This spell is hard, Anna. You don’t have to get it right today,” Elsa told her.

“Yes, I do! I do because I owe it to you!” Anna finally stopped after blurting that out, and she quickly slapped a hand over her mouth.

Elsa met her panicked gaze, and while she seemed confused, she still said softly, “You don’t owe me anything, Anna, especially this spell. We can get it some other time.”

Anna sighed, deflating as she did, and admitted, “No, it’s just… Y…you think so highly of me yet I can’t perform the one spell that’s based entirely on someone’s happiness. You…you think I’m the freaking sun but… I’m just as depressing as a rain cloud. I don’t even have a happy memory that’ll make this stupid spell work.”

When she looked up, she could see it in Elsa’s eyes: guilt. Elsa bowed her head in shame, and said quietly, “I’m…I’m sorry, Anna.”

“It’s…it’s not your fault,” Anna told her.

“It is, though. Partially, at least,” Elsa sighed, “I took so much away from you.”

“And that took so much away from you, too,” Anna reminded her, “It just…sucks. What happened to us. And with everything that’s happening now, too…”

She trailed off, then, as she noticed the air around them had turned cold. Small, delicate snowflakes were forming in the air, and frost on the floor at her sister’s feet. Elsa had her eyes screwed shut, her hands clasped tightly in front of her, and she was muttering something about maintaining control under her breath. Anna looked at the snow, then around the large, empty room they had all to themselves. Just like the great room in their old house…

“You shouldn’t hold it back like that,” she said softly.

Elsa shook her head. “It’s too dangerous right now. I…I can feel it.”

“But holding it in only hurts you,” Anna protested, “What if… What if we take a break from teaching me and we work on you?”

“Me?”

“Just…just let it go. This room is meant for magic practice, after all.”

Elsa looked around the room with uncertainty. “But…what about you?” she asked slowly.

Anna proudly displayed her wand, and said, “Harry says my shield charm is top notch.” Elsa still seemed unsure, so she added, “Elsa: we’re not kids anymore. Ok, we’re still technically kids but not little kids who don’t know what we’re doing. You’re probably one of the best witches in this school and I’ve been learning a few tricks myself. You can control your magic. I know you can. And I can be careful.”

“I…I don’t know, Anna…”

“You’re helping me learn. Let me help you.”

Slowly, ever so slowly, Elsa looked down at her hands. She spent a long time just staring at them, weighing out the pros and cons of doing this kind of practice. Her magic stirred restlessly under her skin, urging her to take up her sister’s offer. But her fear was just as desperately demanding she didn’t. After an extended pause, she drew a deep breath, and said shakily, “If I tell you to run, run, ok? If things slip out of my control I don’t want you trying to help by putting yourself in danger. I’ve lost control on my own before - I can handle it. What I can’t handle is you getting hurt again.”

Anna solemnly shook her head. “You have my word,” she said simply.

Elsa took another shaky breath. “Ok,” she said, glancing around the room as if searching for a good place to start, “Ok…”

After another moment of Elsa hesitating, just looking around the room in confusion and indecision, Anna asked, “Are you…gonna do anything? Or are you thinking?”

Elsa frowned. It was the expression she made whenever she was overthinking something, when her concentration was laser-focused on her current task at hand. “I…I don’t know where to start,” she admitted quietly after another minute of thought, “I…I’ve never really… It’s been so long since…”

Anna felt her heart sink as she watched Elsa stare down at her hands with a lost and confused frown on her face. She supposed it was like learning how to use a spell that was way above one’s level. Something so complicated and intricate and immense that there was no easy approach, no clear way of getting started on learning it. Only it wasn’t, really, because there was no one around who could teach Elsa anything about using her magic. It was hers, and hers alone, one with her heart and soul and body and mind in a way most magic isn’t and the only one who’d know anything about it had forced herself to forget as much as she could about it in the hopes it would leave her body.

“Well,” Anna began slowly. She wished with all her might that she could be a better help, but her memories of Elsa’s magic were faded, gone in some places. “You said we used to play with your magic before…the accident,” she said, “What if…you start there? How’d we normally start to play?”

Elsa swallowed hard. “Well, I’d start by making it snow,” she said carefully.

“Ok! Then let’s start there!” Anna said with encouragement, “Snow indoors, huh? How’d you do it?”

Elsa held her hands out, unable to hide how much they were trembling. “L…like this,” she said as she turned her hands over each other. A ball of shimmering magic began to manifest between them, growing brighter and spilling loose snowflakes onto the ground as it expanded in size. Anna found herself unable to look away. It was magic she had never seen before, so much more captivating and amazing than anything produced from a wand. She grew up in a world with mythical creatures, magic, and wonder but just that one orb of winter magic was otherworldly to her. But then, just when she thought it couldn’t get better, Elsa flung both arms up, throwing the orb high up toward the ceiling. There, it exploded like a massive firework, sending intricate snowflakes flying through the air. As each one landed, little piles of snow appeared, and very quickly the room was a winter wonderland.

“Amazing,” she breathed as she watched the falling snow.

Elsa observed her sister taking in her magic with as much awe as a schoolgirl and found herself suddenly pulled back to their childhood. Back when magic was magic and not some dangerous force capable of stealing away everyone she ever loved. Back when they knew no hardships and could easily find more joy in the world than trials. Back when they were free to just be themselves, no reputations or personal limits to uphold.

For the first time in years Elsa felt like a kid again. For the first time in years, she felt a real, genuine smile growing on her face.

“You think that’s good? Watch this,” she said excitedly. Without hesitation, she stomped her foot into the ground, forcing magic to spill out over the floor. As it spiralled out from around her, ice coated the stone tiles until the whole room was one large skating rink.

Anna found herself sliding around on the slippery surface without even having to move, but before she could do anything else, with another flick of Elsa’s wrist, icy magic circled around her feet, forming skates under her shoes. “Whoa, ok, that…that was really cool, Elsa,” she said nervously, “But I don’t really…”

One look down and she saw Elsa had made her own skates as well. Suddenly, without warning and most certainly without any flinching, uncertainty, or doubt, Elsa took Anna’s hands in hers. “Come on!” she cried happily, “I can teach you!”

Anna wasn’t entirely sure where this new Elsa came from but she was too overjoyed to question it, instead allowing herself to be pulled along across the ice, laughing the whole way.

What followed could only be described as fun, just pure, unadulterated fun. As they skated, Anna lost her balance and ended up in a snow pile. Before Elsa could help her up, Anna managed to nail her with a snowball, and skating turned into a massive snowball fight. After they had tired themselves out, they collapsed together in the snow, giggling and grinning in a way neither of them had in ages. Anna started to make a snow angel first, then Elsa followed her lead.

They got up to admire their work, and before Elsa knew it, Anna rushed forward and threw her arms around her. Laughter turned to something more as it started to sink in for both of them. They hadn’t done anything like this - as sisters - in years. Neither thought they’d ever do this again. Yet here, in the room that only appears when it’s needed, they proved themselves wrong. And as they embraced each other, tears of joy flowing and smiles that felt so foreign on their faces, both silently made a vow to never forget this moment.

“Thank you, Elsa,” Anna uttered, hugging her sister just a little tighter as she spoke, “It was truly magical.”

“I should be thanking you,” Elsa replied with a nervous laugh, “You reminded me how much fun my magic could be…” But then she stiffened, and pulled away slowly. She glanced around the room, a frown overtaking her smile, and in a lost little voice completely void of all the confidence she just had moments ago, she admitted, “But… I don’t know how to thaw it.”

Anna could see worry and panic slowly creeping up into Elsa’s expression. The longer she looked around at all the ice and snow covering the room, the more her hands started to tremble as she fidgeted them in front of her. Her breathing grew harder, more frantic, and, counterproductively, snow flurries she wasn’t in command of began to form around her.

Anna rushed forward and without thinking took Elsa’s hands in hers. They were ice cold, and somehow getting colder, but she didn’t let go even despite Elsa’s horrified expression staring down at her action. “Hey, look at me,” Anna said firmly, waiting until she had Elsa’s full attention. When Elsa finally pulled her eyes up to meet her sister’s, Anna told her with the utmost sincerity, “I know you can do it.”

“I…” Elsa stammered. Something about her eyes was wrong. They weren’t focused, instead lost in a sight only she could see. Anna had a sinking feeling her memories from the accident in their childhood had come back to haunt her. “I…I can’t…”

“Then you don’t have to,” Anna told her, never letting go despite the biting cold, “It doesn’t have to be today, Elsa. You did amazing, what you’ve already done. So what if you can’t thaw stuff yet? That’s what the fire-making charm is for.”

Somehow, through all her panic, that joke managed to reach Elsa and she choked out a small laugh. But her smile faded away quickly. “I should…I should know how,” she said in defeat, “I used to know…”

At this, Anna frowned. “You used to know?” she asked, “What did you do before to make things thaw? Can you remember?”

Elsa shook her head quickly. “I…I don’t… I could just make the snow go away,” she replied hesitantly, “We would finish playing, and before we’d sneak back to our beds, I’d just…make it go away.”

“Did you have to think about anything in particular? What if it’s like the Patronus charm?” Anna pushed gently, “Ice seems to form on its own when you’re scared or angry, so what if it thaws by thinking happy thoughts?”

Elsa looked around the room again. “I…I don’t think it works like that, Anna…”

“Just try, for me?” Anna gave her sister’s hands a little squeeze in comfort, then released them. “If it doesn’t work, then I’ll break out the fire charm I just learned. But I really think you can do it if you do the same thing you do with your Patronus charm.”

Elsa had both hands clasped together, but slowly she let go and extended both arms out on either side. She closed both eyes tight, her face contorted slightly in her intense concentration. She thought of Anna, just as she did for her Patronus. She thought about all the joy her sister brought her, how she was always exuding light and life when Elsa’s world seemed so miserable.

It didn’t seem to be working. She could feel, very faintly, her magic that resided in the ice and snow around them, but it was like it was ignoring her. She opened one eye slightly to steal a glance at Anna, only to see her sister watching her with so much hope and encouragement in her expression. Anna’s faith in her was unyielding, stronger than it ever had been before, and Elsa felt something stir. She felt her heart warm, soaring with emotion as she realized why she always turned to thoughts of her sister when she needed it. It could be summed up in one little statement that she wished she said more often, that she will try to say more often:

“I love you, Anna.”

Suddenly it was like someone had just flicked a light switch. In an instant, she could feel every particle, every snowflake of her magic in the room. Every ounce of it was listening, now, waiting for her instruction. She hadn’t felt this in years, but it was familiar. It was truly what power felt like. It was like how she channelled magic through her wand. It was control. And with that control, she could give a command:

Thaw.

The snow and ice started to break apart, turning into glowing snowflakes rising up toward the ceiling. The higher they got, the more the light faded, until there was nothing left. No snow. No ice. It wasn’t even cold.

Before Elsa could even open her eyes or lower her arms, Anna had rushed forward to smother her in a tight hug. And for once, Elsa didn’t flinch. Instead she wrapped her arms around her sister and hugged just as hard. Anna choked out a half laugh, half sob of joy. “I knew you could do it,” she breathed, “I knew you could.”

“I…I couldn’t have done it without you,” Elsa replied, “I really couldn’t have. I can’t thank you enough.”

Anna pulled back so she could look her sister tearfully in the eyes. “I’m so proud of you, Elsa,” she said softly.

Elsa’s grin only grew, but before she could respond, a loud noise startled them apart. They both turned to look toward the source, and realized that the entrance to the room was opening up. Before either of them could do anything about hiding, the rest of Dumbledore’s Army entered the room, Harry and the gang in the lead.

Everyone stopped the moment they spotted Elsa.

“What is she doing here?” Ginny demanded as she moved around Harry.

“Look, guys,” Anna said, taking a defensive stand in front of her sister, “It’s fine. She won’t tell anyone.”

“But she’s a Slytherin,” Ron retaliated.

“But she’s a good Slytherin,” Anna insisted, “Besides, she’s been helping me. And she might be able to help you, Harry.”

Harry didn’t seem to be one way or the other, his face relatively neutral in expression. But he was intrigued by that. “What do you mean?” he asked, speaking to Anna but eyes focusing on the shy Slytherin taking shelter behind her sister.

“Well,” Anna began, deflating slightly when she realized just how many people were glaring at the two of them. She felt Elsa take her hand in hers, and with a quick look back, she felt her confidence return. “She knows how to cast a Patronus. A really powerful one at that. She’s been teaching me.”

“Really?” Ginny scoffed incredulously, “She can cast a Patronus?” There were quite a few murmurs from the crowd, all expressing similar disbelief.

“Alright, alright,” Hermione commanded over everyone. Once she had quiet, she continued, “The Patronus charm is extremely difficult. You’re telling us that she can cast it?” While she seemed a little more convinced than the rest of the crowd, one could tell by her tone that even Hermione was skeptical.

“I believe it,” Harry stated simple, gaining shocked looks from everyone.

“What?” Ron hissed, “How can you think that someone like her can-”

“You mean someone who repeatedly rivals Hermione in grades and has an incredible way with a wand?” Harry cut in, “Yeah, it’s pretty easy.” He then turned to Elsa, and added, “But maybe you should prove it.”

Elsa felt her heart stop for a moment, and she was suddenly hyper-aware of all the judging, doubting eyes boring into her. She found herself nearly petrified in fear, but then Anna squeezed her hand. When their eyes met, Anna whispered, “You got this.” She then let go and backed up a little, to give her sister some space.

Elsa gulped nervously, but still shakily took out her wand. She could hear Ginny and the others scoffing and making comments.

‘Breathe,’ she told herself, ‘Think of Anna. Do this for her.’

Elsa shot her sister a brief glance, and then with a flick of her wand, said, “Expecto Patronum!”

Light burst forth from her wand, twisted and twirling around through the air before it formed a neat little coil on the floor at her feet. The coil moved, before revealing itself to be a small cobra, calming rearing back to get a better look at the group of students.

“Whoa,” Ron gasped despite himself, “She can produce a Patronus! …And it’s a snake.”

“A little one at that,” Ginny said with an unimpressed sigh.

“This is nothing,” Anna said excitedly, “Elsa. Can you make it bigger? Like you did before?”

Elsa looked to her sister with mild alarm. She then looked at her Patronus. The cobra looked back at her and blinked.

“That’s…impossible,” Hermione began, “I’ve never heard of someone being able to change the shape of their Patronus…”

“Well, you’re about to see it!” Anna proclaimed, “Go on, Elsa!”

“Alright, I…I can try,” Elsa stammered. She thought about Anna again, allowing herself to feel that same protective energy she felt the day she and her sister were attacked by Dementors. She felt her magic inside shift, whipping up like the wind in a winter storm. But that energy only worked with her, went into the charm, and as she waved her wand the little cobra quickly surged forward, spiralling around her and producing more and more light. The light trails spread out even further, circling around herself and Anna, until the Patronus reformed as a massive snake, towering over everyone in the room.

Everyone jumped back in alarm. Some even drew their wands for protection. The only one who wasn’t afraid was Harry, who was merely grinning from ear to ear. “You’re full of surprises, Arendelle,” he said with a small laugh, “I’d love to see a Dementor go up against that.”

“Oh, it’s really fun to watch,” Anna piped up, “You know, if Dementors weren’t also terrifying.”

Elsa felt a smile growing on her face. With another wave of her wand, the giant cobra dissolved into light trails again, which dissipated as they spun around her until they reformed back into the small little cobra from earlier. With one final flick of its tongue, it disappeared completely.

“And that’s why I asked her to teach me,” Anna stated triumphantly.

Most of the other students nodded in agreement. Ginny still seemed skeptical. Hermione appeared to be struggling to hide her shock, but despite herself gave Elsa a respectful nod. Ron muttered grumpily, “It was still a snake…”

“What it is doesn’t matter,” Harry said simply, “What matters is that she can do it. And bloody amazingly, at that.” Turning to Elsa, he added, “I’d be more than happy to have your help, if you’re willing to help, that is.”

“That means no telling anyone,” Ron interjected, “Especially anyone from your House.”

“Especially Malfoy,” Ginny added with a grimace.

Elsa cast a glance at Anna. With a smile, she assured them, “I would be more than happy to outright lie to Malfoy’s face about this.”

“Then it’s settled,” Harry declared, before turning to the rest of the Army behind him, “Let’s get started.”

Within only a few minutes, the Room was positively alive with spells as students practiced what they’ve learned. Today it was the Patronus charm, and Harry had gotten right to work in teaching everyone the proper method. As he circled the room giving instruction, Elsa was assisting individuals who were having trouble.

Anna at first merely watched her older sister giving Colin Creevey some pointers. Seeing Elsa now, so confident and warm with the other students, so comfortable in her own skin, filled Anna’s heart with pride. For the first time, Anna truly felt like she had her sister back, finally free from the fear and cold Elsa had been dwelling in for years.

Anna glanced down at her wand. She remembered all that had transpired that day, all the things she and Elsa did that only reaffirmed just how much better things were between them. She remembered Elsa’s joy. She remembered her own joy. She was Elsa’s sun, and Elsa was hers.

With that, Anna took her wand and, now with more confidence than she ever had before, said proudly: “Expecto Patronum!”

From where Elsa was, her focus was initially on Colin. The younger boy was just starting to produce streaks of light from his wand, and it was starting to take form as Elsa encouraged him. But then his - and every other student’s - concentration was broken by a single, mighty roar.

All heads turned to the source of the sound, and Elsa couldn’t hold the smile on her face when she spotted Anna standing there, partially in pride and partially in shock, staring at a large, silvery lioness still attached to her wand by a few remaining tendrils of light.

“Why am I not surprised?” Ginny commented humorously.

Elsa wasted no time to rush up to Anna and envelope her in a tight hug.

“Elsa,” Anna gasped, pointing to the lion in astonishment, “I did it!”

Elsa laughed and hugged her sister harder. “I can see that,” she said, “I’m so proud of you, Anna. I knew you could do it.”

“I have you to thank,” Anna told her, wiping away a few tears in her eyes, “I really couldn’t have done it without you.”

Elsa pulled back to cast her sister a warm smile. Anna returned the expression. Anna’s Patronus then approached them to seemingly rubbing its body against Anna’s legs, purring loudly, causing the pair to break into joyous laughter.

From across the room, Harry, Ron, and Hermione watched their reaction. Harry merely grinned, feeling his heart warm upon seeing the sisters reconnecting. Ron, meanwhile, was frowning in deep thought. “Hang on,” he muttered, “So if her Patronus is a lion, and her Patronus is a snake, and she’s in Gryffindor and she’s in Slytherin, then…”

“I’m sure it’s just a coincidence, Ron,” Hermione interrupted with a sigh.

Harry chuckled to himself. Then, in the lull, he heard something that wiped the smile off his face. It was a low thud coming from one of the mirrored walls.

Thud.

That time it was louder. More students turned to look at the wall in concern.

THUD.

Dust sprinkled down from the ceiling, and one of the ancient mirrors on the wall cracked.

Suddenly, with a little puff of stone dust and glass, a small hole appeared in the wall. Harry only had time to briefly make eye contact with the vindicated person on the other side, before there was a bright flash and the whole wall exploded.

As the dust settled, everyone in the Room groaned in dismay. There on the other side was Filch, Malfoy, and his cronies, all looking very pleased with themselves. But none were quite as smug as the woman in the fluffy, pink blazer.

“Well, now,” Umbridge crooned with a fake smile so sweet it could give one a toothache, “What do we have here?”

[unclefungusthegoat]

Far Cry 5 Theory: Joseph Knowingly Manipulated His Family To Represent the Four Horsemen... And Knew That They Would Die For It

Hi all! This is LONG- 1977 words plus pictures, but I hope it’s worth the read! This is just my opinion! Also, I would just like to say now that I love Joseph, and I’m sorry.

Watching back the eulogies Joseph delivers after his sibling’s deaths has left me wondering…

How did Joseph know that their deaths were the seals being opened?

Because I can’t get the notion out of my head, that if Joseph indeed engineered the ‘Collapse’, as is one theory, or even if he simply had heard that it was coming, then surely he had an opportunity to orchestrate all of the symbolism that surrounded it?

For example, grooming himself and his siblings to represent the Four Horsemen?

In the Book of Joseph, he writes:

“The Voice did not show me exactly how it would all end.”

And, interestingly:

“I hope the Voice condemned each person to the ending he or she fears most, to know that it would take back what it had given without pity in a final multi-pronged curse. It was inspired by the cruelty of mankind, we who kill, lie, and steal what others hold most sacred. No one is innocent. Each person will experience the end they dread.

Joseph was never told that this event would take the form of the Horsemen from the Book of Revelation, but that is how it comes to pass.

Surely if Joseph believed that God gave him a revelation, then he would turn to the scripture named for such a prophecy to make sense of it? The scripture he would remember his Father ranting about when he was a child?

And he then made a conscious choice for that to be the narrative?

And I believe that he manipulated his siblings into fulfilling the roles of the Horsemen, knowing that it would eventually lead to their deaths, because this was the end he dreaded most.

JOSEPH - CONQUEST

Joseph took the role of Conquest- to conquer those who want to be saved. Conquest is sometimes interpreted as Christ himself, and it’s very likely that Joseph, the ignored middle child, forsaken by the world, would want to be seen as a Christ-like figure- noticed, listened to, worshipped, loved.

He craved what every cult leader desires.

Power over the weak, over people like Jacob, John and Faith.

I do not think he sought Jacob and John with the intention of making them his Horseman, but came to the decision upon the discovery of John’s career and subsequently, Jacob’s military file.

It was a coincidence that John, the lawyer, could be represented by Scales, of Famine or Justice. And Jacob with the Sword of War. But Joseph would see this as proof that his brothers were a vital part of God’s plan- and must then truly be the Horsemen.

It all fit the narrative he chose to believe.

And so he set out to shape his siblings into those roles.

The Herald’s symbols, that correspond with those of the Horsemen, are built  into the Project’s architecture, meaning that they have been part of the cult’s symbolism since long before the game’s events.

Surely Joseph must have asked them to adopt those symbols?

And then he used their assigned Horsemen not only as inspiration for their jobs within the Project, but also for how to manipulate them into performing those roles.

JACOB - WAR

Joseph took advantage of Jacob’s trauma he suffered during WAR, to shape him into the Red Horse.

Jacob knew of Joseph’s role for him and I think he’d known for a very long time- since being reunited with his brothers.

He talks to the Deputy directly in game of how his purpose is to act as Joseph’s sacrifice. He knows exactly how it will end for him, and his words- ‘you did everything he said you would’- just confirms this. Joseph has told him that the Lamb will open the seven seals.

Jacob was a hollow shell of who he once was in the homeless shelter. It was Joseph who nursed him back to health, feeding his broken mind with his propaganda, with the Horseman narrative. It can only be assumed that he convinced Jacob that his death, as well as John’s, would be necessary to wage war on a world of evil, manipulating Jacob’s mindset from the military that sacrifices must be made. Why else would Jacob allow Joseph to manipulate their youngest brother?

The weak ‘have their purpose’. So what if, after everything they went through, the Seeds think of themselves as weak, and their purpose is as Horsemen, as sacrifices to bring about Eden, where the strong will live on?

Jacob is the least religious of the brothers and so whether he truly believes himself a ‘Horseman’ is questionable. He simply views himself as a brother doing his duty, supporting Joseph in this new war against the corrupted world.

And if that means death, so be it.

JOHN - FAMINE

Joseph took advantage of John’s need for love- he starved him of it, created John’s own personal FAMINE, so that John would pursue the path that Joseph laid out for him- becoming the Black Horse.

Joseph directly warns John of his own impending death. There is no indication of when the voicemail was left, but I believe that it’s an old message from before the Reaping, and it was Joseph trying to prevent John from being killed at the incorrect moment. If he antagonised the Fall’s End residents too much, Joseph knows that they would take him out.

He cannot let that happen.

The Lamb must be the one to kill John.

But Joseph warns him of his death again at the river, when he tells John that the Deputy must atone - that the Lamb must stop opening the seals - or the gates will be shut to him. In other words, he must stop the Collapse or he will die. He knows John will not be able to achieve this, but insisting that John continue to interact with the Deputy, promising love and reward if they atone, just ensures that John will die by their hand.

However John, despite his obvious intelligence, seems unaware that he will not live to see Eden. His confident bravado, his triumphant swaggering, his fear of failing Joseph- this is not the behaviour of a man who knows he is doomed.

As he dies, he tells the Deputy that ‘We had a plan’. He says that everyone is ‘already safe’, no doubt including himself in that. Joseph, after all, had already saved him once. Why wouldn’t he save him again?

John is a coward, a man who never gets his hands dirty unless he can fully control the situation. A man so used to speaking empty words, that he probably promised to follow Joseph ‘unto death’ without truly considering what that meant, without believing that he would actually ask that of him. And Joseph could not be sure that John would see it through if he knew the truth. So instead he promises John what he is starved of, love, knowing that he will pursue it to his death.

FAITH - DEATH

Joseph threatened DEATH to Faith if she did not become the Pale Horse- the same fate that had befallen the first Faiths.

Why does the Project need a Faith? In the Book of Joseph, he never actually justifies why the “role” exists. The general feeling is that she is used by Joseph to replace his wife, or his daughter. But, here’s the thing:

Joseph says that the Voice asked him to recruit John and Jacob. But then he goes on to conscientiously seek out a Faith. To me, this reads as Joseph making a definitive decision to begin putting everything in place for his Collapse to be initiated-

By preparing a fourth Horseman.

Rachel presents two versions of her story and she tells them both as the truth.

The Faith who she speaks of first - the ‘saved’ Faith - believes she has been given a ‘purpose’, a new chance at life. She ‘no longer wished to die’. If Rachel knew of her newly found purpose as Horseman and sacrifice from the beginning, then this is contradictory. She would not have willingly agreed to the role if she knew it would end in death.

So I feel both of her stories are true. That she felt ‘saved’ when she joined the cult but was ultimately threatened into becoming Faith.

And I think Rachel only discovered her role as Horseman when it was too late for her to escape. She may have learned from messages left by the previous Faiths, those who had already been killed for refusing to be the Pale Horse. She may have only realised during the game’s events.

But she says to the Deputy ‘It was always going to end this way’. She knew it was an inevitability. And saying those words is a confirmation to herself that Joseph had always intended her to die for his vision.

SO WHY?

I believe that Joseph loves his brothers.

But he believes so fiercely in the Voice that he murdered his own daughter to prove his loyalty. It is not a stretch of the imagination that he would sacrifice his siblings too. They are tools by which God’s word will come to pass. They are his ultimate test of faith.

And yes, he cries over their deaths. But he never truly does anything to prevent them from being harmed. He encourages them to provoke and convert the Deputy, knowing that it is futile, since the dream of reaching Eden relies on those seals being opened.

Including the Fifth seal.

If his Collapse and his new Eden were to come to pass, then the Fifth seal must be broken.

He expected his brothers to swear loyalty unto death to him. He asked the same of Faith, when he made her take the leap.

The Fifth seal is of martyrs before the altar, ‘the souls of them that were slain for the word of God’.

The most faithful.

Who else would he have imagined these martyrs to be?

THE EULOGIES

Joseph may knowingly have sent his siblings to their deaths, but I don’t think he did so without emotion. Just look at the eulogies:

Just like so much of what John says in game, Joseph, in John’s eulogy, could be projecting his own sins onto the Deputy:

‘He was easily preyed upon… those responsible for his death will be punished’- Joseph could be acknowledging his own manipulation of John and pledging his intent to atone for that sin.

Greg Bryk has said that Joseph has empathy:

‘...he was a weapon without a purpose. A warrior without a legacy.... You are his legacy. All of you willing to protect our family from the Collapse… Jacob’s death will not be in vain.’ - Joseph acknowledges Jacob’s purpose to protect (by being a sacrifice), and that he gave him this purpose. Did he believe that an act of mercy, giving Jacob what he truly desired- peace in death?

And for Faith:

‘I put my faith inside her and she became angelic’ - Joseph is admitting to putting his ideology in her head, and that he views her as otherworldly, holy, made that way by his own hand.

SUMMARY

Joseph wanted to see the Day of Judgement incinerate the world that treated him so badly and what better way to enact his revenge than to literally become the Horseman who unleash horrors upon the earth?

But he doesn’t consider himself perfect. The eulogies prove it. He knows he is not innocent and will face judgement from God, along with the rest of mankind.

And so the loss of his brothers? 

They were the price he CHOSE to believe he must pay, the price the Voice demanded of him so that he, always overlooked, ignored, forsaken, may become a God in his new Eden.

Just as he wrote in his sacred book:

“Humanity is incredibly imaginative when it comes to self-destruction”.

And their deaths were, as he had foretold would come to all sinners:

The end that he dreaded most.

[ticklefits]

i’m still cryin to bud it’s okay :,) so the prompt is- keith and lance are basically best friends. not in a relationship, not in love, just great friends. then allura sacrifices herself. lance is messed up over it and doesnt leave his room for god knows how long. keith visits once and, seeing his friend in this state, becomes scared for the boy. without thinking he turns into his galra form without knowing and lance just tickles him and smiles cause he’s purring and gigglin andit makes his day

sorry it took so long to get this done , i was in the middle of moving and figuring things out with my job but ! here it is , hope u like it ! and thanks again for the prompt sweetie c’:

AO3 LINK !voltron | keith & lance ( platonic ) | words : 1363 

“How many times have you listened to this song, Lance?”

Despite the encasing darkness of the bedroom, the same Bebe Rexha song lulling from the stereo sitting on the nearby desk and Lance’s closed, strained eyes, it was easy to depict who’s slightly accusatory voice played in his ears. He doesn’t bother lifting his body, aching and fatigued from having been an immovable object under the covers for what felt years.

“…Don’t worry about it. What’re you doing here..?”

Keith scoffs lightly, having expected that sort of answer. “Don’t I get a hello first?”

“You didn’t give me one.”

“Fair. Rachel let me up. Told me that our sharpshooter still isn’t really feeling like his old self.”

It was Lance’s turn to scoff, complete with a tired roll of his eyes. Sharpshooter, huh? He sure didn’t feel as cool and badass as his old nicknamed suggested he was. In fact, he probably couldn’t have felt worse.

“I’m fine. Nothing to worry about.” 

It was one of the saddest lies Keith’s heard Lance try on him so far and truthfully? It caused his heart to sink. Through all of their experiences, Lance was one of the people he was the most proud of. He had blossomed so much from the beginning of their journey: from a mouthy, pride-laden, overconfident amateur pilot to someone trustworthy, intelligent, and cares so much for his team. And while it took Keith awhile to really see the development of these qualities in Lance, he is definitely one of the people that’s come to cherish him and appreciate what he’s done for them. It’s also why he’s here now, taking a break from the blade’s affairs in order to help his friend. Whether he wanted him to or not.

“Lance… C'mon buddy, just talk to me.” Keith takes a slow stride to the bed, settling on the edge of it gently so as not to startle or disturb Lance too much.

There’s silence and then a small sigh as Lance finally forces his drained frame to rise, just a little bit, so he can turn towards Keith and meet his gaze and what Keith witnesses only furthers his own distress. Even in the darkness ( perhaps thanks to his Galra genes ), he can clearly make out the bloodshot whites of his eyes & how dulled the sapphire color has become. There’s a bit of dried drool on the side of his lips and his hair’s a total mess; this is all worse than Keith could’ve imagined.

“–Hey…”

“There’s nothing to talk about, Keith. You.. already know.”

So his suspicions were confirmed. He is still torn from what happened with Allura. “Lance… I’m so sorry about Allura, we all are. But, you’re worrying people.”

“I'm… worrying people?” The tone of the query comes off a tad more .. aggressive, than Lance probably meant it to be, but he couldn’t help it, not with subtle agitation already begin to bubble in his chest.

“Well, yeah – I mean, all of us, we know you’re upset about Allura, but you gotta understand that moping in your room.. in the dark.. isn’t doing you or anyone else any favors. You’re wallowing. And if you keep going like this, you’re gonna end up.. –”

“End up like what exactly? Like you when Shiro disappeared? Obsessive and reckless and biting people’s heads off? Well, newsflash Keith, I’m not like you. Besides, who’re you to tell me how I should or shouldn’t feel? You never stopped looking for Shiro or gave up hope that Shiro would come back, even when everything seemed lost… and in the end, you got him back. I don’t get to have that luxury, you understand? I have to deal with that fact that Allura said goodbye, right in front of me! Without her… without her,  Shiro wouldn’t be alive, I wouldn’t be alive!”

At that point, Keith’s hoisted himself from the bed, slamming a gloved palm down on the blanket that surprisingly seemed to have enlarged a bit.

“You don’t think I know that, Lance?!” Keith nearly growls and Lance can swear he notices fangs elongating as he barks back at him. “Allura did so much for us, for all of us! Each and every person on Earth owes everything to her, but do you really think this is what Allura would’ve wanted you to feel, would’ve wanted you to be, about her passing?”

Okay.. now his skin’s painting over itself in a shade of purple. Lavender, maybe? No, no.. too dark for that.. maybe royal purple…

“–Keith–”

“No, seriously Lance! It’s not fair that me and everyone else here are trying to go about our lives, like Allura wanted us to with her sacrifice, but you just want to sit in the dark and sulk instead of being the greatness she saw in you! That we all.. see in you– ah!”

His statement is abruptly disrupted by something of a squeaky yelp as he felt curious digits stroking at new appendages atop his head; Lance might have gotten distracted by the Galran features that have decided to show themselves during Keith’s own outburst.

“.. Dude,” the brunet begins, soft awe and bewilderment replacing the anguish within oceanic sight, “when… did you start growing Galra ears?”

A sigh pulls from slightly flared nostrils, cheeks flushing as Lance’s fingers refuse to rest from touching him. “It’s.. not something that I can fully control. Yet. A-anyway, that’s not the point he–hehehere!” A palm swiftly raised to cover his mouth, but the giggle already did the damage. Within seconds, there’s a familiar sparkle of mischief glimmering in Lance’s eyes, the corner of his lips perking into something of a half smile as he shifts his weight to lean further and softly tickle along the shell of ears, vibrating from the rim towards the inner tenderness. The reaction is almost instant.

“L-Lance! No, knock it ohohohoff!” Keith squirms, attempting to shove the other back and away from his sensitive ears, but Lance anticipates this and quickly swerves to avoid the hands, only to better put his own to work. He migrates between small spots that he notices gives off more prominent reactions and before he realizes it himself, he’s grinning brightly and even releasing a giggle here or there.

“Keith, you feel like a teddy bear, man. This is ridiculous.” But the joy in his tone & beam of his expression is enough to keep Keith from cursing at him for teasing him like this, no matter how abashing.

“Sh-shut uhuhuhup!” He retorts, squeaking and un-intimidating despite growling underneath those words.

Wait… that’s not a growl..

“Ohhh my god, you’re purring now too?” He is way too amused by all of this new information, but he can’t deny how much fun he’s having. Keith discerns this as well and though it’s obviously at his own expense, he doesn’t find himself in real disdain at the situation.

“Lance! Aahaa– stop, stohohop already!” Even Keith didn’t realize how ticklish his Galran ears would be… and now this goofball has that knowledge too. He can only cringe at the future ordeals this was bound to bring; however, he feels Lance’s fingers start to slow and eventually, halt altogether. Blessed with a moment of fresh breath, Keith glances up towards his friend, studying his face to catch any signal of emotional relapse. He flushes with relief when Lance still bares that sweet smile of his.

“… Thanks Keith. Seriously.”

Keith’s own lips lift into another smile, genuine in his subtle delight. “Don’t mention it, Lance. We’re a team. Always will be.”

“So, does that mean you’ll let me tickle you whenever I need a pick-me-up, teammate? ‘Cause that was pretty funny.”

“Not on your life, buddy.”

It was Lance’s turn to let out a laugh, soft and almost timid as it was.

“But… for real man. Allura’s still here with us. Still watching over us and.. The whole universe. She’ll always stay with us. You know that right..?”

Lance turns, moving to push aside the curtains of the window just above his bed, permitting illumination to wash over the both of them from a gorgeous sky painted an array of pinks and baby blues.

“Yeah… Yeah, I know.”

[angelstrenchcoat-67]

Scared, Winchester?

Pairing: Dean x Reader

Warnings: Swearing

Summary: After a series of misterious deaths happened at a Harry Potter Convention, Y/N and Sam take it upon themselves to stop whatever is causing it, along side a very reluctant Dean.

"What the hell?" Dean frowns as I hand him the bag with his new costum. 

"It was the last one they had" I bite my lip as Sam tries to hold back a laugh, pushing his fake glasses deeper into his nose. 

"And why do I have to use it?" Dean looks back at Sam who is already fully dressed in his costum. "Why does he get to be the main dude?"

"It was the only one big enough and even the pants are still a little short" Sam shows his uncovered ankle to Dean.

"Change" I look back at Dean, fixing the brown curly wig over my head. "We are already late"

Dean grunts as he stands up, picking the bag from the table before walking out to his room.

"You are evil" Sam shakes his head, knowing that there were a lot more costums left.

"Like he's ever going to find out" I shrug, knowing Dean is never going to know I did this on purpose. "Besides, you are enjoying this too"

A few minutes pass until we hear Dean's shout through the bunker. "Do I really need to wear the wig?"

"Yes" I yell back before Sam can say anything. "Nobody is going to know who you are if you don't wear it"

"God, how I wish we had a camara right now" Sam tries to swallow down his chuckle as Dean comes back, wearing the black cloak over the grey woolen jumper with the Slytherin badge.

I bring my hand to my mouth, trying to cover the grin over my face as I watch Dean struggle with his platinum wig. "Need a hand?"

"Shut up" Dean mumbles as he grabs the car keys. "Let's get this over with"

-

No words in the world can explain the excitement Sam and I are feeling as we absorb everthing that's going on. There's a sorting hat event going on in the main room as well as a wand-picking gig at a near by tent.

"Dean, pleaseee" I make puppy eyes as we spot a Butterbeer stand. "I want"

"You already had two, Hermiannoying" Dean tries to glare at me but ends up sighing. "Fine, but this is the last one"

"Thanks" I stand up on my tip toes, giving Dean a slight kiss on the cheeks. "Besides we have to wait for Sam to come from his EMF round" 

We make line at the stand as a few girls walk pass us, obviously checking out Dean. I mean, he does make a really handsome Draco, even with the cheap wig.

"Who do you think Hermione should've ended with, Ron or Harry?" Dean asks as we wait. "I heard some girls talking about it"

"Ron, obviously" I answer as we take a few steps. "Everyone says she deserved to end up with the hero but I think what people are missing out is that in fact Hermione is also a hero and she doesn't need to date the main character to get the validation she deserves. She saves Harry's life more times that I can count and she is basically an orphan at some point so she get's Harry in that sense so they are each other's family, not love interests"

"You have a strong opinion" Dean raises his eyebrows when he notices how carried away I got. 

"I had a lot of free time when I was in middle school" I shrug as we finally reach the end of the line. "Three cups please" I ask the lady behind the counter as Dean hands her the money.

We wait for her to bring us our order as Dean plays with the hood of my cloak pushing it over my head. The lady finally comes back with our drinks so we thank her, making room for the people next in line.

"Hey, guys" Sam appears from behind us so I hand him his cup. "So check this out, all of our victims went to the same tour they offer here to see some restricted areas with cool stuff, like getting flying lessons, eating at the Great Hall"

"Yeah, so did every dumbledork here" Dean rolls his eyes so I shove him slightly because I also happen to be a dumbledork.

"They are called potterheads, and I thought it would be a good idea to check it out" Sam shifts slightly when Dean glares back at him "Okay maybe I just signed us up because I want to see those things, but still, it could be good for the case"

"Fine" I try to hold back my excitement when Dean finally agrees. "But I'm taking off this stupid cloak, it's really hot in here"

We walk towards the place Sam just came from as Dean makes a show of removing his cloak. There's a lady waiting for us at the entrance, holding three maps for us. 

"Hi, I'm Kelly and I'll be taking you on a very magical journey" She smiles brightly at us, almost too enthusiastic for me. "So let's see who do we have here with us today"

"Hermione, Harry" She looks between me and Sam and the moves to Dean. Her eyes frown a little before tilting her head to the side. "Ellen Degeneres?"

"What? No!" Dean immediately protests as Sam and I let out a very loud laugh. "I'm that spoiled dude, the one with the daddy issues"

"I was joking" Kelly places her hand over Dean's shoulder and I suddenly I don't like her that much. "Of course I know a Draco when I see one, mostly when they are as handsome as you"

"Okay, maybe we can start" I take a step in front of Dean, smiling forcefully at Kelly. "We don't want to make the next group late"

"Oh, sure" She blinks harshly, taking a step back. 

"Chill, Y/N" Dean puts both of his arms around my shoulders. "There's enough Draco to go around"

"Really cute of you to think that I was jealous" I take his arms off of me, even though I don't want to. "I just want to fly the brooms"

-

"Here we have a replica of the Hungarian Horntail that Harry had to face at the Triwizard Tournament" Kelly points at what seems like a real dragon, even though the sign in front of the metal cage says it's a robot.

"Can we touch it?" I ask, taking a step closer to the metal doors keeping us separated from the dragon.

"Sure" She smiles before pressing a button in the control center. The dragon moves forward, bowing his head for me to touch it.

I pace my hand over his forehead, feeling the scales under my finger tips. It almost feels too real, too warm for it to be just a mechanical dragon.

"Sam" I whisper only for him to hear as Kelly bats her lashes to Dean. "It looks so real"

"Yeah, isn't it so awesome?" Sam grins when the animal steps back to sit down, growling as he brings his tail around his body.

"No, Sam" I shake my head, looking at the yellow eyes in front of me. "It looks real. Almost too real"

"What are you talking about?" He frowns as I look to the next cage where there's a Norbit replica, spitting fire balls.

"Remember that case you and Dean had a few years ago, the dragons that were kidnapping those girls" Sam stares at me when he realizes where I'm going with this.

"You think that's what's happening here?" He frowns, looking for the journal in the pocket of his cloak. "There's not a pattern between the victims, I mean dragons are known for only choosing women. There were two men among the victims"

"Maybe they were dressed up as female character" I suggest, watching as Dean blushes at something Kelly said. If it wasn't because I'm focused on the mission, I'd be vomiting right now. "Think about it. People come willingly to meet 'robot' dragons, this is the best spot for the real ones to get their victims"

"But why haven't they attacked Kelly?" Sam asks, looking at the redhead as she shows Dean something on the map.

"She's handing them their prey on a silver platter, maybe not on purpose, but still" I look at the first dragon again as he stands up to spread his wings.

"I think we need to look around more. Let's not jump into conclusions" Sam speaks as Kelly and Dean move closer to us, ready to move along. "For all we know, these might just be really good robots"

"How about we go down the Great Hall?" Kelly asks with her chirpy voice which is starting to annoy me.

"Sure, lead the way" Sam starts walking next to her, leaving Dean and I behind.

"So, you and Sam, huh?" Dean swallows as the muscles around his jaw tighten.

"Ew, no" I frown, looking at Sam as he stares at a few brooms in a display window. "He's like my best friend"

"Auch" Dean looks ahead of us, not meeting my eyes.

"Oh, c'mon" I laugh as he pretends to dry a tear from his cheek. "You know with you it's different"

"Different how?" He finally looks down at me, biting his bottom lip.

"Well-"

"Hey, guys! Look at this" Sam calls out and right as he is about to show us something, he falls to the ground.

"What the hell?" I look up only to find Kelly holding a brick which I assume she used to hit Sam. "What are you doing?"

"I was getting bored, he talks a lot" She rolls her eyes as Dean bends down to check on Sam. "Besides, the magic is wearing off so it's time for the sacrifice"

"What are you talking about you crazy bitch?" Dean stands up after making sure Sam is okay. Unconscious but okay.

"The dragons. They are real" I tell Dean making Kelly laugh.

"No, stupid girl. They just seem real" She pulls out a metal cup, like the one Meg used. "I made a deal so I just sacrife a few of these stupid nerds and in return I get actual magic to attract more clients"

"Well, you chose the wrong stupid nerds to mess with" I launch at her but she just waves her hand, sending me across the room.

"Did I forgot to mention that I keep some mojo for myself?" She laughs, closing her hand, making my throat close as well.

Just when I feel like there's no air reaching my lungs, there's a loud bang that leaves my ear stinging.

I look up when Kelly's body falls to the floor, a pool of blood forming around her. Dean stands next to her, holding his gun. "Witch killing bullets. Figured they'd do the trick"

-

"I just got off the phone with Crowley" I walk into the living room as Sam holds an ice pack to his head while Dean gives him a few stitches since the brick caused his head to open a little. "He said that the demon behind that deal is already gone, he made sure of that"

"Crowley, helping so easily?" Dean takes a step back so Sam can stand up.

"He probably wants something in return" I shrug, grabbing a beer before sitting down.

"As much as I want to talk about Crowley, I think I'm going to bed" Sam leaves the ice pack on the table as Deans sits down next to me. "Good night"

"Night" I mumble as he kisses my hair and pats his brother on the shoulder.

Dean and I stay in silence for a couple of minutes, drinking our beer. Right as I'm about to say something, Dean beats me to it.

"So, I looked up that Draco kid" He scratches the back of his neck, almost as if he's nervous. "A lot of people seem to boat him with that Hermione chick"

"Boat?" I frown, not knowing what that's supposed to mean.

"You know, when you like two people together" He explains and I try my hardest not to snort.

"Ship?" I ask, raising my eyebrow as Dean's cheeks turn bright pink.

"Whatever" He mumbles, playing with the glass bottle to hide his embarrassment. "So, I was saying, if whay you wanted was for us to go as a couple, you should've just asked"

"No!" My cheeks are now the ones red and hot. "You wish, Winchester"

"C'mon, just admit it" He leans closer, running his tongue across his lip.

"There's nothing to admit, now if you excuse me" I try to stand up but Dean reacts faster, wrapping his hand around my arm.

He moves too fast so I'm not expecting him when his lips dive for mine, meeting in a warm kiss. His hands move to my face while I try to come to terms with what's happening. When I finally react, I move my hands to his hair as his lips move slowly but firmly against mine.

"I've been dying to do that" He mumbles against my lips as he rests his forehead against mine.

"What stopped you before?" I ask, moving my hands to his neck.

"I was- I-" Dean tries to speak but the words seem to be getting stuck.

"What?" I raise my eyebrow, giving him a quick kiss. "Scared, Winchester?"

————————————————————————

My first Dean x reader! Hope you guys like it :) I have a tag list for Matchmakers but if you want to be tagged in everything I write, let me know! I edited this while I was sleepy so I don’t know if there's some spelling mistakes 😂 I'll double check later.

Tag List:

@fallenangelsneverfade

[immortalpramheda]

The 100 ‘Pandora’s Box’

We pick back up in the bunker, with Kane as one of the combatants. He doesn’t want to fight, but then his survival instincts kick in and he wins. Which, it seems was a little easy, considering the other combatants have been trained to fight and he hasn’t. But we learn that Indra purposely put him up against the weakest, so that he actually stood a chance.

The crowd were not pleased with his win, and Octavia has the final say on what happens to him. Since the crowd were not satisfied, he has to fight again tomorrow. Octavia is very different to six years ago, she’s become so accustomed to this new identity, and it is honestly a little scary.

And as I suspected, Kane was in there for stealing medicine. Except, he wasn’t the one who stole it. Abby was, and Kane took the fall for her. So many parallels to life on the Ark.

It seems that Kane has given up. He used to be so optimistic, but now he is even less of the person he was all those years ago. He refuses to fight. But Octavia is in charge and she makes the rules. She knows he’s covering for someone but he refuses to say who. As cold as Octavia seems, I understand why she’s doing this. She has wholeheartedly taken on Jaha’s advice on how be a leader, and that anyone who does not follow the rules is an enemy. Kane has made himself an enemy of Wonkru, and therefore must face the consequences.

Abby is the one who stole the medicine, but it wasn’t for medical reasons like I thought, she’s addicted to the pills. But Kane, because he loves her, took the fall for her and will continue to do so, even if it costs him his life. He wouldn’t be able to live with himself if something happened to Abby. Their reunion/goodbye scene was heart wrenching.

To further insinuate that Kane has lost all hope, he wonders what they’ve done and do they now even deserve to survive. The person who, last season, was the optimum of hope, the one who believed of a brighter future. Of doing what they had to do in order to survive, and finding their humanity after. He’s not that same person anymore. He doesn’t believe those words anymore, he doesn’t believe in forgiveness for what they’ve done in the past. They can’t keep telling themselves this. No longer can he see a future of redemption with Octavia’s cruel regime in the bunker, and he cannot see hope for the horror that she become and for what she has inflicted on her people. He was unable to conform to Octavia’s cruel dictatorship, and therefore he is an enemy of Wonkru.

Although Indra is seemingly loyal to Octavia, in this case she is on Kane’s side. I have always loved their friendship.

Octavia has put up this facade. She seems to only see darkness, violence and death. But glimmers of hope still show sometimes, especially when she is reunited with her brother. But she is damaged and has fully embraced being Bloodreina, and I fear that she is too far gone now.

I wonder if cannibalism has something to do with the ‘Dark Year’. Maybe at some point, food became so scarce and people were so desperate that they started eating each other. Did lots of people die because of that, not because of the fighting pits?

“And now you’re home.”

After making a deal with Diyoza, Bellamy is allowed to properly reunite with Clarke. This entire scene was perfection, it evoked so many emotions and has pretty much destroyed me. I’m positive that Clarke thought everything that happened was a dream. She’d just been shocked, and it was dark and she was in pain. Then Bellamy appears, silhouetted by the headlights of the rover. Her eyes were watering and she probably couldn’t see properly, and then she probably blacked out from the pain. Next thing she wakes up in a cell, probably disoriented, and would have no reason to believe any of it was real.

But now, when Bellamy appears in the doorway, she blinks a few times, still not believing it. Then he comes to her and helps keep her steady, and her eyes are full of such wonder looking at him, and feeling him there. That he is actually here. That’s he’s home. Their hug melted my heart. It was so beautiful.

I loved the way that they both cling to each other, not quite believing that the other is real. How can it be? After so much pain and loneliness for the past six yers, how are they so lucky to have found each other again?

These two got a moment alone, a moment of pure bliss together. In that moment they believed that maybe everything would be okay. Now that they are both together, now they are both home, maybe there is a chance at peace.

I cannot praise this scene enough. The close ups, the tears falling down their faces, the extreme close ups of their hug, and then the shot of them embraced together, was just everything I wanted and more.

I loved the moment when Raven and Murphy heard Clarke’s voice over the radio. Raven is overcome with so many emotions, she cannot believe that Clarke survived. On the other hand, Murphy can. They have something in common, they have both cheated death and survived.

“Kill the hostage taker and his girlfriend.”

Even Diyoza an McCreary knows whats up. What else could Bellamy and Clarke be to each other. Bellamy threatened to kill 283 people to save just her, and when they reunited they had their hands all over each other. Just look at the way they look at each other. Seriously, how can anyone say they’re platonic?

Some interesting revelations are discovered on the Eligius ship. After doing some research on who the prisoners are, they discover that Diyoza was a Navy Seal and when she was arrested, she was the world’s most wanted terrorist. And the most interesting thing of all, Raven can find the logs for Eligius I, II and IIII, but III is mysteriously missing. Hmm, they are the ship that has Nightblood blood alterations, to handle the radiation of two suns. What could have happened to that ship? Maybe it ended up on another habitable planet. As Earth will probably take a while to completely heal from the second apocalypse, maybe they’ll go to another planet while their old one recovers? Could this be foreshadowing for what is going to happen on the next season perhaps?

Raven and Zeke have not even met yet, but I already ship them. I loved the subtle flirting they were doing, by infiltrating the others hacking. Raven even went as far as to ‘flip him the bird’. These two, I swear! They don’t even know each other but they’re going to fall in love, I just know it. Two very smart and intelligent people, with good hearts and morals, they are meant to be with each other and no one can convince me otherwise.

Kane refuses to fight, making him even more of an enemy of Wonkru. Octavia comes down, ready to show him what happens if you disobey her, but just in time, they’re saved!! The Eligius mining ship has broken thought her roof, and Bellamy and Clarke come down, bathed in sunlight, like angels descending from heaven (which for the people in the bunker, the ground is basically heaven). Bellamy and Octavia reunite! Octavia knew he’d come.

Clarke and Octavia have a brief reunion too, in the only way I ever expect them too. They’ve never been close, they have always had opposing views on things. Grasping each others arms and looking into each others eyes respectfully is exactly the reunion they needed.

A gladiator arena and blood covered floor is not exactly what they expected to find when they dropped in. Bellamy doesn’t know how to process it, and Clarke is clearly uncomfortable with the place she’s walked into.

Another reunion, Clarke and Abby. So many reunions, so many emotions. I think this is just what Abby needs, to be with her daughter and get out of the bunker. I wonder how severe her addiction is, and I hope she will be able to overcome it.

“From the ashes, we will rise.”

I loved the visual of them ascending back up to the ground, a polar opposite of arriving on the ground from the sky. But the same feelings of awe at feeling the sun on their face and breathing in real air.

Bellamy assumed that there would still be 1200 people n the bunker, but there are only 814. That is a huge chunk of them dead. I find it hard to believe that that many would have died just from the gladiator battles. I think the ‘Dark Year’ has something to do with it.

Bellamy talks to Octavia privately. He is obviously not on board with what she was in charge of down there. And when things go sour, Octavia harshly turns the tables and blames Bellamy for everything, as she has done so many times before. As much as that saddens me, none of this was his fault at all, I somewhat understand. She’s been alone, with so much pressure on her for the past few yers. Being Bloodreina was isolating, she’s reluctant to trust anyone or get close to anyone just yet.

Octavia has built up a reputation, and Wonkru (well most of them) are so fiercely loyal to Bloodreina that someone sacrifices himself to save her. Now there is a war, and for Wonkru, it is what they have always wanted. What has always been inside of them, the bunker just suppressed it from them for all those years. And now it is time to fight.

Back in space, Murphy reveals that the real reason he stayed is because he doesn’t want Raven to always be the one who sacrifices herself. For once, he wants to be the selfless one. For the person who has done whatever it takes to survive, this is huge development for him. He is willing to take on the burden instead of her.

After all these emotions, we finally got a lighthearted moment that I couldn’t help but smile at. Raven and Murphy playing soccer, that is something I never through I’d see! They get a few minutes of pure fun and that just made me so happy. And also, Murphy has found a new place to nap, in a cryosleep chamber! He’s obviously bored up there, and fills his time with napping in unconventional places and playing soccer.

But of course, this moment of joy doesn’t last long. Diyoza orders Zeke to open the bay doors, which will kill them. Zeke hesitates for a moment, he is clearly intrigued by this ‘Raven girl’. Diyoza even calls her Zeke’s ‘friend’.

The open doors will not kill the frozen prisoners, and so Raven and Murphy, who are both not ready to die, together they open all of the pods. That forces Diyoza to close the doors or she’ll loose her army. But now, all the prisoners are awake. This is not good at all, and I am very worried for them now.

And now shit has really gotten real. I knew this relative peace would not last long, but this all happened so fast. Diyoza retracts her previous offer of ‘peace’, and now the prisoners are taking Eden for themselves, and everyone else has to stay in the ruins of Polis. Raven and Murphy are safe as long as they oblige by their rules. And the other part of the deal is that they want Abby. McCreary needs a cure for something. Could it have something to do with the strange parasite type thing under someones skin in the next episode? I’m intrigued by what it could be.

Abby agrees to go with them, if Kane comes with her. They’re a package deal. Abby’s reasoning for agreeing go with them is to get Kane away from Octavia, because then at least he’ll be able to live.

After the lone prisoner shoots at Octavia, the prisoners flee back to the Eligius IIII ship. And now the real war starts.

The episode ended, just like the previous one, wth Bellamy and Clarke looking at each other. If that is not foreshadowing, then I don’t know what it is.

Overall, another fantastic episode. This season has been non stop so far, and I am so excited to see more!

[helloandwelcometomariasblog]

Review #91: Sister

Written by Xiaoying You, Directed by Ruoxin Yin

Sister immediately caught my attention for two reasons: It's an Asian film, and it's about family. After watching the trailer, I knew I had to go see it at the cinemas. There seemed to be aspects of it that I really liked - family members unable to love each other with nobody specific to blame. I really wanted to know how the characters would resolve that. And so I went to see it.

I was disappointed and not invested maybe a third of the film. I was slowly won over during two-thirds of the film, then by the end, I was bawling. Really. And the film remained with me for a while after that too.

The reason I wasn't invested at first was, I think, pretty simple. The main character was such a biatch. Yes, I understood her - she had enough reasons to be that biatch, but nobody actually wants to see the main character really be one. We could all see why she hated her brother and why she felt she wasn't responsible. We could all see that she wasn't loved as much as her brother was while her parents were alive. We could all see that her family members were also inconsiderate, pushing her to take care of her little brother despite the abuse she herself had gone through. We could also see that her brother was being a pain from time to time, and that she had her own life and her own plans - she was smart and wanted to be a doctor and also get married to her long-term boyfriend.

BUT. But despite all that, the second most important character is a little boy. A child. Moreover, he's a child who has just lost both parents. He doesn't even know what death means, what grief means, and here he is thrown around like a soccer ball, from heartless person to heartless person. And nobody wants to keep him. I just couldn't empathize with the main character when here was a child who was being forced to live through grief and constant abandonment by himself. Like what the fuck? Maybe I was even more angry because I have a little brother with around the same age difference. I don't think I could ever give my brother up to adoption regardless of whatever happened between me and my parents. Hating parents is one thing, abandoning a child is another.

Also, that child just went through something incredibly traumatic that even adults struggle with. Of course he needs more care and attention during this time. But he doesn't get it (in fact he gets the exact opposite, right in front of his face) and you're surprised and angry that he's acting out? That's his way of crying out for help. And what does the sister do? Become a biatch, that's what.

I just honestly could not empathize with her. And this lack of empathy and relatability made it initially very hard to become immersed in the film. I constantly found myself empathizing with the little brother instead and feeling really sorry for him. It really didn't help that he was a child. Children already have the image of being helpless and weak, and the film put that child in an even more vulnerable situation with a sister who literally wants to abandon him and overtly hates him. Like, come on.

This sister slowly starts changing as the film progresses. It's true that the beginning of the film may have been more realistic than others. The sister had issues she had to resolve within herself and the film may have just shown that in the most dirtiest and realest way possible, with no sugar coating. If that's what the film intended, I gotta say it succeeded. I'm just glad I stuck with it because it was incredibly cathartic seeing the sister heal herself as the film goes on. It surely doesn't happen immediately though, which I loved. It took quite a long time (which is probably why the film is over two hours long), but it was time well-spent, and more realistic too.

The sister goes back and forth many times, but that makes it even more real. There are moments when she advocates for her brother and takes care of him, and then the next moment she's back to wanting her own life and giving him up to adoption. The back-and-forth movements become more and more dramatic as time goes on, and the sister finds it harder and harder to emotionally detach herself from her brother. The film does all of this gradually, which is one of its strongest points. It reflects real life better.

A standout scene for me is when the sister goes to visit her brother after sitting her exams, and she finds her brother playing mahjong with a damn cigarette tucked behind his ear. I honestly gasped at that scene, and would have reacted exactly the same way the sister did - yell and scream at the uncle and drag little brother out of there. We're then led to a really heartwarming scene where the sister bathes her brother at the apartment during golden hour, sunlight pouring through the glass. I'm trying to remember the dialogue during that scene. I'm sure it was something really warm.

What I also loved was how, even after this heartwarming scene, the sister still decides to leave to Beijing. It felt way more realistic than some other family movies where it doesn't take much for the person to give up their desires for the younger being. It's shown during another standout scene where the siblings lie in bed, having a talk before going to sleep. The little brother asks her if she still wants to go to Beijing and why. The sister answers honestly and we can all tell that she really dreams of this life that she's planned out. The sad thing is that the brother is included in that 'we'. I didn't know during that scene, but in the following scenes, I realised that he understood exactly what his sister wanted.

It was really crazy how the little brother left his sister on his own accord and gave himself up to adoption just so his sister could pursue her dreams. As much as I loved that beat, I found myself seriously wondering: is that realistic? That a six year old boy would be that deeply sacrificial? He's probably the most sacrificial and loving character in the film, even more than his sister. It was a great beat though, one of the best in the movie. It was heartbreaking seeing him cry, unable to tell his sister why he chose to leave her. It was like a drama scene where one of the leads forces themselves to leave their partner and be all noble and sacrificial. Still not sure if it's realistic for a six year old to do that though. It's kind of sad even thinking of it. A child doing something even most adults wouldn't do. The brother really had to grow up and mature at a super young age. It's sad. I wonder what kind of teenager and adult he will be in the future. I hope he gets to resolve the hurts inside of him too as he grows up.

And so the sister actually buys the ticket for Beijing and prepares to leave. Again, I loved this. I loved how the film took us till the very end of the end before resolving things. The film really made us believe the sister would leave. And to be honest, I understood her and didn't blame her for deciding to pursue her dreams. I sat there wondering how they would actually resolve things. The ending scene is definitely one of my favourites, maybe even the favourite. I loved how the sister was given an ultimatum: you can leave, but if you leave, you've gotta sign the paper to say you'll never come to see your brother ever again. It was a great choice. There was so much at risk on both sides. It was a moment where I genuinely wasn't sure what she would do - I knew she loved both her brother and her dream and held both of them dearly. Both of them were precious.

I held my breath when she hesitated, pen hovering over the paper. Then she throws the pen down and runs out to her brother, and when her little brother turns to her, his eyes are full of tears. My heart. My heart. My damn heart! I bawled there, the tears just flowed. The brother had been pretending to be okay and holding all tears back, thinking that his sister would feel bad if she saw him cry and she'd give up her dreams. That's just too much for a six year old, I swear. He finally lets it out when he knows she still wants and loves him. That was both incredibly painful and cathartic to watch. What an amazing climax and resolution.

I also liked how the sister resolved her own deep issues before finally going back to her brother. I believe it's shown in the scene where she visits her parents' grave on the rainy day and cries to them. There was a hint of the start of her healing when she cries and lets out her honest feelings during night in front of her parents' pictures. The rainy day she rips the paper and is again honest to her parents' grave, is a great scene. I also loved the part where she comes down the stairs, and it's a long shot with rainwater flooding down the steps like a beautiful waterfall. It made me want to film something like that in the future. Felt like things were being washed away.

So yes, I started off not liking the film because of how unlikable the main character was (they're allowed to have negative qualities, but I honestly believe there needs to be something that makes the audience identify with them or empathize with them, just something that makes the audience root for them) and her treatment of her brother. I know it was done that way to show her gradual change, but I still do think it could have been done a little differently. Because, even with her treatment of her brother aside, I didn't really like her as a person and had trouble understanding her. She seemed really tantrum-ey at points. But as the film went on, I warmed up to her and the gradual change took place. She was still herself with her own desires even while growing to love her brother, which I loved. She learned to balance things out, and I hope she continued to pursue her dreams even without going to Beijing, with her brother by her side.

I find that this film presented a different image of 'sacrifice', and that it was saying that different image was okay too. You don't have to fully give yourself up for someone. You can still have your own life and that's okay. By the end, none of her family members guilt-trip her about looking after her brother, which I really liked. It's pretty rare for Asian families to not do that guilt-tripping thing. But her aunt did it. Her aunt, who seemed to be the most guilt-tripping person, let her go in the end and told her that it was okay, that not everyone fits that image of sacrifice perfectly, like the Russian dolls. I think that actually enabled the sister to go back to her brother later on. Sometimes you have to let people go to get them back.

[trylonandperisphere]

Silent Retreat 2: When The World Breaks Through, Ch. 28

I don’t know what the hell my update schedule is, anymore.  I guess it doesn’t matter, though, since this is the penultimate chapter.  I hope you enjoy it.  :) Also on AO3 and ff.net.

"So, where do you want me to start?" Delphine asked, while driving us back to Woodstock.

"God, I dunno…" I thought for a moment. It was hard to pull it all together in my mind. I was so tired. "Just… everything that happened when you talked with Sarah. And what did MK find out? And… what the hell happened with your retreat? Was something going on with what happened with Charlotte? Do you think she was following you? Jesus, where did Charlotte come out of in all of this mess?" I rubbed my hands over my face and under my glasses, blotting out my vision and hoping to stave off a freak out and a headache, combined. "What about what the agents asked or told you? I don't know… just, tell me things." I could see her glancing at me from the corner of her eye and licking her lips when I replaced my glasses. Shit, maybe I was getting too bitchy. Okay. I put my hand on her thigh.

"Just… fill me in on what you can," I urged her, less stridently. She nodded, the passing streetlights catching the tired hollows under her eyes.

"Well, we can't be sure if Charlotte found you by following me or some other way. She would have to have been keeping tabs on me for a long time. Agent Meacham says they are still interviewing her and her… henchmen." I think we both almost wanted to smile at that comic-book-world word, but didn't have the energy. She lowered one hand from the steering wheel and stroked the one I had planted on her leg, before returning it to the wheel again. Such a responsible driver.

"It seems that Rachel kept her fairly ignorant. Maybe she thought Susan would be able to cure them… at any rate, she obviously didn't trust you and Sarah and her other sisters. Who can tell how much of it was reason or… spite?" She glanced at me, and I nodded. Maybe Rachel had been trying to cling to what control she thought she had. Fucked up as she was, I couldn't imagine her really trusting anybody. "Maybe she intended Charlotte to be a bargaining chip. Anyway, Charlotte thinks you denied them the cure purposely. It's sad, really."

"Jesus," I breathed. "So she was desperate. But how did she find out about Sevvy?" She chewed her lip some more.

"As I said, we can't be sure. But the agency seems to think… that she traced you. Cosima, you were using your real name here and there. And you should have been perfectly safe to do so. I mean… the government may have wanted to speak with you… but who could know Charlotte would be searching for you?" Delphine sighed, taking a turn onto the next route. "Honestly, it could be my fault, too. You and I were both so happy… we weren't careful. I thought the danger was over…"

"Yeah, well, I was waltzing around registering him in school," I pointed out. "That couldn't have been how she found him, obvs, because they showed up then. But I could have done something… and you're right," I acknowledged, "I wasn't careful. Being with you, I let my guard down, but I had been letting it slip for years. I think I was more tired of hiding than I even knew."

She took my hand again and squeezed it.

"I'm not harshing on myself… much," I reassured her. "It felt right, at the time. And if my life wasn't so fucked up with all this clones stuff still... " I trailed off, clenching my teeth and shaking my head. But there was no point in getting so negative. Everyone's okay, I told myself. Don't start letting the past capture you again. 

"Hey," she said, then "hey," again, gently cupping my chin with her fingers to raise it. "Sarah and Helena and MK will have more to tell you when you get home. But the good news is we were all able to coordinate, and no one got hurt."

"Except Charlotte," I pointed out, and her fingers on my chin started to drop, so a reached up and held them there. "Hey, I'm willing to sacrifice a few karma points to say she deserved it."

A tentative smile touched her lips as she glanced at me, then back at the road. I let her hand go so she could return it to the steering wheel.

"You did nothing wrong, Cosima," she said softly, and then I saw her gather herself and raise her own chin a tiny bit. "And neither did I. I had to shoot her to keep her from hurting anyone else."

I watched her for a moment, the glow from the streetlights undulating across her masterpiece of a face as they passed by, catching a faint glint of tears welling in her eyes, but not spilling. She made the turn off onto the exit and I couldn't stop watching her that last bit of the the drive. I knew she was holding herself together to get us home and her strength and resolve was heartachingly beautiful to me right then. When she finally pulled into the driveway, she shifted the gear into park, but didn't turn off the engine. When she turned to look at me it was almost as if in slow motion, unsure, a question heavy behind her eyes. I reached up and stroked her cheek.

"Stay with me, tonight. Stay with us," I said, looking into her shadowed gaze. Her breath caught just the tiniest bit, and she turned off the ignition. She still looked hesitant, though, but while I needed to know more, I knew enough to do this.

"You have to," I told her. "You're my hero, you know."

"Cosima," she breathed, and her struggle of a smile tugged at my heartstrings the way it always did, but I knew they could snap back into tune. She leaned down and pressed her forehead to mine, and it was enough.

Exiting the car I noticed a black sedan parked just on the other side of the deck: our government escort. Delphine touched my hand, probably trying to soothe me in case I was pissed, but I was really just tired, and we had been warned. I could barely make out the pale blobs of two human heads through the dark windshield, and I made a show of giving them an exaggerated wave as I closed the car door. At least they weren't hiding. I decided I could let myself ignore them until morning.

Michael's face peered out the window to confirm it was us, and we made our way inside. Helena was curled on the loveseat, pink-rimmed eyes peeking out from under wild wobbles of hair. Sarah sat on the couch with Michael settling back in by her, each of them nursing a beer. I could hear the murmur of Teo singing a lullaby down the hall, no doubt to soothe both Sevvy and himself.

We were all tired, explanatory sentences coming out in short bursts. Sarah, MK and Helena had hatched a plan to protect us themselves, but it was Delphine who convinced them they had to involve the authorities. This wasn't the old days, when we were on our own. Deals had been made and new lives built, and we all had homes and families to lose. Not that my sisters weren't still badass, in their ways, but why not stack the deck and reduce the clean up? After all, what would we have done if someone got killed? If even we captured Charlotte ourselves?

Things were different now. We were grown up. We had allies, even if that meant we had to compromise.

And most of all, we could all trust each other.

There would be more meetings with authorities, more to parse about what we'd learned about Charlotte, and MK was going to look even further into that. But now we needed rest.

So I took Delphine's hand and pulled her gently toward my room. I noticed Sarah follow our motion with her eyes and when her glance caught mine just for a moment, I swear I saw the faint tug of a tired but benevolent smile at the corner of her mouth. Behind us, Michael was setting up the couches for my sisters, but I let my mind drop all attention on that to tow my love through the door. Shutting it behind us without even turning on the light, I turned around and pulled her to me, her arms slipping around me, too. We held each other for a long moment, just breathing, my face pressed into the side of her neck and her nose in my dreads. She made a small sound in her throat, something like a swallowed whimper, and I looked up at her.

"Are you okay?" I asked her.

She looked down for a moment, letting out a small scoff and then sniffling in what were obviously threatening tears.

"You're asking me if I'm okay?" she countered, and I ducked my head a bit so I could catch her eyes, faint but luminous in the slight glow of moonlight that made it through the window.

"Yeah," I whispered, "Delphine?"

"Cosima," she sighed, and brought her hand to my face in that way she did; the one that always made me feel like I was so precious to her. "I… I was so worried…" She faltered.

"We all were," I acknowledged, and I let a tremble ripple through me just for a moment, then let my muscles loosen, my weight sinking lower toward my center of gravity. "And we're all exhausted. But I want you to understand something." I caught the wrist of her hand near my jaw and squeezed it, and she gave me her full, serious attention.

"I believe you, Delphine," I told her. "I trust you." And I meant it. I would say it a thousand times, again, if she needed me to, to make up for all the times before.

I felt it in my bones.

She let out a soft gasp, and a few tears spilled over her lashes to track down her cheeks, but she pulled my face to hers and kissed me so fully, achingly, sweetly that my mind gave up on words and all there was was to kiss her, slowly and full of truth, intent and promise, in return.

We barely had the energy to remove our clothes, staying as close together as possible as we sunk into the bed, tangled together, and down into the release of necessary sleep.

[mittensmorgul]

1.22. The Colt’s only got three bullets left. They have no idea how to make more.

(the Colt’s as much a mystery to them at this point as it is to the BMoL and Mary in s12)

Sam wants to stay and fight (WITH ONLY THREE WHOLE BULLETS THAT WORK ON DEMONS!). Because VENGEANCE! Dad would’ve wanted them to stay and kill the thing! Even if he’s already dead as well because of it.

Dean wants to take a step back and work on a reasonable plan because if the demons got John, then there’s no way for Sam and Dean to survive facing them without A Plan. Running to the fight with nothing but their emotions dialed up to berserker mode would just result in ALL of them dead.

*resists urge to just copy/paste all the damn dialogue here, because it’s entirely pertinent to s12*

BOBBY. When their dad goes missing, they run to Bobby for help. He’s the closest thing they have to a father. He teaches them all the basic demon lore (and really, why didn’t they get these lessons sooner? John’s been tracking demons for years at this point, and he didn’t even teach Sam and Dean the very basics? Seems like a grave oversight, but John never intended to let the demons get close to his boys in the first place).

Dean as lie detector: He absolutely knows that Meg is lying about killing John.

Bobby warns Dean that exorcising the demon from Meg will probably kill her, because of the damage her body’s sustained while being possessed. Dean’s thinking is that if they can’t save the real Meg, at least they can put her out of her misery, save her from being possessed...

(interesting in light of s9, but there you go. desperate times and all that...)

And the Colt’s been tied to Sunrise again-- via the apartment building where the demons were holding John and the town in Wyoming where Dean once killed a phoenix with it (6.18), and then in 12.12 Cas ordered the Sunrise Special and nearly died, while we learn that entire mission was secretly about Mary stealing the Colt.

Sam and Dean argue over whether or not to bring the Colt on a rescue mission for John:

Sam: We can’t, Dean. We’ve only got three bullets left. We can’t just use them on any demon, we’ve got to use them on the demon. Dean: No, we have to save Dad, Sam, okay? We’re gonna need all the help we can get. Sam: Dean, you know how pissed Dad would be if we used all the bullets? Dean, he wouldn’t want us to bring the gun. Dean: I don’t care, Sam. I don’t care what Dad wants, okay? And since when do you care what Dad wants? Sam: We want to kill this demon. You used to want that, too. Hell, I mean, you’re the one who came and got me at school! (Dean scoffs) You’re the one who dragged me back into this, Dean. I’m just trying to finish it! Dean: Well, you and Dad are a lot more alike than I thought, you know that? You both can’t wait to sacrifice yourself for this thing. But you know what? I’m gonna be the one to bury you. You’re selfish, you know that? You don’t care about anything but revenge. Sam: That’s not true, Dean. (Dean scoffs) I want Dad back. But they are expecting us to bring this gun. They get the gun, they will kill us all. That Colt is our only leverage and you know it, Dean. We can not bring that gun. We can’t.

(Oh gosh in retrospect this is such an obvious trap)

Dean (of course) brought the Colt with him anyway, and ended up killing a demon that nearly killed Sam. He’s freaked out that he’s NOT more freaked out that he’d killed the person the demon was possessing too.

John and Sam have been on this revenge quest, but for Dean it’s never been about just avenging the dead. He cares more about protecting his LIVING family members than in getting revenge for the dead.

John and Sam may be willing to sacrifice themselves in the name of revenge, but Dean’s rather unsettled that he’s willing to sacrifice perfect strangers in the name of holding on to what little family he has left. (and it’s the attitude that leads him to sell his soul for Sam in 2.22, so... it’s definitely something unsettling).

(see all the meta ever written about Dean knowing that John’s possessed because he was PROUD of Dean for “wasting a bullet” when the real John would’ve been furious with him for it... even though that bullet was “wasted” saving Sam)

And Sam is torn between who to believe, Dean or “John.”

And of course Dean hesitates actually pulling the trigger. Even knowing John’s possessed, he also knows that killing the demon would’ve also killed John... and killing John? That was probably too much to ask of Dean. He just had this morality crisis about the terrifying things he’s willing to do to protect Sam and John, it’s unreasonable to think he’d be able to kill John...

Instead, he pleads to John, trapped inside the demon, as it tortures him.

It’s like a weird version of the crypt scene. John fought down Azazel enough to let Sam break free and grab the Colt.

John begs Sam to shoot him so it can kill the demon, while Dean lies wounded across the room begging Sam NOT to shoot him... and the demon escapes. Just like Dean predicted of the “real John,” he’s disappointed.

John: I’m surprised at you, Sammy. Why didn’t you kill it? I thought we saw eye-to-eye on this? Killing this demon comes first – before me, before everything. Sam looks in the rear view mirror at Dean. Sam: No, sir. Not before everything. Look, we’ve still got the Colt. We still have the one bullet left. We just have to start over, alright? I mean, we already found the demon.....

and smashy smashy.

Sam’s been won over to Dean’s “there are things more important than revenge” mindset at last.

Oddly, it’s pretty much Mary’s mindset right now, too. Confronted with a yellow-eyed demon, stealing the Colt, keeping secrets (or flat out lying), putting her mission ahead of everything else... at least until after her shake-up in 12.12. Still, she doesn’t even begin to come clean to Sam and Dean there yet.

In 12.01, their first (sunrise!) conversation on that park bench:

Mary: How did he die? Dean: He gave himself up. For me. Mary: That sounds like John.

She smiled fondly, as if what John had done (without all the guilt and context of just how much those events screwed with Dean’s head...) was somehow a positive thing... like it hadn’t been one of the major events of his life that had scarred Dean heavily. That fully in context, it wasn’t a noble and gallant sacrifice of himself for Dean, it was just one more bargaining chip added to the giant pot of Winchesters throwing their lives away for each other.

It took Dean YEARS to get over that, and here’s Mary cavalierly implying that of course if John died hunting, it would be to save his boys...

Kinda puts a scary spin on just how cavalier Mary’s been with her own restored life, and the choices she’s making on behalf of her grown sons. Just like that choice John made all those years ago. He thought he’d been doing something “for the greater good” too...

And all of this is centered around the Colt, and sunrises, and lies, and family, and revenge.

In s12 Dean is so far past doing anything for simple revenge, but Sam’s struggling with it just like he did in s1. Only now it’s Mary instead of John, tempting him with a life beyond hunting instead of a valiant death in service to that revenge.

I swear I just want to sit everyone down and declare Honesty Hour and talk about all this crap. But no, the truth is gonna come out in horrifyingly painful ways, because we’re watching Supernatural.

[bookwormguri]

Escape the Brothel- Background

So I’ve been told by a very reliable source that it might be a good idea to write down little recaps for the DnD group I DM for. She was very convincing ;3

So I was originally going to start the recap in this post, but I’m VERY long winded and it ended up becoming a background piece about what went into making this homebrew (avoiding as many spoilers as I can). Maybe I’ll actually get into the gameplay next time, WHO KNOWS.

Warning for rambling and mushiness and the writer having no sense of flow:

So for background, before this group, I had DM’d for approximately 3 ½ sessions with my other Curse of Strahd group. That group is pretty vanilla, but I was kind of craving something a bit darker. Even after months this need never left me. (I even jotted out some little point for an overall plot) Through some luck and fate I found some players that I adore and who were as ravenous as I was to explore dark themes through DnD~

So I started my first homebrew campaign. Since I was (and still am) nervous making my own campaign I knew from the start that I wanted the first game at least to be contained to a small area. That way it would make it simpler for myself and the characters to get used to the world without being overwhelmed. I was kinda obsessed with Escape Rooms at the time so I decided to go with that type of theme; escape. Thus sprouted the Deep Fantasia brothel and the Escape the Brothel arc. Sometimes I worry that after they escape the brothel there will be some disappointment that the rest of the world does not have the same depth of detail, but I’m sure we will all live.

And because I have no fucking chill, the ‘small’ brothel became a four-story map, with additional basement and sub-basement for possible human sacrifice purposes? Did I mention I created 69 unique NPCs to populate the brothel? (I swear that number was not on purpose) So far, I’ve only needed to come up with a handful of NPCs on the spot, and even fewer that needed names. (Bet you didn’t know Lady Artana is someone I just made up, did you?)

When I was creating the NPCs I decided quickly that even if they were going to be treated as throw-away side characters/canon fodder (how naive I was then) I wanted them all to have at least one personable quirk. Just something written down so that they didn’t seem completely flat should the PCs want to get to know them better. Soon those little quirks evolved into half of them having their own mini-side quests. Whoops. I wanted this campaign to be light on the monster encounters so in the end, I think I went 180 the other way. ;D

Now, let it be known I am absolutely shite at pinning down how long a session will last and how fast players will complete challenges. I naively (SO NAIVELY) thought that the PCs might escape the brothel in one, maybe three sessions max. I WAS SO WRONG! I had only ever played with one Player in this group and I was going off what I knew from their playstyle and my own previous knowledge playing and built out from that assumption, but my players surprised me. They actually wanted to fully explore and get to know this little world I created. They wanted to talk to ALL the NPCs, ferret out ALL the mysteries, and most surprising of all, they actually played by the ‘rules’ I set out. I have been told that I’ve never once created a PC that didn’t hate authority. I never would have thought twice about breaking the rules as long as I could sneak or talk or pound my way out of them.

But here, my players surprised me by playing within the rules they were given before the game and because of this the time it has taken them to explore and progress is slower, but it has also shown me there is a certain cunning and subtlety that comes with trying to build up to breaking the rules without shaking the status quo. It’s honestly fascinating to watch and learn from. Although, I do also vividly remember having a lengthy phone convo with a friend (PC in my CoS game) where I happy-cried, “My players are smarttttttt!! They’re too smart for meeeeee!!”

One thing that I wanted was for the characters to come together on their own. I know most people have probably played through that awkward first session where everyone ‘introduces’ their PC at a bar and that your background is that you are a merry band of mercenaries. That works well enough, but it’s never really given me the emotional investment I need to build up to a Party that I’d literally die for. So, in a way, I wanted the brothel to be an origin story for the PCs and their party. I wanted them to come together naturally (or as naturally as they could with my NPCs saying, “Yes, the three of you should be here at this time.”) The one downside to this is that in the beginning I had a bunch of one-on-one time with the PCs while the other two needed to spend time on the back burner. I felt really guilty about this, always worried the others were bored. I tried my best to switch between them as often as I could so they all felt included and that their goals were being given the same time and effort as the others.

I think I was very clumsy and awkward with it at first, but what can you do? Growing pains and all that, you know? And even with my perceived awkwardness I’m still blown away with how natural and perfect we all worked together in-game the first few sessions (considering half of us had never seen the other half’s faces XD) I’ve gotta thank my kickass players for that. They really went all-out in immersing themselves in the game, making my job a lot easier. They’re kinda impressive or something.

When I designed the brothel and the various ways to escape, like most DMs I didn’t want to railroad my players. I came up with some foolproof ways for them to leave, with certain plot beats that needed to be fulfilled for them to progress forward at all, but in the end, I think I came up with a skeleton and a few blood vessels of a setting and plot. I didn’t want to be so married to my idea that it would stifle the creativity and ingenuity of my players should they come up with something brilliant (and I’m pleased to say as far as I can tell it has not).

At its core, there are two things keeping the players from escaping, the Brands that threaten to make them go ‘poof’ if they exit certain areas and the various Defenses that the brothel uses to keep people in (and out). Once they solve those two issues things should (theoretically) be smooth sailing. It’s just up to the players to pick up the breadcrumbs I’ve left lying around of how to do both, unless the PCs come up with their own brilliant escape plan (I would be lying if I said I haven’t impulsively burnt down an inn or two in my day). I make it sound easy, but those two obstacles are actually fairly formidable in their own right.

Speaking of the PCs, when designing the brothel I also designed three factions/roles for the PCs to choose from in addition to their race and class: Whore, Guard or Servant. Going off rock-paper-scissor rules I built each role so that they could succeed where the other’s failed or be lacking where others had strength. All the same, I designed the overall escape so that even if every player chose servant they would still have a chance to escape (although choosing all servants would be doing it in Hard mode, I swear).

Homebrewing this was really a challenge. There was making the plot, the maps, picking out music (which I’ve STILL never been able to get work), knowing the rules, picking out monsters, making NPCs, making traps, having technical difficulties every other week. :D

But still, the nice thing about DnD that I always remind myself is that not everything has to been written down. I don’t NEED to come up with a counter to Every Possible Outcome. Bullshitting is my specialty after all~ (Also those years of improv classes help a bunch too~) And these players make playing just as enjoyable for me as it is for them (I hope).

Especially in the beginning (but also now) I needed constant validation that people were having fun and I was doing a good job. Because if the players aren’t having fun then I need to up my game as that’s my primary goal. One of the players suggested that we do a little thing at the end of every session where we go around and say our favorite thing, least favorite thing, and things we would change. This helps me SO MUCH as a DM that I can’t even express it correctly through words.

I look forward to every Saturday game session, counting down the days until my brilliant players can surprise me again in my own sandbox.

Next, I’ll TRY to actually retell some of the most important bits that have happened to them so far.

@@autumninthenorth @nyako-chan @yarking

[aurelliocheek]

Frostpunk: Mixing Opposing Genres

The Senior Lead Designer tells about forging the right gameplay for Frostpunk.

Here at 11 bit studios, we might differ from other companies in that we don’t explicitly state design pillars per se. Instead, we do have a loose set of principles that are central to all our efforts. Authenticity and intuitiveness are on top of the list since we want gamers to be able to immerse themselves in the gameplay situation, believe the choices they’re about to make since that’s the only way to make them feel meaningful.

For this, you can’t be engaged solely in trying to understand abstract concepts the game decided to use in its gameplay model. We’re striving for all things to work “the way you imagine them to”. That’s how core mechanical elements of Frostpunk came to be: cold leading to sickness, lack of food resulting in hunger, the generator need of coal to operate and provide heat, etc. In addition to this, we always have a guiding light in the design process, the high-level pitch/promise the game is making. In the case of Frostpunk, it was a question: “What society is capable of when pushed to the limit?”. This question had to resonate both in content and mechanics, and we oriented ourselves around it in all design decisions we had to make.

During the development process, there was no single “aha!” moment that meant our gameplay loop is satisfying and engaging. Instead of it, there were many small steps. One was definitely putting together the initial “first playable/mood demo” back in 2015. It brought basic gameplay ­mechanics and art together to create a short (around 30 minutes long) demo that proved to us that there is something unique in the concept we were pursuing.

Another one came to be when we finally settled on the tech tree, and the way temperature works in the game, with discrete levels and 5-day weather forecast: this created a nice tactical playspace to strategise in an interesting economic decision with 2-3 paths to play around with, each with different consequences. Yet another (probably the most pivotal one) was implementing the Book of Laws for the first time which became the main method to introduce social dilemmas into the game in a way that allows the player to form his strategy.

The social fabric of the game is the Purpose Tree which allows you to shape the society and bend its spirit to your will.

Unavoidable Conflict One of the most difficult tasks, mostly due to a very real conflict of player’s motivations, was to combine gameplay styles of a city builder and a survival sim. It quickly occurred to us that city building players are mostly focused on open-ended, experimentation-fueled gameplay. They got a high tolerance for mistakes and trigger-happiness when it comes to restarting a new city if something doesn’t work the way they want it to (or if they are simply bored of the current design). It’s a sandbox, toylike approach to the game.

On the other hand, survival gameplay provides the complete opposite. For survival experience to work, the gameplay needs to be perceived as difficult. The challenges should be present even in small things, and the consequences of your actions should be strong and very real to your progress. We realised we couldn’t please both audiences at the same time and the only way out of this brain teaser was to escape forward. So we set up the game as a distinct experience that doesn’t provoke immediate associations with any one genre in particular and force the player to take the experience for what it is: a unique mix of theoretically opposing genres. It was a grim, tough survival experience, so the pressure had to be there. But the way to navigate the challenges was through city-building mechanics and tech/social development. It all clicked together after lots of sweat, swears, testing and iteration.

Also, decisions during the planning phase were affected by our setting and cruelty of the XIXth century portrayed in Frostpunk. Research on both of the realities of the era as well as survival scenarios was the backbone of every piece of social content in the game. Things like child labour, sawdust in food, cannibalism – these are, unfortunately, authentic things, both in and out of the XIXth century. The social fabric of the game is the Purpose Tree which allows you to shape the society and bend its spirit to your will. This was, in a sense, what happened in the pivotal moments of propaganda and national fervour during the wars of the era, and beyond. We very explicitly steered clear of too fantastical and caricatural ideas and tone. We wanted the game to be meaningful. Therefore we grounded the choices and content in reality.

Unfortunately, it often proved more grim and gritty than our wildest imagination. Of course, not every idea proved to be working as intended. There were a lot of mechanics that didn’t make it into the final game, both large and small, as with any game development project. One notable example would be snowstorms. One could think a mechanic where a storm encompasses the city, and the player has to deal with consequences would be a natural fit for a game about survival in a frozen wasteland. But the implementation proved to be a nuisance. The player had no interesting choices coming from this type of interruption, and it quickly degenerated into a “cleanup simulator” after the storm. It was irritating instead of fun.

By the mix of mood, mechanics and carefully designed content we moved a step closer to a truly emergent narrative in the traditional sense of the word.

Nomination for Narrative I could surely tell that Frostpunk was a very challenging project design-wise and there are quite a few things I’m happy about. But the one that definitely stands out is the way we were able to weave in narrative into an inherently strategic gameplay experience.

I believe we are onto something unorthodox regarding the usual tools of storytelling in games, somewhere in the middle between anecdote generators of games like Dwarf Fortress and strictly directed, cinematic experiences of most AAA stories. I feel that by the mix of mood, mechanics and carefully designed content we moved a step closer to a truly emergent narrative in the traditional sense of the word: a story with a meaning, beginning, and end, but co-authored by the players’ choices. And it seems to have worked well, as we’ve received a BAFTA nomination for Narrative – for a game without a single NPC! I feel this is something unique to the language of games, and I definitely want us to explore this area of game design in future projects.

On the other hand – there are some things we could do differently looking at how the game played when launched on the market. After all, no game is ever finished, just abandoned. But I feel we’ve abandoned Frostpunk in a pretty good place and I’m happy with the result. One thing I would give more thought in the future was accommodating players that were missing the Endless Mode on launch. While I feel Frostpunk strength lies with the unique scenario structure and the narrative it delivers, I fully understand the need for a more sandbox-like experience of many city-builder/survival players and I’d definitely like to give them a chance from the beginning.

Setting A New Tone All of that gave us a lot more confidence in using the tools and paradigms we’ve developed for the base game when telling stories in this world. On the other hand (and because of that) we’ve sometimes felt somewhat constrained by the form factor of Frostpunk communication channels. That’s an exciting area to explore going forward for the Frostpunk franchise. So to challenge ourselves, and to provide something new to the tone of the game, The Last Autumn, our latest expansion, is both the biggest and the most tone-nuanced scenario in the game. We’ll see if more subtle concepts, ideas, and narratives carry well in this format. Since the Frostpunk main threats – severe froze and weather in general – are absent from the gameplay loop in the expansion, because this story takes place before the advent of winter which changed a lot in terms of design. Temperature is the sole challenge engine in the base game. Now we had to make sure we have the tools to exert pressure on the players and control the difficulty/pacing. One way to do it was to introduce the concept of Toxic Gases, that put everyone working near the generator at danger. As a bonus, it fitted well with the tone of the worker’s sacrifice.

The Frostpunk team is now working on third and final expansion from Season Pass and after that, they will be seeking new challenges.

Interestingly – and that’s symptomatic of the challenges to balance in Frostpunk in general – as soon as cold is reintroduced these same Toxic Gases proved to be too much, overwhelming the players with too many balls to juggle. So we had to find ways to balance them against the onset of a cold. There are more examples. Another element to make the challenging work in that kind of scenario was to make the time pressure (which is somewhat present all over of Frostpunk) an overt and clearly stated constraint: you’re on a deadline, and you have to deliver. We also beefed up the role of strikes which, again – fit well with the tone of the pre-end-of-the-world era in the Frostpunk timeline. Strikes were a very natural thing in the XIXth century and were somewhat underused in the base game. They served as a different type of challenge, delaying the player, enabling a new negotiation mechanic and tying well with the time pressure.

On top of everything that was said, we always thought of Frostpunk as a spiritual successor to This War of Mine. Serious theme and tone, challenging gameplay, tough choices to make: these are the backbones of both titles. However, we wanted to try a very different genre, presentation and production values bar. And we’re proud we’ve been able to unleash a different beast in this regard.

Kuba Stokalski Senior Lead Designer

Kuba is a Project Lead and Lead Designer at 11 bit studios. His work on Frostpunk earned a BAFTA nomination for Narrative, and he aims to create meaningful experiences in a language native to the medium of games. He is currently overseeing continuous development of the Frostpunk franchise – and more, unannounced stuff.

The post Frostpunk: Mixing Opposing Genres appeared first on Making Games.

Frostpunk: Mixing Opposing Genres published first on https://leolarsonblog.tumblr.com/

[mylittleedgey]

Phoenix tried to crane his neck to look at the other man.  “How do you feel about me?”

The answer came with almost no hesitation.  “Significantly stronger than I’m comfortable with admitting to.”

“For how long?”

“...How long has it been for you?”

He sighed.  “When we were in elementary school,  I told my parents I was going to marry you.  They told me it was illegal, and I said you would be a lawyer then so you could make it work.”  he smiled wistfully.  “I didn’t understand gay sex, or much about sex at all beyond what Larry had told me...”

“Which was absolute rubbish.”  Miles interjected.

“Indeed.” Phoenix agreed wholeheartedly.  “You know what I mean, though, right?  It wasn’t like, creepy, I just wanted you to be part of my life forever.  Like my parents were to each other, but before I realized Mom wasn’t really just trying to help Dad fix his zipper with her teeth that time they thought I was asleep.” He laughed nervously.  “I’ve always considered it my first crush, if that doesn’t sound too creepy?  My parents almost had me convinced it was just a phase I went through until I saw you on TV as an adult.  I mean, I’d seen pictures in the paper, but the whole package, and that voice on top of it...”  He nudged the other man.  “And you?”

“More complicated.”  he replied, and for the first time in a very long while Phoenix saw him grip his arm in that pose that always meant he was remembering something painful.  “I suppose in retrospect it was obvious that Von Karma was trying to distance me from my past life, to keep me isolated and at his mercy… but at the time I believed everything he said about ridiculous childhood games and boyhood obsessions that would only serve to hinder my growth.  I spent a great many years without thinking about you, save through the veil of shame I cast over my entire childhood.”  Phoenix was silent, but wrapped an arm around the prosecutor’s waist in an awkward reclining hug.  “You must understand, that on one level I blamed my childish ways for causing the panic that had caused me to block out the memories of my father’s death, preventing me from helping to convict my father’s murderer, and on a deeper level I believed it was my dangerous hysteria that had caused me to… to e-end my father’s life.”  He gritted his teeth.  “I’m sorry, none of this is what you asked.”  he replied in a distant tone that indicated his mind was far away in an elevator he’d never fully escaped, even now.

“I’m sorry.” Phoenix breathed.  Words were ridiculous at a time like that.

“No, don’t be.” Miles replied, and no mood matrix was necessary to show how high strung he was.  “I-I only say this so you understand that the sheer contempt I showed for you when we met again was an extension not only of my indoctrination by Von Karma, but the bitter hatred I felt for myself.  Even when I saw that you had sacrificed so much to help me, I couldn’t accept those feelings, let alone return them.  It would have required me to confront everything I’d been running from.  I literally was not able to speak to you.”  The self-reproach that had dogged him seemed stronger than ever now, and he stood nervously, refastening his pants and smoothing his vest.  “Zip your pants, Wright, I can’t speak to you when you’re like that.”

“Hey, I...”  He stood quickly and rushed to make himself presentable.  The one-eighty in Miles’ personality left him breathless with worry.  

“No, please don’t go, I’m sorry.”  he stammered a little too quickly for his usual dignity.  “I’m...”  he breathed in deeply.  “I’m okay. It’s just been a while since it all came out last.”  When Phoenix stepped forward, he was shocked to feel the slightly taller man surge forward and encircle his arms around his shoulders.  “It was almost like a fail-safe. He couldn’t bring me down in court, but everything he had beaten into me was so strong that I couldn’t understand how to break it.  Gant too, he knew exactly what he was doing.”

Phoenix wanted to respond, but there was nothing.  “I was there.  I’ve always been there.” he finally announced weakly, hoping it didn’t sound accusatory.  “Even when you can’t bring yourself to speak to me, know that I’m always there for you.”

Miles was silent for several moments.  “You know when an animal is sick, and they somehow realize their time is up?  They distance themselves from everyone to die alone.  Maybe they don’t understand what’s happening, but they still do.  It’s instinct.  I think that’s how it was for me.” Phoenix said nothing, but his grip tightened nervously.   “I’m sorry I frightened you when I left, but I’m glad you didn’t see me like that.  It wasn’t a pretty sight.”

“You don’t ever have to be pretty for me.”  he replied softly with a half smile, and he stops short of mentioning he’s never known a time when the other man wasn’t pretty.  “But I try to respect your privacy.  I know you don’t like to be seen like this.”

“You’ve seen me worse.”  Miles breathed into his shoulder.  “Only you.”  The room was silent and still for several moments, but Phoenix was surprised to find that it wasn’t awkward.  Instead, it felt surprisingly intimate.  “In any case, to answer your question, it was probably six months from after our being reunited when I admitted to myself that my ridiculous feelings for you were not going away, as much as I hoped they would.  When I met you again and you went on that tirade about how you never wanted to see me again, I thought it was all settled, but then you had the poor grace to forgive my cowardice.  In my time abroad following that I decided it was time to come clean, for better or for worse, but then, before I could...” he paused.  “You asked me to defend the love of your life.”

“Oh….” Well, that answered his next question, namely what the hell kept them from doing this years ago.  “I’m sorry,”  The words lost meaning after a while.

“I never blamed you.  You follow your heart, and if it led you to save me, how could I fault it for leading you to others?  I admire it immensely, as hard as I am on you about it.  You were so single-minded on saving her, I felt like you didn’t even see me there.  I guess I accepted it as my punishment for treating you so badly.  But then, when the truth came out in court...”  he cleared his throat, and Phoenix distinctly heard the breath catch.  “I knew I had lost.  I couldn’t compete with someone who loved you so strongly, or so openly.  What happened with her?”  There was genuine confusion in his voice.

“We’re good friends.  Still, actually.”  Phoenix replied shyly.  “Trucy and Pearl call her Aunt Iris.  She’s the one that taught Trucy how to knit my Papa hat, you know.  Trucy taught her how to make things disappear.  She’s pretty good at it, it freaks the crap out of Bikini.”  There was a continued silence.  “I…  I went to see her a lot in prison.”

“I know.”  Miles answered quietly.

“Oh, you saw that?”  One hand instinctively went to the back of his neck.

“I admit it was extremely unprofessional of me, but I was aware.  Every Friday, for three years.  You only missed twice.” His teeth bared in what was hard to describe as anything but a grimace.  “It ate me alive that I was being so petty, but every time you visited I held my breath and awaited the formalization of your relationship.  I swear, though, I never used my connections to listen in.”

“Well,” Phoenix chuckled awkwardly, “you might have saved us both a lot of trouble if you had.  We talked for hours, and it was so much like old times, but it was never… like it had been.  We never really discussed it until maybe a year in.  Out of the blue, one day she asked me if ‘it was Mr. Edgeworth’.  No context.  I mean, I figured it out pretty quick, but I couldn’t answer her directly, and I guess that was all she needed to know.  The next time we met, it was as friends.”

“I… see...” Miles was surprisingly calm and thoughtful.  “She and I rarely spoke, but I do recall that she specifically requested that I not be present at her parole hearing.  It seemed odd, seeing how I served as her defense council.  I wonder… if she didn’t want to see me.” His eyes shifted in an almost guilty smile.  “I always got the feeling that she knew exactly what my feelings were for you.”

“When I didn’t?”

“She was a very perceptive young lady.”

“If she knew, she could have said something.”  Phoenix pointed out.

His gaze soured. “Were I in her position, I don’t believe I would have done any different.”  he admitted darkly.  “I would never have consciously come between you and your happiness, but to actually be the catalyst that brought you together with another...”

Phoenix studied his face with total confusion.  “There’s no way I’m worth both of you losing sleep.”  The idea that Miles actually had feelings for him was strange enough, but the idea that two people he cared about felt strongly enough to anguish over who he chose… it went beyond flattering and into the profoundly disturbing.  “I never meant to hurt anyone.”

“Of course you didn’t.”  There was a smile again, and a little squint that went straight to his spine in a nervous tingle.  “You don’t have it in you.  It’s your nature to care about everyone, just as much as it is for people like Iris and I to be taken in by it.”

“You seem to have a lot of respect for her considering she’s a rival.”

“As I do for you, my greatest rival.”  Miles smiled.  “But in all seriousness, I understand her well.  Perhaps better than you.  Her greatest crime was that she allowed her sister to convince her to sacrifice her own morals for the sake of Dahlia’s ‘greater good’.  I’m sure it was slow, and subtle, and probably at the expense of her own confidence, her very identity.  She may have gone her entire life without realizing how low she’d allowed herself to be dragged if it hadn’t been for you.  We’re the same in that way.”

He’d certainly never thought of it that way, but it made a lot of sense.  “It must not have been easy for the truth to come out like it did, but I believe she was better for it.”  Miles continued.  “No, I’ve been too close to her situation to ever wish evil on her.”  Hie smiled with just hint of bitterness.  “I wouldn’t trade places with her for anything, of course.  I’m not that good a person.”

“You really feel that strongly about me?”

Miles’ eyes darted to the side again, the way they tended to when he was embarrassed. “How many ways are you going to make me say it, Wright?  I could start in other languages, but I just don’t see where it would do either of us any good.”

“I’m not trying to tease you.”  Phoenix explained quickly.  “I just… I can’t believe you, or anyone, really, would look at plain old Phoenix Wright and see something worth fighting over.”

“You’ve had some destructive relationships.”  Miles pointed out with a frown that only experience taught him was concern.  “I know very little about your love life, but I’m aware of that.  That’s why I thought you would be better off with someone like Iris, who could actually treat you right and let you know how important you were, as opposed to someone like me, who would call you an idiot on your deathbed and will likely never pay you a compliment without it hiding an insult.” He shrugged suddenly, indicating that line of conversation was over without waiting for a response.  “But I guess that’s neither here nor there if you’re satisfied with my personality as it is.” Suddenly he stood, picking up his phone and settling himself down behind his desk.  “And while we’re on the subject of my shortcomings as a partner, I’m afraid I’ll have to ask you to leave in about twenty minutes.  I have some meetings to attend to, and there’s really no excuse I can see for inviting an unrelated defense attorney to them.  So we should probably get the more important aspects of the relationship defined now.”  He finished whatever he was typing on the phone and set it down, folding his hands neatly on top of the desk.  “Unless you’d like to try sex again?  We could probably make it in time.”  The words were spoken with such a bold lack of hesitance that Phoenix could barely shrug stiffly in reply.  “But there will be plenty of time for that later, when we’re better prepared.”

“Just to make sure we’re perfectly clear, I am not in any sort of relationship that would prevent me from starting one with you, and I have no objections to the idea.  I don’t smoke and I never drink to excess, in fact I believe you’re familiar with any of my bad habits that would interfere with a relationship.  I’m not sure if I snore, I haven’t had anyone watch me sleep in years besides Gumshoe, and he wouldn’t tell me.”  He looked up suddenly and harshly.  “I nod off in the office occasionally, before you ask.  Sexually, I’m comfortable with both giving and receiving.  I’m known to be rather controlling in either position.  I should mention that although I’ve had many complaints about my personality and the like, I’ve never had a single partner criticize my abilities.  In fact, response has been overwhelmingly positive.”  He maintained the confident eye contact until Phoenix finally looked away with a blush.  “But I promise I’m always open to suggestions for improvement.”  His eyes narrowed. “And it will improve in case you were worried about that.  I’m afraid I was a bit off my game today.  I’d normally prefer advance warning, but as they say, fortune favors the bold.”

“As for my emotional qualifications, I don’t normally do ‘relationships’. I would prefer you not pressure me into putting feelings into words. I have no problem with providing you with a monogamous relationship if that’s what you choose, and in case it wasn’t clear, your daughter is a charming young lady and I have no wish to interfere with her life or your involvement in it.  I… can’t guarantee that I can hold my own weight in our... affiliation.  I also… can’t promise that I won’t hurt you, as I know I have done in the past. I can only promised that I would never do so intentionally.  These are, I’m afraid, the best terms that I can offer you.  Is that acceptable?”

It seemed like an odd set of stipulations from a man who had practically jumped on him at the first sign of affection, but there would be time later.  In a way, the utterly indifferent way he laid out the relationship like a legal document was comforting.  “I… agree to the terms and conditions?”

Miles smiled, giving that odd squint that made Phoenix’s heart flutter like a lovesick teenager.  “My first question for you would be: do you have any idea how your daughter feels about you being in a relationship? Would it make a difference if it was with another man? I’ve heard her ‘new mommy’ talks.”

“Actually,” he replied awkwardly, “she’s the one that put me up to visiting you today.”

He blinked.  “You’ve spoken to your daughter about us?”

“Well, I kinda might have mentioned to her that I heard you talking to whichever Paine it was at the party last month, and he kinda implied you liked me, and you kinda didn’t deny it...”  he explained.

“That’s what this is about?!” Miles sputtered.

“...Yes?”

He sighed.  “Of all the ridiculous….”

“...Does that change things?”

“Not really, it’s just…”  He drummed his fingers on the desk testily.  “He does that from time to time, normally when he’s drunk.  He changes the target of my affections occasionally.  Usually it’s Blackquill these days.  After all, I helped save his life, obviously I must be...”  he trailed off distractedly.  “To think his idiotic rambling...”

“...I’m sorry?”

To his surprise, Edgeworth strode strongly around the desk, took his shoulders roughly, and claimed the attorney’s mouth in a dominating kiss.  “I refuse to acknowledge his role in my current happiness.”  he announced curtly as he pulled away.

“...Sorry?”

“But you...” Miles continued.  “If I’d known that was all it took, I would have started rumors myself.”  His hips angled forward, trapping Phoenix against the desk, and it was suddenly very apparent that his partner was more than ready for a second go already.  Lips closed on his mouth again, and Phoenix was again blown away by the fact that he was in a heavily physical relationship with High Prosecutor Miles Edgeworth.  He leaned into the other body, shifting to better accommodate the angles with his own…

“Hey, Pal, I- whoaaaaaa!” Phoenix jumped back, forgetting that there was nothing behind him but desk, and impaled himself on Edgeworth’s name plate. “Should… I…?

“Detective!” Edgeworth answered with his usual composure and a great deal more than his usual contentment.  “Mr. Wright and I were just discussing the opportunity of a new partnership.  And I did indeed call you for a reason.”  Ignoring Phoenix, he walked to meet the tall detective. “I need you to pick something up from the drugstore, can you do that for me?  it’s a personal matter, so I’m afraid you’ll need to clock out for a break, but...” He slid a crisp piece of paper our of his wallet and handed it to the older man.  “This should compensate you for your troubles.”

“You don’t have to-”

“-I want to.” Edgeworth interrupted.  “The contents are rather embarrassing, but it’s already paid for and I’ve asked that the bag be stapled with the receipt on the inside.  Is that alright?”

“Well, sure, Sir, but...”

“And Detective?” Edgeworth looked up.

“Yes, Sir?”

“You may feel free to congratulate me, if you wish.”  he replied with a quiet smile.

The detective was still for a second, like a dog being invited on a couch it knows it’s not allowed on.  Then instinct took over and he enveloped his boss in a massive bear hug.  “Oh, Mr. Edgeworth, I’m just so happy for you, sir!”  He was almost bawling, and Phoenix quickly realized that Gumshoe’s unease wasn’t from catching his boss with his longtime rival, but merely not knowing how their relationship allowed him to react.  “Good for you, sir!”  He gestured towards Phoenix. “You too, come here!”

“I’m… good, thank you.”

Edgeworth scowled over the massive bulk of one of Gumshoe’s arms.  “If I have to, you have to.”  he commanded, only half joking, and Phoenix begrudgingly joined the group hug.

“Who was it that confessed?”  Gumshoe asked.

“Wright, actually.”

“Congratulations, Pal!”  Phoenix was rewarded with a hearty thump on his shoulder that threatened to knock the wind out of him.  “See, Mr. Edgeworth, I told you that piece of fluff with the braids didn’t have anything on you!”

“Detective!” For the first time in the conversation, Edgeworth went full scarlet in the face.  “I told you-!”

“Oh!”  Gumshoe straightened nervously. “I mean, Mr. Bright-”

“-Wright.” Edgeworth corrected.

“Mr. Wright, Sir, he never spoke badly about… well her, it’s just, I mean, I’m not even gay but Mr. Edgeworth is something else!”  Like a parent who didn’t want to speak badly about the other kids in the class but was absolutely convinced that his child was a pure prodigy.  “I mean, I guess you know, if you’ve been kissing on him-”

“Detective.”

“-And he really deserves someone to treat him right, and I guess your salary isn’t that great, but he can-”

“-Detective.” this time it was more authoritative.

“Oh, and I, uh, guess I’m still kinda interrupting things, but I’m really happy for you both, and you’re always welcome to dinner, and Maggey will make a cake-”

“Thank you, Detective.  The order is under my name, but the clerk knows you by now, so you shouldn’t have a problem.”

“Yes Sir!” Gumshoe answered with a salute he recognized as Maggey’s signature response, and Phoenix wondered who had picked it up from whom.  “Good luck, Sir!”  He ran out the door, slamming it boisterously on the way.

“Good luck with what?”  Miles wondered aloud.

“… So… Gumshoe knows?”

“Although he still doesn’t remember your name, apparently.”  Edgeworth noted.  “Yes, he does.  I assure you I never told him anything, but he is actually a detective, and he does occasionally do his job.  Not always when I’d prefer.”

“...Did you just send him on a lube run?”

“And condoms.” Miles noted.  “And before you ask, it’s a matter of hygiene and I use them on toys as well.”

“I could have gotten-”

“I trust you with a great many things, Mr. Wright, but I assure you that I do not trust you to purchase the brands based on their protection against injury and infection rather than their cost.

“I could’ve-”

“What brand of condoms do you use?”

“I, uh...”

“What’s on sale?”

“Shove it.” Phoenix sulked.

“Oh, I intend to.” Miles smiled.  “But I intend to do my shoving using glycerin-free water based lube and individually tested condoms.  Now, I don’t mind telling you that that your self-imposed curfew is going to make things difficult.  I don’t normally get out of here before eight. If you could be here by, say, eight fifteen I could give you a ride home and still make sure it’s worth both our whiles.”

“Wait, Trucy will be home by then, so we couldn’t...you know, at my place.  The walls are pretty thin.”

“I live in Santa Monica, I doubt we’d have time to make it to my house and back even under optimal traffic.  That leaves the office or the car.”

“You live in Santa Monica? Wait, you have a house? Not an apartment?”

Edgeworth sighed. “Do you really believe I’d waste so much money on something as extravagant as a sports car if I hadn’t taken care of basic living arrangements?  Besides, it was hardly fair to Fushimi.” <- one of two dogs, it became my headcanon after working on this that Edgeworth has a problem with picking up dogs when puppy mills are busted and may have even financially helped Gumshoe get into a house because Gumshoe does better with multiple and badly trained dogs while Edgeworth finds homes for them.  Also that Miles may use his position to try to influence people into adopting dogs?

---

Ended there when I realized getting into the house and the dog was just way too much talking.  Parts of this were cannibalized into the finished story.  Gumshoe’s mention of Iris made more sense when they’d just finished talking about her and how Edgeworth had been keeping tabs on them.  The Iris part seemed pretty heavy and possibly like it should be a separate fic, I’m interested in the possible similarities between Dahlia and Von Karma. Also Edgeworth going in and out of suicidal talk seemed abrupt.