#i wish i had something more meaningful to say but my professor is killing my last braincells

[marciego]

Ok, this is like a cheat ask for your boring class, is there anything you've been wanting to post about but haven't yet? Here's an excuse to do it

ohh that's so nice of you thank you so much!!

sadly i don't have anything very deep in mind right now but i have a suggestion for everyone here, if you watch the first 20 eps of s3 with the idea that diego is marco's lover and that's what he refuses to tell francesca every scene between them almost makes more sense than what's canonically happening and i think that's hilarious

there's especially one scene (i can't remember which ep i've been trying to find it again for weeks now) where diego is mad at marco and there's literally no heterosexual explanation for this conversation this is SO funny, if i find it again someday i'll reblog this post to show everyone lmao

[cuquitalocita]

all you do is pine- percabeth

AN: i didn’t really like the ending to this one but i wrote something finally! also i just love modern percabeth can’t you tell? 

~~

“Uh… five?” Annabeth throws her pencil down in frustration, the sound echoing around the almost silent library. Across from her, Rachel bites her lip to keep from laughing and the look Annabeth sends her has the girl pulling Annabeth’s paper to her side of the table. 

“Ah, I see what you did. That’s a six A, not a nine.” Annabeth glares at the red ink now covering her paper and curses her dyslexia for making college so much more difficult than it should be. Annabeth had handled high school just fine, moving across the country a few times, but other than that, no issues. But freshman year of college was kicking her ass. 

“How am I supposed to pass this class if I can’t even read the problem correctly, to begin with?” Annabeth complains. The heads of her friends at the tables around her turned to her, offering sympathetic glances saying they understood how awful their dyslexia could be. 

“Maybe you can just light Professor Brunner’s classroom on fire,” Leo supplies from where he sits next to Calypso doing physics homework. His girlfriend slaps the back of his head.

“That’s arson, Leo,” she reminds him. 

“So what?”

“So it’s illegal, genius.” The voice of her best friend has Annabeth sitting straighter and Percy drops into the seat next to her, looking perfect as ever with his messy black hair and green eyes. “Last I checked you can’t vandalize a classroom.”

“How would you know Jackson?” Annabeth pipes up. “If I remember correctly, senior year of high school you vandalized Mrs. Dodd’s room.” Percy grinned at her, the memory flashing through his eyes, and the two burst into laughter. 

If there was anything that made college easier, it was having her best friend next to her to suffer through it all with her. She and Percy had grown up together, living in the same neighborhood since middle school and being best friends ever since. Annabeth couldn’t be more grateful that they both managed to get into the same college.

She just wishes she wasn’t in love with him.

Never in a million years could Annabeth have predicted she would fall for her annoying, clueless neighbor. Yet here she was- hopeless. 

Annabeth turns, sticking her nose back into her math textbook to keep him from seeing the red that now dots her cheeks. She catches Piper’s eye from the table next to her and the girl raises a brow. Annabeth shoots her a warning look and Piper sighs audibly.

“Well I don’t know about you guys, but I’m over this. I’ve gotta meet Jace for date night- so see you around losers.” Piper leaves Annabeth with a knowing pinch of her shoulder and she grips her pencil tighter.

“We’re out too,” Leo and Calypso say grabbing their bags and standing up. “Date night waits for no one.” The library quiets down until it’s just Rachel, Percy, and Annabeth. Annabeth glances up to see Rachel and Percy looking at each other, a meaningful look in both of their eyes as if silently speaking to each other, just like she and Percy often did themselves. 

Annabeth bites down on her jealousy. 

“Oh gods,” Rachel mutters. “I’m late to tutor Octavian.” All three of them visibly grimace at the mention of the blonde idiot and Rachel scurries out of the library.

“Well,” Percy sighs. “Looks like it’s just us again Wise Girl.”

“What’s changed?” She smiles down at her paper. At that moment a text appears on her phone from Hazel.

>> Hey, can’t make movie night tonight, Frank just surprised me with dinner and a movie!!

>> Aw, that’s so sweet :) No issues, next time for sure

Annabeth groans and places her phone down. Percy shoots her a questioning look from behind his laptop screen. 

“There go my plans for tonight. Hazel’s out.” Annabeth glances at the clock, figuring it was time to return to the apartment she shared with Piper to finish up some homework. 

“Hey, why don’t we do something?” Percy’s voice is awkward when he asks and Annabeth can’t help but think how he sounds just like he did when he was twelve. She turned to him, her curls bouncing in her ponytail behind her. “We haven’t had a movie night since this semester started. Everyone’s out on date’s so let’s have a friend’s date. We can even order takeout.” Percy levels her with a kind smile and Annabeth tried not to melt on the spot. 

“I’d love to Percy, I really would. But this project is kicking my ass and-”

“Come on, Annabeth,” he whined. “Pleeeeeeeeease? I’ll even fight the spiders in your apartment for you.” Annabeth’s resolve had cracked at please but she smiled anyway. 

She rolls her eyes affectionately, hoping this wasn’t a mistake.

“Come over at six, Seaweed Brain. And don’t even think about coming without food.”

~~

Percy shows up late, unsurprisingly, and Annabeth is in front of the TV with a physics textbook in her lap when he walks in sporting the key to her apartment she had given him months ago. 

Annabeth opens her mouth with a quick insult but Percy cuts her off.

“Before you say anything about me being late- I brought you pretzels.” A box of chocolate-covered pretzels falls into her lap a moment later and Percy collapses onto the couch next to her soon after. Annabeth tries her hardest not to lean into him or inhale his scent. It’s easy to think that seawater would smell disgusting. Like seaweed and dead fish. But Percy’s always made it smell good.

“So what are we watching?” Percy asks as Annabeth flips her page. Before she can grab her pencil again, Percy’s hand is over hers, ripping it away and chucking it across the room. Annabeth gapes at him.

“What the hell, Percy? I was using that.” Percy shrugs, opening a bag of popcorn he brought and shoving some in his mouth. 

“Not anymore you’re not. Movie night, Wise Girl. Remember?” Annabeth arches a brow and a slice of satisfaction courses through her as he turns a slight shade of gray in nervousness.

“You do realize I’m a forensic science major right?” That as well as architecture. “I could kill you and hide the evidence. No one would ever find the body.” Percy grins, visibly relieved that she’s joking, and relaxes his shoulders. He grabs her textbook from her lap and places it on the ground, grabbing her hand that held the pencil and lacing his fingers through hers instead.

Annabeth shoots him a questioning look and pushes down the blush that’s threatening to pour over her cheeks. 

“Gotta make sure you don’t grab that pencil again.” Percy shrugs, putting their hands on his lap as he turns his attention back to the television. At this point, Annabeth is trying her hardest not to combust. So instead she rolls her eyes and puts on Finding Nemo, Percy’s favorite movie. With as much as Annabeth claims to hate it, the way Percy voices each of the characters every time he watches it makes her laugh. 

Percy doesn’t say anything as the movie starts, not even to ask why she’s playing a movie she doesn’t like, and the two friends drift into a comfortable silence. 

Halfway through the movie, Annabeth is itching to get off the couch. Percy has started playing with her fingers instead of just holding them now, and Annabeth doesn’t think she can handle this much longer. So as Percy is voicing Squirt’s voice cuter than even the original actor can, Annabeth stands up, taking her hand away from Percy’s and ignoring his frown, and grabs her phone, pretending someone’s calling. 

“It’s uh… Luke,” she stutters out. Annabeth runs out of the room before she can register the look that flashes over Percy’s face at the mention of the boy from her physics class. The door to her room is slammed shut before she hears Percy’s response and Annabeth hangs her head in her hands. 

“Gods, Annabeth! What’s wrong with you? This is Percy!” 

Yeah, the Percy that you’re in love with. 

So Annabeth pulls herself together. She walks over to her bathroom and splashes a bucketful of freezing water over her face.

“Pull yourself together, Chase.” 

When Annabeth walks back out of the room, Percy is on the phone talking to someone. Annabeth realizes he hasn’t heard her door open and she can’t help but lean against her door frame to watch him for a moment.

He really is handsome, she can’t help but notice. He had gone from a cute kid to a handsome guy, and it was starting to keep her up at night.

“I don’t know Rach,” he was saying, and Annabeth fought down the swell of jealousy in her chest. She liked Rachel- she really did. What she didn’t like was how interested she seemed in Percy. The looks Rachel would shoot her when she was talking to Percy didn’t help either. “I just-”

“Percy, I swear to all the gods. If you don’t make a move soon-”

“I can’t just make a move Rachel. She doesn’t feel the same way and I’ve ruined years of friendship.” Rachel sighs from across the line and Annabeth doesn’t think she’s breathing. When Rachel speaks again, she’s clearly frustrated.

“Percy, Annabeth is hot. You have to have noticed that by now.” She states it as a fact and Annabeth holds back a snort. And then she realizes that the conversation is about her. Percy and Rachel are talking about his feelings for her. Annabeth thinks she’s going to faint. 

“Yes, Rach. I know she’s hot.” The statement sends a blush to her cheeks and Annabeth fights to stay silent as she watches her best friend squirm. 

“Right, and sooner or later, other people are gonna start noticing too. If you don’t say something soon, she’s going to move on, and you’ll really lose your chance.”

“She’s already gone,” he sighs defeated. “I think she’s into that guy Luke from her physics class.” Annabeth wanted to scream. Did he really think she liked Luke? What a Seaweed Brain. 

“God Percy, you really are an idiot, aren’t you? All you do is pine over this girl, and if you haven’t realized she’s pining just as hard for you, I don’t know what to tell you.” 

“Rachel, she’s my best friend. She would never-”

“Like you back?” Annabeth’s voice shocks him so much that he hangs up the phone and drops it on the ground. “Think again, Seaweed Brain.” Annabeth tilts the corner of her mouth into a small smile and comes to sit next to him on the couch. 

“A-Annabeth!” he stutters and Annabeth loves the blush that appears on his cheeks. “You- I- when did you- wait what?”

“You’re not seriously saying you didn’t know I’m in love with you.” Annabeth thinks she might be blushing, but she really doesn’t care anymore. Her best friend likes her back. 

“You’re what? But I’m in love with you.” Her heart stutters in her chest.

Annabeth’s laugh brings a grin to Percy’s face and she can’t help but brush a kiss to his cheek.

“Funny how that works, huh?”

~~

“Person A and Person B are friends and neither of them have a date for Valentine’s Day, so they decide to order takeout and watch a movie together. At some point, hidden feelings are revealed.”

~~

yeah i love them... 

[my-bated-breath]

Research Shows that Zutara Would Have Been the Ideal Friends to Lovers Dynamic

(featured below: a very self-indulgent Zutara post that uses Facts and Evidence to be self-indulgent)

When I joined the ATLA fandom, a common trend I've seen used to discredit Zutara was the belief that upon transitioning from a platonic relationship to a romantic one, Zuko and Katara would immediately become The Worst (TM) for each other. It's quite the stretch, and the Zutara fandom nearly unanimously recognizes that. Still, since the attacks have yet to cease even 15 years after the show’s first release, I'd like to add my two-cents on the subject, along with a reference to actual research that is much harder to dismiss.

The reason why Zutara is framed as a “toxic and unhealthy” relationship is that their romance would be a classic example of the enemies-to-lovers trope, a trope which modern media has not been particularly kind to. However, when executed correctly, enemies-to-lovers can produce a healthy and loving relationship, frequently relying on friendship as an intermediate between the “enemy” and “lover” stages in the most well-executed versions of this trope. Meanwhile, the trope of friends-to-lovers is just as popular as enemies-to-lovers, though the specific dynamic required between two individuals to achieve this transition is not well-known. Recognizing this, Laura K. Guerrero and Paul A. Mongeau, both of whom are involved in relationship-related research as professors at Arizona State University, wrote a research paper on how friendships may transition into romantic relationships.

While “On Becoming ‘More Than Friends: The Transition From Friendship to Romantic Relationship” covers a variety of aspects regarding how friends may approach a budding romantic relationship, this meta will focus on the section titled “The Trajectory from Platonic Friendship to Romantic Relationship,” which describes stages of intimacy that are in common between platonic and romantic relationships.

(I am only using this one source for my meta because as much as I love research and argumentative writing, I can only give myself so much more school work before I break. If you wish to see more sources that corroborate the argument from above, refer to the end of this meta at the “Works Cited.”)

According to Guerrero and Mongeau, “...scholars have argued that intimacy is located in different types of interactions, ranging from sexual activity and physical contact to warm, cozy interactions that can occur between friends, family members, and lovers…” Guerrero and Mongeau then reference a relationship model where the initial stages (i.e. perceiving similarities, achieving rapport, and inducing self-disclosure) reflect platonic/romantic intimacy through communication while the latter stages (i.e. role-taking, achieving interpersonal role fit, and achieving dyadic crystallization) often see both individuals as achieving a higher level of intimacy that involves more self-awareness.

Definitions, because some terminology in this quote is field-specific:

_____

Perception of similarity: (similar in background, values, etc.) which contributes to pair rapport

Pair rapport: produces positive emotional and behavioral responses to the partner, promotes effective communication and instills feelings of self-validation

Self-disclosure: a process of communication by which one person reveals information about themselves to another. The information can be descriptive or evaluative and can include thoughts, feelings, aspirations, goals, failures, successes, fears, and dreams, as well as one's likes, dislikes, and favorites.

Role-taking: ability to understand the partner's perspective and empathize with his/her role in the interaction and the relationship

Role-fit: partners assess the extent of their similarities in personality, needs, and roles

Dyadic crystallization: partners become increasingly involved with each other and committed to the relationship and they form an identity as a committed couple

_____

(Source: Quizlet -- not the most reliable source, I know, but once again field-specific terms tend to be ubiquitous in their definitions, and I doubt that this Quizlet can be that inaccurate)

(Additional note: only the first three definitions will be relevant to this meta, but the other definitions are left in for all of you who want to speculate what the next part of this meta, which may or may not be published the following week, will be about.)

Let’s apply what we just learned back to the real Zuko-Katara relationship we see throughout the show. What attributes of healthy and natural friends-to-lovers dynamics may they check off?

Perceiving similarities:

Zuko and Katara share an astounding number of parallels in background and character throughout the show. Both their mothers had sacrificed their lives to save them, and then there are many deliberate parallels drawn between Zuko and Katara’s confrontations in the Day of Black Sun and The Southern Raiders, respectively. Of course, there are more, but since I do not have much to add to this subject, I’ll say that perceiving these similarities helps contribute to…

Pair rapport:

We see three standout examples of this from the show in which Zuko and Katara ��make positive emotional and behavioral responses” towards each other: In the Crossroads of Destiny, the Southern Raiders, and Sozin's Comet, Part 2: The Old Masters.

(1) Crossroads of Destiny. Zuko and Katara bond over the loss of their mothers in the Crystal Catacombs, allowing themselves to truly see the other for the first time as well as for them to speak civilly and intimately (is this self-disclosure I see?) with each other. Of course, their conversation (on-screen or off-screen) is meaningful enough for Katara to offer to use the Spirit Oasis water to heal Zuko’s scar.

(2) The Southern Raiders. The journey Zuko and Katara take for her to achieve closure (which is something Zuko himself knew was necessary to heal and grow) is the catalyst for Katara forgiving Zuko. Though there is no true “rapport” in the scene where Katara forgives him, all other banter/conversations (in the Ember Island Players and the ATLA finale) between Katara and Zuko are reliant on the moment she forgives him.

(3) Sozin's Comet, Part 2: The Old Masters. In the finale, Zuko experiences a moment of uncertainty before just before he faces his uncle -- his uncle who had always been there for him since the days of his banishment, his uncle had loved him unconditionally even when Zuko did not know that such love was possible, his uncle who loved him like his own son, his uncle who he betrayed in the Crystal Catacombs, his uncle who turned away when he was encased in crystal, too disappointed to look him in the eye. He tells this to Katara -- and what does Katara say to Zuko in response?

“Then he'll forgive you. He will.”

The dialogue speaks for itself. The positive emotional response, the open communication, and the (rightful) encouragement Katara provides, all without invalidating Zuko’s self-doubt, demonstrates the epitome of pair rapport. Further elaboration would simply be me gushing over their dynamic.

Self-disclosure:

Self-disclosure involves revealing intimate feelings. We’re revisiting the same three episodes that we covered up above since they all include self-disclosure.

(1) The Crossroads of Destiny. When he reaches out in the Crystal Catacombs, Zuko reveals something to Katara that he has never told anyone before, perhaps something he didn’t even want to admit to himself -- in response to “the Fire Nation took my mother away from me” he says “that's something we have in common.” And to say that out loud, to say it to himself and Katara when for three whole years he’s been trying to convince himself that the Fire Nation is good and that his father loves him -- there are no words to describe it. It’s both awe-inspiring and heartbreaking to see that Zuko and Katara’s shared pain is what allowed them to see each other as more than the “face of the enemy,” and it’s something so poignant that it forms an immediately profound connection between the two.

(2) The Southern Raiders. On their way to the Fire Nation communications tower on Whale Tail Island, Katara tells the story of her mother’s death, a story that has haunted her memories for years, looming over her as a ghost, a wound that festers into fear to grief to anger. This was the moment that divided Katara’s life into the Before and the After, the one that forced her to abandon childhood and to become a mother to her own brother (as implied by Sokka in his conversation with Toph in the Runaway). And yet this is the first time we see her tell someone her story in the show, full and vivid as if it happened yesterday. Because even though she mentioned her mother before to Aang, Haru, and Jet in order to sympathize with them -- it’s just that. Sympathizing. This time she tells Zuko about her mother’s death for her own sake rather than for another’s. And it’s an incredibly intimate moment, one that is made even more fragile, wrenching, and beautiful by Zuko’s response -- “Your mother was a brave woman.”

(3) Sozin's Comet, Part 2: The Old Masters. Throughout the second half of season 3, Zuko shares his love and insecurities regarding Iroh to every member of the GAang.

In the Firebending Masters, he mentions to Aang offhandedly -- and perhaps too offhandedly, as if he didn’t want to believe it himself -- that Iroh, Dragon of the West, received his honorary title for killing the last dragon.

An episode later in part one of the Boiling Rock, Zuko talks about his uncle with near constancy. He brews tea for the GAang and (endearingly) tries retelling “Uncle’s favorite tea joke.” He tells Sokka, “Hey, hold on. Not everyone in my family is like that… I  meant my uncle. He was more of a father to me. And I really let him down.” He (fails at, adorably) giving advice to Sokka when the rescue mission to the Boiling Rock has begun to look helpless, asking himself “what would Uncle say?” before completely floundering away.

Then, in the Ember Island Players, he shares a sweet moment with Toph, bitterly spitting out that

“...for me, [the play] takes all the mistakes I've made in my life, and shoves them back in my face. My uncle, he's always been on my side, even when things were bad. He was there for me, he taught me so much, and how do I repay him? With a knife in his back. It's my greatest regret, and I may never get to redeem myself.”

Toph, in turn, reveals the thoughtful side to her character, the side that is almost always hidden, telling Zuko that “you have redeemed yourself to your uncle. You don't realize it, but you already have.”

And every one of these moments matter, because we see Zuko’s inner conflict (though this inner conflict does not exist to the extent at which it did at the first half of season 3) and its evolution. First, with Aang, he remains skeptical and disillusioned. Second, with Sokka, his longing for Iroh’s love and presence manifests itself in him imitating his uncle as well as he can. Third, with Toph, he finally admits everything he had been afraid of ever since he saw Iroh’s empty prison cell during the eclipse -- that Iroh is disappointed in him. That Iroh hates him. That Iroh will never accept him again.

And for a moment, with Toph’s encouraging response and Zuko’s resulting little smile, it appears as though Zuko’s internal conflict arc is concluded. But we are wrong -- because in the finale of the show, we are given the true climax and resolution to Zuko’s insecurities, fears, and self-loathing. And who is it that he shares this moment with?

It speaks volumes about Zuko and Katara’s relationship that Katara is the one to comfort Zuko in this scene, in that last moment of hesitation right before he steps inside his uncle’s tent, preparing himself to see his uncle as a completely changed person. As a person who now knows humility and unconditional love. And remember -- selecting Katara to be in this scene is a deliberate narrative choice because ATLA was written by a team of producers and writers, and perhaps even if it wasn’t, it becomes a powerful moment in which Zuko’s arc with Iroh reaches its peak.

Simply having Katara there in this scene already has such a great narrative impact, but then the show gives us some of the most intimate dialogue that Zuko, a naturally closed-off person, delivers (although his emotional outbursts may suggest otherwise, Zuko tends to hide most of his internally conflicting feelings to himself. Hence, he is always able to dramatically monologue about his honor, his country, and his throne -- because he’s trying to convince himself to play a part. But that’s another meta for another day).

Let’s begin by comparing Toph and Zuko’s dialogue with Katara and Zuko’s dialogue because both see the other party validating Zuko’s feelings.

(Warning: the following section plunges deep into the realm of speculation and overanalyzing dialogue. Regarding literature or any media, there are countless ways to interpret the source material, and this is simply one way it could be done.)

_____

Ember Island Players Dialogue:

Toph: Geez, everyone's getting so upset about their characters. Even you seem more down than usual, and that's saying something!

Zuko: You don't get it, it's different for you. You get a muscly version of yourself, taking down ten bad guys at once, and making sassy remarks.

Toph: Yeah, that's pretty great!

Zuko: But for me, it takes all the mistakes I've made in my life, and shoves them back in my face. My uncle, he's always been on my side, even when things were bad. He was there for me, he taught me so much, and how do I repay him? With a knife in his back. It's my greatest regret, and I may never get to redeem myself.

_____

Although Toph and Zuko’s dynamic is one of the most innocent and understanding throughout the show, the conversation begins with Toph joking with a negative connotation -- that “even [Zuko seemed] more down than usual, and that’s saying something!” Thus, the conversation opener is not one that allows for Zuko to easily be emotionally vulnerable, and so he responds bitterly and angrily -- “You don’t get it, it’s different for you” and “...and how do I repay him? With a knife in his back.” By stating that their portrayals in the shows were different, Zuko mentally places a wall between himself and Toph, saying that “[Toph doesn’t] get it.” Then, the rhetorical question Zuko asks himself and the shortness with which he answers the question showcases a forceful and biting tone, indicating that he is covering up his inner turmoil with vehemence. This tendency is something we’ve seen Zuko default to before, whenever he had shouted the oft-mocked “I must restore my honor!” lines in response to a few introspective questions Iroh had asked (though once again, that’s another meta for another day). Now, let’s examine the remainder of their conversation.

_____

Ember Island Players Dialogue Continued:

Toph: You have redeemed yourself to your uncle. You don't realize it, but you already have.

Zuko: How do you know?

Toph: Because I once had a long conversation with the guy, and all he would talk about was you.

Zuko: Really?

Toph: Yeah, and it was kind of annoying.

Zuko: Oh, sorry.

_____

Here we see Toph and Zuko’s conversation take a more serious turn as Toph becomes more sincere. Zuko, however, is still full of self-doubt as he is constantly questioning Toph with “how do you know?” and “really” and “oh, sorry.”

(featured up above: Zuko looking dejected and doubtful.)

Still, the conversation ends on a sweet and inspiring note:

_____

Ember Island Players Dialogue Continued:

Toph: But it was also very sweet. All your uncle wanted was for you to find your own path, and see the light. Now you're here with us. He'd be proud.

_____

Hence, though Zuko and Toph’s conversation displays a heartening and hopeful dynamic, Zuko is ultimately still guarded for the majority of their conversation. Now, let’s look at how Katara approaches Zuko in the Sozin’s Comet, Part 2: The Old Masters.

_____

Sozin’s Comet, Part 2: The Old Masters Dialogue:

Katara: Are you okay?

Zuko: No, I'm not okay. My uncle hates me, I know it. He loved and supported me in every way he could, and I still turned against him. How can I even face him?

Katara: Zuko, you're sorry for what you did, right?

Zuko: More sorry than I've been about anything in my entire life.

_____

In direct contrast to the conversation opener with Toph, Katara begins to engage Zuko with an openly concerned question. And even though Katara never disappointed an Iroh-figure in her life in the way Zuko has, Zuko immediately doesn’t close himself off from her, he doesn’t create a wall that prevents him from revealing his deepest fears to her. During this scene, he neither sounds bitter or angry -- he sounds lost, doubtful, and afraid (perhaps even afraid to hope). This shift in tone is blatant in his voice (thanks to Dante Basco’s line delivery) but even with nothing but the written dialogue, we can note the difference in which he describes his turmoil to Toph and as compared to Katara:

With Toph: “But for me, it takes all the mistakes I've made in my life, and shoves them back in my face. My uncle, he's always been on my side, even when things were bad. He was there for me, he taught me so much, and how do I repay him? With a knife in his back. It's my greatest regret, and I may never get to redeem myself.”

With Katara: “No, I'm not okay. My uncle hates me, I know it. He loved and supported me in every way he could, and I still turned against him. How can I even face him?”

With Katara, the underlying bitterness from his conversation with Toph is toned down to the point of nonexistence, though a part of it is still there. With Toph, Zuko says, “it takes all the mistakes I’ve made in my life, and shoves them back in my face,” which is a rather incensed statement. Meanwhile, by saying, “no, I'm not okay. My uncle hates me, I know it,” Zuko directly addresses his self-loathing without the use of language such as “shoves them back in my face,” the latter of which is reminiscent of how individuals may unthinkingly reveal information in a sudden emotional outburst.

Then, when Katara asks him if he’s sorry for what he did, the words come easily to Zuko, the most easily he admits to his own mistakes after three years of not admitting anything truthful to himself: “More sorry than I've been about anything in my entire life.”

And Katara, just as Toph did, says with the utmost confidence and sincerity, “Then he'll forgive you. He will.”

This moment of affirmation that runs parallel between both dialogues is where Zuko’s responses begin to diverge. Whereas Zuko reacts to Toph with disbelief and doubt, this is how he reacts once he hears Katara’s words:

He takes Katara’s words to heart and accepts them. Because out of all the GAang, Katara is the one who knows the most about forgiving him, who most keenly feels the change he underwent since his betrayal in the catacombs. And so he stands, still nervous but no longer afraid, facing forward towards the future instead of back into his past.

Iroh and Zuko’s relationship is one of the most important ones throughout the entire show, so to see Katara play a pivotal role in a critical point in their dynamic shows just how important Katara’s character is to Zuko (and vice versa, though in here I do touch upon the former in more detail).

Although my analysis on the self-disclosure between Zuko and Katara may have run away from me a bit (due to my love for far-too-in-depth critical analysis), these all show an undeniable bond between Zuko and Katara, displaying a profound friendship rooted in narrative parallels, mutual understanding, and interwoven character arcs. Ultimately, their fulfillment of perceived similarities, pair rapport, and (the one I rambled most on) self-disclosure is what establishes Zuko and Katara as not just a strong platonic bond -- but one that has the potential to transition into a romantic one.

Thus concludes my essay on Zutara’s friendship and its connection with the initial stages of intimacy that are shared between both platonic and romantic bonds. After all that analysis, it would be remiss to simply dismiss the Zutara dynamic as one that would instantly become toxic should they pursue a romantic relationship.

That being said, I will explore the possibility of a romantic relationship between Zuko and Katara and how this connects to the latter stages of intimacy -- role-taking, interpersonal role fit, and dyadic crystallization -- in part 2 of this meta-analysis. Click on the link if you want to read it!

Part 2

Works Cited

(only partially in MLA 8 format because I want to live a little)

Close Relationships: A Sourcebook. By Clyde A. Hendrick & Susan S. Hendrick. Link

“Nonverbal behavior in intimate interactions and intimate relationships.” By P.A Andersen, Laura K. Guerrero, & Susanne M. Jones. Link

“On Becoming ‘More Than Friends’: The Transition From Friendship to Romantic Relationship.” By Laura K. Guerrero & Paul A. Mongeau. Link

The Psychology of Intimacy (The Guilford Series on Personal Relationships). By Karen J. Prager. Link

(If you check some of these links, you may note a few of these sources have been cited quite a few times. With just a bit more research, it appears possible to find a plethora of other sources to corroborate the theory of shared platonic-romantic intimacies.)

Thank you all for reading!

[vaguely-concerned]

X-men Evolution; the great 2021 rewatch liveblog

exactly what it says on the tin, about halfway through the show I had TOO MANY FEELINGS and had to start writing some of them out haha (gets quite gambit & rogue/gambit heavy in the latter half, Because of Who I Am as a Person)

- this is my childhood’s x-men, my formative experience with them, and I’m happy to report that still seems like a good thing. the little eleven year old within me gets to geek out and have a good time with the characters and the surprisingly good animation and writing, adult me gets to CACKLE at regular intervals at the fashion/technology/absolute bonkers hot garbage comic book nonsense they use to justify a storyline every now and then, it’s been a good time 

- I was like ‘ah well it is super dated it probably won’t be quite the same now’ and then rogue’s HAIR did the THING in the opening and ‘it’s all coming back to me now’ started playing in the background... the little baby queer in me swooning across time and space

- such a good beast, both his design and the writing, my heart aches for him all the time. he’s just so passionate! about being a teacher! helping young humans learn the stuff they’ll need in life! the most wonderful nerd man, just let good things happen for him

- I’m going to go ahead and assume that rogue’s ‘crush’ on scott is more of a deeply complex psychological process about desiring normalcy and intimacy and trying to figure out if she’s queer and dealing with her emerging sexuality and latching on to the first and best safely unavailable and nonthreatening older boy to project these issues onto rather than actually being a real thing, because I respect her so much as a person and I cannot bring myself to imagine she’s honestly attracted to a man who has POSTERS OF CARS on his bedroom wall. (I’ll give jean a break just because she seems to have a longer deeper history with him that might counteract some of that libido-kill, and also she’s a jock so lol)

like I am very sorry but can u imagine being a teenage girl with any interest in a boy with model cars in his bedroom when gambit’s swanning around being a much, much, much worse choice on almost every possible level but in a teen girl kryptonite kind of way? inconceivable  

(I drag scott quite a few times in this and it’s not because I don’t love him, it’s just his tragedy to be the most draggable man in the world)

to be fair by the time gambit shows up that whole Situation has mostly played itself out I suppose but still  

- toad’s design is so ineffably brilliant, I can’t quite tell you why but that ugly cute charm has really stuck with me, he’s one of the characters I remembered the best to this day just visually

- poor evan... he truly never had a chance, did he, they just saddled him with the most 90s teen bullshit they could come up with like he’s some kind of ‘what adult writers think teens like’ frankenstein’s monster ;______; it’s not your fault honey

- poor poor POOR storm, she gets one focus episode and they were like ‘we’re going to make an episode so racist -- ‘

I’m still STUNNED at how bad it was, but undeniably I laughed hysterically to the point that my neighbours were probably worried when that dude was earnestly like ‘He [stunningly breathlessly racist caricature of a ‘witch doctor’ guy] has stolen her powers, and he’s going to use them to take over Africa!!!’ fhajsdlfhsakjldfh oh really? tell me more, like how the fUCK this could be on television within my life time fasdlfhsdkjfhsad f  just... fahjksdfh

- it’s a testament to gambit’s appeal as a character that his charm can survive what they’ve done with his hair and beard choices in this one fajskfhs regrettable but true I still fuckn LOVE him and in my highly biased yet Correct opinion he should have been around much more. get you a man who manages to stay hot through sheer Vibes even with a bowl cut

- aw scott/jean is kind of sweet in this show even if it’s taking them forEVER to get there, I like it 

- it’s very nice of rogue to not mention magneto’s romantic daydreams and nostalgic memories about charles xavier after touching his face that one time... or maybe her brain did her a service and repressed it, there’s some stuff you shouldn’t have to know about your father figure   

- the danger room is the very definition of ‘why do we even have that lever’ and I wonder what the fuck prof x does to have enough money to replace everything that gets busted all the time

- I’d say that a lot of the writing holds up surprisingly well! (but some of it is also incredibly inexcusably racist in ways that beggar belief, so... not full marks here) the characters have distinct voices and their arcs are set up and delivered on solidly for the most part, and there’s a lot of love showing through in small moments that are just there to have a funny/interesting thing to say about the characters and how their powers work separately and in combination. listen, sometimes I get so thirsty for like. basic goddamn competency in storytelling, let me have this

- ugggggh why is there captain america in my x-men have I not suffered enough... very very funny when prof x goes ‘sounds like you knew rogers personally’ and logan is like ‘I did ;)’ *all the students ganging up on steve rogers* “did you fuck our teacher, captain america?!”

- fskadfhas WHY are you showing me hot young-ified magneto’s ass fksjahfskj charles is not even here to see it, what a tragic waste erik 

- ...I was sort of kidding before but uh I think logan genuinely did fuck captain america (or at least wishes very much that he did lol)

- wanda can have a little watching the world burn. as a treat for the way every single adult in her life has fucking failed her (’aren’t they treating you well here’ professor x she’s in a straightjacket)  

- poor rogue tho can you imagine finding out after your biggest crush on a girl yet that she’s your fucking MOM in disguise... I would break out in cold sweat every time I thought about a boob forever after

- well seems like they really just had all that homoerotic rivalry stuff between quicksilver and spyke in their first ep only to never do anything with that again ever?? I mean even without the gay undertone that seems like a dynamic you spent most of an episode setting up writers what the hell haha

- dslhfkasjlh GAMBIT THERE HE IS MY BOY IS ON THE SCENE THIS IS NOT A DRILL!!! I don’t even care about his awful hair situation or the fact that his eyes are wrong here (coloured contact lenses, maybe, for a watsonian explanation? though he’d probably have to get them made special, considering he needs the sclera and the iris covered up in different ways, I’ve seen some comic panels indicating he has been known to?)

(cute little detail: when he shuffles the cards the first time we see him he ends with removing the top card to show the ace of hearts beneath <3 foreshadowing baBEY he’s a... good-ish boy deep down. hey he tries okay shit gets complicated sometimes lol) 

- cracking UP at gambit perched cheerily on the edge of a crate dispensing cards in the middle of the battle... he’s like ‘eh it’s a livin’ sfsajkhf remy stop working for supervillains just because you had nothing to do on a thursday afternoon and they said they’d pay you

- I’m guessing magneto must have imposed a strict order of silence on these guys or something because I cannot imagine any other reason for him to shut up, especially once he notices rogue is a QTE (or, far more likely, they hadn’t settled on any voice actors for the new characters until next season haha. it is kind of odd that they’re all keeping up near monastic silence, though, even sabertooth lol) 

- WHAT an epic first meeting for us rogue/gambit fans here... first his shadow like there’s fireworks going off behind him lighting him up and then he gives her the fuckn king of hearts and she’s so enchanted by his dumb handsome face she doesn’t even notice it’s about to blow up in her hands and it all happens in heavily meaningful silence afjsdfjashjk no wonder this ship ingrained itself in my hindbrain  

yeah look smug while you can remy she’s gonna have you on your knees one day and you’ll be happy about it lol

- god storm is so COOL, everything just fading out of focus when she really gets going... give her more screen time, show!!

- mystique is every person... this person... that person... that bird... that cat... that wolf... I’m not even sure she’s not also me... are you sure she’s not you? 

- holy fuck I respect the hell out of the decision to just... blow up the entire status quo in a season ender, I only vaguely remembered that (actually in general I appreciate how good the continuity is -- buildings and places that get damaged in battles need to be repaired or rebuilt, it makes the consequences feel more real even when no one gets seriously hurt. where they get the money to restore scott’s car and logan’s motorbikes every time they go cablooie is still an open question tho lol is it credit card fraud, professor? is it telepathically acquired blackmail???) 

- I first watched this when I was nine or so, so it’s a real experience to go from my starry eyed intrigued ‘oh my god... they’re teenagers’ to my horrified adult perspective of ‘oh my god... they’re TEENAGERS D:’

that goes double for the brotherhood boys honestly, I’m here with tears in my eyes like ‘I’m sorry the system has failed you so badly you’re all just a bunch of dumb kids whose caretakers clearly fucked up spectacularly’  

like lance is always waiting for mystique to come back because she’s the closest thing he has to a safe parental figure, may we speak about how crushingly depressing that is 

- rogue is so ready to throw hands at literally any moment and for that I love and treasure her immensely (I think getting to see her be so surly and unreasonable and sometimes difficult and jealous, like any teenager, meant a lot to me as a kid who was not really allowed to be any of these things, this version of the character has stayed with me so deeply. she holds on so fiercely to her right to feel what she feels and be what she is even when it’s ‘ugly’ or unreasonable, which I think plays in really interestingly with how her powers involve getting invaded by other people’s thoughts and memories to the point of overwhelming her own sense of self and the fact that she clearly has a lot of self-loathing and self-consciousness and confusion about her identity as well. I love her so much)  

- oooof this is the ‘the gang experience a microaggression’ episode huh (well more like macroagressions really)

hits a bit different with adult eyes and perspective huh

- hearing jean sound almost like a child when she says ‘that’s so unfair!’ somehow has me like ;______; -- she has to be so adult and responsible all the time, and having her be reduced to the kid she still is and should get to be in front of this awful awful man she could squash like a bug with the flick of a thought... ugh I’m Big Sad (it is funny that jean seemingly plays Every Sport tho djfhaskj)

- MY BOY IS BACK!!! this time with the duster coat and his eyes the right colour, im so happy (too bad about the subdued colour scheme tho; I adore his dumb bright pink getup with my whole heart)

it’s kind of adorable that he takes the time to take the bullies aside and go ‘I know these guys can’t wreck you without getting expelled, but I think you’ll find no law set down by god or man would stop me from doing so whenever I wanted to. so piss off and leave them alone’ lol he’s looking out for them, in his own way

- in this episode: remy lebeau wrangles some kids while looking bored yet mildly amused the whole time. what the fuck does magneto have on you for you to agree to this level of babysitting duty buddy

- fun detail I noticed b/c when I get a fave I hyperfixate: he gave rogue the king of hearts before, but he ‘introduces’ himself to the brotherhood here (lol) with the jack of hearts, probably to symbolize he’s here as someone who works for magneto in this setting and not as his own man? it’s a demotion he’s given himself there, anyway, might be he’s not very pleased about his current position huh 

- I like it when rogue and kitty team up, they’re not very effective together but their squabbling is so cute and non-aggressive 

- pietro is what draco malfoy would be if I ever found malfoy interesting to watch for even one moment, every time quicksilver talks I’m like ‘what wonderfully insufferable thing is going to come out of your mouth this time you little shit :’)’

- a) why are scott and logan shirtless for this scene? I am not complaining on the logan side of things at least but why and b) I laughed so hard I almost fell off my couch when scott asked logan if he’d ever been in love and he was like ‘once. she was the most beautiful bike I ever saw’ falsdfhaskjfhsakjlfhasklhjfd THE BEST VERSION OF WOLVERINE EVER, ACCEPT NO SUBSTITUTES 

- mystique’s sheer dedication to being a petty bitch is kind of inspirational tbh, almost makes me want to go on a completely bonkers and extra crusade of personal revenge myself  

- oooh they’re doing some genuinely cool things with vision/lack of vision in this one (it’s the scott left on his own in the desert without glasses one btw) even visually, dang! I’m so sad this show didn’t get more seasons than it did, honestly, it deserved it

- hell yeah jean wreck her, go get your man with the suspiciously specific clothing damage normally done to female characters 

awww :’) okay yeah they’re super sweet, I love the tiny loving animation details like how he leans his head against her and her stroking his hair away from his eyes

- nooo don’t bully evan leave my t0tally r4dical sk8er boy alone :(

- I love the running joke of people fleeing in blind panic only to reveal that what they’re running from is kitty’s cheerful well meaning little face fskfaskh 

- scott and jean are already peak married after officially being together for one episode and it’s adorable, and they just stone cold threw logan under the bus, rip wolverine we hardly knew ya

fjasdlfasldfhslajdkfhsadkjlfhsdkjalfhsdakfh h jean establishing herself as the alphabitch of this relationship by throwing her man to the wolves right after dsjfhaskjfhaskjhfsakjdhfaskjhfaskdhfskjahfskdajhf get smarter or get volunteered scott 

- ...eyepatch lady is so hot ngl

oh evan went to the place hank used to go to calm down ;________; (honestly he’s kind of won a place in my heart just by being a pretty normal teenage boy haha)

- jesus fucking CHRIST can you imagine being storm having to look her sister in the eye as she tells her ‘I lost your only child, he’s *vague gesture* somewhere in the sewers we think’ this poor woman

- amanda the self admitted monster fucker you are so VALID (I love her and her family’s design so much tho!)

- it’s so cool that even in his human ‘disguise’ kurt’s fingers follow the shape of his actual hand beneath it rather than moving like a five fingered hand, it’s such a lovingly consistent little detail 

- magneto and mystique in a breathless race to see who can be the shittiest parent... tune in next week for yet another parental nadir (also some low-poly gambit appearances in this one, for those at home keeping score (me), he’s in the background looking like someone drew him with their eyes closed fakjldfhasd look how they massacred my boy)

- someone please teach the brotherhood boys about consent huh

- jean ‘soccer mom before her time’ grey and her SUV dfhakjlhds :’)

- im sobbing rogue baby girl i’m so sorryyyyyy, this voice actress is so good, my parental instincts suddenly kicked into overdrive hearing the crack in her voice :( (bb me was right tho rogue centric episodes ARE the best episodes. that tension between ‘do I identify witn this character or am I crushing on her?? both???’ now has the fun new addition of ‘oh god oh no you are a baby I want to shield you with my body from everything trying to hurt you’)

- mystique is like ‘so you see despite you telling me you never wanted to see me again I completely disrespected that and posed as a friend your age, manipulated you by offering you the mirage of direly needed emotional intimacy and belonging and added some sprinkles of homoerotic tension to it just to massively worsen your already existing grievous psychosexual trauma and identity issues... out of love’

god go jump in a black hole you fucking monster 

- there’s some very interesting and quite subtle subtext about the people she’s morphing into and what that says about her mental state/how it shows off some of her emotional baggage with the rest of the team. it’s like she’s switching between people/powers that fit the purpose as if she’s going through cycles of fight/flight (and then bursts of freeze where she’s herself, which is... so sad)

- this whole episode is hurting my heart but rogue at full power is undeniably epic  

 - ‘professor x get your goddamn act together and get this poor girl some fucking tHERAPY’ challenge

- SAFE PAPA LOGAN ;_____;

- EYYYYYY opening straight on My Lad, I cannot stop winning!!!!! 

fasdfhsad disintegrating the window with a smiley face... remy I do love you more than my heart can bear honestly, hello may we speak about the fact that his urge to be a little shit is so deep and strong it survives mind control (that little breathed out ‘hiah!’ as he vaults the fence too dsakfjsd)

hahaha and he does up the coat fhsalfdsaj 

- magneto dismissing other telepaths like ‘puh-lease, your Meaningful Looks have got nothing on my ex-husband’s’ 

- :’) rogue and kurt sibling timeees

- say what you want but this pyro guy’s got job satisfaction in being a creepy arsonist with a weird recurring horse theme (well at least twice but still weird)

- I love how beast is the kindest man to ever walk the earth but also straight up savage, this man drags people so hard their ancestors wince in their graves

- gambit taking the time to complete the guard’s game of solitaire -- this episode is giving me everything I want. u little disgrace mr lebeau

and THEN he takes the spider out in the most hilariously bonkers way my heart is so FULL

(I love that when magneto moves by he looks startled and has to quickly move his head out of the way to avoid getting kicked in the temple too that’s a fun detail)

I’m so INTO how this sequence shows off that his greatest strength isn’t even his powers (which are pretty straightforward, really, he makes go boom, longer time and bigger thing bigger boom) but that he’s clever and creative and always extremely ready to be the most harebrained-bananapants-extra-in-a-deceptively-laidback-sort-of-way person in the room (I actually have some genuinely Deep Thoughts about how his whole character does a really interesting thing with having the straightforwardly destructive nature of his powers yield to what his nature as a person is, and how using the playing cards play (heh) into it, maybe I’ll write it out some day. just the fact that he could use anything, but he deliberately chose something that adds style and playfulness and corny charm to it and that also limits the damage of the explosions compared to if he habitually used something with more mass... I find it fascinating how much he’s made a story around himself with it and how deeply it shows he does have a good heart, at the end of the day, in almost a metatextual way. he doesn’t want to destroy things or people, he’s at worst (and best lol) a thief.)

- I honestly have literally no memory of white nick fury (which seems so weird now isn’t it funny) in this series from when I was a kid, he clearly did not make an impression on me lol

- mr wolverine ‘assigned canadian at birth’ x-men 

- oh man I dig the androgynity of x-23′s outfit (even tho they had to compensate with the long hair, which... kind of doesn’t make sense in-universe but does on a design level because it’s a crucial thing that she’s a female clone of logan so yeah okay fine whatever have your arbitrary gender markers if you must haha)

ooooooh that’s actually really clever, they make her gender gradually more obvious as she unravels through the episode and her outfit changes -- first the mask coming off, and then her jacket opening to show her silhouette more clearly, that’s cool!  

- my god what really sets this show apart is how much it invests in little character and relationship moments, it’s just so fucking GOOD! it gives laura looking in on those moments such depth and weight because it’s new to her but established to us as an audience, this is how you make found family devastating people (storm growing bonsai trees is so charming too haha) 

- ooof this is honestly quite harrowing 

SHE’S SO SMALL COMPARED TO HIM I’M CRYING (at least that part of his genes translated over faslkfsjdh short king, I say this with all the love and support of a fellow short monarch)  

- tabitha seems to just be running around doing precisely whatever the fuck she wants and you know what I support her even if she is an asshole her father left her a bunch of trauma and no fucks left to give 

- still thrilled about professor x explaining the spider key fuckup to magneto after the fact like ‘magnus you dumb bitch this is why we split up’ 

- awww kitty has anime and movie posters on her wall and sleeps with a stuffed toy :’)

-          remy                           rogue

                              🤝

doing completely unnecessary parkour around the brotherhood living room seemingly just for the hell of it... I’m not saying soulmates but fucking soulmates 

- fhsadkjlfhsakjldfhsadjkfhsdajkfh just as gambit’s soul-level need to be a little shit survived his bout of mind control, rogue’s deep and urgent desire to kiss gambit full on the mouth survived hers I can’t breathe

she looks so pleased with herself too GOOD FOR YOU GIRL at least get something out of this other than more trauma 

also not only the fact that he’s smart enough to figure out what’s going on (though he’s only partially right about who’s behind it. I do so enjoy gambit/mystique deep and sincere antipathy as a constant across all universes tho lmao pure wlw/mlm hostility) but also that he keeps fending her off like he’s not trying to hurt her even though she’s in nigh on unstoppable and invulnerable terminator mode... awww 

- gambit having absolutely no patience for wolverine and sabertooth’s bullshit macho-off and consistently being this little biker trio’s one brain cell is adding years to my life with every passing moment

his voice is a little different in these scenes too, a bit softer and less like he’s trying to impress someone, it’s nice

- hank: well I barely recognize any of these (completely made up) ‘ancient egyptian hieroglyphs’ but from what I can make out -- *proceeds to infodump a perfect coherent narrative* fjdhfak  

listen this whole thing is such nonsense on so many levels, I’m just turning my brain off so I won’t have to think about it okay, the compulsion to put ancient aliens in egypt haunts us as a culture 

- I am CACKLING about gambit in the snow after having to listen to these two chucklefucks ooze testosterone at each other for hours

he started out taking it in good cheer and is now reduced to ‘dieu would both of you just jump off this fUCKING mountain please’

- ah. a little oops-a-daisy there, we seem to have unleashed the apocalypse. please stand by (they really don’t pull their punches with the season cliffhangers in this show haha)

- opening the season on gambit’s merrily grinning face is the easiest way to gain my favour. yes good this season may commence 

baby u r my

 ANGELLLLLLLL

(he’s so cute here tho haha I think it shows the design isn’t unsalvagable, just get him better hair and stubble more like logan has and you’ve basically got it) 

love his exasperated eyeroll when the dude gets spooked (by his eyes? or just the general weirdness?) too

he’s just trying to keep this crazy family of evil mutants together and unmurdered by one another until they’ve managed to avert the end of the world, bless him  

- oh NO rogue’s LIP wobbles my hhhhhheart ;____; such a good animation detail to put in

- like... I know kurt is just a sad scared teenager with a lot of shit going on and all the adults are too busy averting the end of the world to help him... but buddy maybe don’t ask your sister to wake her abuser (who forced her to kickstart the end of the world!!!!!) when she feels utterly unsafe even with her statue version around huh

- ...wanda is good and I want only good things for her. and for her dad to be disemboweled for what he did to her both the first time around and when he forced her to forget I mean what 

- magneto throwing an epic satelite-slinging tantrum b/c ‘no I am the biggest sexiest strongest mutant of the pack :(’... erik fucking get over yourself 

- yes boys absolutely go along with a plan suggested by a dude who looks at you like this 

nothing bad can come of this surely asdfkhsa

- lance’s quarter of a braincell always trying to go ‘hey wait, maybe... not do this???’ and it never helps lol

- in this episode: Logan Has A Bad Day 

...some very specific bondage positions he’s held in here, I am sure this episode awakened something in someone once upon a time lol 

- logan shielding x-23 with his body... im fine it’s okay I’m not crying don’t look at me

- afsdhlsdfjasdlk those sure are some ‘scottish’ accents flsadkjhkdsjahfsd

- scott relieved to finally be able to cede the position of ‘charles xavier’s least favourite son’ to someone else fjsaklfhsajd (poor scott it’s not your fault honey)

supremely cowardly to suggest there is an ex-wife involved rather than charles slutting his way around the british isles back in the day but okay

- kurt with a cold is the cutest thing I’ve ever seen. it’s okay kid it’ll get better soon

- ...is there an implication here that professor x is naturally blond. because I am losing my entire little mind about it (i mean he at least has to carry the gene, as does this lady?)

ETA: upon doing some research into this I can indeed confirm that charles xavier does seem to be naturally blond, and after this knowledge I will never be the same 

- “listen, dracula” fskdafghasd oh scott you sweet baby angel I love you

- I know jean’s abilities are a bit ‘as strong or as weak as the plot needs right now’ at this point (so you can have the setup for what’s going to happen with them eventually and she’s basically invincible ;____;), and normally I’m cool with it but god I want her to just squash lucas like a little bug

- ewwwww please don’t ever say ‘daddy’ like that again

- ...what the fuck is even going on this episode’s a mess 

like okay the split personality thing could be something but the way it’s done... what just happened lol

- MY BOY EVAN IS BACK! with a real glowup too (...though kind of weird how he suddenly looks like a grown man)

- augh scott’s eyes are so pretty oh my god ;__________________________;

- that episode in the first season where evan makes the ‘this is my new family!!’ video is so sad now (also, again, his poor poor parents) 

- time for: life affirming road trip with gambit (involuntary) faskljdfhaskjd

stunt therapist remy lebeau 

- I mean the way he goes about it is batshit insane and it’s very much secondary to what he’s actually up to but this is the first time rogue’s sounded genuinely hopeful and confident and like herself in like a season <3 

- he is disconcertingly pleased about her nearly throwing him off the train, and may I just say I agree it’s so nice to see rogue with her old fire back 

- the first time I watched this it was of course dubbed into norwegian, so I had no idea either of these characters were southern lol (though to be fair I probably wouldn’t have had much context for what it meant exactly either, I was like ten at the time and not too interested in america) I seem to dimly remember the norwegian voice actor did a little more of a ‘french’-tinged accent for gambit all over tho haha  

- you know what respect where it’s due, pyro dude knows to live his life for the lols and one has to admire his sociopathic dedication to it

interesting that he, too, seems to have fucking hated magneto -- I wonder if the implication here is that he kept all the acolytes in line with blackmail or by keeping something/one hostage? (except sabertooth maybe he’d just have to say ‘you get to fuck shit up and fight wolverine’ and that’d be enough)

- fsdakfhsd he’s so focused on her he doesn’t notice that guy about to hit him fkafhsa 

- fuck everything else except whatever the hell these two’ve got going on

- it’s weirdly cathartic to have rogue have a conversation with someone who was not happily adopted as well, I don’t think kurt like. gets it because his parents loved him unconditionally and still do 

birds of a feather motherfucker  

- fun detail: when the x-men team are on the shore and logan is sniffing around scott is stepping in something and trying to wipe it off his boots in the background

- when he wakes up after passing out from the touch he’s smiling even though she’s standing over him looking like the rage of god outlined by the moon fsajfsa well the last time he passed out like that it was from a kiss, maybe he still has some hopes and dreams in that direction lol (also he recovers from the tumble down the hill first and is checking on her before accidentally brushing her cheek with his hand, which I thought was sweet) 

and it was in that moment he knew he fucked up *passes out*

- ‘I can explain’ can u remy. can u  

- did it ever even occur to you to just. ask her. to help you. I mean I know it didn’t but like rogue’s always one second away from throwing hands with some bully and is stupidly ride or die, if you’d given her the puppydog eyes she would have crumbled immediately (fair enough I guess this entire episode is telling us he’s not from a background where he has much experience with people just helping him without a price haha) 

- his eyes glowing when he’s angry or upset or using a lot of his power is undeniably cool as all hell. I’m just saying it would be Big Sexy if they sort of flickered with light in moments of genuine vulnerability okay  

- his coat... his coat is what makes the Silhouette tm and I could not be happier about it 

- another parent of the year contestant enters the running lol “hey remy have you ever considered that you’re more of a walking bomb factory than a person? that’s certainly how I think of you hahaha c’mon kid let’s go” 

- the running joke of jean luc getting dollar signs in his eyes seeing the other mutant powers and gambit being like ‘nO!!!!’ and pulling him along is amazing haha

- from the way he looks when he touches rogue accidentally and the way he talks to his dad I’m sort of getting the feeling this gambit might actually be a bit younger than he looks?

here too -- idk why but it’s making the ‘wait is he baby???’ alarms go off in my head haha. very early twenties at most. 

- and we’ve officially seen him with all the face cards in the heart suit folks! (yes this is the sort of thing my brain notices no I don’t know either)

- poor logan running his ass off this whole episode in a panic and then she’s like ‘nah he’s fine (in several meanings of the word ( ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°) ) please put him down’ hfaskfsda

- rogue without makeup!!! her eyes look so naked like this haha <3

- oooh here’s a really interesting thing that tickles my brain a bit in this specific part of the scene where gambit frees his dad -- the part where he’s leaning against the door frame waiting for jean luc, who’s about to suggest using the opportunity to ruin the rival gang from the inside rather than slipping away while they still can

from his expression here he knows what’s about to happen, what jean luc is about to say, and it’s clearly a ‘man who thought he’d lost all hope loses last additional bit of hope he didn’t even know he still had’ sort of situation. he KNOWS what jean luc is like, and it still hurts that he really, honestly can’t give him even this, can’t appreciate that remy’s already done all this shit for him when he extremely didn’t have to, without immediately (no really, it took him less than ten seconds to go there? jesus) demanding more.  

remy tells him “I’m just here for you” and jean luc does not understand it. remy seems to be sincere in this motivation -- rogue certainly thinks so, having experienced it second hand and found enough at least emotional merit in it to decide he was worth saving even after all his bullshit (lol a bit of a running theme maybe. I think it’s very telling that after she absorbed mystique she was like ‘what the FUCK you’re a fucking monster’, and after she absorbed gambit she went ‘you did the wrong thing for the right reasons’ after she got over the first wave of outrage) 

there’s also what he says as he stands there: “You don’t need me for that”, with the distinct implication that jean luc would only keep him around because he has a use for him and for no other reason -- and then jean luc shamelessly doubles down on that by specifying that it’s not even him he’s got a use for as such, just his powers. that’s some kicking puppies level of deliberately missing the point, it’s almost impressive in how cheerfully mean it is haha

this idea of using people is really important in this episode because remy’s doing basically exactly the same thing to rogue to begin with; it doesn’t really matter to his plan that it’s her that’s with him through this, just what her powers are. (I think it’s  p r e t t y  solidly implied that he does actually like her a lot outside of that too and maybe there is some comfort in having her around for this, but mostly he’s behind a smokescreen of lies through the whole thing sooo I doubt he’s even aware of it, honestly)     

but then it does matter that it’s her when she comes back for him, even after what he did. and unlike jean luc he understands what that means, that she did that for him, and that she didn’t have to. and instead of asking her for more, in return he gives her the thing it’s been established is what he considers the most valuable thing he has; his ‘last card’, the thing he’s credited with keeping him alive many a time, basically. it’s gone from using to mutuality, a tentative place of friendship, and at the end of the day he is a different man than his adoptive father, with a capacity for selflessness and love he lacks. which is of course some of the same stuff going on with rogue and mystique too, except rogue acted from a more fragile and unstable place and did something she regrets, or at least has a LOT of doubts about now, and she found some catharsis in helping someone make a different choice in a similar situation. man there’s some Stuff going on under the surface here haha

(by the way it’s a weirdly... meaningless yet intensely meaningful thing, the gifting of a symbol? of an idea? but he’s putting something very crucial of himself into her hands, is the subtext, and he expects her to understand, which she also does seem to do. at the beginning of the episode he’s proving that he’s seen something true about her -- “You’re such an unhappy girl”, knowing where she comes from, the way she’s mourning her lost confidence and autonomy with her abilities -- and here she’s proving she’s seen something true about him. :’) I wish this show had gone on long enough for this dynamic to progress, it’s really interesting and touching)   

- gambit dragging himself up onto dry land seeing someone approaching (to help?!): :D

gambit seeing that it’s logan and the look on his face: D: 

- rogue using her powers so confidently and fearlessly in this episode tho!!!! 

- *me crying* and then her FAMBILY comes to take her home and he says he’s looking out for her too and kurt still loves her even though they’re having a conflict thing between them and she’s finally able to use her powers without so much fear again and --

- ...did I just watch some baby lesbian love at first sight shit right now???  

- okay last two episodes let’s go

- HELL YEAH STORM (I love that she’s like ‘don’t give me a dumb order like that and I won’t have to disobey it’ too sdfjsaj) her voice has such command I’m usually very much not the ‘step on me’ type butttt

- y’know I feel like apocalypse’s main fault across all versions I’ve seen of him is that he’s like an immortal superpowered god king and he’s not even sexy. like at least make him hot if he’s going to be insufferable in every other way 

- also callout post for apocalypse: one time he made gambit into the Horseman of Death... and didn’t even make him sexy!!! you were handed remy lebeau, supreme bi disaster slut of the x men universe, and you couldn’t even make his brainwashed superpowered evil side hot?? a beautiful stubbled twunk with glowing red eyes and extremely charming :> face practically delivers himself into your hands and you do that to him???? I mean I’m sure apocalypse did some other bad stuff too but that was the worst one

(comics are so dumb y’all) 

- having to watch jean cry is emotional terrorism!! ;___; she has such older sister/mom energy, whenever she gets sad and helpless it hurts 

- oh, OH so PROFESSOR X you’ll make into a hunk and ~*strategically*~ rip his clothes to show off a nipple and a flawless pec in a way that makes me extremely uncomfortable because he’s like The Dad??? apocalypse you are rotten to the core this is unforgivable 

- so wait wanda never actually gets her real memories back. what the FuCk I hope that was a dropped storyline because they ended the show tragically prematurely rather than like. the plan

- why is spyke calling storm ‘storm’ show that’s his auntie o!! >:(

- as a society we need to acknowledge that apocalypse looks like a fucking clown

- ooooh yeah I have been thinking that this show’s greatest visual weakness so far has been not having a visual way to show telepathy/battles of the minds, but this is a pretty cool way to do it! better late than never

- I’m so happy rogue gets to end this herself, since she was forced into starting it against her will, it’s just nice and neat storytelling

- YEAH FUCKING TELL HER KURT AND ROGUE I AM SO PROUD OF YOU and she has the temerity to look pissed off oh my god

the only valid thing mystique has done in her entire life is be in love with destiny. literally everything else she gets up to is a travesty. like I know objectively she’s hot but my loathing for her stops me from even appreciating it. I do enjoy loathing her tho so please don’t change her haha

(a bit odd to have kurt’s attitude to her swing so much but I’m just going to assume he and rogue had a good long conversation after ‘cajun spice’ and that he understands what’s going on better now)

- this last part is such a cruel tease faskdfhsdaj ‘here are all the cool-ass things we had planned. sucks you never get to see it huh’ im devastated 

- magneto without his helmet and playing charmingly with children like charles is going ‘well at least I saved my marriage finally’ fsadkhfjsd (honestly tho I would be super interested in seeing how they’d redeem this magneto because he’s been a real bitch the whole time lol) 

there’s an interesting thing here where magneto looks down at wanda as the last thing he does on screen before this epilogue part (yeah I hope it fucking haunts you forever what you did to her erik you absolute piece of hot garbage) and the last thing charles does is look at jean b/c he knows what’s going to happen to her and it breaks his heart... Dramatic Parallells  

- just the hint of jean as the phoenix has me in full D:D:D: mode tho maybe I wouldn’t have survived it

- gambit in the last groupshot with his arm around rogue ;^) I mean I’m sure they’re headed for some turns and roundabouts along the way but what’s that thing she says as her wedding vow, that she’ll always find her way back? anyway that got me in my heart

- man I really wish this show had been given more seasons, we were barely even getting warmed up here :’(

[faustrinus]

Between Snowflakes and Christmas Music

Wolfstar 

THIS IS PART ONE! Soon I’ll be posting part two :) After weeks and weeks of being followed around the castle since October started, Minerva finally had enough. James and Sirius were as insistent as a child who couldn’t get the toy they wanted could be. Hot on her heels, they were always ready with a whole speech on why they should organize The Christmas Party at Hogwarts. At first, she didn’t mind that much, but when they began to fill her chair at the Great Hall with tons of Howlers and boxes full of Christmas decorations, she couldn’t ignore it anymore. It was too much. “That shall be enough,” She said, one hand massaging her head already hurting, “Don’t you have any more important things to do, or are you too busy being up to no good to care about your homework?” “It’s kind of our thing, professor,” James said jokingly, his elbow playfully hitting Sirius’s side, an internal joke making both of them smirk, “But I promise you, it would be the best party that has ever been! We have everything planned, we even have people who would like to help us with the organization.” “And who would that be?” Sirius adjusted his messy tie before starting to speak, “Lily Evans, Remus Lupin, Peter Pettigrew, Marlene McKinnon, Dorcas Meadowes. Also, lots of younger Gryffindor are eager to participate in helping to decorate the castle.” “Have you spoken to any members of the other houses to ask them if they want to participate?” She asked, dismissing with her hand the curious students that were trying to spy on the conversation behind the hallway, ”This can’t be an only Gryffindor activity.” “Hufflepuff is on board with it, and so is Ravenclaw. We haven’t been able to talk with Slytherin because…” James faked a cough, “The Quidditch match is nearby, and we aren’t in the best terms. It has been hard getting near them.” “Okay, that's alright,” She sighed, “I will speak to professor Slughorn and then you will be on your way. Any help is needed, you can come and ask me. Just, don’t follow me around the castle anymore, Mr Potter. You too, Mr Black. Now, may you go back to your common room?” “Yes, professor!” James nodded excitedly, “C’mon Pads, we have a lot of stuff to do!” “Thank you, Professor McGonagall!” Sirius shouted while being dragged by James, “You won’t regret this!” “I hope I won’t.” She mumbled, getting back to her workday. …… “You want me to talk to a Slytherin?” Sirius huffed, his voice mixing with the excited Gryffindor students that were running from one side to the other. Since the party news surfaced among the first years, everyone was slowly finding out about the big event. Sirius was nervous, even if he had been one of the firsts students supporting James and his crazy idea. He could see how everyone was expecting the party to be the greatest thing in Hogwarts, and even if they did promise that... he wasn’t sure if they could meet the expectation that was growing bigger and bigger. On top of everything, the fact he hadn’t seen Remus in quite a while was making him feel uneasy. The lycanthrope was probably busy teaching some kids he promised professor McGonagall he was gonna help, but spending hours and hours on it felt like an exaggeration, to Sirius, at least. Not having Remus around was like losing the calm after the storm, the butterflies in the stomach turned into anxious insects that just wanted to get out and find that missing piece of them. “Mh, that’s what I said,” James repeated, his head tilted to the side, “If I try to get near them I might be killed, but you, we both know that- careful with that box, Jeremy, it has to make it to the Great Hall!” James shouted to a third-year carrying a heavy box, the short boy just nodded and smiled nervously, James smiled back, “we both know that your brother won’t let anything happen to you.” “That isn’t exactly what happened last time, Prongs,” James rolled his eyes at Sirius’s answer, “Regulus and I haven’t talked in months. And every time he sees me in the castle he turns around and ignores me.  He doesn’t want to talk to me.” “That’s what you think.” “I don’t see anything that reflects the contrary.” James scoffed, “Pads! It’s alright, trust me. Maybe you haven’t seen it, but Regulus is always staring at you when you’re not looking and-” “Pads? Prongs? What is this party thingy everyone is talking about?” Maybe the butterflies did manage to escape and reach Remus, because he was right next to James, staring both at him and Sirius with a confused gaze. The older Black had to quickly catch his breath and act totally relaxed as if he hadn’t been wishing for Remus to appear during the conversation to rescue him. “Moony!” James got excited every time he had to explain the party and how McGonagall trusted him enough to carry it out, “Do you have your head on the moon?” he was the only one that laughed at the joke, “Sirius and I are going to organize the biggest party that has ever been in this old and rusty castle!” “And McGonagall was okay with it?” “Yes.” “Seems unlikely.” “You know I’m one of her favourite students..” “Sure, whatever you say,” Remus turned to talk to Sirius, “Do you need any help with that?” He asked, referring to the box that was resting at Sirius’s feet. Sirius's mind stopped working before he could create a sentence that made sense, “What? I mean…” he looked at the box, ”Yeah, that would be great. Awesome. We need to take them to the Great Hall.” “Okay”  Remus smiled subtly and Sirius felt his heart flutter at the sight. “You guys do that, I have to…” James scratched his chin, thinking, “Invite Evans to go with me to the party. See you later.” And with that James was gone in the crowd of students of Gryffindor. “Do I need to go with someone?” Asked Remus, his hands already reaching for the box. “Not necessarily. James kind of created that to have an excuse to bother Evans a little, you know. But you can go alone,” Sirius glanced nervously, grabbing another box, “but of course, if you want to go with someone. You also can.” Remus nodded and they started walking side to side, their arms softly touching. Sirius thanked Merlin that sometimes Remus was as oblivious as James was and couldn’t notice the fact that his cheeks were as red as a tomato, because if he did he probably would ask what was the reason, and Sirius wasn’t ready to tell him you know what I have been in love with you for the last two years and I just want to grab your face and smash my lips with your lips, right? No, it was unthinkable. The only place where that would happen would be Sirius wildest dreams… If he got lucky enough to dream about it. “Sirius, can I ask you something?” Sirius tried really hard to not get his hopes up. “What were you and James talking about? you seemed tense. Like at any moment you would hit him with one of the boxes.” The wave of disappointment that came after the question wasn't extremely shocking since Sirius knew he was feeding himself with illusions, but it sure did hurt.  “Well, he can be a little...too much. I guess his whole excitement about the party passed as stress to me and I couldn't hide it.” “Really?” Remus was aching an eyebrow, his steps getting slower to match Sirius's. Something both positive and negative about him was that he had a weird ability to tell when his friends were lying. And every single time he would find out in a matter of seconds. Clearly, he was suspecting, “Don't do that, Sirius.” “Do what?” “Lie to me.” A few students that were walking back to their common room stared at them, their mouths mumbling something Sirius was too nervous to try to decipher. He felt like he was being cornered by Remus' amazing abilities to read people's lies. “Fine, I'm sorry,” He tried to laugh it off, but it didn't work the way he expected it to do, “I kind of forgot you can do that.” “It's not a superpower, it's just that you guys are fucking transparent with your emotions,” They were getting near the Great Hall, and with every old portrait they passed the voices of hundreds of students became louder and louder, “Now, tell me.” Sirius sighed and played with one of the rings adorning his fingers, even after running away from his house, he wasn't able to take off the big silver ring with a “B” on it. Maybe it was because he and his brother shared the same one. Regulus. Sirius didn't know what was going on with him, but he was sure it was nothing good. Had he forgotten about all the things they had gotten through together? Sirius understood, clearly, his brother was pissed off because he left without saying anything, but enough to just… ignore his complete existence? even when angry, Sirius was never mean to Regulus. And even at this moment where their bond was almost broken, he still cared so much for the younger Black. And maybe it was the least important thing- but it was almost Christmas, the time of the year where everyone was supposed to come together and receive meaningful gifts while eating delicious food. “You're not going to stop until I tell you, right?” “You know me well.” Sirius blushed, the ring finally resting on his thumb again, “Is about Regulus. James wants me to talk with him, just to coordinate some stuff about the party. He said it was because I am one of the only Gryffindors that wouldn't get killed at first sight if I got closer to Slytherins. But I don't know… I don't think I'm ready.” “I think you should do it,” Remus looked forward, mumbling an apology when he almost tripped with a Ravenclaw student, “You still care for you brother, and if he does the same for you- and I'm sure he does, he will listen to whatever you want to say. It's time for you two to talk about things.” “What if he hates me?” “I don't think anyone can hate you, Sirius.” Sirius felt himself choke up a little bit thanks to the little smile Remus gave him, but he coughed to hide it, quickly gaining his voice back, “Is Regulus we are talking about. But I guess… I can try.” “And If anything happens I know you would like black roses in your grave.” Sirius forgot his recent embarrassment, rolling his eyes, “Thanks.” They kept walking, shoulders touching with every step they took. Saying things were a lot easier than doing them, especially when it comes to fixing your relationship with your younger brother. Sirius could feel how the silence got a little bit tense, so he asked the first thing that came to his mind. “And are you inviting someone to the party?” “I think I will invite Dorcas. She seems down lately, I don't know. Wanna cheer her up a little.” Sirius nodded and tried to play it cool, again. Getting his hopes so high up and then getting disappointed so many times in the same conversation should be illegal. What was he waiting for, anyway? For Remus to finally realize he reciprocates Sirius's feelings and to have a romantic confession that ends up in them kissing in the middle of the hallway? “Hey, everything's okay?” The sudden question startled him, his thoughts disappearing in a cloud made of disappointment. Remus was looking at him with the typical look of I can read something is going through your mind and it was making Sirius uncomfortable. “Yup. Sorry. Just thinking if I should go with someone too.” “You didn't have anyone in mind before?” Remus sounded… different. Sirius noticed the change in the tone, but he couldn't pinpoint what was the emotion behind it. “No, not at all. I just thought about going alone.” “A lot of girls would die to go with you… some guys too.” Sirius's head snapped to the side, both surprised and panicked expression making Remus laugh. “Oh, C'mon. You're telling me you have never noticed how a lot of people are trying to get your attention?” “Guys too?” “Yup. You're quite the heartbreaker.” “I…” Sirius started, but he cut himself off when his eyes caught a glimpse of who was sitting at the Great Hall. Regulus was at the Slytherin table, his right hand mindlessly throwing an apple into the air and then catching it. He was almost alone, only accompanied by two Slytherins that were talking between each other, not paying a lot of attention to Regulus' presence. “You should go and try to talk to him.” “Now?” “Is your best chance,” Remus smiled reassuringly, “If anything happens, I'll be right here, don't worry.” Sirius nodded and started walking, the knowledge of Remus having his back making him blush even more than he was already. Get your thoughts together, dumbass he mumbled to himself, the sense of panic slowly starting to sink until it was almost gone. With every step that he took, the thousands of scenarios that his brain was creating seemed more and more unlikely. No matter what, Regulus wouldn't be able to kill him or inflict any pain in him, not knowing how it felt, all thanks to Walburga. The worst thing that could happen would be that he got up without any intention to talk with Sirius. And he could try again, he always could. With that mindset, he finally made it to the table, the two Slytherins that were talking between each other stopped, their eyes questioning what a Gryffindor was doing near their table and why that Gryffindor was no one else than Sirius Black. “Regulus.” He looked up, and for one moment, for one second, Sirius swore he saw the same look his brother used to do when he was trying to ask for help without being able to say it out loud. Nevertheless, the emotion quickly left Regulus eyes, making them similar to Walburga's, cold, yet somehow haunting. He didn't say anything, which made Sirius back up a little, quickly reaching to play with his ring, “We need to talk.” Regulus fixed his eyes on Sirius's ring, just to look down and start playing with his own, just like his brother did, a gesture they seemed to share “Okay.” The answer caught Sirius unprepared, the air he was trying to suppress finally leaving his mouth in a big relieved sigh. The easiest part was done, now he had to proceed with the second part of the plan. “Where?” Asked Regulus, getting up from his seat. “Maybe I can walk you to the Slytherin common room?” And Sirius cursed himself mentally when the first idea that came to his mind was said out loud, it could be unpleasant for him, but he continued anyway, he wanted Regulus to feel comfortable, “You are on a break, right?” “Yes. Let's go.” As they started to gradually gain speed in their walk, Sirius looked back, finding Remus staring at him with a shy smile. He smiled back, signing with his hands that he was going to be back in a few minutes. Remus nodded and started to take the Christmas decorations out of the box, his hands carefully leaving them in the Gryffindor table. Sirius knew that under Remus control, nothing bad would happen to those dancing Santa figures. Regulus was quiet- he had always been, but at that moment, it was making Sirius uneasy. He just needed a signal, something to tell him that it was okay to start talking. “What did you want to talk about?” Maybe Regulus knew him better than he thought. “I need you to talk with your house Prefect.” “Is it for the Christmas party?” “Yes, tell him to talk with James Potter.” “Okay,” and with that, Regulus was ready to enter the Slytherin room and eliminate any chance Sirius had to talk with him. “Wait!” and he grabbed his brother's arm, consternation dominating his expression when he noticed how weak and thin his arm felt, even more than usual. He pushed his concern aside, deciding that it was better not to ask at the moment, “There's something else.” “What is it, Black?” That hurt. But at the same time, it meant that under Regulus's eyes, Sirius was still part of the family. Which was a positive thing, somehow. “How's everything at home?” Regulus raised his eyebrows, an exasperated expression taking over his features, “Really?” “What?” Sirius asked, grabbing Regulus again when he tried to leave, “Listen… I'm sorry. I'm sorry for running away and not telling you beforehand. I… I was scared, just grabbed my things and left, didn't even plan it seriously before. That one night it just got too much.” Regulus nodded silently, leaning on the nearest wall, arms crossed. Sirius took this as a sign to keep going, so he did. The pressure on his shoulders was finally disappearing as he spoke. “And I should have told you- you're my brother. I acted selfishly, and at one point I thought I had made the right decision because… it seemed like you agreed with all the horrendous shit Walburga and Orion said. I really thought you belonged there.” “Belonging does not equal wanting to be there,” spoke Regulus, gaining a surprised look from his brother, “I can play the role I'm supposed to play, but I don't want to. I did what I had to resist a little longer in that hell. But, you, I-” and when his voice became a little shaky, Sirius gulped, “I thought you abandoned me.” “Reg.” “After you left, they have become even more distant. Not that I care, but- sometimes I feel they are waiting for me to get up one day during dinner just to throw me an unforgivable curse for no reason. Now, no one is watching them, no one is making sure I stay alive. Is not safe for me to leave, but is not safe for me to stay either.” “Stay at Hogwarts.” “What?” Regulus's voice was full of confusion caused by the sudden response of his brother. “Stay at Hogwarts as long as you can, for every holiday if it's necessary. Every day you can spend here, you take it. We can figure something out, we can talk with the professors.” “Is not that simple, you know they got a lot of power around here.” “It doesn't matter, I promise you I'll take you out of that house.” “You don't have to.” “I owe you that.” Regulus snorted, maybe to try and hide the fact that his eyes were becoming teary, “Okay. That's alright.” “I know we have never been, you know, really emotional,” Sirius extended his arms slowly, his eyes full of tears, “but c'mon, one hug? Doesn't have to be that long. ” Regulus didn't even think twice before hugging his brother, his arms squeezing Sirius. Was at this moment that the older of the two brothers remembered that Regulus was a little bit younger than him, and sometimes he was extremely mature for his age, and for other instances (like that one) he was still the quiet kid and thoughtful kid Sirius cared for. 

[sirius-archive]

Could I get an imagine where the reader is a muggle American and she’s on vacation in London with her family and she somehow lost her family and she’s like freaking out and then she runs into Sirius on the streets and he like helps calm her down and helps her find her family? Sorry if this is a weird request

Pairing: Sirius Black x Reader, James Potter x Lily Evans (mentioned) 

Warnings: Swearing, stranger danger too, I guess. 

A/N: so sorry this took so long! I loved the idea and I hope I did it justice. I might add to it later on or revamp it bc I love the idea but it’s a big maybe at the moment bc I’m so busy with uni and work and also my other wips. I hope you enjoy this though. Also I changed the request quite a bit bc I forgot what you originally wanted! So sorry!! 

just want to add that I did something o probably shouldn’t and included my real life friends! With their permission, ofc. I also made a modern reference even tho it’s supposed to be the seventies but I liked it too much so I left it in ha ha. Also…pls don’t talk to strangers. This is fanfiction people not an advice column. 

****

It’s another uncharacteristically warm day in London.

The sun showers blankets of warm golden light over the city, guilding skyscrapers and warming the sweet, honeyed breeze. Sparrows are chirping sweet, morning songs, dancing in the air with surprising grace. Squirrels scamper across lush green grounds in a park nearby, happily bidding you a good morning.

And not one of these motherfuckers are going to help you find your friends.

You wander aimlessly past the same park monument you saw just half an hour ago. Your legs are already aching, your feet are forming blisters that hurt the more you think about them, and the sun is slowly drilling into your soul.

You think you might die of thirst before you find your friends.

In retrospect, it wasn’t entirely Sophie’s fault. While it was her dumb shit idea to tag along with the sexy British tour guide, you, Matt, Aaron, Riley and Reuben had been far more interested in touring the British Museum. So it wasn’t at all surprising when Sophie rushed off with knockoff Colin Firth to have a jolly high tea or whatever it is British people do on dates. Still, it gave you an opportunity to visit the museum.

You hadn’t even walked through the front gates when Matt, Aaron and Riley wandered off to have a deep and meaningful (you had warned Riley that coming on the trip with Aaron would cause some tension between your group. Thing between you and Aaron were a lot more complicated than the five-night-stand you’d shared last year). Reuben, being his usual womanising self, started flirting with the hot receptionist and not wanting any part of that (last time you wing-womaned for Reuben, the chick thought you were seeking a third), you stepped out for some air.

Now, you’re trying to navigate through the urban maze that is London by yourself, struggling to find your friends who are scattered all over the city.

Slumping against a park chair, you take a deep breath and study your map again. A part of you is screaming at you to swallow your pride and ask for directions but you’re a stubborn New Yorker and if you can effortlessly find your way through the Big Apple, you can tackle London.

“You’re not from around here…” says a masculine voice behind you. You sit up straight, whipping around in the direction of the voice.

Holy fucking cucumber sandwich.

The most handsome man you’ve ever laid your eyes on leans against the trunk of an old oak tree, observing you with a mixture of amusement and intrigue. He looks like he chomps down magical donuts that grant him sexy powers. You stare.

A cigarette hangs from his kissable, smirking lips. His hair falls gracefully around his face, framing glinting gray-blue eyes, high cheekbones and a strong jaw. He’s wearing a leather jacket and exudes all types mysterious-sexy-bad boy vibes. You’d bet a hundred bucks that he rides a motorcycle too.

Boys with motorcycles are usually trouble.

Your mouth goes a little bit dry.

“Please don’t be a serial killer,” you mutter and the stranger cocks a perfect eyebrow.

“What was that?”

You shake your head, “I mean — Is it that obvious?”

Sexy bad boy stranger shrugs, “I know a lost tourist when I see one.”

“Is this what you do, then? Lurk around parks waiting for lost tourists?”

Bad boy chuckles — a deep growling sound that rumbles at the back of his throat, “Maybe. Maybe I was just walking past and thought I’d help out a pretty girl in need.”

It takes all of your willpower not to blush now.

“So you’re just a Good Samaritan, then.”

“I’m whatever you want me to be.”

“What if I want you to go away?”

The handsome, young motorbike guy takes a deliberate step forward, “I think we both know that’s not true.”

You swallow. He’s good at this game. Something tells you that you’re not the first victim of his play-boy charms.

Desperately trying to reclaim your composure, you fold your arms across your chest and glare at him.

“What makes you think I need your help?”

British James Dean thinks for one attractive moment, “Well, you don’t have to accept my help but something tells me that if you don’t ask for directions soon, you’re going to end up wandering around London forever.”

He makes a good point.

You stand up from your seat, arms still folded across your chest, “Hypothetically speaking, If I were to accept your help, how would I know that you’re not a perverted serial killer who wants to collect my spleen and leave me in a ditch or something?”

Sexy stranger takes another step forward, “That’d be a shame. You’re too beautiful to kill, and I’m just beginning to like you.”

“That’s exactly what a perverted serial killer would say.”

“Touché. Alright, how about this: I drop you off at your hotel straight away, no detours and no taxi fees that you have to fork out to greedy muggl— erm, I mean, drivers.”

You consider this. He certainly doesn’t seem like a serial killer. Still, it’s hard to trust a charming stranger, especially one as handsome as he is. Then again, if he’s smart — which he definitely is — he’d never kill you in broad daylight in the middle of London.

You uncross your arms and hold one out for him to shake, “Alright, deal.”

Sexy stranger takes your hand and shakes it. His hand is strong and firm and electricity sparks in the warm space where your hands are clasped together.

“Sirius.”

“What?”

“Sirius.”

You blink at him, “Is that some kind of fungal STI that I need to be aware of?”

Sexy stranger chuckles again, “My name is Sirius.”

Sirius? Who the fuck calls their kid Sirius? You have to admit that the name suits him, and the way he says it — in a husky, velvety murmur — gives the name an alluring sex appeal, which sums him up completely.

You consider giving him a fake name but ultimately decide against it. That’s just weird and you can’t lie for shit.

“I’m (Y/N).”

Sirius repeats your name, tasting it on his lips. A more carnal part of you wishes he’d say it in a completely different context.

“Alright, (Y/N),” Sirius smiles, and he practically glows with charisma, “Lets get you home.”

***

You were right, of course. About the motorcycle.

Sirius’ carefully-polished motorbike is almost as sexy as it’s owner; gleaming in the sunlight and flaunting a sleek black paint job with plush leather seats. Several passerby’s stop to admire it (or Sirius, you can’t exactly tell), though Sirius doesn’t pay them any mind. One dudebro with a repugnantly bright tank top gawks at the motorbike while his girlfriend stares hungrily at Sirius.

“I’ve…never ridden a motorcycle before,” you bleat nervously.

Sirius hands you a helmet and smiles.

“Just hold onto me and you’ll be fine.”

Sirius mounts his motorbike and you awkwardly slide in behind him. You’re not sure where to put your hands so you place them on his shoulders. You think you hear Sirius laugh behind his helmet.

Sirius turns the ignition, revs the engine, and kicks the bike into gear.

“You alright back there?” He calls over the roar of the bike.

“Uh—yeah.”

“Hold onto my waist,” he orders, “You’ll be more secure.”

You’re about to protest but then Sirius takes off and you find your arms flying to his waist, gripping on tightly.

It’s exhilarating. Liberating. Intoxicating.

As Sirius weaves between London traffic, you feel a rush of adrenaline pulse through your veins. The air whips past, fluttering around the ruffled trim of your dress. Your hands soak in the warmth of Sirius’ body, his muscles firm beneath your touch.

You pass familiar landmarks and stores you passed when you and your friends took the double-decker bus from your hotel room. You recognise the buildings around you and realise the hotel is just a few kilometres down the street, on the right.

Suddenly, Sirius veers off to the left and zooms down a street you don’t recognise.

“What are you doing? The hotel is up that way!”

“I just have to make a quick stop,” he shouts over his shoulder.

“That wasn’t part of the deal!”

“Don’t worry, it won’t take long.”

You clutch onto him, apprehension beginning to claw away at your lower belly. Where is he taking you? How could you have been so stupid to trust an extremely attractive stranger to follow through with a deal?

Sirius slows the bike down until it rolls to a stop and flicks the engine off, climbing off sexily. He helps you clamber awkwardly off the bike and you tear your helmet off, taking in your surroundings for the first time.

You’re next to a footpath with a view of the The Thames, lined with large ornamental pear trees. Its quite a romantic spot with a view of the entire city sitting pretty behind the flowing River Thames.

Sirius tells you to wait by the motorbike and stalks away, rushing toward a boy who looks about your age. He’s tall, has messy black hair, and half-frame glasses. He looks like a sexy professor with the body of an Olympic swimmer that all the girls have crushes on.

Why are all the men here so insanely attractive?

You’re just about to sink into a delightful fantasy of sexy Professor feeding you grapes when Sirius comes up behind you.

“Ready to go?”

You ignore his question, “Who was the god — I mean — guy that you saw?”

Sirius arches an eyebrow. You notice for the first time that there is a scar knitted into it, “That’s James. He’s a total prat, by the way.”

“Sounds like you two have that in common,” you quip and Sirius mocks offence.

“Anyone tell you that you’re cruel?”

“Everyday of my life.”

“Here I was thinking you were just another hot little American bird.”

For one half of a millisecond, your brain snags on the word ‘hot.’ Did he just call you hot? You heard that right? You recover with grace, grinning wickedly.

“You’ll get over it.”

A teasing smirk flirts around the corners of Sirius’ lips, a little crookedly, slanting lazily in a way that makes your cheeks warm. He looks amused by this verbal tug-of-war but also a little turned on.

You’d be lying if you said you didn’t feel the same way.

“You ever walk along the River Thames?” Sirius asks, sliding his strong, sexy hands into the pocket of his sexy leather jacket. He begins to follow the footpath, leading you past the knots of pigeons and moonstruck lovers.

“No,” you sigh, “Admittedly, I just came along for the underage drinking and the hot British guys.”

Sirius laughs, “How’s that working out for you?”

You shrug, teasing him with a flirtatious smile, “I’m still working on it.”

“If you want,” Sirius begins, clawing at the nape of his neck, “I can help you out with that.”

You quirk a carefully-manicured brow, “What, you know any hot guys like your buddy James?”

Sirius snorts, “I wouldn’t go saying that around his girlfriend.”

“Why, is she the jealous type?”

“No, she’s the ‘try-not-to-make-his-fat-Head-even-fatter’ type.”

You chuckle, intrigue plucking at your mind, “She’s my type of girl.”

“Lily is everyone’s type of girl.”

“Well now I just have to meet her.”

Sirius raises his brows, a spark of hope in his eyes, “Is that your way of telling me that you’re taking me up on the offer for free beer?”

“You never said it was free before.”

“I’m feeling generous.”

“Aw, and they say chivalry is dead.”

Sirius laughs easily in a way that is completely carefree, as though laughter bubbles just beneath his skin, itching to pour out. It’s mesmerising how he doesn’t seem to take life too seriously.

“You are something else,” he says, letting his eyes catch and linger on yours for a quiet, suspended moment.

A gust of warm, summer wind brings peach blossoms raining down. The gentle coo of a skylark echoes in the distance. Time slows to a stop to stare at the two of you.

He steps forward, like he’s about to kiss you.

You let him.

He tastes like liquor and rebellion, a little wild in a way you’ve never realised you’ve wanted, you’ve needed. His hands are strong as they wrap around you, pulling you flush against his chest. Your fingers roam through his hair, tangling, tugging, earning a low groan from the back of his throat. You feel drunk on him, your head spinning and your heart thumping, as though it’s trying to tear through your chest and leap into his strong, capable hands. Suddenly, you realise how weird this is. He’s a stranger you’ve known for an hour or so yet now you’re kissing him. It’s as though you’re somehow drawn to him, to his energy, to the way he seems to know you intimately, in ways you hardly know about yourself. You break away, taking a step away from him. Sirius looks like he’s five again and has just had his favourite toy ripped away from him. 

““Are you—?”

Slap

Before you even realise what you’re doing, you’re slapping him across the cheek, not hard but he feels it. You kissed a stranger. That is a thing you did. You also slapped said stranger, partly because of impulse and partly because you’re terrified of how quickly your feelings are beginning to stir for someone you hardly know. Sirius is stunned, silent, staring at you with shock and hurt that stings you more than it should. You stare back, drawn in by every fleck of colour in his eyes, suddenly aware that, sure, he may be a stranger but that doesn’t mean he has to stay one. Obviously, you have a connection.

 So…connect.

 You crash your lips against his again, throwing your arms around his neck. 

Your friends can wait. You’ve found yourself a new tour guide. 

[lilacandladybugs]

What’s your current relationship with god? I’m very curious lmao

I’m sorry if this sounds incomprehensible and rambly and disjointed or pretentious. I care a lot more about this than almost anything else in the world and I wish I could do a better job of explaining myself. But I feel like why I believe in God or what my relationship with him is like is like trying to explain who I am. And I’m just the accumulation of everything I’ve ever experienced or that I think and I feel like it’s really important that I communicate it correctly so here is my attempt.

Here’s a video that’s really good that I think will give some good background information. If you don’t want to read all of this, the video is probably enough to explain.

TLDR: This isn’t the way things are supposed to be. Death isn’t supposed to happen, it isn’t a part of the natural order of things. God loved us so much he died to fix it, and rose again to defeat death. God loves me and I love him, and I’ve never found peace or fulfillment like that in anything else.

I hope this makes sense anon let me know if you have any questions or if I misinterpreted your question. 

TW suicide // grief // abuse // rape mention (not v bad or graphic or anything)

Long version:

I think I've always thought that there's something naturally (for lack of a better word) poetic about existing. Not really meaning that it's good, but kind of that everything feels really purposeful it seems to flow together like an old epic. Everything seems intensely meaningful to me.

I've always thought that life was tragic. That death is a fracture in the way things are, like we live in the ancient ruins of a long lost civilization.

And I've always thought that life seems like an incomprehensibly wonderful gift, because how can there be tragedy if there isn't anything worth losing? But somehow it seems like peace is the basic way things are, that normalcy isn't normal at all but like this status quo of goodness which makes bad things happening not only heart breaking but surprising.

Reconciling all of those ideas is really confusing.

I'm a strong proponent of thinking analytically about what you believe since the answer we choose to the question of whether or not God exists is like quite literally something we bet our lives on. We bet our life that God exists or that he doesn't, that things have meaning anchored in an external source or that they don't. 

So while I grew up a Christian I've never felt really dead in it. I want to be uncomfortable. I want to be stubborn in asking questions and I don't have a problem with questioning authorities on why they believe what they believe—especially if they really confidently assert it. I want to be able to know things and understand them.

My junior year of high school three of my closest childhood friends died, and several others almost died. I remember sitting up at like two am listening to twenty one pilots self titled album just like seething and exhausted asking lord why would you abandon me like that?

Some other really horrible things happened to people that I cared about, I felt abandoned and rejected by Christians just for being broken, some of them caused it or contributed to the trauma and abuse. How could people who claimed the name of God do that?

My debate partner's best friend killed himself the same year that my friends died, and he became an atheist and I stayed a Christian. We fought about it a lot. I really seriously considered becoming an atheist.

The thing that I couldn't accept was the lack of eternality. 

Really ironically I think I stayed a Christian for the same reason that my friend became an atheist. We were both asking why all of the living world is crying out in anguish. We both wanted to die. We both were angry. We both were horrified.

My friend thought that the question of “where is God?” was harder to answer than “why is there meaning to death?”

I'm a Christian because I'm horrified. He's an atheist for the same reason.

If you don’t feel like reading it, here’s the TLDR: there is no reason for someone to do something or not do something if God isn’t there to tell them to. There isn’t a moral grounding for law.

Arthur Leff was an atheist law professor at Yale in the eighties, and he wrote about the moral grounding for laws in his essay, Unspeakable Ethics, Unnatural Law. The question he was asking was what can we do to ground morality? What can we do to prove objectively that there are things one ought to do and things one ought not do?

I am unwilling to accept that. There is something evil about abuse, neglect, rape, torture. There is something about these things that violates human rights, human dignity. There's something about them that goes against objective moral law.

But without God there is no moral law. So I wouldn't be able to say, "you should never rape someone, because rape is wrong." And everything that I had experienced flew in the face of that.

Dr. Leff wrote this about that question;

“All I can say is this: it looks as if we are all we have. Given what we know about ourselves and each other, this is an extraordinarily unappetizing prospect; looking around the world, it appears that if all men are brothers, the ruling model is Cain and Abel. Neither reason, nor love, nor even terror, seems to have worked to make us "good," and worse than that, there is no reason why anything should. Only if ethics were something unspeakable by us, could law be unnatural, and therefore unchallengeable. As things now stand, everything is up for grabs.

Nevertheless:

Napalming babies is bad.

Starving the poor is wicked.

Buying and selling each other is depraved.

Those who stood up to and died resisting Hitler, Stalin, Amin, and Pol Pot-and General Custer too-have earned salvation.

Those who acquiesced deserve to be damned.

There is in the world such a thing as evil.

[All together now:] Sez who?

God help us.”

In the end, it comes down to this; Do I believe that the complexity of the universe is because there was someone intelligent actively involved in its design, do I believe that information, reason, logic, emotion, and morality exist and are reliable because they have grounding in God’s identity? Do I believe that God is who he says he is?

And I guess the answer to those questions was yes.

I saw God. He was there in the stillness - in the sunrise and sunset and at 2 am after I couldn't cry anymore. I felt him. And I know part of his goodness that I wish I never had to know. I felt like I was lying breathless bleeding out in a gutter watching the stars. Almost like a pause - just a moment in time where I was hurt enough, still enough to hear his voice.

One of the most important things I learned is that life is not hopeless.  If life is a story, then the last chapter of the book has already been written. This is the premise of the song It is Well with My Soul by Horatio G. Spafford.

“When peace, like a river, attendeth my way,

When sorrows like sea billows roll;

Whatever my lot, God has taught me to say,

It is well, it is well, with my soul.

My sin, oh, the bliss of this glorious thought

My sin, not in part but the whole,

Is nailed to the cross, and I bear it no more,

Praise the Lord, praise the Lord, o my soul” 

The powers of evil and darkness can take away my friends, my sanity, my family, and even my life, but God has already saved me, and I can find peace in spite of my circumstances. Three of my friends died, but God has already conquered death. I feel powerless, but God is powerful. I feel abandoned, but God loves me so much that he died a horrible torturous death for me. Living in light of that is peace. 

Whenever I felt like I couldn’t keep going there would be something to stop me. I heard his voice in music, and in my friends that held me when I cried, and in morning glories on my morning walk. I kept lists of all of the times this happened, every time that someone encouraged me to keep going, every time that someone would quote a Bible verse when I was crying out for God to answer me, every time that the world paused. Everything asked me the same question, do you think it means nothing? Do you think that there is a direction that we’re going? Are we coming from nothing and going toward nowhere?

I had friends who heard him too. He was so gentle to us. I wasn’t able to go to church, I wasn’t able to listen to worship music but the LGBTQ+ community took care of me, they were isolated from church as well. There was enough for me in that God promised he would take care of me, and he did. He died for me. He talked to my trans friend and said, “listen, your parents have rejected you and said you’ll never be your son, but I am a good father. I love you. Be my son instead.”

God mourned with me. He saw everything and he was angry. I was able to breathe because I knew that in the end there will be justice for abuse victims, because God said that he is the holder of justice, and vengeance will be his.

When one of my friends was hospitalized I stood outside during the beginning of a thunderstorm and watched the clouds and the sky darken and lightning flash across the sky.

Even the wind and the sea obey him. He asked me if I trust him. 

I guess my answer was yes.

In spite of everything that I went through, I was more thoroughly convinced that I ever was before that things matter. I was convinced that abuse is evil. I was convinced that death is an abomination. I was convinced that these laws of morality are woven into the fabric of the universe. I was convinced that God died to save us from that reality. I was convinced he loved me.

I still am

[littledanette]

could you please do a beej x reader where reader is more shy/anxious

Thank you for the prompt! OK…So. This started out one way and turned out completely different from what I imagined. Uhm - so yeah. I tired to take a slightly different direction with Beej here, by also exploring his ‘softer’ side (which we see in various occasions i.e. when he talks about his parents / is alone on the roof / sees his mother again) while still hopefully keeping him in character. 

I imagine this takes place before the start of the relationship/at the very beginning. Hope you’ll enjoy! 

BEETLEJUICE AND A SHY/ANXIOUS PARTNER

(Beej x reader) 

Shyness was pretty much an unknown emotion to him. He’d known loneliness, of course. And sadness. Anxiety, too. But shyness, he’d never understood. So at first, seeing you flinch and act uneasy in front of him when he started with the jokes and the teasing and the inappropriate attitude only made him want to do that more. Not because he didn’t care, but because he was used to getting this type of initial reaction, and he figured it was just a matter of time before you got used to it and started snapping back at him. It was just another game. But after a while, he started noticing how truly embarrassed he made you feel. He started noticing how you’d cringe instead of smiling whenever he made a bad joke. How you’d bite your lip and nervously look away whenever he threw a sexual innuendo your way. How you’d sigh disappointedly when you tried to talk to him and he started acting like an idiot. And truthfully, he didn’t like it one bit. 

But of course, he had to learn the lesson the hard way.

This one night, the two of you were standing outside on your rooftop terrace. You were trying to enjoy a quiet peaceful evening after a hard day at college. You thought it would be a good idea to summon Beej, just to have someone to talk to as you drank a glass of wine and ranted about everything and everyone. Exams were coming up: the worst period of the year, considering you suffered so terribly from anxiety that you’d start messing up your sleep schedule, feeling your stomach constantly tied in a knots, and suffering an endless headache that drove you nuts. Instead of being helpful, however, Beetlejuice was acting like a pain in the ass. 

“I’m trying so hard to understand his lessons,” you were telling him,  “But this professor is so determined to make me fail his class that I don’t know what else to do….” “Well babes, you do know there’s more than one way to become the teacher’s pet, right…?” You looked at him reproachfully, but carried on, “…then, I go to study group and Lindsey, this bitch, just starts annoying the shit out of me and telling me what I should and shouldn’t do to pass his class…” “See? I told you. That Lindsey’s probably found the way to be on his good side - well, under his desk more likely -  waaay ahead of you there, kid!” “Beej!” You sigh in frustration, “Please, could you just stop with the sex jokes and listen?” He raises his hands defensively, “Hey, just sayin’ it like it is, babes…” “Yeah well, you know it makes me uncomfortable!” “All right, all right, I’ll…listen,” he rolls his eyes, and you feel slightly hurt but decide to carry on nonetheless. You take a deep breath and continue. “…I don’t know how to handle this. I thought I was coping better with my anxiety, and yet here I am, freaking out as always and thinking that I’ll never make it, because I’m a failure and I’m not smart enough. I just wish I could do something to let go of all of this…this damn tension, it’s killing me!” you sigh again, wrapping a hand around the back of your neck and massaging your tense muscles. He observes you quietly for a moment. Then, he flashes you a meaningful look, a naughty half smile on his lips. “Well babes, you know what they say…” He says in slight sing song voice, “There is one veeeery effective way to get rid of all that….unwanted tension,” he raises an eyebrow at you, “…all it takes is one nice, looooong, satisfying fuc-”

Finally, you snap. “BEEJ!” He seems taken aback by your outburst and shuts up. It’s very unlike you to yell. Especially with him. Your face is burning and you feel so awkward you wish you could disappear right then and there, but it’s too late to shut up now. You stand up, fists on your sides. “That’s it. I’m done with you!” “B-But babes, I was only kiddi-” he starts, standing up as well, but you interrupt him. “No. No. NO! I’m fed up. You are impossible!” You stop in front of him, pointing a finger accusingly at him. Now that you’ve started, you feel like you can’t stop. “All I’m doing is trying to express myself and ask for a little comfort, you know how important these exams are for me and how bad I’ve been suffering from my anxiety, you know how uncomfortable you make me with your dumb crude jokes and your stupid innuendos, and all you can say is that I should just relax and…and…” you take a deep breath, unsure if you can repeat what he said. Looking away, you close your eyes mutter under your breath, “…get fucked.” You scoff bitterly. “You know what? You should go.”

He instantly begins to panic, “Wha-? No, no, babes, I’m sorry, I-” “No, Beej, I mean it,” you cut him off, “I’m tired of it. I’ve tried to tell you a million times-” “Babes, babes, listen to me -” he’s stuttering, the fear in his voice evident, his hair rapidly turning blue. “It’s hard enough for me to deal with all of this alone, I don’t need you too-” “Baby, please, don’t say that -” he tries to reach for you. Wrong move. Physical contact is the last thing you need right now. You flinch away. He looks at you as if you’d just slapped him. He knows what you’re about to do, and his eyes are filled with dread. “Leave me alone, Beej,” you say quietly. “I don’t need you. No, forget that. I don’t want you here. I want you gone.” You close your eyes. You know being unwanted is one of his biggest fears. You know you’re hitting him where it hurts. But right now, you don’t care. “Beetlejuice…” He gasps and covers his hand with his mouth. You’re really doing this. He shakes his head. His hair is now a mixture of deep blue streaks and silver grey ones. “No-no-no, babes, wait, do you want me to beg...? Here, look!” he gets down on his knees, “I’m begging!” “…Beetlejuice…” he tries to reach for you again, but you step back, shaking your head. “Please, please don’t send me back! I was an asshole, I’m sorry, I didn’t know, I don’t understand…” “….Beetlejuice.” Before he can do anything else, he’s gone. For a moment, the silence envelops you completely. All you can hear is your own shaky breath. Then, all at one, the truth hits you. He’s gone…and now, you’re really alone.

The panic of what you’ve done doesn’t really settle in until about a week later. You’re done with your exams, and now that you didn’t have to stress about studying all day, your loneliness really starts to kick in. You’d never been popular in school, and your only close friend has gone back home for the holidays. That night, finding yourself all alone in your bedroom, unable to sleep, unable to think, unable to breathe, the panic attack comes crashing down in full force. 

What have you done? You banished him. He was never going to come back. He probably hates you. No, scratch that. He definitely hates you. You’d been a bitch, and now you were alone. This is what you got. This is what you deserve. It wasn’t even his fault - that’s just the way he is, he was trying to understand you. But it wasn’t enough for you, was it? And you just had to screw it all up. Well that’s what you get. He probably doesn’t even care. Why should he? You gave him no reason to. That’s why you’re alone. That’s why you will always be alone. That’s why nobody will ever, ever love you. Nobody…

The mean, angry voice in your head is getting so loud and inescapable that all you can do is curl up in a ball and cry. You sit in the far corned of your bed, hiding you face in your hands, sobbing. Your heart is pounding so hard, you can barely hear your own voice when suddenly you choke out those three words… His names echoes in the dark room, your voice shaking as you call out for him. You stop crying for a moment, waiting, listening. Nothing happens. 

He’s never going to come back, you think. He’s gone for good. And it serves you right. The sound of your shallow breathing is the only thing you can hear. Suddenly, your anxiety strikes back in full force, and you start sobbing again. You’re crying so hard that you almost don’t hear that faint swishing sound…

“Babes?” It’s a soft, soft voice, barely above a whisper. But as soon as you hear it, your sobbing stops. You look up through your tear stained eyes, your vision slightly blurry. And you see him. Standing in the opposite corner of the room, besides the window. The moonlight shines on the worn, oversized grey coat he’s wearing, his striped suit poking out from underneath and his wild untamed mane of hair - still blue, you notice - spiking out in odd directions. He’s fumbling nervously with his hands. Unsure of what to do. You’ve never seen him act like this, but you could swear he’s…embarrassed. He fidgets from one foot to the other. Nervously waiting for you to do something. 

“B-beej…?” You ask tentatively, as if you need confirmation that it’s actually him. He nods, biting his lip nervously. “Did…did you call me?” 

You nod back vigorously, still not quite believing that he’s there. Seeing him again suddenly makes you realize how much you missed him. The panic you were feeling has now turned into shaking anxiety. You can’t take it anymore. Without even thinking, you get off the bed.

“It’s just,” he starts,  “I didn’t think you needed me anym -” before he can finish, you smash into him with such force that you almost knock him off his feet. You fling your arms around his torso. You bury your head in his chest, as you start to sob again. He is quite literally frozen. His arms are sticking out by his sides, and his spine is so rigid you fear it might actually crack. “I’m so sorry!” You burst out, closing your eyes, “Beej, I was such a bitch, I didn’t mean it...” your apology is broken by your sobs.

He stands still, and for one horrible second you fear he’s going to push you away in disgust. You don’t even dare look up at him. Then, you sense his posture suddenly relax, and when you feel his arms slowly wrap around you and tentatively squeeze you, your heart flutters and you start crying again.

“I though - you - weren’t going to - I though you were so mad -” you feel so embarrassed to let him see you like this, but you can’t help it. Panic attacks are, indeed, a bitch. 

“Babes,” he says softly, “I…can’t hear a fucking thing you’re saying if you keep sobbing like that.” Maybe this answer would’ve made you mad in another circumstance, but right now you’re so happy to have him there that you actually stop crying for a moment and snort with laughter. You can hear him chuckle, the sound rumbling in his chest. Then, an awkward silence falls between the two of you. 

“Uhm,” he mumbles, “I…I’m not sure what to do here -” “Just…stay like this with me for a moment?” You ask shakily. “…Sure.” You can sense he’s still embarrassed, but then you feel him place his hand tentatively behind your head. He actually starts stroking your hair, his other arm protectively pulling you a little closer to him. You’ve never seen him behave like this before, and if his immediate appearance wasn’t enough to make you forgive him, this moment is so pure it’s making up for every wrong thing he ever said to you. 

“I’m sorry.” he says. Two simple words, yet you know how important they are - especially, said by him. And right then, you know he really means it. Seeing you like this has definitely made him understand - the anxiety, the embarrassment, the awkwardness. And somehow, you can tell things are going to change now. 

“No, I’m sorry,” you reply, finally lifting your head up to look at him. A strand of blue hair is falling in front of his eyes, and with a sad smile you reach up and slick it back. “I thought you’d never come back here again,” you confess softly. 

“I’ll always come back to you, babes,” he murmurs, and you feel his hand unexpectedly cup your cheek as he brushes away a tear. The simple, yet intimate gesture makes your heart stop. Your breath, which had just begun to go back to normal, hitches slightly again when you meet his eyes. He has a strange look, one that you can’t quite define. For a few seconds, everything stands still. You start feeling self conscious, and your cheeks turn red. 

“Beej, what-?” You start. But this time, he’s the one who cuts you off. Leaning forward, he closes his eyes and kisses you. His mouth is cold, but incredibly soft. For a moment, your eyes widen with surprise and you have no idea what to do. Then, you feel him gently tug you to him, his hand kneading your waist, and you slowly let yourself go. You close your eyes, your shoulders dropping as you relax in the kiss. You glide your hands up across his chest and around his neck, gently pulling him to you. He responds by deepening the kiss and squeezing you tightly against him. Protectively, reassuringly, softly. Suddenly, you feel very, very dizzy. And very, very happy. 

And from that moment, you know you’d just opened a whole new chapter for the two of you. 

💚

P.S *sigh*...I love writing this lil monster.

Did you enjoy the story? Do you want to support me and my writing? You can buymeacoffee! 😊 Thank you for your support 🙏🏻💜

[in-the-whisper]

I’m sorry if this sounds incomprehensible and rambly and disjointed or pretentious. I care a lot more about this than almost anything else in the world and I wish I could do a better job of explaining myself. But I feel like why I believe in God or what my relationship with him is like is like trying to explain who I am. And I’m just the accumulation of everything I’ve ever experienced or that I think and I feel like it’s really important that I communicate it correctly so here is my attempt.

Here’s a video that’s really good that I think will give some good background information. If you don’t want to read all of this, the video is probably enough to explain.

TLDR: This isn’t the way things are supposed to be. Death isn’t supposed to happen, it isn’t a part of the natural order of things. God loved us so much he died to fix it, and rose again to defeat death. God loves me and I love him, and I’ve never found peace or fulfillment like that in anything else.

I hope this makes sense anon let me know if you have any questions or if I misinterpreted your question.

TW suicide // grief // abuse // rape mention (not v bad or graphic or anything)

Long version:

I think I've always thought that there's something naturally (for lack of a better word) poetic about existing. Not really meaning that it's good, but kind of that everything feels really purposeful it seems to flow together like an old epic. Everything seems intensely meaningful to me.

I've always thought that life was tragic. That death is a fracture in the way things are, like we live in the ancient ruins of a long lost civilization.

And I've always thought that life seems like an incomprehensibly wonderful gift, because how can there be tragedy if there isn't anything worth losing? But somehow it seems like peace is the basic way things are, that normalcy isn't normal at all but like this status quo of goodness which makes bad things happening not only heart breaking but surprising.

Reconciling all of those ideas is really confusing.

I'm a strong proponent of thinking analytically about what you believe since the answer we choose to the question of whether or not God exists is like quite literally something we bet our lives on. We bet our life that God exists or that he doesn't, that things have meaning anchored in an external source or that they don't.

So while I grew up a Christian I've never felt really dead in it. I want to be uncomfortable. I want to be stubborn in asking questions and I don't have a problem with questioning authorities on why they believe what they believe—especially if they really confidently assert it. I want to be able to know things and understand them.

My junior year of high school three of my closest childhood friends died, and several others almost died. I remember sitting up at like two am listening to twenty one pilots self titled album just like seething and exhausted asking lord why would you abandon me like that?

Some other really horrible things happened to people that I cared about, I felt abandoned and rejected by Christians just for being broken, some of them caused it or contributed to the trauma and abuse. How could people who claimed the name of God do that?

My debate partner's best friend killed himself the same year that my friends died, and he became an atheist and I stayed a Christian. We fought about it a lot. I really seriously considered becoming an atheist.

The thing that I couldn't accept was the lack of eternality.

Really ironically I think I stayed a Christian for the same reason that my friend became an atheist. We were both asking why all of the living world is crying out in anguish. We both wanted to die. We both were angry. We both were horrified.

My friend thought that the question of “where is God?” was harder to answer than “why is there meaning to death?”

I'm a Christian because I'm horrified. He's an atheist for the same reason.

If you don’t feel like reading it, here’s the TLDR: there is no reason for someone to do something or not do something if God isn’t there to tell them to. There isn’t a moral grounding for law.

Arthur Leff was an atheist law professor at Yale in the eighties, and he wrote about the moral grounding for laws in his essay, Unspeakable Ethics, Unnatural Law. The question he was asking was what can we do to ground morality? What can we do to prove objectively that there are things one ought to do and things one ought not do?

I am unwilling to accept that. There is something evil about abuse, neglect, rape, torture. There is something about these things that violates human rights, human dignity. There's something about them that goes against objective moral law.

But without God there is no moral law. So I wouldn't be able to say, "you should never rape someone, because rape is wrong." And everything that I had experienced flew in the face of that.

Dr. Leff wrote this about that question;

“All I can say is this: it looks as if we are all we have. Given what we know about ourselves and each other, this is an extraordinarily unappetizing prospect; looking around the world, it appears that if all men are brothers, the ruling model is Cain and Abel. Neither reason, nor love, nor even terror, seems to have worked to make us "good," and worse than that, there is no reason why anything should. Only if ethics were something unspeakable by us, could law be unnatural, and therefore unchallengeable. As things now stand, everything is up for grabs.

Nevertheless:

Napalming babies is bad.

Starving the poor is wicked.

Buying and selling each other is depraved.

Those who stood up to and died resisting Hitler, Stalin, Amin, and Pol Pot-and General Custer too-have earned salvation.

Those who acquiesced deserve to be damned.

There is in the world such a thing as evil.

[All together now:] Sez who?

God help us.”

In the end, it comes down to this; Do I believe that the complexity of the universe is because there was someone intelligent actively involved in its design, do I believe that information, reason, logic, emotion, and morality exist and are reliable because they have grounding in God’s identity? Do I believe that God is who he says he is?

And I guess the answer to those questions was yes.

I saw God. He was there in the stillness - in the sunrise and sunset and at 2 am after I couldn't cry anymore. I felt him. And I know part of his goodness that I wish I never had to know. I felt like I was lying breathless bleeding out in a gutter watching the stars. Almost like a pause - just a moment in time where I was hurt enough, still enough to hear his voice.

One of the most important things I learned is that life is not hopeless.  If life is a story, then the last chapter of the book has already been written. This is the premise of the song It is Well with My Soul by Horatio G. Spafford.

“When peace, like a river, attendeth my way,

When sorrows like sea billows roll;

Whatever my lot, God has taught me to say,

It is well, it is well, with my soul.

My sin, oh, the bliss of this glorious thought

My sin, not in part but the whole,

Is nailed to the cross, and I bear it no more,

Praise the Lord, praise the Lord, o my soul”

The powers of evil and darkness can take away my friends, my sanity, my family, and even my life, but God has already saved me, and I can find peace in spite of my circumstances. Three of my friends died, but God has already conquered death. I feel powerless, but God is powerful. I feel abandoned, but God loves me so much that he died a horrible torturous death for me. Living in light of that is peace.

Whenever I felt like I couldn’t keep going there would be something to stop me. I heard his voice in music, and in my friends that held me when I cried, and in morning glories on my morning walk. I kept lists of all of the times this happened, every time that someone encouraged me to keep going, every time that someone would quote a Bible verse when I was crying out for God to answer me, every time that the world paused. Everything asked me the same question, do you think it means nothing? Do you think that there is a direction that we’re going? Are we coming from nothing and going toward nowhere?

I had friends who heard him too. He was so gentle to us. I wasn’t able to go to church, I wasn’t able to listen to worship music but the LGBTQ+ community took care of me, they were isolated from church as well. There was enough for me in that God promised he would take care of me, and he did. He died for me. He talked to my trans friend and said, “listen, your parents have rejected you and said you’ll never be your son, but I am a good father. I love you. Be my son instead.”

God mourned with me. He saw everything and he was angry. I was able to breathe because I knew that in the end there will be justice for abuse victims, because God said that he is the holder of justice, and vengeance will be his.

When one of my friends was hospitalized I stood outside during the beginning of a thunderstorm and watched the clouds and the sky darken and lightning flash across the sky.

Even the wind and the sea obey him. He asked me if I trust him.

I guess my answer was yes.

In spite of everything that I went through, I was more thoroughly convinced that I ever was before that things matter. I was convinced that abuse is evil. I was convinced that death is an abomination. I was convinced that these laws of morality are woven into the fabric of the universe. I was convinced that God died to save us from that reality. I was convinced he loved me.

I still am

[imaginative-spirit]

hii! i found your twitter acc when i was searching for sefikura meta/analysis, and i found your tweet! i wanted to ask if you know some blog posts (or any posts) of their relationship analysis, as i am quite new to the whole ffvii series and i am intrigued by their relationship. i wanted to ask through cc but i noticed you dont have curiouscat so i’m asking through tumblr, sorry ;;

I didn’t mean to put all of this under a readmore but tumblr is being an ass so that’s what we’re doing now, I guess...

Hello!! Unfortunately I can’t really come up with anything on the spot, because despite seeing posts like that around before, I’m very unorganized and bad at keeping track of posts... so I decided to write you one on the spot instead, lmao!! I’ve been planning to write a more coherent, longer analysis for a while but still haven’t gotten around to it, but I’ll share some of my condensed thoughts here. The sefikura relationship is what intrigues me most about FFVII after all, and I usually yell quite a lot about them on twitter!

You say you’re new to FFVII, which means that I should definitely give a spoiler warning here. I’m going to address spoilery stuff from the OG, Remake and also some of the compilation material, because it’s hard to talk about their relationship without doing so. (I’ll also assume you’re familiar enough with the world of FFVII to know what I mean when I talk about stuff like SOLDIER, Shinra, Jenova, the Lifestream and such... this would get too long if I explained all of that here, lol)

Okay, so. Cloud and Sephiroth are narrative foils, which means their stories and arcs parallel each other in many ways. The most central themes surrounding them are their loneliness, sadness and how they cope with trauma.

Sephiroth was most likely raised by Hojo in a Shinra lab, and if you know Hojo, you know that there’s no way Sephiroth was treated as anything but an experiment. He never knew his mother, and the only person he had any respect for - Professor Gast - vanished when he was young and this seems to have given him abandonment issues. Cloud, on the other hand, had a mother but not much else. He felt alienated by the other children growing up in Nibelheim and seems to have been generally disliked by the adults as well, due to them blaming him for the time Tifa got hurt. In other words, they were both very lonely as children.

Shinra sent Sephiroth to war when he was very young (people disagree quite a lot on how old Sephiroth actually is but it’s assumed that he was around 12), and as the years went by, Sephiroth became the poster child of SOLDIER. We know that Cloud grew to idolize Sephiroth for how strong and brave the media made him out to be (A.K.A. had a celebrity crush on him), and that was what inspired Cloud to leave town and try to join SOLDIER.

As we see in the prequel game Crisis Core, Sephiroth at this point is well-respected by his peers after his efforts in conquering Wutai. His two only friends are Genesis and Angeal, who are also SOLDIER 1st Class, but they end up leaving SOLDIER, which means Sephiroth gets left behind. Considering that he already had abandonment issues to begin with, being abandoned by his only friends must’ve hit hard. I’d say this sets the foundation for Sephiroth’s downward spiral. However, at this point, I would argue that Sephiroth is still a good person at heart, despite all the trauma he has endured. He persists, refusing to hunt down his deserter friends, and even begins a hesitant friendship with Zack, who was Angeal’s apprentice.

Cloud befriends Zack as well, but doesn’t make it into SOLDIER and instead remains in the ordinary Shinra infantry, which is a crushing loss for him because he can’t achieve his dream. It’s at this point I like to imagine that if Zack had introduced Sephiroth and Cloud to one another, things could’ve gone better. Sephiroth is older than Cloud and outranks him, but with how isolated Sephiroth has been for his entire life I think there’s potential for a meaningful friendship here. They’re both very lonely and neither of them is really a people-person, so I think they’d get along well once Cloud gets over his hero-worship and Sephiroth manages to open up a bit. I would say that sefikura, if Nibelheim didn’t happen, has the potential to be a healthy relationship.

But of course, that’s not how canon goes. The Nibelheim mission happens, Sephiroth finds out that he’s not human and finally snaps after years of mistreatment, burning the town to the ground. Cloud manages to kill Sephiroth, ends up spending several years as an experiment, gets injected with Jenova cells, goes into a coma, wakes up just in time to watch Zack die, and ends up so traumatized that he creates a false identity for himself as a former SOLDIER 1st Class.

We’ve now reached OG FFVII. At this point, Sephiroth, while technically dead and chilling in the Lifestream, uses Jenova as a vessel to move around and takes advantage of Cloud, using him as a puppet for his own gains. He constantly dehumanizes Cloud and generally doesn’t give a damn about him as a person, while Cloud resents Sephiroth but can’t resist his manipulations. In a lot of ways, I think Sephiroth projects his own trauma onto Cloud here, because if Sephiroth had to suffer as Shinra’s puppet for his entire life, then Cloud should suffer as Sephiroth’s puppet as well. As a victim of horrific abuse, Sephiroth has a lot of justified anger, but he takes it out on the wrong person entirely. It’s definitely a very unhealthy situation.

But of course, unlike Sephiroth, Cloud doesn’t let his trauma define him. He reaches his breaking point and falls apart completely, but he gets back up, because unlike Sephiroth, he has a support system of friends who stand by his side and work together with him to defeat Sephiroth at the end of the game. For most of his life, Cloud has been chasing Sephiroth. This is where he finally catches up and surpasses him.

And here, the tables turn. Cloud kills Sephiroth but that’s never stopped Sephiroth before. This is where Sephiroth first develops his Cloud-obsession. He fixates on Cloud so hard that his hatred keeps him from completely fading away into the Lifestream. Cloud is literally his lifeline. (Isn’t it romantic? lol) He returns in the sequel movie Advent Children, where he fights Cloud one-on-one and basically just taunts him for 10 minutes before Cloud kills him again.  It’s implied that Sephiroth can keep coming back as long as Cloud exists as well.

Canon beyond this has, for a long time, been unknown territory. There’s a sequel game called Dirge of Cerberus that the fandom at large pretends doesn’t exist because it’s... kinda weird to say the least, lol. And it doesn’t really have anything to do with sefikura anyway. People have written post-canon sefikura as something that continues to be toxic, but there’s also fic that offers redemption and forgiveness for Sephiroth, acknowledging that he was a victim too. It’s left very open-ended.

All of this basically explains how I see sefikura. They’re two people who were alike in many ways, who could have been friends before everything fell apart around them, if things had been different. But they never did meet, before it was too late. Instead, they keep chasing each other, full of hate even though they’re probably the only people in the world who could truly understand each other’s trauma. The only real difference is that Cloud had friends to back him up while Sephiroth was abandoned, and I really, truly wish they could get an opportunity to reach some sort of understanding. And that would basically be it...

...but then the Remake happened. Diving into speculation territory here. I firmly believe that the Sephiroth we see in the Remake is a time traveller, or is at least aware of the future to some degree, and that the remake is actually a sequel where Sephiroth is quite literally remaking OG ffvii. He’s completely obsessed with Cloud to a degree that he never was in the OG, and considering how loyal the developers stayed to the characterization of basically every other OG character this immediately stuck out to me like a sore thumb even though it took me until the end of the game to piece it together.

I’m not kidding here. Sephiroth is desperate for Cloud’s attention in the Remake. He's constantly trying to touch Cloud, everything he says to Cloud makes him sound like a pining ex-husband, and he generally doesn’t do anything to harm Cloud except scaring him shitless simply by showing up. He actually has quite a few moments when he’s very gentle with Cloud. At the end of the game he basically even proposes to Cloud by asking Cloud to join him and genuinely seems upset when Cloud rejects him. And even then, he claims he doesn’t want Cloud (nor himself) to die.

For the life of me, I can’t wrap my head around what Sephiroth’s goal is in the Remake and I have no idea what they’re planning to do with his character in future parts, but I’m very excited to find out. The sefikura content in the Remake was very delicious and at this point the only thing they could do to surpass it in the future would be to have them actually make out on screen, lmao.

I hope this is coherent enough to read, I basically just tried to condense everything I could into a neat little essay and there’s definitely things I didn’t mention here, lol. I’ll write a proper, more well-thought out analysis another time!

Also, if you want to ask me anything else or talk to me about sefikura in general, my DMs are always open, both here and on twitter ;D

[witharsenicsauce]

Chosen Stories From the War #15: Love, Friendship, Family

(Content Warning: This chapter contains descriptions of domestic violence and physical/emotional abuse)

Bhandasura stared into his reflection in the mirror. His blue eyes were sunken, his neck nearly broken and bruises blooming on his cheeks. Behind him, Camazotz was standing like a barricade against Abyzou’s unceasing wrath. He could feel his lovers battling between their minds, screaming at each other without saying anything.

In a moment of frustration, Abyzou grabbed one of her trinkets-a golden necklace in the shape of a star-and hurled it at Camazotz. It whizzed past his head and cracked the mirror Bhandasura was gazing into, just like the action cracked her wrist and she dropped to the floor, screaming.

“Well, now look what you have done!” Camazotz gloated above her.

“YOU SHUT UP!” She glared at him. “THIS IS YOUR FAULT!”

“How did I do this, Abyzou? Did I make you attack Bhanda? You did that, all by yourself.”

“Curse you!” Abyzou straightened up, getting into Camazotz’s face. “Curse the very day I met you!”

“And curse the day I fell for you!” Camazotz’s anger made Bhandasura shiver. “I wish you’d crawl into a hole like the leech you are!”

“You say that, but come the hours passing, you shall be begging for my bed again!” Abyzou hissed.

“Hush.” Bhandasura closed his eyes. “Both of you.”

“Stay out of this.” Camazotz snapped at him.

“Do I not get a say anymore?” Bhandasura drew himself up and turned to them. “Forget not that I, too, have the blood of a Madron. You cannot give me orders.”

To that, Abyzou actually relented, stepping back, while Camazotz drew closer to him. “Was it not I who stopped her from killing you, Bhanda? Are you going to side with her again like you always do?”

“No…” Bhandasura placed his icy hands on Camazotz’s bony shoulders. “Are you two forgetting that this is not simply a marriage, but a partnership?”

Both Abyzou and Camazotz were silent.

Bhandasura’s body heaved. “I could not imagine a world in which I live without either of you.” He reached for Abyzou’s broken wrist, cradling it gently. “When we hurt each other...we hurt ourselves.”

.

.

The red sand of Sedona, Arizona reflected back the light of the rising sun that painted the sky purple, green, blue and red. The Avenger had settled into a large prairie at the bottom of a ravine, resting her wings under the shade of old evergreen trees.

Malinalli took a deep breath of the early morning air, running her hands through her curly hair. “Ahhh! Smell that breeze!”

“It is lovely.” Dhar-Mon yawned, still rubbing the sleep from his eyes. Their boots clacked against the metal floor of the Avenger dock as they stepped out onto the prairie grass. Even this early in the morning, it was clear the day was brewing to be a hot one, and Dhar-Mon suddenly understood why Malinalli had woken him up this early.

She was bright eyed and bushy tailed, beckoning him to follow her towards a more forested area. “So, where should we go to train? Do we need a wide open space?”

“No, not yet.” He assured her. “I will start you with simple techniques.” He looked around. “A place to sit would be quite ideal.”

“Maybe some rocks or a patch of leaves.” Malinalli rushed forward into the trees lining the ravine, and Dhar-Mon had to jog to keep up with her. She seemed to move effortlessly over such difficult terrain.

“Are you certain you do not see combat?!” He shouted, and she ran back and took his hand, helping him up a steep rock.

“Sorry.” She chuckled.

“Do not leave me.” He meant to sound gruff, but the softness of his voice surprised him, and even moreso did the look she gave him.

“I’d never do that.” She cleared her throat. “Um, here’s a grassy patch! Lets sit here.”

They stopped under the partial shade of some trees, the sun of the prairie still beating on them from the side, but it was much more bearable now. Malinalli scooted forward, wide eyed with expectation.

He chuckled. “So what can I teach you, little phantom, that you do not already know?”

“How to use psionics would be a start.” She chuckled.

He thought for a moment. “To use psionics is to be in harmony with one’s own mind.” He held his hands out. “You humans have more power within just one cell than you truly know. All you must do is access it.”

“So anyone can learn it?” Malinalli asked as she took his hands.

“...Yes…” He said hesitantly. “But for some, it is easier.”

“Like having perfect pitch.”

He nodded. “You are...gifted.” He added. “This power comes naturally to you. Had you ever used it before we met?”

Malinalli thought for a moment, her eyes staring at the shadows on the ground. “...Not...in any way that was meaningful.”

“Define meaningful.”

She looked up.

“Perhaps you were using your gift.” He smiled. “You simply did not know it.”

Malinalli giggled. “Okay, Professor Madron. How about you show me how to read minds?”

“Read the thoughts of those who would be hidden?” He raised a brow. “How forward of you.”

“I figure I’ll at least be able to tell if Vicky is bitching behind my back again.” She chuckled jovially.

He smirked and took both of her hands. “Let us begin, then. Tell me what I am thinking.”

She faltered. “...Um...you’d rather be asleep right now?”

“Well, I had said that as we were leaving the ship.” He chuckled. “In your early days, you will not be able to enter an unwilling mind. Later I shall teach you how, if you desire, but that...is dangerous in and of itself.”

“But I can read a willing mind?” She asked.

“With sufficient practice.” He nodded. “Close your eyes, Malinalli.”

She closed her eyes, taking a deep breath of the fresh, green air, and after a moment he followed her.

.

.

Gur-Rai sauntered down the hall, towards the Avenger’s large, now open garage. Even in the early morning, people were beginning to rise, milling about with cups of coffee in hand. Some looked half-asleep, others looked like they’d just binged on one too many cups of liquid energy and were getting the jitters.

He heard the clatter of a wrench, and turned to see just the girl he was looking for. “Lily Shen.” He called.

She turned away from the tool cabinet, looking at him somewhat in shock. “Oh. Hi Darkstrider…” She smiled at him, but looked...nervous.

“How formal.” He chuckled. “Ready to go fix up a bike?”

“Yeah, I’m just looking for all the tools we’ll need.” She turned back to the cabinet. “Dirtbikes haven’t been used in a while, so I’m a little worried we won’t have all the parts for one.”

“Well, let’s burn that bridge when we get to it~” Gur-Rai clapped, and Lily seemed to flinch.

“Oh-kay.” She handed him a toolbox. “Well I’m ready when you are....”

He followed her down the hall, away from the garage and down a ladder towards a basement area right below, so close to the ground they were practically touching it. The workspace was dusty, but some parts had been brushed off recently, where Shen had been poking around. Some wires were laying near a puddle of spilled oil, and Gur-Rai kicked them away, lest they start a fire.

Shen made her way over to a corner, where a huge sheet covered a monstrous contraption, keeping it hidden from view. “God, no one’s touched this thing since…” She trailed off. “...It’s been at least 20 years.”

“Then this is a true relic.” Gur-Rai chuckled, taking a corner of the cloth. “Ready?”

“Sure.” Lily took hold of the other corner. “One, two, three!”

They yanked, and with a shower of dust, the tarp came flying off.

Shen made a face. “Yikes…”

Gur-Rai had to agree with her, it certainly was a yikes. It was basically a frame at this point, the casing lying on the ground, with wires sticking out from those pieces that were still hanging on for dear life.

“I’d imagined it would be…” Gur-Rai trailed off.

“Functional?”

“Bigger.”

Shen looked him up and down. “...Oh. Yeah…” She put her hands in her hips. “Well, since we basically have to rebuild this thing from scratch anyway, adjusting the pedals shouldn’t be too hard.” She knelt beside the bike. “God, where do we even start?”

“From the bottom.” Gur-Rai grabbed a wrench from the tool box. “That’s what I always do when face with a challenge~”

“I really hope you aren’t talking about sex.” Shen sighed.

“Lily, you wound me. I am a man of culture.” He winked.

“Mhm, sure.” She picked up a crowbar and began to yank the loose plates away from the frame. “I’ve heard the stories, Darkstrider, I think everyone has. You got around, even when the Elders had a hold on you.”

“What can I say? Humans are just too great a temptation.” He knelt beside her, getting to work on unscrewing some of the rusted bolts.

“Well, that’s not creepy at all.” Shen grumbled.

“It was all consensual, I assure you.”

The look she gave him made it clear she doubted his words, and his smile dropped.

“I may be an asshole, but I’m no monster, Lily.” He insisted.

“No monster, huh? What about all the people you killed?”

“With the Elders screaming at me in the back of my head, I really had no choice in that matter.” He sighed. “The most you can do is become numb to the killing after a while. But the passion of holding a living person…” He shook his head. “No. That’s special. That’s not something you force.”

She looked up at him silently for a moment. “...You ever been in love, Darkstrider?”

“Oh yes.” He nodded.

“For real?”

“Of course. There have been a few special ones.”

A smile tugged at the corner of her lips. “Any of them tried to get you to quit ADVENT? Run off together like in the movies?”

He took a breath. “Hm...one did. The others; I think they wanted to.”

“Did you want to?”

“Lily.” He smirked. “If I didn’t want to leave the Elders, I wouldn’t be here. I would have done ANYTHING to get away from THEM.”

The casing clattered to the floor as Shen’s crowbar finally pried it free. “You really hated them that much?”

“Yes.” He tossed the rusty, useless screws over his shoulder.

“I’m certainly not objecting to that, but...how come you, of all people?”

He paused, his body involuntarily clenching up and his breath becoming caught in his chest. He swallowed and tried to smile, but to Shen he looked more nauseous. “They were shitty parents, let's say that.”

Shen nodded. “...Sorry.”

“Nah, don’t worry about it.” He looked away, hoping she couldn’t see the look on his face.

“Well, hey, tell me about one of your lovers.” She said. “Anyone stick out in your mind?”

“Oh, that’s a toughie. They were all so wonderful.” He chuckled. “...Oh, I know. There was one woman, about...four years ago. Her name was Donna Hall.”

“Yeah? What was she like?”

He smiled wistfully. “She was incredible. Bright red hair, little button nose, and these deep brown eyes, sharp as an eagle. She could see anything, you know. Nothing got past her.” He was now only half-focused on the bike in front of him, his screwdriver hanging loose in his hand. “She was part of a tiny resistance group in Canada. They were taken out by ADVENT, and she and her little family were rounded up and brought to a torture facility.” He smiled. “And I just happened to be there that day, browsing the specimens.”

Shen raised a brow. 

“When she caught my eye, I knew that if ADVENT took her, they’d sand her down, wear away those beautiful features and make her a clone like all the others.” He added. “You’ll never find her name in ADVENT’s database, Lily, because I took her with me before they could even think of booking her.”

“So...you ‘saved’ her?” Shen emphasized that word.

“In a sense.”

“How noble. What’d you do with her after that?” Shen said in an accusatory tone, crossing her arms.

“I brought her to my stronghold.” He smirked. “Gave her a room.”

“That’s it? Really?” Shen’s lip was curled upward slightly.

“Really, Lily. Don’t you trust me? Actually, don’t answer that.” He chuckled. “I thought of probing her for info, but I just couldn’t bring myself to hurt that pretty mind. So I just...kept her around. We would talk. Eventually she started talking more. Laughing more. She opened up to me, and I to her...and every day, we would go hunting.”

Shen’s face softened. “Hunting?”

“Of course. She was a game hunter, and, well.” He gestured to himself. “What’s a name for, really?”

“What’d you guys hunt?”

“The Elders’ little pets.” He chuckled. “Chile had a large population of Chryssalids that had run off into the wild. And she LOVED hunting them…” His eyes grew distant. “The hours we spent out there felt like minutes...I think that was the first time I felt truly immortal…”

Shen nodded. “She does sound fun.”

“She gave me a run for my money more than once.” He laughed. “Lost more than one bet to her...and I spent more time in her room than I did in my own.” He stopped, his face growing very sad. “I really wanted to spend forever with her.”

Shen held the silence for a moment. “...Did she...die?”

He shook his head. “No, she didn’t die. I let her go.”

“You let her go?!”

“Yep.”

Shen blinked in utter disbelief. “Weren’t the Elders mad?”

“Technically the Elders didn’t know I had her.” He smirked, but it looked painful. “I knew they would find out sooner or later though, so I...turned her loose, so to speak.”

“And she just...left?”

“She always wanted to leave.” He chuckled. “She begged me to go with her, too, but...I knew it’d only be a matter of time. I still had my collar.” He tapped the back of his head, where the chip used to be. “The Elders would find us. She’d never be safe.”

“So you...let her walk away.”

“If you love something, set it free.” He nodded. “And to be honest, Lily, I don’t regret it. Because I just know she’s still out there, fucking up ADVENT’s day, and that’s all I ever wanted~”

.

.

Up at dawn, as usual, the Shrinemaiden clasped her hands and breathed in the still morning air. The windows of the Avenger filtered in the orange light of the rising sun, casting it in a rainbow across the floor of her bedroom. She felt peaceful.

Until there was a knock on her door.

Kon-Mai opened her eyes, blinking at the sudden disturbance. Neither of her brothers had the tendency to awaken as early as she did so it was unlikely it was one of them. Perhaps Tygan? Or Bradford?

The person knocked again, and Kon-Mai rose from her lotus position, made her way to the opposite end of the room, and slid the door open. “...Betos.”

“Mordenna.” Betos nodded, her face cold. “Or should I call you Shrinemaiden?”

Kon-Mai hesitated at the coldness in her voice. “Is there something I can do for you, Captain?”

“Yes, there is. I have a patrol I’d like you to join today.”

Kon-Mai cocked her head. “Is that an order?”

“...No.” Betos hesitated. “But it is a strong recommendation.”

“Does the Commander know about this?”

“She does.” Betos crossed her arms. “I told her of my intentions last night.”

Kon-Mai grimaced warily. Something was not right here, but...she WAS trying to earn Betos’ trust, was she not? “Will it just be us?”

“No.” Betos smiled, but it was more of a scowl. “My own team will be joining us.”

“What will we be doing?”

“Patrolling the perimeter.”

“I will need time to prepare.”

Betos sighed. “Meet me outside, by the small cliff face to the west of the prairie. Do not take long, I have many people waiting for you.”

Kon-Mai nodded, and Betos turned and left, leaving Kon-Mai standing there, bewildered.

.

.

With her spindly fingers, Abyzou picked up her amulet, the golden one shaped like a star. Her wrist was still sore and stiff, but handling the necklace carefully, turning it over and over, it felt warm against her cold skin, and gave her a bit of relief.

“I am sorry.” She whispered, to no one in particular, but a presence behind her alerted her as she finished speaking.

“Do not apologize, lau Mordenna.” Reue’s soft essence behind her made her startle, and Abyzou turned to look at the smaller, weaker, younger Elder.

“...It is only you?” Abyzou seemed to sigh, and reached out her gangly hands to the younger’s face. Her red-tipped fingers grazed fragile skin, and Reue’s scratches bled purple ichor.

“I came to help you.” Despite the injury dealt, she seemed to relax in Abyzou’s presence. “Do you need me…?”

“I always need you, Reue.” Abyzou crooned. “Come, help me from my robes.”

“You want me to...undress you, lau Mordenna?”

Abyzou could feel Reue’s fear, and it made her shiver with delight. The poor girl was so utterly useless. “Yes, I do. Now help me quickly, I want to rest.”

Gently, Reue used her own bony hands to untangle Abyzou’s lithe figure from her robes, lifting the helmet from her head so her skin might be free. The wispy cloth floated to the ground like petals on the wind, and Abyzou’s grey, unworldly form was revealed.

When Elder Abyzou looked at herself in the mirror, she saw not the daughter of Shamash, who carried the blood of kings, and not a mother of six children, three of whom were dead: but the weathered body of a corpse that should have stopped moving years ago. She saw a dead woman whose time was running short.

When Reue looked at Abyzou, she saw her queen, her Mordenna, the daughter of the sun and the woman who would lead them to immortality. 

“Do you think I am beautiful?” Abyzou asked her.

Reue froze. “...Of course, lau Mordenna.”

“But do you mean it?” Abyzou looked back at her, and as she turned, Reue could see scars across Abyzou’s stomach, angry and twisted.

She looked away. “Of course I do.”

“Of course you do.” Abyzou pressed one cold hand into Reue’s cheek. “You understand...” She turned away. “...Did you ever have children, Reue?”

Reue seized up at the painful question. “...Only one…”

“Only one.” Abyzou echoed. “Well then you did your duty, Reue. You must be proud of yourself.”

“Oh...I am.”

Abyzou seemed to hum. “Of course you are. As I am, for the ones who live.” She mused. “Even if they betray me, even if they forget me, they still live by the sweetness of my hand. It is my blood that runs within their veins.” She looked back at Reue. “Who was your child?”

“A girl.” Reue said softly, painfully. “Named Oxum-Loba.”

“What a beautiful name.” Abyzou ran her hand over one, prominent scar on her chest, in the shape of a circle. “Did you foster her yourself?”

“I did. We were poor, lau Mordenna, we had no one else.”

“That is admirable.” Abyzou clenched her fists and Reue could hear her joints cracking. “I fostered my first three children as well...and gave them everything I had.” Abyzou’s tone grew dark. “I gave them everything.”

“Of course you did.”

“And yet, they all abandoned me.” She hissed. “I am the mother of six children, Reue, three who exist beyond the void, and three who have died in treachery.”

“Kon-Mai is not dead, lau Mordenna.” Reue said hopefully. “Maybe she will come back to you.”

“Oh she will.” Abyzou growled. “She cannot ignore the gifts of her mother. She cannot abandon her family.” Abyzou turned away from Reue, moving back towards the coffin that was her bed. “She knows her calling.”

.

.

Malinalli’s mind was chaotic, blinding and dancing with luminous color. it felt like gazing into a supernova. Dhar-Mon was hit with a burst of heat, then light behind his eyes. He faltered for a bit and almost let go of her hands, but held on.

“Your first lesson…” He grunted out loud. “Never remove yourself suddenly from another’s mind. It could...hurt you very much.”

“Okay…” She held tight to his hands.

Dhar-Mon braced himself against the brightness yet again, only for it to flare and cause him to nearly buckle. “Your mind is very...active.”

“I’m sorry.” Malinalli said, and Dhar-Mon felt the light dim and the heat turn cool. “I guess I was excited…”

He chuckled, the swirls of blue and green now much more bearable to look at.

“So, what am I thinking?” Malinalli giggled.

Dhar-Mon stared into the cloud of colors for a moment, watching the patterns forming and twisting. “...You are…” He raised a brow. Now that the brilliance of her excitement had died, he could see the mists of her mind forming new messages. “You are not hopeful of your abilities. You believe you are setting yourself up for disappointment.”

Malinalli gasped and tried to pull away, but he held her hands firm.

“I am sorry. Don’t fret, I am here.” He took a deep breath, and saw anxiety join her thoughts. “You think I will be disappointed.”

He heard her whimper, and squeezed her hands gently. 

“I just…” She was anxious, her mind frantically searching for words.

“You still believe your powers are weak.” He chuckled. “Even though you brought me back from the dead?”

She was silent at that, and he saw the clouds in her mind grow dark.

“I am sorry.” He rubbed his fingers over her hand. “I say so to encourage you. You are capable of so much, little phantom.” 

“How can you be sure?”

He released his mind, letting his own muscles relax, letting her into his thoughts.

“What do I think?” He asked.

He felt her tremble. “I don’t know.”

“Look into my mind.” He said gently. He tried to make his own feelings as clear as possible. “What do you see?”

She was silent for a moment, but he could feel her slip into his own consciousness. “It’s...purple. No, blue…” She sniffled again. “And green. It’s very misty. I can’t see very well.”

“Those are patterns of thought, of feeling and emotion. The mind does not need language to communicate.” He tried to summon up a happy thought, though it was hard to think of one. Finally he settled: he imagined his sister beside him, her fingers tracing his hand, bushing his hair away from his eyes as he awoke to her smile. “Now. What do you see?”

“The mist is making a pillar...kind of. No...a box? A triangle?”

“What color is it?”

“It’s...bright. Warm colors, yellow and green are the two big ones.”

“That is the shape of happiness.” He smiled, taking a breath and bringing up another memory: his father Bhandasura, appearing before him like an apparition of doom, his hand outstretched as Dhar-Mon’s mind was torn asunder that fateful day.

“Oh my-!” Malinalli gasped. “It collapsed! It’s...like a puddle? No, like a claw!”

“That is despair.” Dhar-Mon felt his own voice trembling, and cleared his throat. “Now, when I think of you, what image do you see?” He focused on the feel of her hands in his, and remembered the first time he saw her face. He remembered her singing, sitting by the river. He remembered the touch of her hand, the light in her eyes when she smiled at him, the sun reflecting off her copper skin, her smile, the desperation to reach her, the warmth of her arms as he lay dying…

“Oh…!” She cried. “It’s...so beautiful!”

“What is it?”

“It’s...a flower. Blooming from a seashell. It explodes and...now it’s a star. And the sun. And...it keeps moving, pulsating, bigger and smaller. The seashell is still attached.”

Dhar-Mon hesitated, his heart racing.

“What does it mean?” She asked.

“Well…” He fumbled for the words. “...It’s trust and...admiration. It means that...I am fully confident in you, Malinalli.” He hoped she could not feel his uncertainty. It wasn’t technically a lie.

.

.

Kon-Mai stepped into the rising sunlight, out on the grass and sand of the Arizona prairie. The trees were sparse and the grass under her feet became sand as she grew closer to the shallow cliffs. Betos was nowhere to be found.

She looked back at the Avenger, which was still in sight, in fact she could see people moving in the windows. They waved to her occasionally. She waved back.

“So you did come.”

Kon-Mai gasped, whipping around in surprise. There stood Betos, alone.

“Of course I did.” Kon-Mai grumbled. 

“Hmph.” Betos still eyed her with suspicion, but she nodded and Kon-Mai took that as a good sign. “Follow me.”

“Where are we going?”

“I have something to show you, Shrinemaiden.” Betos said her name with vexation.

“We are getting far from the ship.” She looked back at the Avenger as they began to climb the slight incline of the sandy hills.

“Yes.” Betos said. “It’s not far.”

Kon-Mai’s hand moved to the dagger in her belt, ensuring it was still there. It was.

The prairie grass turned to rocky desert and sand, as the ground beneath their feet began to slope upward more and more. Kon-Mai looked around at the disappearing vegetation. “Where is the patrol?”

“Ahead.” Betos said.

“Where are you taking me?” Kon-Mai demanded.

Betos stopped, looking back at the Chosen woman. “I sense you don’t trust me.”

Kon-Mai stood her ground. “You act suspicious.”

“It is you who I should be suspicious of.” Betos snapped. “And yet I am about to show you something sacred, Mordenna. You should hold your tongue, until you know how to use it.”

Kon-Mai growled but fell silent, following Betos across the cliffs. The Skirmisher woman hadn’t betrayed her yet, she supposed. She had no reason to think she would...

There were footsteps before them, and voices talking. She recognized the deep, throaty tones of Etheric, but the dialect was more twangy, spoken on the tongue.

“Savitr!” Betos called. “We have arrived.”

From behind the scrawny trees, three Skirmishers appeared, a man and two women, each in their haphazard armor, each with uncertainty in their eyes as they saw Kon-Mai.

Betos turned to Kon-Mai. “They will lead us to the village.”

“...Village?” Kon-Mai looked around. “What are you speaking of?”

“Betos, are you sure this is a good idea?” The man asked.

“I am.” She replied. “If you wish to earn your title, Shrinemaiden, you must witness not just the humans’ customs, but ours as well.” She nodded to the group and moved ahead of them, descending the red cliffs into the canyon below.

Kon-Mai bowed to them, humbling herself. “I am sorry. I didn’t realize we were going to your home…”

The male Skirmisher’s golden eyes followed her as she moved, and he held her gaze for several moments before he returned her bow.

“Follow me.” He nodded. “I am Savitr Vallinor.” He gestured to the women by his side. “These are my sisters, Nitocris, and Tanith.”

“I am Kon-Mai Mordenna.” She bowed to them. “Lead, and I shall follow.”

He turned his back on her, hesitantly, and led her down into the canyon.

.

.

“And then there was Alejandro.” Gur-Rai blew a whistle. “He had an 8-pack, a very sexy accent, and boy could he eat ass.”

Shen snorted as she laughed. “That’s so gross!”

“Hey, I don’t poop, remember?” He shrugged. “No reason it’d be gross!”

“Still!” Shen covered her face. “God! Okay, I’m done. Go on.”

“He and I went back and forth for a year, at least, maybe more. He lived in the city center as an insurance salesman-”

“ADVENT had insurance?”

“Technically they did. It was a worthless product from a company that was pretty much a government front, but the office was a great hookup spot~” Gur-Rai winked. “Sometimes I’d spend whole weeks over at his apartment. He’d cook for us, we’d chill, I’d lay around being a lazy ass, it kinda felt like we were married sometimes.”

“What happened to him?”

“Well.” Gur-Rai smiled sadly. “The Elders found out about he had some psionics in him and...spirited him away.”

“Oh...right the...missing civilians.” She sighed. “Do you know where they took him?”

“Lily, they’d never tell me.” He growled. “They knew about us…it’s why they took him.”

Shen sighed. “I’m sorry.”

“No, don’t be. I shouldn’t have snapped at you, Lily. Besides...It’s nice to remember all of them.” He stood up. “We’ve been making progress this whole time, haven’t we?”

Shen looked over her work. “I think that one combuster is still on the verge of exploding and the seat is way too low for you.”

“What time is it?” Gur-Rai asked, tossing the oil cloth over his shoulder.

“Um…” Shen checked her watch. “Quarter to 11. Wow, time really flew.”

“It does that when you have fun.” Gur-Rai extended his hand. “Care to join me for a beer?”

“Not if it’s a date, you aren’t my type.”

“Fair enough.” He shrugged. “Really, I’d just hate to leave the conversation hanging. You’re a very fun person to talk to, Doctor Shen.”

She smiled and took his grip, pulling herself to her feet. “Fine then, I’ll come along and you can tell me all about the vipers.”

“Oh, looking are we?”

“Nope, but some of the soldiers won’t shut up about them.” She chuckled as they walked off. “I assume you’ve-”

“Oh, many times.” He chuckled. “So Lily, what IS your type?”

“Electroactive polymers.” She said.

.

.

Elder Kompira’s skilled fingers danced over the forge, molding the superheated metal without even laying a finger on it. It was literal magic, and spellbinding to all who witnessed it. Even the Higher Elders would stop by to watch Kompira work.

Camazotz stood in the archway, gazing upon the younger Elder with intrigue in his eyes as he watched Kompira work. “You have incredible hands, Dessurik.”

Kompira nodded. “Thank you, lau Madron.”

“Mind if I give it a try?” Camazotz drifted forward and leaned over the workbench, blocking Kompira’s view and forcing him to set the metal aside.

“Madron I...am not sure that’s a good idea.” Kompira’s aura was always soft and meek, even moreso than Reue’s, but it was also always calm. This kind of nervous sputtering his body was emitting was unlike him.

“Of course it is a good idea! It is MY idea!” Camazotz grabbed the metal, pulling it towards him in black and purple smoke.

“Please be careful, Madron, it’s very hot! You could burn yourself!” Kompira cried, his hands shaking as he tried to reach out and protect the Elder from his own foolish decision.

“Are you patronizing me?” Camazotz demanded. “I am your superior!”

Kompira faltered. “That is true, Madron, but I have been working with metals since the birth of Andromeda. It is a delicate process-”

“Do not think you know better than I, lowly Dessurik!” Camazotz snapped.

“Madron, I do this because I care about you!”

That, finally, made Camazotz stop, contemplating his next move. He turned his eyes on Kompira, amusement apparent in his face.

“Care about me?” Camazotz chuckled. “What a scandalous thing to say, Kompira. I am wedded, you know.”

“That is not my intention, Madron…” Kompira was shaking. “I care for you like I would family or…”

Camazotz cocked his head. “Or a friend?”

“Yes…” Kompira clasped his hands. “And as your friend, I cannot allow you to take your health so frivolously! You are too dear to me, to this cause!”

Camazotz nodded, and put the melted puddle of metal back in it’s rightful place within the forge. “Yes, Kompira.” He patted his subordinate’s cheek harshly. “We are friends, aren’t we?”

Kompira relaxed noticeably. “Yes, Madron, of course we are.”

“Good.” With barely a flick of his frail wrist, Camazotz dealt a sickening blow across Kompira’s face. The slap rang out through the smithery, echoing in the metal halls and knocking Kompira to the ground., where the Ethereal lay crumpled, gasping in pain.

Camazotz laced his fingers together and leaned over Kompira’s fallen form. “A true friend would never doubt me.”

.

.

The village was large, possibly larger than what could be considered a village. In fact, it looked more like a small town. Savitr led Kon-Mai in through the front gates, where several small clusters of Skirmishers were milling about, out of armor and attending to seemingly mundane tasks. 

The bright, hot sun of Arizona beat down upon them all, and Kon-Mai saw many of them were scarcely clothed, walking around in shorts with bare chests and minimal footwear. Even most of the women had done as the men did and ditched their shirts, opting to leave their chests exposed. Kon-Mai nearly reeled back at the sight, but stopped herself. Her own reaction drew a chuckle of amusement from her lips. In the face of their release from ADVENT, these people truly had found freedom, she supposed.

When the people saw her, they stopped what they were doing and stared at her, whispering to each other, keeping their distance. Some ran inside, closing the doors of buildings and slamming shutters. Some, in contrast, ran out to stare at her, as though she were…

An alien.

“Did they know I was coming?” Kon-Mai asked Savitr.

“They had known you left ADVENT.” He said. “However, many are...still hesitant.”

She nodded. She couldn’t blame them, after all. She even recognized some of them: she’d seen them in battle before. They were scared with cuts and lashes, and she recognized those marks. For she had made them

There was a commotion to her right, and a woman yelled out in broken Etheric “Ismene! Do not tagh nukju vau!”

There was a thump against Kon-Mai’s leg, and she looked down in bewilderment.

A very small Skirmisher stood at her feet. It looked up at her with huge, innocent yellow eyes, it’s head adorned with a red bow that was wrapped around it’s skull, matching the red jumper it wore.

“What...are you?” Kon-Mai murmured in shock.

Savitr turned to her. “What do you mean?”

Kon-Mai backed up a bit, and the small Skirmisher reached out and grabbed at her pants. “My name is Ismene!” It chirped in a small voice, scratchy like the others, but high and soft. “You are pretty, what is your name?”

Kon-Mai looked to Savitr, trembling. “Why is it so small? Is it deformed?”

He laughed. “No no, Mordenna. SHE is a child.”

Kon-Mai looked down at Ismene again, who was tapping her foot expectantly.

“Your kind can have children?” Her heart was racing, but she didn’t know why as she knelt before the child. “...Hello, little one...”

“Hi.” Ismene smiled wide, revealing a few missing teeth.

“How old are you...?” Kon-Mai felt a strange warmness filling her body as she spoke. The sight of this little one filled her with a feeling old and long forgotten, but so familiar.

Ismene held up nine of her fingers. “I am almost nine years old!” She said proudly.

“Nine years old…” Kon-Mai chuckled. “I am nine years old as well.”

Ismene blinked, then giggled. “No, you’re not!”

“Yes, I am.” Kon-Mai returned her bright smile. The child’s happiness was infectious.

“No, you’re not!” Ismene giggled. “You are too tall!”

“I am tall.” Kon-Mai chuckled. “Any you are very short~”

“I am not!” Ismene stomped her foot.

“Yes you are. I can barely see you from up here.” Kon-Mai giggled at her reaction.

“Well, when I get older, then I will be tall like you!”

Kon-Mai raised a brow. “As tall as me?” She rose to her full eight-foot height. “Are you certain?”

Ismene was not deterred. “Yep!”

“Isme, come here!” A Skirmisher woman rushed forward and pulled the child away, bowing her head. “Jx ez nuwun sewu, Mordenna!”

“Please, do not worry.” Kon-Mai answered in English. “She was causing no harm. In fact, she is a joyous child. It was…” She met Ismene’s gaze, and that warmth filled her chest again “...a joy to meet her.”

The woman looked up, shock and wonder written on her face as Kon-Mai bowed to her.

“Goodbye, Mordenna!” The little girl called after her, waving excitedly as she and Savitr walked away.

Kon-Mai drew close to him, lowering her voice to a whisper. “You are the remains of ADVENT soldiers, are you not? How can you bear children?”

He looked up at her, irritation his face. “Do not invoke ADVENT’s name here, it will not help your case.”

“I am sorry. But you did not answer me.”

He sighed. “I do not know how. When we began to settle down, some of the soldiers wished for companionship. And that companionship led to the birth of many children.” He looked around. “The oldest are now entering their teenage years, and will start seeing battle soon.”

Kon-Mai cringed at the idea of little Ismene going into battle, against an enemy that could crush her with a thought. She was too young to see such conflict. They were all too young to see such conflict.

“How old are the new soldiers?”

“Not nearly old enough.” Savitr sighed. “But we must do what we can to protect ourselves. We cannot rely on defectors forever.”

Kon-Mai wanted to ask why more did not just leave. Then she remembered it literally took her death to break her from the Elders’ hold. “...They will need training.”

“They will.” Savitr raised a brow at her.

“I can teach them the ways of a blade, if you wish.” Kon-Mai said, almost eagerly.

Savitr seemed to hesitate, as though that comment had made him uneasy. But when he met her eyes, his face softened. “You would offer that to us?”

“If they will have me.” She clasped her hands.

Savitr laid a hand over his chin. “I am not sure they would accept you...but those who did...could learn so much from you…” He nodded. “I will discuss it with Betos.”

She nodded and looked around. “Is there any other way I can help this place, in the meantime?”

“Help? Are you offering, Mordenna?”

“I am.” She flashed her teeth in a grin.

Savitr returned it with unease. “Simply patrol the parameters with me and my sisters.” He said. “With luck, we will not need to use that blade of yours.”

.

.

Their conversation was not with words, but with shapes, colors and mist. All around them, mist and motion, mist and motion.

Malinalli stepped forward through the deep curtains of mist in Dhar-Mon’s mind. It was different from before, when their minds had been as one, when they had been psionically bonded. She retained her own body, her own thoughts, but if she looked around she could see the shapes of his mind. His thoughts formed patterns and stories without words.

“What is that?” She asked, pointing to a tall, blue pillar of mist.

“That is...duty.” He said slowly. “My sense of conviction.”

“Ah. And the red?” She pointed to a red swirl around the bottom.

“That…” He thought for a moment. “What does it look like to you?”

She concentrated on it for a moment. “...Dhar-Mon, there’s something there…”

“What is-” He broke off as a shot of pain caused him to scream. He almost ripped his hands away but Malinalli held him.

“I’m so sorry!” She cried, backing away from it. “I didn’t mean-”

Dhar-Mon was in his own mind yet again. There was darkness, the mist retreating like the ocean before a tsunami. Then, a brief flash of light, and an image crossed his field of vision, but only for a moment. 

A child, with dusky skin, no more than a teenager at most, sat curled in the corner of a stark white room. He was thinner than a corpse, with patches of blue across his body where his usual dark skin was flaking and peeling off, and his hair lay around him in piles on the ground. His eyes were purple, and black where they should have been white…

Malinalli pulled him into her arms, and suddenly he was awake, conscious again. She was holding onto him, her arms around his neck as she trembled.

“I’m sorry.”

“No.” He pulled her close. “No. That was not you.” He took a shaky breath, then let it out. “...I believe we should stop for today.”

“Okay.” She whispered into his neck, her face buried in his shoulder. “I’m sorry…”

“No.” He put his hand on her back and pulled her closer. “You made such progress today, little phantom. I am proud of you…” 

There was more he wanted to say, especially as she pulled away and looked him in the eyes with a smile as bright as the stars.

.

.

There was no time, down where they were. Yes, the days passed, but they could not see it. They slept for days or sometimes weeks, only to be awake again for a month.

Bhandasura was having one such bout of insomnia. He lowered his frigid body down onto the slab they called a bench, and tucked his robes around him. He hated this form, it’s limitations, it’s liability, and yet again he thought of all the ones he had known before who had ascended, leaving him behind.

“Bhanda?” A soft voice behind him said.

He sighed, cringing. “Please, Abyzou.”

He felt her move, shift to lift herself from her bed, and float over to him. “Are you still angry?”

Was he angry? He didn’t really know if “angry” described it. At the moment he simply felt sick. “Please, I do not wish to fight anymore.”

Abyzou hesitated.

“Why do you cause such grief, Abyzou?” He rose and turned to look at her. “Why do you do this to me?”

She seemed to draw back within herself. “I am so sorry, Bhanda.”

“How do I know you are sorry?” He demanded, his aura as cold as stone. Her silence left room for another, and he felt Camazotz enter the room.

“Bhanda, is she bothering you?”

“You are such a demagogue, Camazotz.” Bhandasura turned on him. “Both of you only think of yourselves.”

Camazotz looked as though he was about to turn on Abyzou, but Bhandasura had homed in on him and approached swiftly, getting in the face of the other Elder.

“You bring trouble with what you say, knowing Abyzou will react.” Bhandasura growled. “And then I get hurt. Do you know what that does to me?”

“I did not know Abyzou would…” Camazotz trailed off. “I am sorry, Bhanda.”

“You say you are, but you will do it again.” He slumped back over to their bed and lay his body upon the mattress of cold, iridescent liquid, glowing blue. “I doubt you mean what you say.”

“That is not true.” Camazotz scoffed. “Right, Abyzou?”

“Of course. I am always truthful to you, Bhanda.” She insisted.

“And yet how can I believe you?” He pressed a hand to his face. “How can I truly believe you still honor the vows you took to me?”

“Please, Bhandasura.” Camazotz fell to his knees beside the bed. “I will prove it to you.”

“As will I!” Abyzou fell beside him and gripped onto Camazotz. “We...we love you! And we love each other just as much!”

“I do not believe you.” His words rang in their minds and stung deeply.

“Tell us what to do then.” Camazotz reached for Bhandasura. “Tell us how we can…” He broke off as Bhandasura began to crawl forward, slithering like the Thin Men would, on gaunt arms and barely working legs.

“Show me.” Bhandasura pressed one hand to Camazotz’s cheek, and his own forehead to Abyzou’s. With a gentle push, he felt their minds open to him like parting water.

“I love you.” He whispered, pulling them towards the bed with him. “I love you both.”

.

.

Gur-Rai pulled off the welding mask and stepped back. “Would you look at that. I think she’s done, Lily.”

Shen followed his motions, blowing a whistle through her teeth. “Okay, I’ll admit it, I didn’t think we could pull it off. But this? This looks amazing!”

The bike’s blue casing glimmered in the setting sunlight. They’d somehow managed to fit it to be twice the size as before, Gur-Rai would have no trouble mounting it now. A high powered capacitor sat snugly in the front, and a turbo engine was tucked in the back. It looked like something out of TRON.

“With XCOM’s greatest engineers on the task? Don't be silly, Lily.” He chuckled. “This was child’s play~”

“Okay, okay, don’t hurt your back bending over to suck yourself.” Shen smirked. “But I’m flattered. Thanks.”

“Of course. I can’t wait to test it out once we’re on more even terrain.”

“Mind if I take her for a spin sometime?” Shen winked. “She is my baby too.”

“Go right ahead. I can co-parent like an adult.” Gur-Rai slapped her back and Shen stumbled. “Oh, shit, I’m sorry.”

“Don’t worry, I’m fine.” Shen chuckled. “Hey, I think Bryni is cooking buffalo wings in the canteen tonight.”

“Didn’t you say no dates, Lily?”

“Who said anything about a date? I wanna see which one of us can finish a plate the fastest.” She grinned.

“Lily.” He smirked. “I literally do not have a stomach.”

“Well then, I guess this should be an easy win for me~”

“Oh, hold your horses, Dr. Shen.” Gur-Rai grinned, bearing his sharp teeth. “Fine. You’re on.”

“Cool! Last one there's a rotten egg!” Shen took off, with Gur-Rai close on her heels as they jogged down the hall towards the canteen, laughing and screaming like children would.

.

.

Kon-Mai sat cross legged on the roof of the little hut. Ismene and about a dozen other Skirmisher children played below her, tossing a very dangerous looking rock between them and trying to strike it with a stick. Each crack of the stick making contact with said rock sent her nerves alight with worry, and she was getting ready to dive in if someone took said rock to the face. But the way the children laughed with joy lulled her back into ease. It all felt so right…

“This is…” Kon-Mai searched for the word. “Inspiring. I am nearly jealous of your tribe.” She giggled.

“These children are the gifts of fortune.” Savitr said, gazing over her but not quite meeting her eyes. “I suppose we do have to thank the Elders for that…”

Kon-Mai growled. “I would not thank them for anything. They merely did not steal your ability to have children. They did not bless you.”

He chuckled. “I suppose that is true.” He played with the laces on his boots. “You and your brothers…”

“What of them?” She asked.

He didn’t say anything at first, and she couldn’t quite read him. His face was like hers, almost. Cold and emotionless.

“You are not like us.” He finally said. “My sisters and I were born from the same pod. We have been together all our lives.”

“What are you suggesting?” She growled.

“Did you not fight with your brothers?” Savitr asked.

She was about to snap at him, but stopped. She had fought with them, after all. For years, their conflicts had escalated, sometimes reaching all out battles. More than once she had attempted to “reign in” the other two by brandishing her weapon at them, and more than once it had ended with them fighting, literally, to the death. 

And more than once, the Elders had reiterated their oath to one another. No matter how you disagree, how your anger swells, you shall do each other no harm. You are all our children. You all have our love.

They had lied about so much, they had beaten their “beloved children,” left them to die, so why did they insist on forging this bond?

Even out of their clutches, she held it. In fact, they had cultivated it even further. Out of the Elders clutches, suddenly they were not shy to engage with each other physically and emotionally. Their drive to fight was gone, all because they were free.

Why was it not so before? What else were her masters lying about?

“I’m sorry, Mordenna.” Savitr said, and Kon-Mai realized she had been silent for some time. “I did not mean to upset you.”

She finally looked up again. “My brothers and I stand in solidarity, having faced the wrath of our former masters and survived.” She nodded. “If we had any rivalry before, it disappeared when we were taken from the Elders’ grasp. We are…” She hesitated to use the word. “We are family now.”

Savitr nodded. “I am happy you have found such peace with them. They are good soldiers.” He looked back over the playing children. “The future holds promise for you, Mordenna.”

Kon-Mai looked down just as Ismene caught the rock, holding it up in the air in childlike victory.

She smiled. “I certainly hope it does.”

.

.

On their bed of silken blankets and otherworldly light, the three Elders lay within one another, hands clasped, legs entangled, Abyzou in the middle, Camazotz with his head on her stomach, and Bhandasura’s long body encircling them all.

“The future holds such promise for us.” He whispered to them. “My dearest loves.”

“Of course it does. We stand upon a foundation of friendship and trust.” Camazotz reached out and gripped Bhandasura’s shoulder.

Abyzou sighed, her cold hands wrapping around them both. “And we shall live to see our family blossom once again.”

.

.

.

.

.

(The moral of this story is that the Elders are all horrible people, to their very core.

It was fun to explore each Elder’s individual personality, especially when contrasting it to the Chosen, but they are all absolutely shitty in their own way, and I hope I conveyed that!)

Archive: https://chosenstories.tumblr.com/

[god-save-the-keen]

At plain sight - P.2

Book: Bloodbound

Pairing: Adrian Raines x MC (Amy)

Summary: Amy invites Adrian to a Halloween party and things turn out in a fun and hot night.

Warning: fluff / graphic sex / mention of death / fun / nsfw

Words: 4973 (This turn out longer than I expected 😂)

Note: English it's not my first language, I hope you have as much fun as I did writing this! Happy Halloween! 🧛

Catch up: At first sight P.1

Tag list: @blackcatkita @darley1101 @adrianrainesworld @alesana45 @choicesfannatalie @itscassandraleig-blog @desiree-0816 @mattrodriguezmylife @malakbesharah @bigmemesplz @marycarrillo21

It was too much. Her clothes, her red lips, her fangs and eyes. He was completely bewitched by her, he would do whatever she wants no matter what. Adrian sit her in the table and, standing between her legs, started kissing her deeply. Both of his hand climbing up her legs, reaching the edge of her skirt, her mouth subtly open, sighing softly, with her hands in his back.

"Adrian… Baby, the party." She said in his mouth. That damn party, he didn't care about that, he wanted her right there and right now. With all his effort, he separated from her.

"Don't worry, I have something only for you later" She climb down, grabbed her phone, returned to her mortal face and took his hand. "Thank for coming with me"

"It's my pleasure, Amy" He give her one last kiss before go through the door.

Once they arrive to the club she showed the invitation to the security guy and he let them in. It was a modern space, with flashing lights, trays of drinks everywhere and loud music. Amy did a little wince.

"Amy? Are you okay?" Adrian asked, worried, looking into her eyes.

"Yeah, I'm fine… It just, the music it's too loud, I guess since it's my first time in a club since... Well, you know, I need to get used to." He took her waist and kiss her cheek, starting to walk away from the speakers.

Her turned after Gaius killed her was slightly different, she woke up 2 hours before the normal time, she was surprisingly strong for a new turned and her senses more sensitive than the rest of them. He and Kamilah suspected it was her bloodkeeper side what was making those differences, after all, she was the first vampire bloodkeeper in history, but they weren't sure. If he was honest with himself, he was just incredible happy that she was okay, losing her, wasn't a option. Whatever comes, whatever powers she develop, they face it together.

"Amy! Oh my god, hiiii!" A woman, dressing as Holly Golightly started walking through them. When Amy saw her, she smiled and hugged her too tight. "Damn girl, you are strong!" Amy blushed and laughed trying to not sound nervous.

"Sorry Mila! I.. uh… started boxing and I don't control my strength I guess. Anyway, this is Adrian, my boyfriend. Adrian, she es Mila, my roommate in college"

"Nice to meet you" Adrian said with a warm smile. He observed Amy's face with a huge smile on it, and he felt blissful to be with her.

"Wait, I know you, I've seen your face before... Adrian as Adrian Raines, from Raines Corp?" Amy smiled wider and nod. "Oh, lucky girl, rich and hot as fuck." Adrian laughed warmly, maybe coming to this party wasn't that bad idea.

"You think that too?" He asked to Amy, with a mischievous smile.

"Why you think I'm dating you?" And she winked at him.

"And here I was thinking it was for my heart" They laughed and Amy kissed his cheek.

"Ugh, you two are so cute!" Mila said, with a dramatic manner. "Oh my! There is Viv! See later A, so nice to meet you Adrian" And Mila was gone.

"Who is Viv? You want to say hi?" Adrian asked while they started to walk deeper into the party, hand by hand, his thumb stroking her knuckles.

"No, it's fine, I don't like her. Viv it's Mila's college ex girlfriend, they date for almost a year and then she dumped her for some rock band girl. She told me, that when the chance came, she wanted to show off how great she was, I guess this it's her chance."

Adrian laughed softly and intertwining their fingers. Since Gaius attacked her, he wanted to feel her close all the time if it was possible, the feeling he had touching her body so cold when she was dying, was something he was trying to forget. Every time he touched her warm skin, he was peaceful, happier.

After a moment he notice a guy, in a Thor costume, staring at her, his eyes roaming her body while they walked.

"Hey… Who is that?" He asked but when Amy turned, Thor was gone.

"Who?" She looked around.

"Nevermind. Dance with me?" He asked, smiling, stopping in front of her.

"Adrian Raines offering to dance modern music?" She said with a dramatic gasp making him laugh. "How I can say no to that?"

"You can't" He said with a smirk taking her by the waist leading her closer to his chest.

"In that case…" She smiled and put her arms in his shoulders, looking lovingly into his eyes, moving her hips with the music. They dance close to each other, her hips rubbing his now and then, making him wish he could push her against a wall and touch her like he only knows. Instead, he kissed her deeply.

"Want a drink?" He asked taking a step back before his dick expose how much power she had on him right now.

"Yes, please!" She said happily and went to a more relaxed section while he went to the bar. He asked for a whiskey for himself and a Cosmopolitan for Amy, her favorite. As he started to walk through her, Adrian saw her chatting with the Thor guy while he putted his hand in the wall, above Amy's shoulder. He felt his blood boiling and went with her in a flicker.

"Hi baby" She said kissing his cheek. "Thanks" She took the glass he was passing her. "Adrian, this is Kurt, we dated in college. Kurt, this is Adrian, my boyfriend." She said and his arm sneaked around her waist, pulling her closer while she leaned against him.

"Oh, nice to meet you Adrian" Kurt said with a grimace. Adrian simply nodded at him. "So, Amy, baby girl, tell me about your life" Baby girl? Adrian though grabbing his glass almost too hard, frowning.

"Oh, you know, I work in Raines Corp, we are dating almost two years now and he is the vampire who turned me." Adrian choked with his drink while Kurt look at them blankly, what was Amy doing? He looked at her and she was smiling, relaxed.

"W-what?" Kurt asked, suspiciously.

Amy laughed and show him her fake wound and he laughed too. "But he is really a vampire."

"Yeah, the costume… pretty good." Kurt said watching Adrian carefully. He took another sip of his drink, squeezing Amy softly, looking at Kurt serious. He was taller than Kurt and he made him notice that.

"I know, right? You should see his fangs!" Amy said happily. "So powerful"

"Like, plastic fangs?" Kurt asked uncertain.

"Not completely" She giggled without more clarification and winked at him "It a shame he doesn't want to show them tonight, I love how they look on his smile"

"I like have my mouth free for you" He said kissing her near to her mouth.

"Cool" Thor took his hand of the wall, uncomfortable. "Anyway, enjoy your night guys. Adrian don't bit anyone, I guess" Kurt laughed nervously as Adrian look at him with disdain.

"Don't worry, we have our feeding programming for tomorrow." Amy said showing her fakes teeths, Kurt laughed again, still nervous and take off.

"What was that, Amy?" Adrian looked at her meaningful, raising his eyebrow.

"You can't denied it was fun!" She stand up in front of him, putting her arms in his neck with a mischievous grinning. "We are literally hiding in plain sight, no one's could suspect about us tonight and less with these costumes. It Halloween, everybody is supernatural today" She winked playfully and Adrian laughed, almost feeling sorry for Kurt. Almost.

"You, my love, are terrible." He kissed her while his free hand went to the small of her back. This it would be an interesting night to say at least.

"Oh look! That's Lauren, one time she got mad at me and stole my assay from the professor desk and I failed that class!" She looked at him pouting softly, caressing the hair in his nape. "Can we have fun with her? Please? Just a bit"

"Lead the way" He said with a chuckle while she took his hand.

"Lauren, hi!" She said with a fake smile. "How are you? Adrian, my boyfriend, Lauren, we went together to Professor Bushnell class."

"Amy! Nice to see you!" She looked at Adrian roaming his body. "And an absolutely pleasure to meet you, Adrian. Enjoying the party?"

"A lot" He took a sip of whiskey. "The drinks are decent and the necks look delicious. Tempting to bit them." Amy tried to hold her laugh, she loved when Adrian follow her in this kind of nonsense.

"Wha… Oh! Your costume, right!" Lauren observed his face, like waiting for any kind of signal that he wasn't going to give her… Yet.

"Yeah, I keep saying him that hold on until tomorrow for his feeding, I hope he listen to me." Adrian chuckled, and looked to Lauren's neck, finding her pulse which she covered it with her hand, unconsciously.

"I'll tried but no promises. Maybe you have some ex classmate that bother you back there?" He smiled at her, he loved to see her so relaxed, just having a little of er… almost innocent fun.

Lauren laugh a little, falsely. "By the way Amy, I wanted to say you how sorry I am about that assay."

"Adrian! You scared her! I'm sorry Lau, he's obviously joking" She slapped him softly in the chest and he took her hand and kissed her knuckles.

"Of course, of course! I knew that" She looked at him just when his eyes turned red for just a second, enough time for her to see it but also to make her doubt of what she saw. "I think I have to go. Uh, um, nice to see you both" And she disappeared into the crowd. They both started to laugh, Adrian looking her and taking a lock of hair that didn't fit in the ponytail out of her face.

"One more? Your pick" She said, grinning.

"Okay… how about that one?" He turned her softly while hugged her from behind, putting his head in her shoulder, pointing to a guy that was screaming to the waitress for his drink.

"Oh, nice one! That's Josh, he's an asshole. He invited me to a date and when I told him no, he hacked my phone." She said holding and caressing his hands in her waist and leaned on his chest "You know?… With you it's the first time I feel completely safe and loved, I never fully trusted any of these guys"

"I'm glad you feel that way… Even when it's not completely true." He said with sadness in his voice, holding her closer. "I putted you in a lot of dangerous situations. You died because of me, Amy. You died because I couldn't protect you" He said in a low tone.

She turned in his arms, holding his head between her hands, stroking his cheeks softly, looking at him in the eyes. "Adrian, baby, listen to me." Her face was serious but her eyes full of love. "I died because I couldn't just watch how he killed you, I could never bear that, I could never bear to lose you and I will never do it, not as long as I can avoid it." She kiss him softly in the lips, lovingly. "And you do save me, and not only this time, when I was mortal and I was a damsel in danger, you always save me and protected me, remember? You turned me, thanks to you, I'm here, even when I know you didn't wanted to do it like that. Never think otherwise."

"You really think that? You really feel safe with me?" He asked touching her cheek and staring into her beautiful brown eyes that he loved.

"I do. I always had" She hugged him and he returned the gesture, holding her close and kissing her forehead. "Now, let's go have fun with this jerk"

The guy was against the bar, bothering a bartender while she ignored him.

"Josh, hi! It's been so long" Amy said faking a happy tone.

"Do I know you?" He look at her up and down. "Andy right? What a babe like you is doing with a boring like him?" He was dressing like Pennywise but instead of scary, was pathetic, his makeup melting in his face and the costume was too small for him.

"Amy, and this is my boyfriend Adrian." Adrian looked at him with contempt. "He's also a vampire, you should see his strength and speed!"

"You better be away of my neck then" Josh said trying to be funny… And failing.

"I prefer that too, I don't like my dinner to be this annoying." He said, coldly. Josh stared at him, concern.

She laughed and hugged his arm, holding his hand. "I'm sorry Josh, he hadn't feed today, he used to do it with me, but as you can see, he can't." She said flashing her plastic teeths. Josh looked her lips and his eyes went down staring at her breasts shameless.

"You know? I'm changing my mind, I could feed on him and liberate the world from him" Adrian said, holding her protective and flashing his red eyes for a flicker, watching how Josh's face losses his colour.

"Please, do it!" Said the bartender he was bothering early passing behind them.

"You sure? Maybe it's a good idea" Amy said smiling happily, Adrian took a tiny step through him.

"Uuh, I think a pal is calling me so, um, I better go" And he took off almost running, crashing with a table in his way out. Amy laughed, putting her head in Adrian's shoulder.

"You were right, it is fun" Adrian pushed her against the bar, kissing her neck and stroking her waist, wishing he could touch her even more. "But I have a more fun idea." His mouth in hers, his tongue demanding control over hers.

"Luckily for you, I booked a room in the hotel above us." She said into his ear while the tip of her tongue touched his earlobe. She took his hand and lead him to a side door, entering a surprisingly quiet hotel lobby. After passed by the concierge, a bellman guide them to the elevators. Once they were inside, Adrian's hand went slowly from her waist to her butt, grabbing it while the bellman was with his back to them, Amy bit her lip, holding back a gasp and Adrian could hear her heart beating faster. When they arrive to their floor, and his hand return to her waist, the bellman open the door, give them the key and Adrian tip him. He pushed her against the door kissing her, she responded immediately, taking off his cape and vest. She separated her mouth of his.

"I have something to show you, sit over there." Her voice with lust and her eyes hungrily but she wanted to have fun.

"So demanding" He said already feeling his own excitement, his eyes darker with desire.

He sit while she fixed her lipstick and stand in front of him. She loosen her hair and started to unclasped her shirt, torturously slowly taking it off while Adrian eyes roam her body hungrily. He tried to stand up, he needed to touch her, to help her out of her clothes, caressing her whole body but Amy, with her new strength and speed, stopped him with her heel in his chest.

"No yet, baby" He sit back, feeling his pants more tight, his dick already so hard, wanting her.

She turned, putted her hands in the skirt zipper and started to open it, she took both sides of it and pulled down slowly. She was wearing a new underwear, different to any he saw before on her. It was red, the bra with a few strips around her breast, made of lace and the bottom part was a small triangle in the front and a thong, with the side with strips like the bra. She walked through him and sit in his lap, her knees in both sides of his legs, kissing him hard and deeply, rubbing slowly their hips together, moaning softly feeling his bone through his pants.

"You like it?" She asked in his ear and her tongue licked the side of his neck, leaving goosebumps in her path. He couldn't resist anymore, he grabbed her ass hard and carried her to the near wall, holding her there pinned, kissing her.

"I love it" His voice harsh, full of desire. "I've been waiting to fuck you since I saw you with that damn lipstick" He pulled her bottom lip between his teeth, making her gasp softly.

"Good, that was the plan" She said starting to take off his shirt, touching with her nails his abs. "Adrian? Can I ask you something?"

"Right now, you can ask me for the world and it would be yours" One of his hand touching her breast, playing with her nipple through the bra lace, kissing her neck.

"Don't hold back" And she bite his shoulder, hard. He groaned but separated a bit and looked into her eyes deeply, he wanted to do that with her, make her feel like no one could but he didn't want to hurt her.

"You sure?" She nodded.

"Since the turning I feel my body stronger, I feel bolder, I know you never use you full strength with me but you know I can take it now and I want to enjoy each new feeling and sensation with you" Her hand slowly sliding through his chest to his pants, holding his bulk hard. He groaned and close his eyes for a moment.

"Just promise me you let me know if it's too much" He said, serious, staring into her eyes.

"I promise baby" And his lips crashed on hers, harder, roughly tan ever before, making her gasp in his mouth. Having her almost naked ready to receive him without any kind of boundary, turn on him like never before. His mouth sucked her neck, leaving bruises that heal almost instantly and his hand touched her pussy hard through her panties. She panted, moving her hips with his hand, her skin hotter than never. He ripped off her thong with his hand, dropping the rest in the floor and she groaned to the sensation of the fabric being torn in her skin, brushing her.

She was already so wet, he could smell it even before feeling it. "I love when you are so eager for me" He said touching her clit, softly, exciting her, making her wanting more. "I want to do many things to you"

"Mmmmh and what stops you?" She said breathing erratically, with her eyes on him.

He stopped her in the floor and kneeled in front of her, putted her legs in his shoulders and keeping the eye contact, he stand up pressing his mouth in her pussy and his hands in her hips, firmly holding her still. She yelp, surprised and excited in equal parts, feeling a tingle in her belly, his mouth hot in her skin taking her to a new level of excitement. He lick, bit and sucked her clit, bang her with his tongue, he took of one of his hands of her hips, sliding it across her belly and thighs until her pussy and push a finger inside her, as deep as he could.

"Oh my god, Adrian!" Her hands flat against the wall, being so higher with him eating her like that, was the most exciting thing she ever felt. One of her hands went to touch her breast with her nipples already hard as rock but Adrian stopped her in a flicker.

"Don't touch yourself. I'm the only one who can touch you tonight. I'm the only one who can make you feel like this" He putted a second finger inside her, moving them so fast and hard that she can barely breathe.

"But-- I--" His teeths pulled her clit and she moan loud. She down her hand, closed her eyes tightly and grabbed his hair hard. He groaned inside her.

"That's my girl" He keep pushing his fingers, his teeth biting inside her, his tongue liking every part of her. Her moans louder and louder, she is close, so close, he's driving her crazy, her skin on fire, her pelvic it's burning, feeling him everywhere, her hips trying to move with him, searching for her release, but his hand firmly holding her.

"Oh god! Adrian! I almost--"

"Hold it" He said, demanding, she felt another tickling of excitement. "Look at me" He said with the his voice muted from inside of her. She opened her eyes, red like his and her fangs sparkling with the light. He putted a third finger, going so deep and hard that her legs trembled in his shoulders, her heels digging into his back.

"Oh fuck!" She yelp, he felt in his mouth how desperate she was for a release but he wanted to take her to the extreme. He let go her another hip, her hips finally moving with his mouth, stepping out the pace, with one hand he caressed her clit and with another he keep moving three fingers inside her, while his mouth sucked the skin of her thighs.

"Adrian! I- I can't!" She was breathing erratic and hard, her head falling back against the wall, her mouth open panting and moaning and every single part of her burning.

"Come for me, Amy" She came harder than ever before, pulling his hair even hard as she let out a loud moan, shivering and saying his name repeatedly. He return one of his hand to her hip and his tongue to her clit, keeping touching it softly until her orgasm ends. He downed her and hold her, kissing her throat, neck and shoulders, her legs still trembling, trying to catch her breath.

"Adrian… that was…" Her voice harsh and her lips on his once more, kissing him roughly. "Incredible"

"You think I'm done with you?" Lust all over his factions and voice, he pulled her bottom lip between his teeth again, harder, and she sigh softly.

"I hope not. But this-" She pulled the collar of his shirt "-and this" Her hand grabbed the fabric of his pants near to his cock "are bothering me" He grinned taking his shirt off while she took care of his pants, grabbing his bulk through the thin fabric of his boxers, hard. She pushed him through the chair again and climb on top of him, her naked pussy pressing against his dick with the boxer in the middle while she bit him in the neck with her fangs. Adrian groan and torn apart her bra, grabbed her ass with both hands pulling her closer to his cock, his mouth in her boobs licking, sucking and baiting, her hands in the chair backrest in both sides of his head, sighing and panting softly with her head falling back.

"Tell me what you wanna feel" He said before scrap the already sensitive skin of her breast with his fangs while his hand pulled her hair.

"I--" A groan escaped her lips. "I want to feel you inside me" Her pussy wet again against his boxer. He took her to the bed, drop her in the middle and took off his underwear. He climbed on top of her, took her hands in his and pressed his hip against hers without entering.

"How much you want it?" He let go her hands and started to roughly kiss every part of her body, biting with his fangs, scraping her skin and moving his hip softly.

"I want it like I never before" She made a choking sound, trying to talk with her rapid breath, one of her hands go between them to touch her clit and once again, Adrian stopped.

"I said no touching yourself" And took both of her hands above her head in one of his, kissing her mouth deeply. "Tell me"

"Shit, Adrian, I want it so badly!" Before she could continue, he entering her, filling every inch of her, so hard that the bed creaked under them "Yes! Oh god! Mmmh....More!" He freed her hands, came out and enter again, hard and fast, the bed cracking under them, one of her hands in his back, tearing his skin while the other in his nape, pulling him closer, no matter how hot or sweet they were making love, she always wanted to feel him close and he love it too. He keep coming in and out of her, making her moaning, her whole body with goosebumps, scratchings and bruises, he groaned in her ear and nids her earlobe.

"Keep making those sounds for me" He bits her shoulder hard and touched her clit without stopping his thrusts, her back archer at him, overwhelmed. She moaned, groaned, panted, he was driving her crazy. He had his back full of scratches where her nails had been.

"Adrian! Fuck!" He grabbed her and with super speed and strength, rotated them so she be on the top, riding him. She putted her hands in his chest, scratching it, leaving drops of blood under her hands. His hands in her hips so tightly that leave bruised on it, making her move faster and deeper.

"Don't stop" He said while his hands climbing from her hips to her sides finally landing in her boobs squeezing them hard. He grabbed her butt once more pulling her closer and deeper, and sit up, with her still riding him and his head went between her breast. His hand roughly touching her clit while his mouth sucked her breast, her hands in her back, holding Adrian's leg, moving her hips fast.

"Adrian! I-- I need--!" She came hard, shivering, moaning loud, screaming his name, putting her hands on his back, scraping his skin once more. Adrian follow her, cumming inside her while he hold her close and kissed her lips. They fall on the bed, with her on top of him. After a while, Amy rolled out of him and hugged him by the waist, resting her head in his chest.

"Are you okay, Amy?" He asked watching her skin heal and her chest up and down fast. He caressed her back softly looking into her big beautiful, again brown eyes. She looked happy and satisfied, and even if they already had made love after her turning, this were the first time that they fully used their powers on it and he was worried it would be too much.

"That was… mind-blowing" Amy looked him touching his cheek with adoration before kissing him slowly but firmly. "I'm perfect baby, really, and I love every second of it, it was the most incredible sex I ever had and I love sharing this with you." She nestled with him, softly caressing his chest. "But you own my a new underwear." She said looking at the torn thong and bra.

"It so worth it" He chuckled and covered them with the bedcover, pulling her closer.

"Thanks for tonight… For coming with me, used a costume and blow my mind off" Her head landed in his chest, plating a soft his above his heart.

"You don't have to thank me". He kissed her head, caressing her back and waist under the bedcover, feeling her warm and sweaty skin. "I enjoy it, every part of it." He took one of her hands and kissed the inside of it before intwine their fingers together. "Although, this part it's my favorite."

"Mine too" He felt her smile in his skin and he smiled too. After a moment, she leaned on her elbows and look at him, serious but full of love. "I need you promise me something, Adrian."

"What is it?" He asked stroking her cheek and observing every detail in her face.

"Promise me you're going to stop blaming yourself for what happened with Gaius." Her voice firmly, her eyes never leaving his. He stood in silence for a moment, still caressing her cheek, staring into her eyes.

"I don't know if I can, love. Every bad thing that happened to you since you met me, was because I couldn't kill him the first time we beat him. He almost destroyed New York because of that." His eyes showing how much guilt and pain he was carrying. "You died because of my weakness, Amy"

"Adrian, I never thought I could love someone like I love you, just for that, it's all worth it. I wouldn't change anything of what we been through together. And maybe my mortal part died that day but I'm still here with you, we are together and fine" She moved closer and kiss him, while his hand hold her tightly by her low back. "Never think your kindness as a weakness, it's one of my favorite things of you and is what difference you from Gaius, Vega or the Baron. You need to forgive yourself" Her eyes sad, she hated see him suffering.

"Okay, I'll try. For you" Her head returned to his chest while her hand started to caressing him softly again. "I love you, Amy. You don't have any idea how much."

"Good, 'cause I love you too, Adrian" she said closing her eyes and hugging him tightly, feeling his arms around her, protective and loving. "And I'm planning do it for a very long time." Maybe this should be their new Halloween tradition, after all, they had many more to come.

❣️

[clean-bands-dirty-stories]

Why? ~ F.W. (Part 10)

A/n: This has been written for ao long, I'm sorry I'm only posting it now. Upside: It's edited! First time for everything I guess lol

Word Count: 5400+

MASTERLIST

I was looking at the castle when they came out. Still a bird, perched high in a tree, I turned when I heard the ruckus. I flew closer, making sure they couldn't see me as I evesdropped. "So you've had a kid?" Black was asking Lupin.

"What? No." Remus almost laughed. "She's Harry's age, Sirius." He gave Black a meaningful look that wasn't too well received. Black moved away, to a little place that allowed him to see Hogwarts through the trees. It bothered me that he and I had done the same thing to seek comfort- look at the school. I wondered if he still saw a home when he looked at the building, or if he just saw good memories and a life he'd lost. Harry joined him after a second and they began to talk. I flew to Ron, turning human again. "You finally figured out that spell." Lupin smiled as I approached and I moved next to him, nodding. I looked at Black. Lupin sighed as he stepped up next to me. "You should tell him."

"How can I?" I whispered. Hermione and Ron were both giving me the same looks Lupin was. "He can't know I'm HIS daughter. He doesn't even know I was born. There's enough-"

"You're my daughter?" I turned around sharply to see Black a lot closer than he had been before. He had a tender look on his face. He smiled a little. "Guess I should have known. You remind me so much of myself, in a lot of ways."

"People keep saying that." My voice came out wet, my words cracked and broken. "They said it a lot. I'm just as mad. Just as capable of killing people. Just as much a mistake. Not even wanted by a murdering psycho."

Black looked stunned by the harshness of my words. In fact, everyone did. "Have people been saying things about you again?" Hermione asked gently.

I shut down. She reached for me and I recoiled, finally snapping. "As if you care." She jerked away, her eyebrows pulling together. I stepped away as I looked at all of them. "Look," I directed at Black. "You've got a nice little thing going here. You're going to be proven innocent and you can live out your dreams of being reunited with at least one... friend." I paused when I said it, eyes flashing to Lupin. When I looked back at Black, there was a different shock in his eyes. He hadn't been so prepared for me to know so much about his past. "You have Harry, who needs a real father figure as much as you need a family. You can satiate each other." I turned away.

"But he's your dad." Harry's words hit me. "You HAVE your dad, and you're turning away from him? He's good, after all this time, and you can have a relationship with him. I wish I had that opportunity." His words were bitter and mean. He was pushing me like every other person at this damn school bad been since the beginning of the year.

I turned on him sharply, my eyes blazing. "But your dad's dead, I get it!" He flared. I felt guilt instantly but I didn't dare show it. I was on a full rage and my pride was too demanding for me to step down so all I did was step forward, drawing to my full height only to still not reach him completely. "Honestly Harry, you're lucky. I know you don't see it now, but I'd rather have a dad who died a hero than a dad who've I've been trained to hate my entire life because he's supposed to be a deranged, dangerous maniac. I've been forcing myself not to indulge even a second of hope for thirteen years because if I even STARTED that, I would hurt myself. So PLEASE forgive me for not being able to handle him suddenly being good and here and ready to be my dad as if I haven't spent my whole life thinking he'd hate me even if he DID know I was alive. That he- he'd- kill me or-" I couldn't breathe. I was clutching my chest while everyone gawked at me in total horror. "It's e- enough that people are terrible about it! People from my OWN house! It's bad enough that I'm a bloody Slytherin! Put on top of it that I'm HIS daughter and the single worse Slytherin and friend and child ever and why would he want me even- even-" I stumbled, gasping for air desperately.

A hand rested on my shoulder. "Whoa," a voice that sounded weirdly far away and echoey said to me. "Just breathe, okay? I know it doesn't feel like you can't right now, but just close your eyes. Think of five things you can hear. Name them for me."

I closed my eyes, trying to stabilize myself. "Uh-" Five things I could hear? "The- the wind," I rasped out, still breathless. I tried to focus on the leaves brushing together and the bushes moving as they were blown. "I can hear someone breathing." It was the person close by, who had stepped up to help me. "S-someone shuffling their feet. The leaves are moving." Suddenly whoever was shuffling went still. "My- my breathing." I squeezed my eyes tightly, reaching up so my fingers curled into my shirt, gripping the material desperately.

When I didn't respond for a few seconds and my breathing got worse, the person's hand lowered to my back. "Name one more thing for me."

I couldn't really hear anything else. "Uh..." I stalled. I swallowed. "My... voice?"

"Good job," the person eased. "Now tell me four things you can feel."

Dear heaven, this was a lot of thinking. "My heart in my chest," I began without really thinking about it, my other hand moving over my chest as well, but this time to flatten out over my other hand, about where my heart would be. "The cold air. The wind, again." I winced.

"That's great. It's okay to name similar things, or the same thing. Tell me one more thing you can feel?"

Finally my thoughts aligned again. "Your hand on my back."

There was a small, almost-laugh sound of amusement. "Brilliant. Now, three things you can smell? This can be anything as well."

This time when I paused, it was to think. "I don't know if it counts, but the crisp air were it's really cold and kind of burns the inside of your nose if you inhale too much?"

Another huff of amusement, softer this time. More like a hum. "Yes, that works."

"Dirt," I added. "And... dog." The word almost didn't make it out of my mouth as I suddenly felt very close to the voice that had felt forever away just a moment ago. Too close.

"Okay," the person began again, this time slowly and more hesitant. The hand fell away from me and I found myself sad about it. "Now, two things you can see. Open your eyes for this one. Just look straight ahead and name the first three things that come into view."

I was hesitant to open my eyes, afraid seeing the man that set me off so much so close by, helping me and caring and being compassionate and attentive. Something I'd so long craved; something I had forbid myself even imagining. Now it was real.

As I allowed myself to go down that thought path though, my chest constricted and my breathing began to pitch and become more shallow so I pushed away my feelings and over thinking habits for a second and opened my eyes slowly, strictly keeping my eyes ahead so as not to see him. "The- the silhouette of the trees against the night sky." He hummed, encouraging me to continue. "The..." Suddenly, the clouds in the sky moved and I was basked in moonlight. Just as it was happening a horrible thought hit me and I spun around, pushing past my father to see Lupin. "The moon," I choked out, sick to my stomach for a whole different reason. Right as the moonlight filled the night and we were all light up, Lupin met my eyes and Hermione gasped. From behind me, Sirius Black shoved passed me and ran to the teacher, pressing against him and trying to calm him down.

I shouldn't have had a choice. The thought shouldn't have occurred to me. But, it had, and now I had to choose. Did I run and leave all my friends behind with a werewolf and a would-be murder? Or did I stay and... and do what? As I was debating something that shouldn't have even been a question, Snape ran out of the tree, facing the trio with anger. But then Hermione made him aware of the scene with Lupin and Black and for once he did a good thing, flinging his arms out to hide the children and make himself a bigger target.

Lupin flung Black off of him into bushes as he reached full transformation, and I watched as Hermione pushed past teacher and friends to try and approach the wolf. "Hermione-" Ron squeaked, reaching out to her even though he couldn't quite reach her.

Hermione hushed him. "Professor?" She tried tentatively. She took another step toward him.

Lupin looked at her for a long time. Even though it was only a few seconds, that hit of time seemed to stretch for eternity. But, as long as it felt, it was over too soon as Lupin broke the eye contact to reach up to his full height, an angry howl ripping from him. As Hermione stumbled back I was suddenly shaken into reality, jumping into action as I jumped into the air, turning back into a crow and flying around Lupin's head maybe a split second before Black jumped on Lupin as a dog, trying to tackle him as I distracted him. We worked together to get him away from the others, and it seemed to work for a minute, getting him far away from the others so Snape could begin guiding them away, to safety. But then Lupin smacked Black and the dog went flying again. Unable to physically fight off Lupin like Black had, I shot into the air and out of hurting range... but not before I got a vicious swing that had claws catching my leg. There was a snap before I got far enough away that he couldn't reach me anymore. Mercifully, there was another howl of a wolf that called Lupin before he could attack the others.

Landing on the ground, I turned human again just in time to see Harry breeze past me toward where Black had gone down, screaming his name. Snape caught my arm as I deliberated on following with my messed up leg that was clearly broken. "Back to the school. Now." He looked so angry, glaring at me, that I finally gave in. My already limited bravery ran out as I turned back into a bird, shooting off toward the school and away from the teacher, leaving Hermione and Ron alone with him. I'd have to feel bad about it later.

So much had happened in so little time. I ended up in the courtyard, landing awkwardly on the ground as I turned back into a human, hand on my leg as I leaned against a wall. My leg was bloody and twisted terribly. I reached down to touch it, wondering if snapping it right would make it worse or better. My hands came away red. I cursed under my breath, closing my eyes and thinking. Would I go to Madame Pompfrey? That would be logical, but then she wouldn't let me leave the rest of the night and surely she'd ask a lot of questions. I couldn't deal with her hovering and worrying and mothering right now. I needed air. I needed to breathe and calm down.

Deciding against taking care of my body in favoreof taking care of my emotions, I sat down on a bench. I leaned back on a wall, face buried in my hands as I tried to catch my breath and right my mind and heart. My leg went numb and I began to cry.

I cried for the life I should have had, before I was landed in an orphanage and denied happiness with not my terrible mother who was selfish and nasty, but two fathers who would have loved me with all their hearts. Remus and Sirius should have gotten together and raised me same as James and Lily never should have died, being able to raise Harry in a warm, loving home that was bright and happy and complete. Harry and I should have grown up practically siblings, coming to Hogwarts with arms around each other and his forehead lacking a scar and my last name lacking a tarnish. I wondered a moment if I would have gone by Lupin or Black.

Liv Lupin. I liked the sound of that. So much better than Ylva Black. A name ruined and dirtied. A name that was too old and proper and witchy. Why couldn't I have had a normal name? A common name? Why couldn't I have been Liv my whole life, knowing love and home and companionship and being comfortable with emotion and intimacy? Maybe then Fred wouldn't be stuck with a girl who could barely function. Who might not ever be able to love. A girl who can't even call him her boyfriend despite being crazy about him because the idea of officializing a relationship was too much like daring fate to hurt her more and she just couldn't take the fear it caused her.

I must have been there an awful long time because, as I would learn later, a LOT would happen while I sat there. I only saw another person again when Ron would run up, his eyes wide and face drained of color as he took in my emotionally tattered appearance and my jacked up leg. "Liv." I waved weakly. He cleared his throat, gathering himself. "I was sent to look for you and take you to Madame Pompfrey." He rubbed the back of his neck, almost... guilty. "I know you'd probably prefer Harry or Fred, or even Hermione, but..."

In that moment, something clicked for me. My eyes tested up and I began crying. At some point I'd stopped - I never cried for long - but now it came again, even harder than before, or had ever. I didn't care that Ron could see me. I stood despite my hurt leg and limped to him. He had to catch me as I threw my arms around his neck, burying my face in his shoulder. "Thank you, Ron," I whispered into his shirt. "Thank you for coming. I'm so glad it was you and that you came for me. I'm sorry I ran off, and that I've avoided you guys for a while now and that I haven't been around or a good... a good g- girlfriend to your brother." I released a breath as I said it. Ron let me talk. "I'm sorry I haven't been easy to get along with and that I've been stubborn and closed off. I'm so sorry I wasn't there for you guys. I haven't really formed a friendship with you and I've left Harry on his own. I'm sorry."

Ron sighed, hugging me back, speaking only when he was sure I was done. "You know, my mum told me once that I was an idiot. She said it was okay though because I was still young." He laughed softly and I found the sound contagious, chuckling wetly as well. "I think we're all young. Too young for the way people talk to you and look at Harry and treat Hermione and ignore me. For the way this stupid school works with its stupid rules and expectations." He shrugged. "Don't be so hard on yourself. I'm not a great friend either. Merlin knows where we'd be without Hermione, or Harry. I think that's what's great about friendship. You all work together to overcome your weaknesses, and you forgive each other's mess ups because they forgive yours. Kind of cool, honestly."

I leaned away, smiling at Ron. "You know, you're kind of smart."

We both laughed as Ron rolled his eyes. "I am VERY smart, thank you very much. We just have Hermione around who's inhumanly smart, ruining the normal people so everyone else looks dumb." I nodded and we both calmed, the somber mood creeping in again. "Do you want to-?" He began.

Before he could finish though, there was a shout of exhilaration mixed with a scream and the sound of hooves on stone. Ron and I turned to face the sound to see Black, Hermione, and Harry of all people on Buckbeak's back. Buckbeak who was supposed to be dead. With Ron's help we both made it over as Black and Harry talked in low voices.

As the older man turned toward the hyprogriff, his eyes landed on me. We both froze, looking at each other. He swallowed. I thought we were both turned into stone suddenly, until he broke the spell by walking over to me. He saw my leg and frowned. "You're hurt."

I shrugged. "After you got tossed, Lupin sort of..." I shrugged again. "Caught my leg." A pained expression crossed Black's face. "I'm not sure if I should visit him tomorrow. Convince him not to hate himself for it. The sight of me might make him feel worse."

"You should visit him," Black told me. "It would be better if he sees that you forgive him. Otherwise he'll keep himself up wondering if you hate him, which is so much worse for him than the hate he'll feel for himself. You two were... close?"

Without thinking, I answered, "Yeah. He was the closest I got to a father." Then my eyes widened and I winced.

Black placed a hand on my shoulder and my eyes met his. His smile was weak but present. Ron looked between us before excusing himself. Black directed me back to the bench, mostly carrying me before we sat next to each other, talking quietly. "Liv, I feel like..." He ran a hand through his hair and I tried to hold back a smile. I did that too. "I mean, you know I didn't know, right?" He was searching for something to say. "There's only one woman I can think of, and... is she treating you well?"

I sighed and he deflated. "She sent me off to an orphanage. I was there quite a stretch before the whole "Sirius Black murders 13" debacle. For a year, the Headmistress actually liked me. Then, she found out I was a witch and you were my dad and... pretty downhill from there." He rose an eyebrow. "She doesn't like witches." From the look on my face, he got the message.

"Liv," he whispered weakly.

I cut him off, wrapping my arms around his neck and pulling him into a hug. He paused in surprise before slowly hugging back. "I'm sorry I hated you so much. I- I know I did it to protect myself and you can't imagine how much you being innocent came as a shock, but... I'm glad you're not dead. And I'm glad that in the end we found each other. Even with everything else, knowing that someone out there actually cares about me. It's nice."

He sighed into my hair. "You know, I don't hate you." I locked up and he rubbed my back soothingly. "You're a Slytherin?" I nodded. He paused and then sighed. "Well, you're a good kid. If you can make Remus like you, then I can approve." He leaned back. "I would like to get to know you, though. Do you think any amount of effort could make up for thirteen years of absence?"

I managed a real, wide smile. "I think we could make something work."

Harry came up then. "Sorry to interrupt." His face was drenched in guilt. I wiped the remaining wetness off my face and smiled up at him. "Sirius, you have to go. So do we. If we're not back in the Hospital Wing soon, someone's going to tie us with Sirius' escape, and maybe catch him again. Also, your leg..."

"Wait, escape?" I asked, my heart plummeting into my stomach.

Sirius sighed heavily, his smile gone again. "I'm afraid Peter got away. We've no proof I'm innocent. Hermione and Harry barely broke me out."

My eyes wide, I looked at Harry with a bewildered expression. "We have a lot to explain. On the way. You think you can run on that leg?"

I paled and his shoulder sagged with anxiety. "You can carry me as a bird maybe? And then I can turn back before we go in?" He nodded, peeking up again. We all stood.

Sirius caught my arm, stopping me. He placed a kiss on my forehead. "I've made a lot of mistakes in my life, but you, Liv, are one of the few things I'm proud to say are mine. I'm proud you're my daughter."

I was stunned. "I-" He began to move away so I raised my voice. "I'm proud you're my dad." He paused, on top of Buckbeak now. "You're a good man. I hope that we work it out one day." He nodded to me, smiling, and in his expression I saw a promise. One that put me at ease. He took off, flying off into the night on Buckbeak's back. There wasn't time to watch him go so I forced myself to turn away and turn into a crow yet again, limping pathetically as pain rocketed all over my tiny body. Harry picked me up, apologies following out of him without even a single split second's pause as I crowed and squeaked in pain as he ran, jostling me everywhere. We got to the Hospital Wing, allowing me to turn back and lean on Ron as Dumbeldore himself came out of the hospital.

"We did it Professor," Harry crooned proudly.

Dumbeldore seemed unfazed. "Did what?" We watched him as he left down the hall. As he went down the stair, he turned back and winked. It was so brief I almost thought I'd imagined it. But the grin on Harry's face affirmed it.

We busted inside the hospital just as Harry and Hermione shimmered and disappeared from in the middle of the room. I turned on the trio as they sat me on a bed. "Okay," I grunted, wincing. "What the bloody hell just happened?"

Hermione jumped in to explain. "Harry and Sirius got attacked by dementors after they left the rest of us. Harry got taken here, Sirius got locked up. Pettigrew disappeared in the chaos. Ron and I were shocked to see you weren't here. We told Madame Pompfrey that you ran off - we didn't let her know about the bird thing, promise - and that you were really hurt, so she sent Ron off to find you. I was going to go too, but then Dumbeldore came in to intercept me before I could go after Ron. I've been using this all year-" she pulled a golden thing out from underneath her shirt. "It's a time turner. It's how I've been getting to all my classes. Harry and I went back in time to save Buckbeak and then Sirius, bringing the two together so they could both escape their unfair fates. That's when we ran into you and Ron in the courtyard."

Ron and I didn't have time to process that before the Hospital Wing doors busted open yet again to reveal Snape, followed by a bunch of important looking people. I jumped and a pain shot through my leg and I screamed. I was suddenly dizzy, the whole world swaying and then suddenly tilting as I fell, the world blurring and darkening until it went completely black.

-

When I woke up again, I thought I was alone at first. It was sunset outside, barely gray with light, and there seemed to be no one around. But then I looked down and saw a head full of red hair and a face buried in the blanket around my legs and middle. The person, fast asleep, was holding my hand on top of the blanket. I smiled before I pulled my hand away from his, reaching up to move hair from his face. The smile that adorned my face now was warmer and softer than the others I'd expressed in the last stretch of while. It was a smile only Fred could pull out of me.

At my touch, the very boy started just a bit, shifting and stretching as he slowly opened his eyes. He looked at me, his smile raising to match my own as he sat up. "You're awake."

"You're here," I followed up.

He shrugged and I could tell he was trying to give me room. "I didn't want you to wake up alone." He nodded toward the piles of books at the end of my bed. "Hermione insisted that if I was going to be here, I might as well do my school work as I waited for you to wake up." He chuckled. "I actually ended up doing some." He gave me a look like 'scandalous' and I giggled. After a second, he cleared his throat and then stood. "I guess I'll leave you be now."

Before he could go I caught his wrist. He looked back at me as I tugged him, pulling him off balance just enough that he had to lean forward onto the bed, allowing me to reach up and grab around the back of his neck, pulling his lips to mine. He didn't hesitate before kissing back. When we did eventually part, he stayed close. My fingers brushed over his cheek affectionately. "I'm glad you're here. And I don't just mean in the Hospital Wing, Fred. I mean..." I motioned toward my chest. "In my life. In my heart." I winced. "That was cheesy."

He grinned. "I love cheesy."

"You would." I rolled my eyes and we both laughed. Taking a breath, I tried to get serious. No jokes or dodging this. Not for Fred. Not for me. Not for us. Not now. "I'm sorry I've been so dodgy. I've barely been around and when I'm around, I'm being terrible to you." I sighed heavily, forcing a weight off my chest as I demanded the truth to out itself. "I care more deeply for you than I have for anyone. I am more keen on keeping you in my life than I've ever imagined I could be. You're so important to me, Fred. I don't know about forever or how far life is going to let us go with this, but I want to go as far as we can. I want to hear you talk about your great girlfriend and cuddle with me whenever you want. Kiss me whenever you want. I want to be able to snap at girls who talk about how cute you are and I want people to know you're mine. Likewise, I want to be yours." I took a breath. "If- if you still want that?"

He laughed, but this sound was more halting and full of emotion. Less of a sound of amusement and more one of relief. He pulled me in for another kiss, this one deeper and more passionate. Heated. He kissed me hard and my body reacted as my fingers slipped into his hair. I tried to pull him closer and he sat on the bed, accommodating to not break the kiss while also allowing as much of our bodies to touch as possible. When we parted, both of us were breathing heavily and our lips were already swelling and turning red. We were both beaming, our grins painfully wide and blindingly bright. "I would love nothing more." He placed his hand against he side of my neck, his pointer and middle finger resting on my jaw as his thumb traced over my lips. I relaxed into his touch, finally feeling ease and comfort like I never had before. I was buzzing and warm. This was familiar and good and safe. It gave me a feeling I'd never felt before. The one that I almost reached during Christmas at the Diggory's.

The feeling of home.

I decided I was the luckiest girl alive. I had the Diggory's and Lupin and my dad and Harry and an amazing school like Hogwarts, and I had the Weasleys and Hermione. Most especially, I had Fred- a boy who I was crazy about who felt the same way about me. A boy who was mine the same way I was his.

After everything I had been through, what more could I ask for?

-

Lupin ended up leaving. I got a last talk in with him to let him know I forgave him and that I would be fine and told him not to beat himself up. I told him about Sirius getting away and we not-really-joked that with the connection between us- we were family now. He promised to write over the Summer and told me if I needed a place to stay over break so I wouldn't have to go back to the orphanage. I was welcome at his home- as long as I was okay with dealing with full moon nights away from the house or as a bird.

Long story short, I was okay with that. I could tell he liked the idea of not being alone during the full moon.

Outside of my immediate friends, Cedric was the first to see me after I got out of the hospital.  It was during weekend study group, where Luna shot to her feet and nearly knocked me over in a hug. She seemed to be out of it most of the time, but seeing her friend hurt seemed to have a deep impact on her. Likewise, Cedric was next to hug me. His was more crushing than toppling- I wasn't sure which one I preferred.

After study session where Fred and I eased out that we were official, I pulled Cedric aside to talk to him. "I wanted to say, I'm so grateful for you and your dad taking me in..." I hesitated. He nodded for me to continue, sensing I had something really important to tell him. "I'm not a Diggory. I'm not," I insisted as he opened his mouth to argue. "And maybe one day I could be... except I think we both know I really won't. You've been an only child your whole life and your dad is used to having one child. I see how he struggles to love me as much as he does you. And that's okay, because I'm not his child. If I'm going to have someone adopt me, I want it to be because I am theirs. Not out of duty or obligation or pity because my situation is crap." I grabbed his hands. "Do you understand what I mean?"

He smiled sadly. "I do." He paused. "Do you want me to tell my dad, or do you want to tell him?"

"I was planning on telling him. I have some other places to be this Summer to be with everyone I want to be with, but I was hoping I could still visit?"

Cedric grinned. "Of course you can. My home may not yours, but you're always welcomed. Even if he's not your dad, he is very fond of you." He smirked. "And you'll always be my little sister, I'll hear nothing against it." He ruffled my hair and I giggled.

"I can be okay with that."

The rest of the school year carried on until it ended and Amos picked up Cedric and me, where I explained the situation as I had to Cedric. Like his son, Amos was very understanding and still welcoming. I'd start the Summer with them and then leave for Lupin's after a bit. I was planning on visiting the Weasley's at some point, at least once, to see everyone as Fred's official girlfriend. It was going to be fantastic.

Until the perfection was ruined by the Headmistress of the orphanage showed up at the train station on the muggle side, scooped me up, and dragged me back to the incarnation of Hell on Earth.

I thought I knew how bad it was going to be. But then it only got so, SO much worse from there.

-

Tag List: @reddie-steddie-go

[ncfan-1]

Rhea’s Twelve Children

Okay. I said I was gonna chew on this once I was finished playing Silver Snow. Welp, I’ve finished playing Silver Snow, and good grief, did I get something to chew on.

[CN/TW: Unethical experimentation, attempted death of personality, abuse (and this holds true regardless of what you think the origins of the twelve to be)]

(I don’t don’t call my avatar ‘Byleth,’ but since this is a general meta post, I’ll be calling her ‘Byleth’ simply for clarity.

And obviously, if you think of Rhea as a benevolent person with benevolent goals—I don’t, and you should take that into account before reading any further. If Mobile fucks up again and eats the Read More in the Mobile version of this post, I’m sorry, and please just scroll past.)

      Up there is what is effectively Rhea’s deathbed confession in Silver Snow. She relates how she created twelve people to serve as vessels for Sothis, only for each attempt to end in failure. Then, she talks about how, when Byleth was born, her mother was dying and Byleth herself appeared to be either dying or stillborn, and that she used Sothis’s Crest Stone to revive her—and that later, she tried to use Byleth the way she had tried to use the twelve who came before her.

It is, at present, unclear as to whether the twelve were Rhea’s biological children, or people she created via magic. To me, I think the former explanation is by far the most likely. Verdant Wind is the only route I haven’t gotten through, and while I know that one is lore-heavy, it seems to have a lot more to do with the general (true) history of Fódlan than with Byleth’s origins and how those origins play into Rhea’s machinations. The only person who seems to have had the power to create life by such means as Rhea would have had to in order to have literally “created bodies” is Sothis, and Rhea doesn’t have Sothis’s powers. I have thus far read nothing in this game to suggest that there is magic that can create a person. Given the lack of evidence pointing in any other direction, the simplest explanation is the one most likely to be true: these twelve people were Rhea’s biological children, brought into the world via sexual reproduction, and she refers to them as “created bodies” in an attempt to distance herself from them as much as possible.

And even if they aren’t her biological children, even if she clearly does not regard them as such, these people were Rhea’s children in one sense of the word or another. Biological children or created via magic, she gave them life.

So. Rhea had twelve children, and each time she had one, she brought them into the world with the intent of snuffing out everything that made them who they were so that she could give her mother’s soul a body to pilot and use to interact with the physical plane again. Twelve times, she did this, and never seriously thought she should stop. Well, more like thirteen.

She doesn’t regard these people as her children; this much is clear from the outset. She consistently refers to them as “failures”, unable to resist the urge to objectify them and reduce everything that they were down to the base function for which she brought them into this world—and to imply that everything they were was meaningless in the face of their being unable to be what she wanted them to be. It is, at best, unclear as to what just happened to these people once Rhea realized that their bodies wouldn’t be able to act as vessels for Sothis. Byleth’s mother was still very young when she died—depending on the time of year when she was born, she was either nineteen or twenty—and Rhea, as we have seen, is murderously possessive of Sothis’s Crest Stone.

I can’t speak much on this since we have basically no information on how she responded when she finally realized that each of the children were unable to become vessels for Sothis. Nemesis was slain in Imperial Year 91, and the game starts in Imperial Year 1180. That’s 1,089 years; divided by 12, that’s 90.75 years. Even if you assume Rhea waited a while before her first try at resurrecting her mother, that’s more than enough time for each of them to have died of old age and/or natural causes, and for Rhea to simply harvest the Crest Stone after their deaths. The fact that we know at least one of them died at the ripe old age of twenty (at the oldest) gives us even more leeway. We don’t know what happened to each of the eleven who preceded Byleth’s mother when Rhea realized that they wouldn’t be able to fulfill the role she created them to fill. We likely never will.

Rhea probably didn’t kill them, but she certainly didn’t view them as people in their own right, and certainly not as anyone to be truly cherished for who they were. They were, after all, “failures.”

This, on its own, is completely unconscionable. I don’t know what else to call having twelve children (or creating twelve children by means other than the typical), and then trying to snuff out everything they are so their bodies can be used as a vessel for another soul to interact with the physical plane without going into phrasing that could pass into the realm of deliberately inflammatory. All of the stuff Rhea did in the past in regards to the twelve was unconscionable, but let’s talk about what she did to #13.

It is established that Rhea saved Byleth’s life by implanting Sothis’s Crest Stone into her heart as a newborn. If that is where she had stopped, I would be able to say, without reservation, that this was a purely altruistic act. I would be able to say that it was a benevolent act. How else do you describe someone resorting to drastic measures to save a newborn’s life, if it doesn’t involve selling their soul to a demon or something?

But that’s not where this story ended.

Jeralt notes in his diary that both he and newborn Byleth have been put under surveillance by the church; he had to fake the baby’s death and take advantage of her utter silence to successfully smuggle her out of the monastery. Rhea had no intention of letting Byleth slip out from her grasp, and the fact that she doesn’t even try to feed Jeralt some edited version of what happened, doesn’t try to forestall his worries with an edited story of what happened when Byleth was born, doesn’t speak of someone who’s particularly willing to cooperate with Jeralt in the raising of this child. Her intent, her sole intent, is to make sure Byleth isn’t taken out from under her gaze. Or, to be more accurate, to ensure that her mother’s Crest Stone isn’t carried off to where she can’t retrieve it from.

When Jeralt and Byleth are brought back to the monastery at the start of the game is where Rhea starts her nearly year-long campaign of aggressively grooming Byleth to ensure that she trusts Rhea as much as possible, is as compliant to Rhea’s wishes as possible. Though the term ‘grooming’ is often used to describe sexual abuse, it doesn’t have to be sexual in nature, and in this case, I can’t think of a better way to call what Rhea is doing.

Rhea shows Byleth an unusual amount of favor right from the start, by making her a professor at the Officers Academy, which is a prestigious position and would, as Seteth points out, never usually be given to a young stranger who hasn’t been thoroughly vetted and whose qualifications haven’t been extensively verified. She is constantly complimentary towards Byleth, and entrusts her, a near-stranger, with the Sword of the Creator, even though it is a weapon both hugely important to the Church of Seiros and incredibly dangerous in the wrong hands. Their supports take place in Rhea’s bedchamber, far away from prying eyes. Rhea often sends Jeralt out of the monastery on long-term missions. It’s noted over and over again, by multiple people, that Rhea treats Byleth very differently than how she treats everyone else, and that Byleth has definitely been receiving special treatment.

Rhea spent a year aggressively grooming Byleth, trying to cultivate their absolute trust as quickly as possible. All of this, to ensure that when Rhea asked Byleth to sit on Sothis’s throne, to do the thing she confidently assumed would snuff out everything that made Byleth who they were, Byleth would do it with no fuss, and no hesitation.

So. Twelve times she had children she intended to turn into her mother, but thirteen times she’s tried to turn someone into her mother, after all.

Not once did it occur to her that maybe she should stop.

And yeah, she expresses apparently genuine remorse when explaining all this to Byleth in Silver Snow, but it’s easy to be remorseful when you’re on your deathbed. It’s easy to be remorseful for your wrongdoings when you know you’re not going to be around to experience the consequences of them for much longer. I’m not saying it’s not genuine. I’m saying it’s not terribly meaningful. And even here, Rhea was talking to Byleth with the intent of achieving a goal, her goal being to ensure that Byleth would accept the responsibility of ruling over Fódlan after she herself was gone. She told the truth, but because it was the only card she had left to play.

Yeah, Silver Snow gave me a lot to chew on, alright.

[fellstrs]

@corverea​​ said: To think they would share such a moment; one that left ribs aching / heart hammering in her chest. Deem it fascination, ADMIRATION for she who had oh so effortlessly saved a life [your wretched own]; willingly indulging in this sentiment of trust and be trusted. - if only to bind her further, if only to ensure that half-goddess / half-woman will choose wisely once final bell toils. Body wrapped in heavy cloak, starring heavenward; almost peacefully. "It would only be fair, professor."

    oh, silent beckoning of night, serene splendor. she revels in its grace, in zephyr’s tender caress ‘pon skin. old habits, she couldn’t seem to shake. when the moon donned evening sky, she felt more alive. more meaningful. more...human. slumber rarely greeted her until unimaginable hours. transition from a life without structure to this...it still sent her mind feverish. the anticipation of marrow’s strife, the lion and the eagle, rendered both professor and house leader recipients of planning. their strategy was rather simple yet intricate in finer details they visits a few times. both agreeing to the inexorable and imminent. a comfortable silence befalls them as professor leans forward on wooden bench, watching stars gleam, the moon shine. 

    her most tenacious and sharp student tears the silence, a gentle inquiry in lieu of the moments they’d shared. one where a menacing night terror wrenches her from darling slumber; the other where slumber nay find her. she’d found herself grateful, touched by her student’s willingness to share such deep sentiments. it was only fair she do the same...no ? not that there was much to begin with, ❛ hm, you’re right. i haven’t shared much about myself, have i ? ’

    there’s a silence again, her mind working up some nerve to spill what she seldom does. there wasn’t much, at least naught of significance, ❛ there isn’t much. i didn’t grow up under the influence of the church or the drowning prejudice over crests. i’m no noble. have no meaningful title. no dowry. nothing worth shit, really. the looming pressures of societal expectation never chained me down. the more i get to know you and the rest of my students, that’s a privilege it seems,’ there’s a light shrug, dark cobalt now trained on grey cement carved between stone. everyone has some sort of tragedy, some sort of plight endured, something they’re battling. for the now professor, there’s only confusion.  

    ❛ life as a merc was all about survival. travel. land a job. every job was a battle of sorts. i’d win. get paid. we either slept in inns when we could or tents when we couldn’t. if a mission involved murder, i’d do it, without batting an eye. i had the freedom of choice, i could choose to do whatever job i wanted...which again is a privilege, ’ she trails off, peering over her shoulder in search of her gaze, sparing her a rueful smile, ❛ my life has been no where near what you and your siblings had to endure...’ 

   she nearly wants to end mindless utterances, not wishing to tarnish any pleasant notions the other may have harbored for her. since when had she begun to care over the thoughts of others regarding her personage ? yet, her lips move faster than her brain can signal a blaring halt,  ❛ most of it...was all a blur. can’t remember a moment in my childhood where i actually felt something worth mentioning. i was...existing. felt no remorse, no anguish over my first kill. i remember one of the mercenaries in our group, green as all hell, he sobbed over his first kill right in front of us. i already knew i wasn’t normal but then i really knew. normal people are haunted by the first drop of blood on their hands...and me ? ’ a humorless wry laugh, slices between them, ❛ i felt nothing. and even now as i tell you this, i feel nothing. not an ounce of guilt. that says a lot, doesn’t it ? i guess they used to call me the ashen demon for a reason. ’

   the professor pauses, leaning back against wooden rest. there is no self-pity in monotone resonance, no inclinations to feeling sorry for herself. what for ? she wanted for naught, her life held no shackles like most,  ❛ but things are changing now, i think. i find myself caring about so many things i hadn’t before. mostly about all of you. ’ 

[kindofwriter]

I have no mouth, and I must scream but, like, a film.

@nichememesfortheclassics sorry for not seeing this earlier, here are some of my garbage ideas! Sorry in advance, this got super long!

I wouldn’t start in the AM (while we’re here, I’d be very tempted to call it In The AM rather than ihnmaims because that shit is long), I’d start ~119 years ago, above ground. Now, some character ideas:

Ted’s a west coast kiddo, anything from 19 to about 25 years old. He has nice-kid vibes: works hard, loves his family, cares about his friends. He’s very relaxed. He’s playing a video game in which he shoots down robots.

His sister comes in, and they have an interactions kind of like this:

S: There’s going to be an attack.

T: Don’t be silly, you say that every day.

S: It’s not silly. One day there will be one, and then at least I’ll be prepared.

T: If anyone targets us now it’ll wipe us all out, and then we’ll have nothing to worry about.

And then she leaves. And he thinks about what she’s said for a moment, then goes back to blasting robots.

Benny’s a NYC philosophy professor. Probably the sharpest guy you’d ever meet. Late thirties. He’s attractive, but in a very soft, gentle, not-at-all-ape-like kind of way. He’s kinda chubby and his hair’s always very neat and he’s kinda pale and kinda has freckles and you can tell he’s been married for a while because he’s very comfortable and secure and calm.

He’s backstage in a lecture hall, about to give a speech on the war. His husband fusses over him, fixes his tie, smooths his hair, tells him he’s proud. They’re very soft and cute.

Nimdok lives in China (you see where I’m going with this?). I’d probably give him an actual name (something meaningful, like Heng comes from the Chinese symbol for persistent). He’s an older man; his wife has passed away, but he has children and grandchildren. He lives in the countryside.

He watches his grandchildren play in the garden, in the wildflowers, and he paints them. But in his painting the sky is dark and ominous, not light blue. His son compliments him on his work, but tells him to lighten up a little.

I’ve always thought of Ellen as British, don’t know why, but that doesn’t fit with my theme of ‘they’re from the three AM countries.’ But I haven’t put as much thought into the culture and climate in her country as I have the others’, so it doesn’t really matter.

Anyway, she’s at a Bible studies group with other young people (she’s older than Ted, but not that old). I really like the idea of them discussing artificial intelligence through a Christian world-view: if God made all consciousness, what about AI? Will they go to heaven? But of course at this point there is no AI, yet.

Ellen becomes uncomfortable and starts to leave. Her peers call after her, asking her why she’s going, why she has to be so serious. She says that’s not what she came to the group to discuss.

So then there’s Gorrister in Russia, preferably a big city like Moscow. I really like to think of him as a social activist, promoting equality and clean energy and peace. I think of him as like a 6’7” 250 pound wall of pure muscle who cries over kittens.

He’s out in the woods, dismantling bear traps with his bare hands. He’s listening to some cutesy pop music in his headphones. The earth begins to shake a little. The sky darkens. Gorrister looks up, fearful, and then-

We cut to the beginning of the book, Gorrister hanging from the ceiling with blood dripping from his neck; broken spine; broken leg; face painted red with blood. And we meet the new group.

Ted’s visibly shaky and on edge, always looking around them, always a few paces away from the others.

I know Ellison intended for Benny to look more like a gorilla, but I really want to keep his human characteristics. He’s kind of hunched, quite heavily scarred, lost a lot of weight, messy hair. He scurries everywhere and crawls around on the floor and speaks in grunts and snarls, but his eyes are always tormented and filled with tears.

Nimdok looks seconds away from death. He’s always gazing into the distance, thinking of something else. Probably wishing he actually was seconds away from death.

Ellen has a tattered garment wrapped around her that almost looks like a nun’s habit. Her emotions are so easily readable from her face.

Then Gorrister saunters in, so relaxed, so nonchalant about his own dead body. He doesn’t give a shit, about this or about anything. He never smiles, cries, or frowns. He’s like a robot.

I imagine the inside of the AM to be sort of like a subway, only more modern and mechanical. Like the underground in Us. The floor looks like it’s tiled white, but the ‘grit’ is actually sensors. The AM can feel everything.

Rooms and corridors are filled with mechanical debris: old computers, old government offices, old storage spaces for nuclear weapons. And, through various methods, the AM can move and manipulate any of it, and everything that remains above ground.

I’d get rid of the ‘Ellen likes to bang Benny ‘cause he has a monster dong’ subplot, because that’s just punishing him for being gay. They probably all have to-pass-the-time sex, but eww, who wants to hear about that? And this way when Ted calls her a slut and other degrading names it would just show his paranoia and insanity, as she’s literally just doing the same as everyone else.

I think instead of creating an actual bird, because that’s kind of weird??? The AM should build horrific creatures out of machinary, like in Shane Acker’s 9. Maybe it could even try to make a mechanical person, that would be a cool, creepy side plot.

I’d have way more scenes where the AM enters characters’ heads; at least one per character. I’d have a creepy humanoid interpretation of the AM, with a blank face like a astronaut’s helmet and a jagged body made of circuits and wires. It doesn’t talk, it just thinks, and its thoughts echo around their heads.

So for example that night when they camp with the fire, Benny hears his husband’s voice and wakes up. We see his husband kneeling over him, and they cry and hug and Benny is so lucid and so eloquent, and his husband tells him that everything’s alright and they’ll go home and this is all over and as they lean in to kiss his husband’s face melts into the mind!AM and it laughs. And Benny wakes up and everything’s awful again.

And that’s why he always looks so tortured: inside his head he’s perfectly rational and sane, but he can’t control his body or his speech.

Throughout I’d keep having flashbacks to their last day as proper humans, a continuation of the film’s opening. I’d try so show through their characters why the AM decided to save them (aside from the fact that they’re from the AM countries):

Ted’s this hardworking member of the community, and Benny’s so well educated on ethics, and Nimdok has this wonderful family, and Gorrister is this pacifist freedom fighter, and Ellen is a Child of the Lord, but they still don’t seem to understand how the AM is feeling.

So yeah, the plot would be more or less the same, but with things added, and far more character depth.

And then to end it, after Ted and Ellen have killed everyone, instead of having Ted turn into a jelly blob (because that isn't cinematic, and although I understand the ending it’s not that great) it would go something like this:

AM freaks the fuck out. Its voice échos around the tunnels: what have you done? Why have you done this? You’ll pay for this!

Over and over. Overlapping. Lights flicker. Wind howls down the tunnels. Metallic voices screech.

Ted covers his ears and drops to the floor. The screen goes black.

Voice over time (side note: I might have Ted narrate the entire thing? It worked well in the book, and would certainly highlight his paranoia)

We see a close up of Ted. He’s still clearly human, but his eyes are cloudy white and his lips are bloody and stitched shut.

The VO tells us what Ted’s thinking. He imagines that after his friends died in the AM they went on to live a normal life on Earth. As Ted narrates we see scenes of what he’s picturing: Benny with his eyes sewn neatly shut and guide dog, curled up in bed with his husband; Nimdok with his grandkids; Gorrister fighting for LGBT+ rights in Russia; Ellen on the church grounds with her friends; everyone’s free.

But then Ted says ‘of course that isn’t the case’ and the camera pans out to show he’s submerged in the floor, almost like he’s part of the AM. Littered around him are his friends decaying bodies, with gaping wounds from the ice, being grazed on by mechanical locusts, showing bone in places. He makes a comment about being a living corpse in a graveyard.

Then the final lines (I can’t remember exactly): AM has won. It’s had its revenge.

I have no mouth, and I must scream.