#love that we avoided demonic involvement by just. speaking another language

[achromic-red-dreams-doze-angrily]

[first passover]

demons: hey guys what’s up

jews: ah fuck who invited the demons?

demons: u did lmao

jews: shit. fuck.

[eleventh passover]

jews: ok so we warded our doors and - 

demons: hey we’re back

jews [in aramaic]: son of a BITCH how do you keep getting IN

demons: whoa what the fuck was that

jews: ...oh i see.

fun fact: angels and demons cannot understand aramaic

the beginning of the passover seder, (ha lachma anya) is in aramaic because it includes the invitation “let all who are hungry come and eat, let all who are needy come and celebrate,” and we don’t want the demons to hear that and take us up on the offer, but they don’t understand it if we say it in aramaic

(machzor vitry, simchah ben samuel of vitry, 11th cent., drawing on the talmud at sotah 33a:6 and shabbat 12b2)

[obae-me]

Hiii! May I please request headcanons of the brothers with a MC who has hydrophobia? Thanks sweetie 💖

I wanted to do a little bit of research into it before I even posted it, and I really hope I’m not getting Aquaphobia and Hydrophobia confused. This was something new for me so I’m sorry if it’s not the best. I hope this has enough of what you want, thank you so so much for submitting! 💜

Lucifer

He already knew this about MC, so he’d try to keep them away from large bodies of water as much as he could. Luckily in the Devildom there weren’t many. Not around RAD anyway. He knows about the large lake beside Diavolo’s castle, but there’s not too many times MC would be there.

The time did come eventually. Lucifer and MC had been invited to his castle to talk more about the program. Diavolo had taken them both outside since it seemed much more pleasant than his ‘stuffy castle’. Of course he had taken them both right near that open body of water. 

This would be the first time Lucifer got to see how serious this was. It was one thing to know about and another to see it in action. He was aware of MC right beside him, starting to tremble, their hands fidgeting. Their skin has lost some of its color.

MC had never looked like this in front of him before, not even when any of him or his brothers were in demon form. They had always been too brave for their own good, a trait he had both found annoying yet endearing. He put a supportive hand on their shoulder, and as soon as the conversation was over, he led them away from the lake.

“MC, MC, breathe. You’re right here with me.” 

He covered their shoulders with his coat and stayed with them until MC caught their breath. Lucifer’s eyes narrowed. He’d have to take extra precautions to make sure they never looked like that again.

He’d ask MC to join him in his study when they got home so they could talk about it. He couldn’t make another careless mistake like this again, for their sake. 

Mammon

He is as clueless as always, but he never ever means to hurt MC intentionally. He just thought it would be fun to take them to the RAD swimming pool after hours. After all he had taken a dare earlier that day, and if he got away with it, he’d earn some serious cash. 

He read their body language as “I’m nervous to be here after hours, what if Lucifer find out” instead of “I’m terrified to be by this huge demon-sized pool” so he tries shoving them in for fun.

MC absolutely shrieked. They grabbed onto him with a death grip, shaking like a leaf about to be blown off a tree due to violent winds. So, in shorter words, intensely.

Mammon was stunned for the longest time, trying to come up with all sorts of answers in his head to why they screamed like that? Was it something he did? Did MC see something? Did they not know how to swim or something?

“Hey, hey, human it was just a joke, huh, I didn’t mean nothing by it.”

He held them close and led them outside, leaving his fun plans and money behind to take them home. He won’t soon be forgetting the piercing sound of the scream they made.

Once MC calmed down back in the House of Lamentation, they explained the ins and outs of their phobia to Mammon. Of all the things...he didn’t really think of the possibility that humans could be afraid of water.

“Dummy, why didn't you say that before?! Man now I do feel kinda like a scumbag.” 

Will become very protective now anytime too much water is involved, sticking by MC’s side constantly. Not like he doesn’t already do this already. 

Levi

He first noticed MC acting strange the first time they were in his room, and took strange steps to be as far away from his gigantic fish tank at all times. If they stayed in his room, they would make fervent glances over at it, looking more timid than usual. 

He didn’t think much of it, since MC was new and he knew nothing about normal demons much less normal humans. He noted it as quirky and forgot about it...till he tried taking MC to the beach. Their reaction was much more severe, not even getting anywhere near close to the water’s edge, almost being even to afraid to look at the vastness of it. 

When MC finally confided in him, he couldn’t help but feel as if this was somehow part of his fault. 

“Was it the gigantic sea monster I released?”

“It has nothing to do with you, Levi, I’ve had this fear for a long time.”

Levi loves water, he feels most home at it, he even sleeps in a bathtub for Diavolo’s sake. He’s always secretly waited to share that love with MC. If they’re scared though...he won’t force them. 

He’ll compare this to a scenario in a video game, just like MC has not been coded to swim. There will be some sort of barrier for them around water. This helps him understand this a bit easier. 

If MC is too uncomfortable to be around his fish tank, whenever he feels like it, he’ll bring his whole setup into their room. 

Satan

He made an educated guess that MC had this fear. He may or may not have been able to see some information about them by breaking into Lucifer’s study. Since it wasn’t often that MC came across too much water in the Devildom, he didn’t chalk it up to too big of an issue. 

He did however, reread one of his books containing all sorts of different phobias and fears, so he could at least try to be knowledgeable about it. 

One particular day, MC came home much too late. Apparently, they had made a point to take a much longer route home, just so they wouldn’t have to come across the dark and deep foreboding pond that was settled on one of the paths home.  

He admitted he may have underestimated how much of a problem this actually was.

He’ll give MC all sorts of different routes to take, ones that would do well to avoid any ponds or rivers. It was probably for the best anyway, this was the Devildom after all, and rarely were the waters free of anything that could potentially harm MC.  

He doesn’t really like water either, he’s not afraid of it like MC is, but he’ll stay away when he can. He feels more of a connection to MC because of this and will make sure he has a list of activities they both can enjoy together away on dry land.

If he feels like it’s impeding their life, he’ll try to help them overcome it.

Asmo

He was completely unaware until he got invited to a special After-RAD beach party. With MC as his plus-one, he dragged them out to mingle. 

MC doesn’t bother wearing a swimsuit, for obvious reasons, but he takes that clue in an entirely different direction. “Oh are you going to swim au-natural? So bold~”

He’s very in tune the body so he knows how it looks when it’s pleased, and how it looks when it’s distressed. 

So at the party he notices that MC’s chest is rising and falling much more than normal. Social jitters? He keeps a careful eye on them while he goes to town on the flirting. When he comes back around to MC, he sees more symptoms, the sweaty palms, the fluttering eyes, and their breathing is much more shallow now. 

Once he finds out he doesn’t stop smothering MC with attention. “Why didn’t you tell me dear? It’s okay, we don’t need the beach to have fun, we’ll leave right away, there will plenty of other parties. All the people here are lame anyway.” 

He’ll take MC back home to treat them to a spa night, something much more relaxing than that awful party. He’ll massage their shoulders, telling MC how tense they were after being there. “Poor sweet darling.” 

MC can have a spa day with Asmo whenever they want, it’s so much more fun than parties, if they were the one he was working on at least. 

Don’t worry because MC can be afraid of water all they want, but there are still plenty of ways to get wet~

Beel

He was told much later than he would’ve preferred. Having a phobia like this seemed like something MC would’ve shared with him almost immediately. He only figured it out after they shared it with him after he asked MC to watch him work out.

He wanted to change up his routine a bit, and decided to swim that day in the gym swimming pool. With MC there, he would be able to push himself further under their support. 

However, because he was so immersed in his workout, he didn’t realize MC was in the middle of a panic attack. He looked up from the water just in time to watch MC sprint out of the pool area obviously flustered. He followed them immediately, worried it was something he did. 

When he found them, they were gasping for air, tears streaking down their face. Beel wasted no time embracing them in a hug, petting their head and telling them to breathe in and out, to focus on his voice. 

Once MC could speak, they apologized, briefly explaining their fear to him. Had he known, Beel wouldn’t have even gotten them anywhere near the pool. 

He’ll fully support them, whether anyone says that their phobia is rational or not, it’s still something that terrifies them, and he doesn’t want them to feel like that ever, if he can help it. 

Belphie

He still doesn’t know a lot about MC, since...you know. He doesn’t expect MC to tell him anything either because...well...

Found it out firsthand when he invited MC out to one of his favorite napping spots. A nice little place apart from the Devildom danger. Under a lovely weeping tree right near a wide river. This spot was perfect since the rapids rushing by canceled out the normal sounds of everyday demon life. Except it didn’t drown out MC’s fear.

He had fallen asleep as soon as they got to their destination, meaning that he left MC alone to their panic. They felt alone, ridiculous, and by the time Belphie opened his eyes to check on them, they were already in a ball, shivering. 

The Demon of Sloth had hardly moved so fast to get to their side, giving them his special pillow to squeeze. When MC told him about it in choppy words, he let out a long sigh. He felt dumb. 

“Let’s get you home then, you look exhausted.” Those were the only words he said, but he made up for it in his actions. He never once let go of them on their walk back to the House of Lamentation. He let them sleep in his bed since it was state of the art, he claimed. 

MC never did discover that after they fell asleep, Belphie headed straight to Lucifer to chew him out for not telling him. Lucifer knew practically everything about MC, save for what Diavolo wouldn’t share. After he had said his piece, he went back to his shared bedroom to cuddle with them, making sure they were okay before he fell asleep this time. 

Gee, he hates how MC keeps him restless. 

[elentary]

Black as the devil, pure as an angel

Happy 31st Good Omens anniversary! (i’m late as usual)

A little story about Aziraphale and Crowley popped up in my head and I tried to write it down. 

This is my first story and my first language is not English (so don’t expect a masterpiece out of this): any correction or comment will be appreciated!

(All material related to Good Omens is the property of Neil Gaiman and Terry Pratchett.)

Black as the devil, pure as an angel

London, Monday, 10th May 2021

"Hey, this is Antony Crowley, you know what to do, do it with style"

-biiiiiiip-

"Ah, hello, it's me… ...Aziraphale! Well, ehm, it's been a while since we spoke and I suppose you're still sleeping in this moment because you aren't answering the phone. I just hope you aren't sleeping on the ceiling or on the walls: I'm pretty confident to say that's not comfortable for your backbone and I know for sure you have a perfect soft bed in your room. Also, last time I saw you up there, I almost had a heart-attack and I'd like to avoid it, even if I'm sure I can't die of that since I'm not human, but… ...oh, I wandered off too much with this!

Ehm, I called to inform you that lately the situation here in London seems to have improved and, since some restrictions have been lifted, I thought we could maybe meet again when you'll wake up: my bookshop will be open just for you at every hour! 

 Oh, don't worry if you'll be a bit sleepy: I'll prepare my special qahwah (kahve/caffè) in a jiffy! Well, it's not so special, it's just an old recipe I learnt because… ...oh, not that, it's a secr…. ehm, it's not important at all!

I… I… hope to see you soon, my chuck-… my dear!"

Aziraphale hung up the phone and started fidgeting with his golden ring almost immediately: "I shouldn't have called him: it didn't go how I planned", he muttered to himself. Unsurprising, the phrase "it went down like a lead balloon" popped up immediately in his head.

He had been rehearsing the call for ten days, preparing himself for every possible scenario, but in the end he went completely off-script after a few words, letting his emotions spill too much in his tone. 

But what worried him the most was the moment he let slip the words "old recipe" from his mouth: not for the recipe per se, but because of the little secret behind it. 

"I'm quite sure - he said out loud using a hopeful tone to calm himself - I was able to stop in time, thanks goodness! I’m sure that he won't ask anything even if Crowley notices something, because he'll think there is just a boring story behind it".

While he was heading for the kitchenette to make a cup of tea (there is no problem that couldn't be fixed with a good cuppa), he halted midway and wondered: "Why did I call coffee in that ancient way?"

The reason for that ancient name was very old, pretty much as old as Aziraphale's secret: a little more than four hundred years old.

Venice, 1596

"...and just a cup of qahwah for me" said a guest all clad in black who was slouching on a chair in the most luxurious house of the city. 

The young waiter who was taking the order, looked at him a bit perplexed for the last order. 

"Right, that was Arabic" chuckled Crowley "bring me some kahve or whatever is called here".

"Oh, caffè, here it’s called caffè here, Siór!” [1] , said the young one, ”How much sugar would you like in your cup?” added hasty at the demon's expression.

“I'll have Sade kahve but with a bit of cardamom. Remember to grind finely the beans”.

The waiter was still lost but the other guest at the table helped him with a smile: "He doesn't want any sugar in his caffè, dear" 

“I'll bring everything as soon as possible" said the young man and, after bowing a little, he headed for the counter.

Aziraphale was a bit surprised by what just happened: "It seems you are the meticulous one today: I have almost never seen you so specific with your food or drink order, unless alcohol was involved". He also added: "I just hope you didn't want to mess with the poor waiter".

No, angel, I didn't pull a prank. I have been drinking coffee for a while: but since my last mission in Malta [2] I have been loving it: Altan was the best at making it, but he went to Rome", Crowley said with a sigh.

"The funniest thing - he continued, smiling - is that I was lured to that because I thought it was an alcoholic drink since they called it qahwah, that also means wine. At first I was a bit disappointed but later I discovered it helps to stay awake during boring stuff: it did wonder with every task Hell gives me."

"I tasted some qahwah some times ago but it was too energetic for me… but maybe I should try it to deal with Gabr… ehm, with tedious tasks". Crowley politely didn't mention Aziraphale's little slip but smiled a bit inside.

When the order arrived the angel observed how his partner smelled and tasted happily the concoction humming approvingly: 

"I didn't think you were a coffee connoisseur" Aziraphale joked. 

"It's not so bad for someone with so little experience: you should try it sometimes. If you're done with your food, let's organize our Arrangement. For my report…"

They discussed their work for a couple of hours, drinking coffee. Aziraphale tasted it too (a lot sweeter than the demon) but in the end he still preferred his tea. The angel, however, decided he'd propose another place with coffee, since Crowley enjoyed that drink so much.

Milan, Four years later

"Why can't I have a cup of coffee?" Sulked a very crossed demon who was missing a couple of years of sleep due hellish work. "Lent was over 2 month ago, wasn't it?"

The owner of the shop was distraught: "The priest told us that is not proper now, Sir: the Infidels are using it and - he started whispering - it seems that's a Devil's plant". 

"I'm pretty sure that the Devil wasn't involved in any botanical project, even before Falling, and he has never tried any coffee. Instead, if you are speaking about demons, I am the onl-"

"Why don't we order wine instead this time?" Interrupted quickly Aziraphale before Crowley could say something more compromising. The unhappy demon agreed begrudgingly so several bottles of red wine were shared among them. 

"I'm sorry for your coffee, Crowley. It seems idiotic banning a plant just because somebody else has it".

"Well, they copied the idea from the Boss: God was the first to ban a plant, you and I should remember that easily" Crowley snickered.

Aziraphale started blushing and his cheeks soon were as red as that famous fruit: "ah, it… i-it wasn't just a normal fruit and that was part of God's plan…  I suppose.". That phrase was just commented by the demon with a bemused expression.

"So, Crowley, what are you going to do with this? Are you going to tempt a lot of people to drink coffee?"

"Nah, I'm already too busy with Hell's job at the moment. It would be too troublesome to convince people and especially priests: those at top are the worst."

I'm sure I'll miss the ability of coffee to transform random thoughts into ingenious ideas: humans were experts at using that!" The demon slouched sadly on the chair.

Aziraphale would have missed the improved human genius too but, in his opinion, would have regretted more not seeing his demon's smile but he said nothing. He instead started thinking if there was something he could do and soon became lost in his thoughts.

"...anything there?"

"Sorry, what was that?" 

"I told you I'll go back to Spain tomorrow for a temptation: do you need anything there?" 

"Oh, nothing special, just the usual [3] we can share and those books, if you could be so courteous." Aziraphale happily answered, giving him a neat written list.

"Are you going to stay here long, angel?"

"Oh, no, I'm departing for Rome the day after tomorrow… … I know you don't like it because of the absurd amount of consecrated ground there, you don't need to make a face each time I mention it"

"And every pope makes the problem worse." 

The angel assumed a grim expression: "I have to meet pope Clement VIII for the closing ceremony of the Jubilee"

"You don't seems pleased" 

"The Archangels, especially Sandalphon, think highly of him, but I don't… appreciate him, especially after he burned at the stake messer Giordano Bruno and other poor humans."

Crowley liked discussing the stars and the universe with Giordano: he tried to warn the poor man but he was too stubborn to listen.

"May I reciprocate your favour from Spain? Maybe some wine?" Suggested the angel.

"Only if you're sure the bottles are not blessed - Crowley shuddered - I still remember last time I was wrong".

"Are you sure it will be enough?" 

"I'm sure, angel. Let's party now and forget our troubles for now". 

Unfortunately Aziraphale couldn't party happily because he couldn't forget what happened with the cup of coffee and he thought his favour was too small: he decided he should do something about it! 

Luckily the following morning was more propitious and he found a way to repay Crowly for his favour: he'll find a way to lift the ban on coffee.

The only remaining problem was how to do that.

Rome, a week later

Aziraphale was reading the same line of the missive for the third time in a row at his desk: the angel was too distracted because hadn't found a solution for his "problem" yet. 

"I bet I have the solution under my nose but I can't see it" mumbled the angel touching the pope's sigils on the papers.

"Of course, the pope! - he yelled happily - He is the highest authority for the priests: he could convince everybody that drinking coffee is not bad if he tastes it himself".

"I just need to learn how to make the best coffee ever". A name came back to his mind, the name Crowley gave him: Altan. 

Immediately he used a little miracle to locate him that led him to a small cemetery outside the city and on the grave and there were few sweets with a little cup: unfortunately Altan died 10 years before. The angel bowed a little to pay respect. 

A big Turkish man came next to him and inquired "Did you know my father?".

"I didn't but my... acquaintance considered him a genius and was very fond of his qahwa, ehm, kahve. He'll be sad when he'll know he died." 

"I'm Osmanek. May I ask you what brings you here mister...?

"Oh, I'm Aziraphale. I came here to learn how to make the best coffee ever: I hope his art was inherited by you."

"Luckily it was not lost: I loved to help him make coffee. Before revealing my secrets I have a question for you: are you doing this for your… acquaintance?"

Aziraphale nodded: "I'd like to prepare him some coffee he loves, but at the same time I'd love to see everyone have a coffee whenever they fancy, like in your birthplace. To make that possible, however, I have to let somebody else drink your coffee to.. ..to tempt him saying it's not a bad thing: that person is the pope Clement".

The angel knew what he was asking for and couldn't hold the gaze of the man anymore.

"I understand -he continued sadly- if you don't want to help me since I have seen how much that man has been hurting your brothers and sisters…" The angel couldn't say anything else, overpowered by his memories and bowed his head to hide the tears in his eyes: he has seen too many inconceivable deaths in the name of faith

Osmanek observed Aziraphale for a little moment: he was sure there was no lie in his words. "No, - he smiled - I can't leave you after you poured your heart out: I'll help you and your friend to tempt the Pope." 

"Oh, oh, thank you! - and the angel added hastily - But he's not my friend, we barely know each other!"

The man started smiling brighter than ever and guided him to his house.

Immediately after they arrived, Osmanek offered his guest a cup of his special kahve with few sweets. Aziraphale tried just a sip of coffee and he was immediately in love: "Now I know why Crowley likes it so much: it's so scrumptious even without those sweets!"

"I call this Altan kahve in honour of my father: I will teach you how to prepare it for your fr… aquietance but I ask you to not give any of this to the pope. For him, I'll give you another tasty recipe" 

"Oh, I agree with you: the pope doesn't deserve that perfection!" 

Osmanek patiently taught Aziraphale everything he should know: how to roast and grind the beans, how to use the small pot "cezve", the ratio perfect between coffee and water, how to boil and froth the concoction and  which flavours could be used.

In the beginning everything felt so difficult for Aziraphale and he failed a lot. However the angel was very stubborn and, thanks Osmanek's tips and teaching, he was able to make an excellent cup of coffee in a couple of days.

"I hope this will be good enough" mumbled the angel.

"Trust me, it will be too good for the pope", he chuckled. "Now let's see how good you are with Altan's coffee. I'll give you a final tip: imagine you are preparing some coffee for your acquaintance and not me".

"Why…?"

"If I'm right, it will taste better"

Still perplexed and a bit nervous, Aziraphale went into the kitchen and, following the last advice, he prepared meticulously the dark drink, flavouring with cardamom and finally pouring it in two kahve fincanı, a dark one and a light one. The smell seemed quite promising.

Osmanek took the darkest cup and, after smelling the aroma, he tasted it. After a few seconds, he smiled "In my native Country there is a proverb that says the coffee should be black as hell, strong as death, and sweet as love but for your coffee this doesn't sound right". He put the empty fincanı on the table.

"I think - he continued - the Italian expression suit it better" 

"I'm sorry but I don't know it" the angel was starting to worry he messed up something even if the man was smiling fondly.

"Il caffè deve essere caldo come l'inferno, nero come il diavolo, puro come un angelo e dolce come l'amore.". [4]

The angel took his courage and drank his coffee: in his opinion, it wasn't perfect as Osmanek's but it tasted like something Crowley would enjoy and that was the best feeling ever. 

The angel couldn't stop smiling: "Oh, I am so grateful to you! But I don't know how I can repay you for this"

"Your happiness is enough: I'll bring you everything you need".

Aziraphale didn't agree with him so he performed some miracles and blessings. 

Osmanek came back with some coffee beans, flavours and utensils. There were also three kahve fincanı: two were familiar (the dark and the light ones) but the other was new (and very flashy).

"Oh, that's for the pope: I have always hated that cup and I hope it'll break when that man wants coffee most"

"Oh, that cup will do that, I can assure you" the angel promised with a mischief smile.

Aziraphale finally bid farewell, still thanking Osmanek profusely.

Two months later was the time to put the plan in action: the pope was in the library at 2 a.m. and he was getting tired but he had a lot of work to do. Aziraphale approached him: "I may have the right solution for your Excellency: it's a healthy concoction that promotes wakefulness and wonderful ideas. It was discovered b-"

"I don't care, - interrupted the holy man - give me that drink and let's hope it works".

"God gives me strength" whispered under his breath the angel while preparing some coffee that suited the pope's taste.

When the cup of coffee was ready, it was given to Clement VIII: he grabbed it and started drinking absent-mindedly. The smell and the taste were so good that he woke almost immediately. 

"Librarian, what is this?"

"As I was saying, this is coffee" 

"Why has nobody given me this miraculous drink? The taste is divine and it works perfectly!"

"I suppose nobody wanted to offer your Excellency any drink consumed by Muslims. Some people also believe coffee is a Devil's plant. In my op-"

"I don't care: it's too good to be Satan's plant and we mustn't let the infidels have exclusive use of coffee."

Aziraphale was quite happy: it seemed his plan worked out nicely.

"Maybe we could bless the beans or use some holy wate-"

"NO" shouted the angel, emanating some angelic power unconsciously "Please, DON'T". 

For the first time in his life, the pope was scared he felt like a little child in front of a giant warrior.

"Ehm, please - said more calmly Aziraphale - never suggest it again or let somebody do that. Just tell everyone coffee could be drank by anybody".

The pope could only nod affirmatively.

"Right!" 

Now the angel was sure he was successful in his endeavour and soon could have a coffee with Crowley. 

Aziraphale stayed in Rome for another three weeks, just in time to witness a fincanı to break neatly in two, pouring coffee on some important papal documents.

On his journey to London he stopped to Osmanek's house and updated him on what had happened in that time (especially the broken cup).

London, Monday, 10th May 2021, 30 minutes after Aziraphale's call.

In the end Aziraphale made some of his special coffee with his cezve: he was missing Crowley so much.

"What if i woke him up while he just wanted to sleep a bit more?" 

"No, angel, - a familiar voice answered - I want to stay awake with you for a while"

"Crowley" cheered Aziraphale

"Coffee?"

"In a jiffy" and he poured the drink in two old contrasting kahve fincanı.

"So, what's the secret behind this old recipe?" Crowley asked with a mischievous smile.

----------------------Notes----------------------

[1] Siór = mister (venetian dialect)

[2] Malta = Crowley had been at the great siege of Malta in 1565    https://en.m.wikipedia.org/wiki/Great_Siege_of_Malta

[3] Usual = local goodies (especially wine and alcohol)

[4] "Il caffè deve essere caldo come l'inferno, nero come il diavolo, puro come un angelo e dolce come l'amore" = "coffee must be hot as hell, black as the devil, pure as an angel and sweet as love"

To write this I took some info from wikipedia about the history of coffee: if you want to learn something more accurate than my story, look here and here.

[shanie-the-toyaddict]

"Close Quarters and Fake Steak" from Part 2 of Into the Horizon

A full chapter of Zowens from Part 2 of my story. The only real context you need to know here is that "Mara'Monto" means Deathmatch and "sa Heig'on a Manu" is The Arena of Fighting (the gladiator fighting circuit they've both been forced into fighting for.) Everything else I think you can pick up from within the chapter itself. Oh, and sorry for the alien language. It's a thing. It isn't necessary to know exact translations as it's written to only be understood as much as Kevin does. (Third Person Limited Shifting is a hell of a trip) Anyway, this if for my darling@zayneeac's birthday. Happy birthday, darling. Here's to many many more. Enjoy.

Kevin hadn’t intended to fall in love.

Fighting as a team again hadn’t been nearly as difficult as he’d expected. Far from it, he found it exhilarating. He’d always known that he was meant to fight with Sami forever and even the distant future in the 9th Era or Period of those dinosaur bastards fell under the category of “forever.” The only thing that Kevin never would have predicted was the environment where they’d be spending that forever. He’d pictured a marvelous main event sunset at WrestleMania, not some deathmatch pit in a science fiction nightmare.

And yet, they were surviving. Somehow, against all the odds, they were a team again and God it was just like old times. The way they moved in sync hadn’t changed much from their days as a tag team on Earth, although the fighting style was completely different. They won most of their matches, and the ones that they didn’t win were exhibition fights or Gontzos.

Gontzo. Mara’Gontzo, Mara’Monto, sa Heig’on a la bullshit language. Holy fuck did he hate Gorosian. He was trying to learn it but the notion of indoctrinating himself into the society of his captors wasn’t remotely appealing. When he’d taught himself English, it was on his terms. Having the Gorosian’s pisstastic, apostrophe-laden nonsense shoved down his throat offended him on levels he couldn’t express to them if he were permitted. Mainly because he didn’t speak the fucking language. But he still took the lessons and tried a little (very little) if for no other reason than Sami was fascinated about learning the language and attending the sessions with him meant more time they could spend together.

Although, since becoming a team again, they’d been spending all their time together anyway, so it really didn’t matter. Honestly, as much as he loved Sami, the guy could grate on you, and maybe skipping the classes would give him a moment of relief from Sami’s endless curiosity.

Whatever. He knew he wouldn’t stop going. Sami was the one thing keeping him sane in the Arena. Kevin was miserable as all hell, but every time Sami learned something new, his eyes would light up just enough that it stoked the minuscule remaining flame of Kevin’s soul. He hated himself and what the Arena made him do, but every spark of happiness that Sami felt, Kevin felt too.

And frankly, those sparks were all he lived for anymore.

At least they were doing great in the BattleRing.

When they started their run as a team, all their matches were two on one, which you would think would benefit them, but naturally, the Heig’on just loved to make everything difficult. Rather than one standard Manu opponent, they were pitted against anything from giants to ferocious beasts. Even their training had proved little use when facing down some unholy six-legged blend between a rhinoceros, a lion, and an elephant. They had to adapt quickly, and thankfully they did. Even more thankfully, their stint as strictly beast fighters was mercifully short as, once the crowd got behind them, they started to face off against other tag teams. After that happened, there was no stopping them. True, Kevin was always the one to strike the killing blow, but they made it work. Tag teams were unheard of in the Arena before them, at least, that’s what he figured. The years of developed chemistry between him and Sami meant that they could get in each other’s heads on a level their opponents could never dream of. There were still fights where they had to battle monsters, but even then, once they got the hang of fighting the various demon-beasts from across the galaxy, they had no trouble winning.

They were a nearly unstoppable team and with their new winnings, came new privileges. So many privileges. They were called Man’Yokulae in Gorosian and they usually involved some level of comfort or entertainment. But the best privilege of all was that they finally had names. Well, sort of. They weren’t their real names, but whatever powers of the universe threw them into that pit had a sense of humor because their designations in Gorosian both ended in something similar to their real names. 59 translated to Kae’do, and 63 was Zev’ii. It was close enough to KO and Sami that he could deal with them, and he’d requested their names as Kaydo and Zehvee. The names were granted, and finally they were able to use actual pronouns for a change.

Although, Sami wasn’t nearly as fond of calling Kevin “Kaydo” as he was being called “Zehvee” and usually just called Kevin “Kae”. Kevin didn’t care, as long as they didn’t have to speak French. Sooner or later their habit of speaking en français would come back to bite them, so any time they didn’t have to use their native tongue was beneficial.

There were other privileges as well, but being a proper noun was by far the best. He wouldn’t say they were well off though, but whomever their mysterious benefactor was had made them comfortable. They had their own room now, cramped but private. Perhaps a bit too much of both, as Kevin could no longer escape Sami when he was sick of him. And that meant that when he wanted peace and quiet, there was usually none to be found. Far from it, Kevin was slowly being driven insane by Sami’s ceaseless questions.

One day, while resting after a mid-day Gontzo fight, Sami was laying on their bed (because of course, the assholes had only given them one bed) and staring at the ceiling. Kevin was quietly attempting to read an ebook he’d been given to pass the time. The tablet was programmed with a translator, but it was a bit like trying to read a foreign novel filtered through Google Translate. Still, he managed well enough and it helped stave off the boredom. It was a story about some noble rebels standing in defiance against the corrupt Government. It was poorly written and reeked of propaganda, but it was better than making small talk with Sami.

And yet, Sami kept trying

Sami was laying on their bed, playing a small handheld block game that he’d earned. It somewhat reminded Kevin of those old, grey-brick Game Boys, if the Game Boy only played the originally included Tetris game. Sami usually played his game with the sound off, and the room was blissfully quiet, when Sami just had to go and ruin it with yet another question.

“How do the time scoops work?” he chirped from his spot on the bed.

“How do what?” Kevin asked.

Sami popped up from the bed to sit on the edge, putting the game down.

“The time scoops. Those machines that brought us here. That’s what they call them, right? How do they work? All the different aliens around here. Do they have different scoops for different aliens? I can’t imagine a Gorosian fitting comfortably in the pods we arrived in. I know you said they only work one way, but why? Why can’t you go back in them? What’s the hang-up?”

“Just accept that you can’t,” Kevin replied, trying to brush him off.

Sami shook his head, gesturing with his hands as he spoke. “No, it’s just, you’d think time travel would work in both directions. If you can use the devices to pull something into the future, why can’t you use it to shove something into the past?”

“They’re called scoops,” Kevin replied gruffly, “you don’t scoop something backward. Scooping is for removal. From what I understand, without a pod at the other end, you can’t go backward.”

Sami looked sad at the response, dropping his hands into his lap.

“Besides,” Kevin added, “I told you what happened to Earth. The world was already a dumpster fire when we left, and it never got any better. If you went back, you’d just be caught in the same apocalyptic hell as everyone else. All those people, back there on Earth? They’re dead. All of them. Humanity burned, Zehvee. This place is shit but at least we’re alive.”

Sami stared at the floor and his voice was quiet as he replied, “I’d rather have died on earth with them. I hate this place. I hate hurting people just to survive. The arena sucks.”

“Yeah, yeah it does.”

There was a pause before Sami’s voice picked up once more.

“But how do the crowds work?” he asked. “They aren’t actually in the compound; how do we see and hear them like they’re live? What kind of technology does that involve?”

Kevin groaned and threw up his hands in frustration. At that rate, Sami’s questions were going to end him long before some Heig’on fighter did.

But Kevin had nowhere to go; he couldn’t escape. Regardless of how pissed he got, they were together almost constantly. In the events of their inevitable arguments, the close quarters and lack of alternative entertainment forced them to reconcile quickly. It led to far fewer arguments, knowing that they couldn’t escape each other, although if Kevin was being honest, it wasn’t because he wasn’t frustrated, just that he had to watch Sami be in pain over their disagreements, something he’d always managed to avoid when they were rivals in the WWE.

And, somewhere along the way, something changed.

If Kevin had to pick a day or moment, it was after something that happened in the mealhall one day. They weren’t scheduled for a fight that day, so they just trained for several hours before spending some time in their quarters. When it was time for dinner, they were escorted to the mealhall. Sami was excited, he’d done well in an exhibition fight the previous day, knocking out both opponents himself. Of course, Kevin had let him do so, exhibition fights were becoming less frequent for them and Sami shone best when the fight didn’t involve murder, so Kevin had feigned injury to drive Sami to perform harder. He’d stepped up to the challenge and was told he’d be receiving a treat the following day at mealtime.

Kevin laughed. “It’s probably just a different flavor of grey pudding, or maybe a different color. Hey, maybe you’ll get orange pudding, to match your hair!”

Sami just glared at him and said nothing, and when they headed for the mealhall, Sami was excited for whatever he had earned.

He grew even more excited when they turned into the meal hall and Sami saw his favorite Orbaka helper working the food table again.

She, at least Kevin was pretty sure the alien was female, was designated Orbaka-10014. She was of a species that Kevin learned was called “Jakkan” and she was quite attractive, all things considered. She had pale, pearly skin with eyes that, while resembling somewhat human eyes, were a touch too large. Her lips were a royal purple shade, and she had a nose-shaped feature between her eyes and mouth that even Kevin admitted was cute, although there were three “nostrils” rather than two. However, her most prominent feature was how she didn’t have hair. Instead, traveling down the back of her head, neck, and back were two thin black tendrils, about three inches apiece, with small spherical ends on them. Overall, she resembled something out of Star Wars and the rest of her kind had very similar appearances. Jakkans in general, Kevin had decided were probably the most visually appealing aliens he’d seen since arriving in Hell, and if he had to pick the best of them, it’d probably be her.

But Sami… if Kevin had to guess, Sami had a crush on her. He kept trying to flirt with her, something that always seemed impossible due to communication issues. Kevin had learned long ago that everyone they encountered had universal translators, but they didn’t work the same with every species, and whatever algorithm was used to translate English to Jakka was spotty at best. Also, despite his efforts, she never seemed to enjoy seeing him. She always smiled, but it was never a friendly smile, and Kevin was beginning to wonder if smiling meant the same thing on the Jakkan planet. It still didn’t stop Sami from trying, and as he grabbed his tray and headed for the food table, he was looking quite happy.

“Hi, again,” he said cheerfully to the Orbaka, a wide smile on his face. “You look nice today.”

10014 squinted her eyes.

“Friendly?” she asked, not understanding his comment.

Sami raised his eyebrows, nodding. “Well, I’m trying to be, anyway. How have you been?”

“Beans?”

“No, I mean your day. How has your day been going so far?”

“Distance? I have never left Heig’on compound in three revolutions.”

Kevin couldn’t help but be amused as Sami shook his head. He wondered if he should suggest Gorosian as an alternative, but to him, watching Sami struggle with flirting was too priceless to disrupt, so he said nothing.

Sami tried again. “No I mean, how have you been feeling?”

That, she seemed to grasp a bit more and she replied “I understand. I am… alive. Not dead yet, which is preferred.”

Sami smiled again. “Good to hear. So, what’s my surprise?”

Kevin watched as she smiled again, that same miserable version she always used with Sami.

“Trophy?” she returned. “You have won no trophy.”

“No,” Sami replied, “My surprise. My gift. I was told I’d earned something.”

Her smile fell flat and was replaced by confusion once more. As she stood there, trying to understand his meaning, a guard behind her made a loud grunting noise.

They were holding up the process too much.

10014 huffed a bit, her three nostrils puffing out as she scooped the (still) grey pudding into Sami’s bowl.

“Urn?” she told him, “Those perished in Heig’on do not in urns. Incinerated only.”

Sami sighed and dropped his tray against the table in frustration. Kevin, deciding to step in, put a hand on his friend’s shoulder.

“His privilege,” he spoke up.

Still no sign of understanding.

Kevin thought for a moment before deciding to give in and try the other approach. It would probably ruin his fun in the long run, but Sami deserved whatever gift was coming to him and he wasn’t about to let him go without. Wracking his brain to pull out the little bit of Gorosian he’d absorbed, he tried to parse together a sentence.

“Rio Man’Yokulae do Tor’ooq’toan,“ he said. He was certain he was messing it up, and his belief was confirmed when he saw Sami look away, his hand over his mouth to suppress the laughter.

Still, it seemed to get the job done and 10014’s eyes widened, and she made a sound of understanding, an oddly joyful scowl crossing her face.

“Yes!” she said enthusiastically, “Earned reward!”

She stuck her spoon into the pot of foodstuff and headed into the back room.

“See,” Kevin told Sami, “You just need to know how to talk to them.”

Sami was still choking on suppressed laughter.

Kevin shook his head.

Fine. I’ll bite.

“All right, Mr. Quad-Lingual, how bad did I do?” he asked, although he really didn’t want to know.

Taking a deep breath to compose himself, Sami replied with a grin. “Well, you called me a trans woman and referred to yesterday as ‘the before time’ but at least you got your point across.”

“Jesus. I hate it here.”

Before Sami could respond, the Orbaka returned with a small plastic cup with dark liquid in it.

“SolTerra bean beverage,” Orbaka-10014 chirped, holding the cup out to Sami.

Sami looked confused for a moment before realization dawned on him. It was his turn to go wide-eyed as he exclaimed, “Wait, coffee? There’s coffee here?!”

The Orbaka moved the cup a bit closer to Sami who gladly accepted it, not even putting it on his tray. He looked down at it, before commenting, “Black, hm? I guess I don’t get any kind of soy or sweetener.”

The Jakkan just stood there looking perplexed, replying, “Added sweet? Coffee not meant as sweet. Bads flavor.”

Sami shrugged and gave a warm smile to the alien woman, saying, “Still, it’s nice to have.”

He paused before adding in Gorosian, “Hintoq’ho Gyntviana Roa”

The Orbaka’s eyes lit up and her cheeks flushed a shade of violet.

The guard behind them grunted again, this time louder and angrier.

The Orbaka’s shock disappeared, followed by a quick “Yo’Vaa’Dan” as she served Kevin his food. More of the same as usual. God, he hated the grey pudding. But, with the guard getting angry, Kevin knew they needed to be moving along and he gently nudged Sami’s foot with his own.

“Right,” Sami said, moving and, taking their trays they both headed for their assigned seats. Midway there, Sami took a sip of his coffee. Immediately, he stopped in his tracks, so abruptly that Kevin nearly plowed into him.

“Shit,” Kevin swore. He took a moment to readjust his food on the tray and moved to stand beside Sami, looking for what the hold up was. Sami was standing there, staring at the cup of coffee with the most disgusted look on his face as though he was about to retch on Kevin’s boot.

Kevin couldn’t help but smile. “Not good?” he asked.

Sami’s face un-contorted, transforming into a look of determination and he held out his tray to Kevin.

“Kae,” he remarked, “would you mind taking my tray with you to our table. I need to… um… go water that plant over there…”

Sami motioned towards a potted, tree-like plant in the corner that was standing unattended. Kevin fought valiantly to suppress the snorted laughter that was trying to erupt from him, instead silently taking his tray across his forearm and doing the same with Sami’s on the opposite side. With both trays balanced, he silently headed for his table, making sure to keep an eye on what Sami was doing. He sat down, trying to be discrete, and as he sat there he watched Sami casually make his way over to the plant. After checking to make sure nobody was watching, Sami turned his back to the plant and, without even looking at it, dumped the cup of coffee behind him into the dirt. After the cup was empty, he returned to where Kevin was and sat down across from him.

Kevin was unable to hold back the laughter anymore, nearly choking on his efforts to do so (as well as that damn pudding).

He swallowed his mouthful and asked, “That bad, huh?”

Picking up his spoon and digging into his bowl of slop, Sami just shrugged. “I guess I should have known better. I can’t imagine them having coffee plantations here.”

“No, probably not,” Kevin agreed. “Hey, out of curiosity, what did you say that made her blush like that?”

Swallowing a spoonful, his friend replied, “Oh not much. I said thank you.”

“Uh-huh. And? I knew that much, what was the second part?”

The redhead turned sheepish. “I might have called her beautiful as well.”

Kevin rolled his eyes. “God you’re hopeless.”

They both got quiet after that, focusing on their meals, until, after about five minutes, KO happened to glance back up at the plant Sami had “watered”.

It was starting to wilt.

Kevin had to suppress another laugh, an action that he wasn’t getting any better with over time. Sami heard him and, following his line of sight, also noticed the plant in distress.

“Ah hell,” his friend muttered, before grabbing the cup of water off Kevin’s tray, standing, and leaving.

“Hey!” Kevin cried out as he took the cup away, “Dammit Zehvee!”

Sami wasn’t listening, nor was he trying to be inconspicuous this time. He strode over to the plant and, bending over, distributed the water around the soil in the pot.

Naturally, a guard noticed, and Kevin let out a worried sigh as the guard headed over to where Sami was. He strained his ears to hear the conversation, but they were a bit too far away. He just turned his eyes down toward the table, an almost instinctive action in the face of possible trouble, and waiting until Sami returned to his seat. When he did, his friend let out a satisfied hum.

Kevin was a bit surprised at that and, his eyes still on his food, asked in a hushed, low tone, “You get bitched at?”

“Nah,” Sami said, totally undisturbed as he returned the empty water cup to Kevin’s tray, “he just told me that there’s Orbaka that tend to the plants and that I shouldn’t bother with them. I’m fine. Thanks for the water, though. It’s looking better already.”

Kevin looked up at Sami. His smile was so warm and infectious, and as he looked behind his friend, he realized Sami was right. The tree did look better.

Sami was still smiling. The misery and steel-walled prison they were in, forced to fight for the amusement of slavemasters and bloodthirsty sadists, and Sami was concerned with a damn plant. He couldn’t help but return the smile and as he sat there, basking in the glow that his friend always seemed to have around him, the walls of his heart began to crumble, broken down by cinnamon curls and hazel eyes.

After that, it was only a matter of time before Kevin loved him completely. TBC

[omgitscharlie]

New ask game: HTLB

Thanks for asking, nonnie!

The first scene that ever pushed me to write HTLB is the opening scene! I just really wanted to set the stage for everything that happens moving forward and show how Kagome’s life is so public right off the bat.

"Hey friends, this video is going to be a little different."

This was the fourth time she'd said those words; at least this time it wasn't in between sobs and only spoken through the attempt to keep them at bay. No makeup was on her face, as she didn't see the point if she was just going to ruin it with her tears. Dressed in a burgundy turtleneck, hair up in a messy top knot, she pulled her sleeves over her hands with a sniffle.

"Some of you have been asking how Kouga and I are doing...and-" There it was, a choked sob as she closed her eyes, letting yet another tear fall from them. Swallowing back as much as she could, Kagome gathered enough strength to say the next words with a bit more coherence and confidence, "And I am here to let you know that we have, in fact...broken up."

A part of her felt stupid, sitting alone in a room while talking to no one but a camera in front of her. Lifting her sleeve-covered hand, she wiped that stray tear from her cheek with another wet sniffled, "I-I want you all to know that it was a mutual decision-" A lie. A big, fat lie; but, the two of them had decided it was best to say that to keep both reputations intact and fan bases from causing some sort of scene. The last thing either of them wanted was for there to be more drama than necessary - one of the only things Kagome agreed with, "And that Kouga and I intend to stay friends-"

Another lie. Kagome didn't know if she would ever be able to be friends with Kouga after what he did - after what he said. A three-year relationship that ended in a way that Kagome had never expected, with her then-boyfriend confessing that he'd never intended to marry her. That their time had come to go separate ways.

"I can't marry a human."

The words repeated over and over again in her head, echoing through her broken heart loud enough to leave a crack that spread wider and wider each time she thought of it. It was because of their yōkai/ human relationship that had so many people interested in their life. They had come from completely different worlds and faced countless instances of prejudice, just to stay true to one another.

But it had all been a game to Kouga, even though he promised that it wasn't; that he truly did love her and, should she have been yōkai, he would have married her much earlier.

"I don't want anyone sending hate or negative comments his way-" So typical of her, taking the high road to the point where she was practically trampled over by those who chose to abuse that, "And I would ask that you respect our privacy during this time; this wasn't easy for either of us, but it's for the best."

Every other word or so, she would have to draw in a shaky breath, releasing it with the attempt to keep tears at bay but failing miserably, "I'm probably going to take a bit of a break from everything, so if you don't see any posts from me, that's why." Again, she lifted her hand and wiped away some tears from her eyes, only to be replaced with fresh ones.

"Uhm, I don't know how to end this," a melancholy chuckle left her, easily taken over by a choked sob followed by a sniffle "I guess...thank you for watching and I'll see you next time."

The second one that kept me going for a long while was the ultimate blow up in chapter ten, where Kagome finds out that Inuyasha’s a half-demon and confronts him about. You can really tell with how much detail I put in the body language of this portion. It was so vivid in my brain for so long and to see it in writing was SO rewarding. 

“There’s a big fuckin’ difference between being friends with a hanyou and being in a relationship with one!” he shouted, trying to get her to understand his point of view; yes, friendship was one thing, but to be romantically involved with a half-demon was a whole other realm of stigma altogether.

“ Enlighten me then!” her arms settled back into a crossed position as her hip pushed out in an expectant stance. Yet, she still managed to move one of her hands to her face to quickly wipe away any evidence that she’d shed any tears before following it with a small sniffle.

He was positive she was more than aware of the differences; but if she wanted to be enlightened, he wasn’t about to take that from her, “Being with me means that people will whisper and question your character - who you are! Means fuckin’-” he started to stammer as he turned himself, hands moving to gesture and emphasize the words he said, “People will judge you and shame you for it, Kagome! Alright?! People don’t like the thought of half-demons reproducing, building families, havin’ fuckin’ lives! ”

“Do you really think that low of me?! Do you really not trust me?” Kagome was leaning her body towards his again, uncrossing her arms to emphasize certain words by clapping her hands together in front of her, “After six months of trying so hard to earn it and showing you at every turn that you could , you still don’t?!” She opened her arms wide at her sides, as if telling him she’d given what she could - that what he saw in front of him was what he needed to take. It needed to be good enough , “What more do I have to do to make you realize that you can trust me!? To realize I wouldn’t care - that I don’t care!” One of her arms remained out to the side, but the other came to the center of her chest, patting it for emphasis.

In all honesty, Kagome had been the first person he truly trusted since his mother died; though, perhaps that wasn’t saying much, their argument demonstrated that fact. Regardless, he’d found solace in Kagome, a sense of calm and ease that he’d never gained with anyone else in his life. He was afraid of losing that and, in his attempt to avoid that, it became clear that he could lose her anyway.

Inuyasha remained quiet, watching Kagome practically panting from the amount of air she’d just used to make her points clear. Silence fell between them, their stares intense on one another as they waited for the other to speak.

As always, it was Kagome who broke the silence.

“I just don’t understand why you think I would care that you were hanyou?! I want to know things about you, Inuyasha! I want to know how you grew up, what it was like!” Kagome’s resolve was wearing thin, more tears lodged in her throat and causing her voice to crack as she continued, “I wanna know what brought you to the person you are now! I’ve told you so much about me! My life, my family! I’ve been vulnerable with you, because I trusted you! Now I feel like I don’t even know who you are!”

“You wanna know, Kagome? You really wanna fuckin’ know?!” A deep, spiteful wound in his chest had reopened, weeping with his inability to reel in the pure rage that swallowed his heart.

“Yes!” It was a scream - a pleading scream that was followed by a choked sob, “That’s all I want!” Tears flowed freely then, hiccuping as her arms were held out in front of her, elbow bent and palms facing up as if begging him to fill them with something .

“You wanna know how my own dad kept me and my mom in the shadows because his wife wanted to kill me? How I was kept like a fuckin’ skeleton in a closet?! How me and my mother jumped from hotel room to hotel room until she could finally get a job on her own? You wanna know why she couldn’t get a job before?” Each word was venomous, as if trying to make Kagome experience the same viciousness of the world as he had.

Kagome stood frozen, eyes wet with tears as her heart began to ache at the realization that he’d endured so much and at such a young age, “Inuy-”

“ No! You wanted to know, so I’m fuckin’ telling you! That’s what you wanted, right?!” A mocking twinge hung in his tone as he leaned forward, head tilted in expectation as his pupils shrunk to slits and his lip curled upward, “You wanted to know that my mom couldn’t get a job because she had a bastard kid, a bastard hanyou kid! She struggled every fuckin’ day of her life because of me, all because of what I was! What I am! ” He brought his hand to his chest, hitting against it with a loud, hollow ‘thud’.

Tears fell freely now, clutching both hands to her chest then as she continued to listen. Each word, each phrase, it broke her heart knowing he had to experience such prejudice. There had been a time where she thought herself being discriminated against for being with Koga - but it was nothing compared to what Inuyasha was telling her, “Inuyasha, I’m so -”

“And you wanna know what else?! Why not just keep fuckin’ goin’?! ‘Cause I got so much more! How about the countless times I’ve been kicked out of someone's house when they find out what I am? My last ex wouldn’t fuckin’ touch me unless it was a human night! That’s what I was doin’ last night, Kagome! Are you happy? Are fuckin’ happy?!” The last expletive was violently emphasized by grabbing a rogue mug left on her kitchen island and whipped across the room, hitting the opposite wall and shattering while leaving a hole in the drywall.

To be honest, I get a scene like this almost every chapter and I just write around it hahah.

ASK ABOUT THAT SCENE MEME

[seventhfracture]

q. 3, 16-19, 26, 28, 32, 34-36, 38, 40, 44, 51, 53, 58, 66, 73, 85, 96, 97, 100 please? (feel free to not answer, I'm aware these are way too many questions but consider! I had to choose from 100 when I just wanted to ask `em all- again no pressure to answer all of these)

TUMBLR FUCKED UP THE NUMBERS FORGIVE ME

1. Do you really think there is somebody for everybody? That presumes everyone wants someone. Which I don’t think is true. If you do want someone… well there at what? 9 billion people? Statistically your odds of finding someone are pretty good. But if you want something you can’t just want it. You have to take steps to make it happen. And that might mean compromise or action.

2. Do theoretical ethical debates have any value? Is it important people discuss ethical dilemmas, e.g. the trolley problem? I think a lot of pressing social issues started as a “theoretical ethical debate” in one circle or another. “Should we free the slaves?” was definitely a thought experiment before it was a reality. If we go real obtuse like “What if reality is a simulation, does that change anything?” etc. Shit we can’t really know. Then I still think there’s interesting stuff to pull. And philosophy has contributed a lot to different parts of society. Thinking is good.

3. Did you have imaginary friends? Do you still have them? Lol I think lots of people keep their imaginary friends in some way or another. “God” or “my roleplay blog” or “my online persona” or “my sexually dominating side” or “my OCs in my WIP” etc. etc. Whatever you call them I think its kind of natural?

4. Are you religious? Do you think your religion is ‘correct’? I was raised a polytheist. I’m a form of Pagan in practice. I believe there are lots of gods. I don’t really bother with asking if another religion is “real” or not. If someone believes something, then that’s fine. But I think you should be prepared to argue your point. People use religious belief to justify stances all the time. So you should be prepared to argue why your religion is good or right if you’re going to use “well my faith says…” as your justification.

5. If you aren’t religious, do you wish you were? Why? Religion is interesting, I could talk about it for ages, but I’m glad I’m not more religious. I think if I couldn’t take science into account when asking certain “should we/shouldn’t we?” questions that’d suck.

6. What’s the most life-changing choice you’ve made so far? Probably to transition. I transitioned after high school. Which in some ways was a blessing but I got doctors, I changed all my documentation, I picked a new name, I had to come out to all my family, my work… It made me very happy but it was huge.

7. Would you want to live forever? How about for a billion years, a million, a millennium, a century? I believe in reincarnation but I think it’s natural to be scared of death. Frankly if I could avoid the gamble I’d rather live. Even if I’m just a brain in a jar. If I can be here that’s better than being nothing.

8. Was your childhood happy? Uhhhhh….?? Um…. Well—Uh—Next question.

9. What are you missing from your life? A way to make money doing things I’m passionate about. I’m still figuring that out.

10. Have you ever met someone who had a very similar personality to your own? Did you get along? I knew someone who was very like me when I was a very different person. They were trash, I was trash, and I’m glad that 1) I changed and 2) we don’t speak anymore. I was a fucking psycho.

11. Is your life what you expected it would be five years ago? Totally different in some ways. Exactly as planned in others. I’m happy, so who cares? I made the best decisions I could with what I had at the time.

12. What makes a person ‘good’? Are you a ‘good person’? “Good” people do good things. Even if they think awful things. “I fed the poor, but I only did it to fatten my ego!” The poor don’t fucking care. They got fed. Likewise a person who has good thoughts but doesn’t act on them (aka “well I think gay folk aren’t hurting anyone, but God/my church say they’re against the bible so I guess—”) are bad people.

13. How often do you lie? Is all lying inherently bad? Are you generally truthful? I lie a lot. I think you should. I think we should stop demonizing lying. Most people don’t care about your details. They just need the gist to get the job done. And if it doesn’t involve someone, they don’t deserve to know anything. It would be truthful to tell your landlord you got a promotion, but they’re not entitled to that information. You should be as honest as you feel comfortable being. Even if that’s not very honest at all. And, yes, there are consequences. You have to deal with those.

14. What question could you ask to find out the most about a person? One question? Oh man that’s hard… probably “who do you love most?” Because do they answer themselves? Their partner? Their parents? There’s info in all the options.

15. Which beliefs do you have that is most likely to be wrong? “Eat the Rich, literally” will not actually solve anything. But I think cannibalistic revolution has been overlooked too long as a viable option.

16. Are we eventually going to ‘run out’ of new combinations for music, art, language, etc.? Is there a limit to human creativity? Never. I mean you could argue we already have. Isn’t everything just an old story repackaged? Or an old song dressed up? I think the ‘when’ and ‘where’ something is released is as powerful as ‘what’ it is.

17. How do you feel about the idea ‘an eye for an eye’?| My dear friend has a policy “do no harm, take no shit.” And I abide by that. I think you should care about people, I think all life is improved when we improve the rights/conditions of others, but if you start shit I’m going to end it.

18. Would you fight for your country? Do you feel a sense of loyalty to your nation? My country? Eeeeeh my country is flawed. My rights? My way of life? My home? Yeah, sure. It’s not about the flag.

19. Do you think you would be happier if you had been born a different gender, sexuality, race, ethnicity, nationality or religion? I think I got pretty damn lucky. My life would be MUCH harder if even one of those factors was altered. Yeah, I’m trans but it could be waaaay worse.

20. Is your perception of yourself similar or the same to how others perceive you? People are usually a lot nicer about me than I am to myself. I like that. Generally, I like myself too but it’s not always easy. More than once my relationship with my body or mind has been purely antagonistic.

21. Are you overly analytical? I guess? I have too many opinions lol. Things would be simpler if I cared less.

22. What belief do you have that isn’t logically grounded, but you still firmly believe in? I’m a Pagan. And I hate the “these essential oils cure cancer!” stuff but I definitely believe you can curse someone. And I get that’s a little crazy lol.

[kyouxa]

Diabolik lovers Chaos Lineage: Kino (Story 15)

@otomehonyaku​ and I decided to join forces to translate Kino’s CL route together! ☆*:.｡.o(≧▽≦)o.｡.:*☆ She’ll be translating the main route (which I’ll be linking to in my masterpost), and I’ll translate the endings. Please no reposting onto other sites, ask both of us before translating this into another language too!

Monologue

Led by Kino-kun, we were finally able to reach the church.

With momentum we hurried inside and shut the door while we all tried to catch our breath again.

Place: Church — Inside

Shu: Of all places, why did you choose to come here?

Kino: They probably won’t think we came to the church Eve was originally sleeping in.

Yet I don’t know how much time we can earn with that though.

Yui: (Since the day I first woke up here, this is my second visit to the church)

(From here on, everything started. My encounter with Kino-kun etc…)

Subaru: It’s a good idea to hide, but it doesn’t make sense if there is no way to escape from here afterwards.

They might end up finding us here someday.

Yui: You’re right. We have to figure something out about this…

???: You have finally arrived here, Eve.

Yui: Eh!?

Kanato: Say, that voice just now…

Yui: Karlheinz-sama… !

Reiji: Father… why…

Kino: Karlheinz… that’s… my father…

Ayato: So all the shit that happened to us here was our father’s work after all!

Karlheinz: It was indeed me who created this miniature garden. There is no point in wondering about this matter any longer.

Apparently the outcoming of the current situation was rather an interesting one.

I wanted to be here directly, so I did not hesitate to come here instantly.

Subaru: You call that interesting… ? Don’t screw around saying bullshit!

Yui: (I was already thinking of that. The identity of the mastermind behind all of this, the fact that he appeared here now一)

(Is Karlheinz-sama seriously the one who was confining all of us in this weird place?)

*Kino gets closer*

Kino: ...Father.

Yui: Ngh! Kino-kun!?

Subaru: Hey, don’t get that close. Who knows what he might do next!?

Karlheinz: ...You are…

Kino: I’m… Kino, father. I’m the zeroth son you have.

Do you remember? In the demon world’s hinterland… you abandoned me back then in Rotigenberg.

Laito: The demon world’s hinterland… ?

Ayato: You fucking old geezer, you left your own kid behind in such a place!?

Karlheinz: …..

Kino: Father! I’ve come this far already, I’m more worthy to own the throne than my brothers or the other guys!

Magical powers and wisdom, they are inferior. These guys would get your power even if they only behaved like spoiled children.

That’s why, I一 I want to be the successor of your powers…

Yui: (Kino-kun…)

Karlheinz: ...You, who are you?

Yui: Eh… ?

Kino: Ngh…

Karlheinz: I only have six sons. I do not remember having a son like you.

Yui: ...Nn!

(T-That’s… is he saying this because Kino-kun was always just thinking of getting Karlheinz-sama’s powers一)

(No. I want Karlheinz-sama to acknowledge him regardless, we came this far together after all… but…)

Kino: What… right now, are you confused or something?

You were the one who abandoned me! We went to the hinterland of the demon world together, and you just left me there on my own!

And now you can’t just casually appear at such a place without any meaning behind it!!

Karlheinz: I see. Then you might have seen this in a vision.

Kino: Seriously… you’re denying all of it? ...My entire existence… ?

Subaru: Hey, no matter what that old man says, we have to…!

Reiji: Do not leave, stay here.

Subaru: Hah!? Why would I!?

Laito: Because of his magic… don’t you think we could get in trouble?

Yui: Nn, Kino-kun!?

(There is power gathering all around Kino-kun. I have never witnessed something like this before… !)

Kino: Don’t screw with me… everybody always looked down on me… they despised me…

And they’ll continue, unless you finally recognize me!!

*Kino uses his power*

Yui: Kyaa!!

(He actually has such mighty magical powers!? He must have directly hit Karlheinz-sama with this… !)

Kanato: Father… !?

Shu: Don’t get closer… it’s not like this old man would give up so easily in the first place.

Karlheinz: You certainly have a good lineage. However, this level of magic can be easily dissipated.

Kino: Kch…

Karlheinz: Your power, it should be used like this.

*Karlheinz uses his power*

Kino: Ngh… !

Yui: (He dodged it… !)

Karlheinz: Your timing of going in defense is unexpectedly good. Normally, others would not be able to dodge this amount.

*Karlheinz attacks again*

Kino: Agh!?

Yui: Kino-kun!

(..... ! The ceiling is collapsing… and the roof tiles are...!)

Subaru: Look out!

*Subaru pulls Yui*

Yui: Kyaa… !

Subaru: Hey, are you okay?

Yui: Ah, I’m okay… but…

(The church starts to crumble everywhere now because of the amount of magic he used. If this continues, the entire building…)

(And Kino-kun… !)

Kino: Haa… Haa…

Karlheinz: It seems as if your breath starts to rise. Will the life force which kept you going until now, run out of you here?

*Karlheinz attacks again*

Kino: Aghhhhhh!

Yui: Nn, Kino-kun!!

Kino: Kch… you seriously want to end it… in such a place… ?

Karlheinz: It is… truly impressive that you are still able to stand while being hit with magic like this.

Kino: Of course… I’m still the one who’s going to inherit your powers at the end…

After all of this, I can’t die anymore…

Karlheinz: I see… Hmph, Fufufu.

Yui: Karlheinz-sama… ?

Karlheinz: It is truly unexpected that you bear such strength within you. If so, I might talk about it.

I certainly have paid a visit to Rotigenberg.

Yui: Eh!

Kino: ….. ! T-Then…

Karlheinz: But you are undoubtedly not an heir to my power.

Kino: ...Huh.... ?

Karlheinz: If you certainly do have a reason to be in this place, then it is…

That you are the foundation for a new king to be born.

Kino: The foundation for the king… ?

Karlheinz: One of my dear six sons, one of them may eventually become the new king.

I stimulate a good development for its growth in you, that is the meaning of your entire existence.

Yui: Huh… ?

Kino: Wait… I was supposed to just be a stepladder…?

I was born and abandoned for that reason…? I’ve come so far for this… ?

Karlheinz: Yes, that is correct.

Kino: What’s all of this… I’ve always lived for such a useless reason… ?

The reason I was alive until now… was to be used by someone else… ?

Yui: That’s terrible… to say such a thing… that’s just horrible!

If you really abandoned Kino-kun for exactly that reason一

Do you even have the slightest idea of how Kino-kun felt and lived his life until now!?

Karlheinz: I do not need to know.

Yui: (..... ! He’s activating his powers… !)

Shu: That old man is probably going to hit Kino with all the magic he has. It might be too powerful for him to handle…

Yui: Nn, such… !!

Choices

1) Shout at Kino (black)

2) Help him (white) ♡ ♡ ♡

— Shout at Kino

Yui: Kino-kun, run away!

Kino: I… until now, for what reason…

Yui: (It doesn’t help… he’s totally losing himself because of this!)

Please, Kino-kun… !

— Help him ♡

Kino: I was… always just a stepladder for these guys…

Yui: (As things are now, Kino-kun… !)

Shu: Hey, you! Where do you think you’re going!?

Yui: I’m going to help Kino-kun!

Shu: Stop that, it wouldn’t make any sense for you to get involved in this.

Yui: Nn…

(I know. I know that, but… !)

Kino-kun… please! Run away from this!

Please… I beg you… !

Karlheinz: Give it up. You have already lost the energy to move anyway. A mere foundation stone should at least fullify its function.

— Your Status (white)

Place: Church — Inside

Yui: You’re wrong! Kino-kun is not a cornerstone for anything!

Kino: ...Nn

Yui: Kino-kun never wanted anything else than you to acknowledge him.

He just wanted to be recognized by someone that he truly exists...

And at the end you just trample on him!?

Karlheinz: I was simply stating the truth about this matter.

Yui: No… you’re wrong. That’s not true at all. For me, Kino-kun’s一

He’s the most important person to me!!

Kino: ...Ah…

Subaru: You…

Yui: He’s not a foundation stone. Kino-kun is allowed to live his own life like he desires to!

I want to cuddle together with him. I want to be with him forever, and I won’t deny my feelings for him anymore!

If you continue hurting the one I love, even if it’s you一 I won’t forgive you.

Karlheinz: ...These wonderful eyes, I always wanted to see them.

You are truly stunning 一 Eve

Yui: Eh… ?

Monologue

With a gentle smile on his face, Karlheinz-sama turned his magical hand on me.

A mighty magical power now merciless came toward me.

I knew I couldn’t avoid this outcome.

Place: Church — Inside

Yui: (A tremendous power is approaching me. But I can’t move… I can’t do anything any longer)

(I’m so sorry, Kino-kun. I wanted to help you so bad, yet I couldn’t do anything to save you)

(...I’m so sorry…)

Kino: Stop!!

*Kino protects them*

Yui: (Eh…?)

Kino: Haa… Haa…

Yui: ….. ! Kino-kun!?

Shu: You… protected us….

Karlheinz: Hmph... and here I thought I already broke your will and you fell into despair…

I would have never expected you to protect my sons and Eve.

This is the true work of someone no better than a foundation.

Yui: Nn, and you’re still saying this… !

Kino: ...All I ever wanted, speaking of that….

Yui: Kino-kun… ?

Kino: I’m the one who has literally lived the meaning of being born… I’ve searched for a reason to exist for so long.

Even if you say that I’m just a stepping stone for others, I’ll find my very own significance on my own!

I want to let others know that I’m glad for my existence… I’ll also proof this to my stupid brothers!

Kino: I want to prove myself to my princess, who has been so stupidly friendly with me all the time!

It doesn’t matter to me if I’m mortal…

Because I can do whatever I want to with my existence!!

*Kino attacks him*

Karlheinz: ….. !

Yui: (Did he hit Karlheinz-sama… !?)

Karlheinz: I understand. Those words you said…

Kino: ... Haa… Haa… Kch

*Kino falls down*

Yui: Kino-kun!

Hang in there, Kino-kun!

(He is… completely tattered already…)

...Karlheinz-sama. I won’t forgive you if you do any more harm to Kino-kun than you already did…

Karlheinz: ...This is truly beautiful. I feel the swell of emotions escaping your lips.

What pushed you so far to show your emotions, is it him?

Yui: That’s right, it’s Kino-kun. Without him, I would’ve never experienced these feelings…

(Exactly. I’m talking about Kino-kun here…)

(I’ve always unexpectedly loved him一)

Karlheinz: After all, the intervention was correct. I saw a lot of good things.

Eve. This is a sincere congratulation to what you have sprouted一

Yui: (...He disappeared…)

Kino: Ngh… Kch…

Yui: ….. ! Kino-kun!

Please, hang in there!

(He’s terribly sweating… and the bleeding doesn’t stop. He won’t open his eyes anymore either… Nn)

Uhh… Uhhh… Kino-kun… please… don’t die on me…

Don’t leave me alone… Kino-kun.

Kino: What are you crying for… Yui?

Yui: (Nn… Kino-kun… right now… he said my name…)

Kino: I won’t just die… in this state...

Yui: Tell me, why did you protect us… ?

Kino: Why, you ask… my body, it just moved on its own without my notice… even I… don’t understand why.

Ahh… that’s right… a certain someone, was just too noisy…

Brothers, my brothers…

I just wanted everyone to acknowledge me, to affirm my existence…

For that reason… I wanted his power…

I only wanted to show… my cheeky brothers what really I’m capable of.

The soft touch of such a noisy woman like you… to think that this would satisfy me right now.

Yui: Kino-kun…

Thank you for protecting us…

Kino-kun, I… I love you… I really do love you…

Kino: Overall… that means… in the end, I did achieve something…

With this… I’m fully satisfied… with the… outcome…

*Kino dies*

Yui: Kino-kun?

Hey… you’re joking, right? Please open your eyes…

(After I finally realized my feelings. I still had a lot more to say to you…)

Kino-kun...

Kino… kun...

Monologue

At the end I couldn’t get another word out of his mouth.

Still, I wanted to convey it, and gently pressed my own on Kino-kun’s lips who was fully covered in blood.

I waited for his body temperature to rise, as I started to feel something transmitting.

一 But it wasn’t Kino-kun who responded to my touch, it was a violent vibration and a  dazzling light which shook the area.

Place: Church — Inside

Yui: ...Is the church shining?

Uwahhhh!

↳ Euphoria END

— Your Status (black)

Place: Church — Inside

Yui: Why do you want to take someone’s life like that? You can’t just do things as you desire!

Please, stop it already, Karlheinz-sama!!

Karlheinz: ...You wish for me to stop? How utterly pathetic.

If I do as you say, I will never reach the world I want to create.

Yui: Eh… ?

Karlheinz: Unfortunately this outcome seems like a total failure. I have to end up erasing everything here.

Monologue

Karlheinz-sama’s hand, which had accumulated magical power, was suddenly turned toward us.

A mighty magical power was now mercilessly coming toward us.

In such an unexpected situation, we could not do much other than be surprised.

Place: Church — Inside

Yui: (Karlheinz-sama is walking towards us… and he’s reaching for Ayato-kun…)

(Can’t I somehow stop this entire progress!?)

Karlheinz: Eve, and my dear sons. This is part of your true life.

Shu: Tch… !

Yui: (If this continues, everyone… that’s horrible… such一)

Stop it!!

*Yui protects them*

Yui: Ahh… Ughh…

Kino: Ngh… what...

Yui: (Huh, what happened?)

Ayato: Are you dumb!? Why would you jump right in front of this man!?

Subaru: Hey, hang in there!!

Yui: Ayato-kun… everyone…

(I was able to… protect them. That’s good… I could prevent them from getting hit by his magical power all on my own…)

Kino: What are you doing!? Why did you go and protect them!?

*Yui’s eyes close*

Yui: Kino… kun…

(At the end, this is all I could do for you. I’m glad I was able… to protect everyone)

Monologue

Karlheinz-sama probably had to make adjustments based on this unexpected experience. But my body has served its purpose, I could finally protect those I love.

I’m more than grateful that I was able to do this now.

I can now slowly feel the blood flowing out of my fallen body.

The feeling in my limbs is completely lost, my vision becomes darker and my consciousness is at its end.

For my very end, I wanted to see Kino-kun one last time一

But I wasn’t able to see anything anymore.

Place: Church — Inside

Kino: You’re kidding, right? … Why…

Why, why did you do that!? Yui!

Yui: …..

Kino: I won’t… accept this… I won’t… allow this…

Aghhhhhhhhh

↳ Labyrinth END

[scalproie]

VERGIL

THANK YOU I LOVE YOU

So about the V-man/Daddy Long Legs/Deadbeat of the year/Blue Dante/Jack Frost Sr. himself:

favorite thing about them: I keep a list

Boss Fights (they are SO FUN!!!)

Coat

Hairstyle

His design in general really

His Sin Devil Trigger Form is pretty cool...

Voice

His simple yet complex character and development that I shan't go into details orherwise we'd be here all day

His son Nero

least favorite thing about them: I know this isn't the series' focus and honestly I don't want it to be cuz we're not here for that, plus if you're willing to reach, there are some justifications, but yeah, causing the death of all those people and getting off scot free wasn't very gucci

(I was gonna add that he did so twice but the first time he DID end up in a prickly situation (The Nelo Angelo stuff) because of his own hubris)

favorite line: HE'S GOT SO MANY THAT I LOVE ok ok ok because of the ironic potential if it comes back to bite him, I'm gonna go with

"Did some pesky fatherly love get in your way?" [Cue Curb Your Enthusiasm]

Close runner up is the "That Day..." speech and the Vergil Bratty Moments™ aka "Well I want yours too." and "If you want it, then you'll have to take it.".... also "Thank you Nero." is up there... there's so much more you have no idea.... "SHCUM!"...

brOTP: easy answer is Dante but this is like. The one (1) meaningful relationship confirmed he has in his life. Also they're already brothers and had a whole childhood AND game dedicated to them. Part of me want to say Griffon & co but I feel this is more a V thing even if I'm in the "V is literally just Vergil" group. So this is just wishful thinking but MAN I just really want more interactions between him and Nero, indulge me with more father and son bonding because I would argue this is the MOST interesting relationship to look into in future games and content. Another relationship I'd really wanna explore is Vergil with his daughter-in-law, once they're past all dmc5 events-related awkwardness. Vergil and Credo are lowkey similar so I get the vibe Kyrie would know how to handle the man, and I don't think they would make Vergil disrespect Kyrie because while we've never actually seen him interact casually with other people/humans, I think it'd be out of character and a dumb move.

OTP: Ok so Vergil is a very big comfort character o' mine so I project really hard on the man, and the aro/ace is jumping out so I really do not care and do not want to ship him with any character of the small cast, that's not why I love dmc in the first place. (ABSOLUTELY NOT a jab on OCs and self-shippers. Y'all do y'all <3). Romantic and/or sexual love is not the type of love I want to see him express... which I realize is super ironic and funny because this is the one (1) character in dmc we know for certain that had sexy times (congrats to the fortuna woman who got him in bed. You go girl).

nOTP: You'd think it'd be a given but an alarming amount of dmc fans are addicted to inc*st so... a big no to that. What the fuck. (They're literally twiiiins whyyy... and I don't care how many mental gymnastics you're doing this is still his fucking father....). Also like I said above I pretty much avoid any shippy or suggestive/nsfw stuff involving Vergil so.

random headcanon: Vergil doesn't need to sleep or eat because of that sweet sweet demon blood, but if he did, his go-to junk food would be hamburgers like we saw in VoV (Dante has pizza but we all knew that, and my hc for Nero is instant ramen/pasta). Additional hcs for Vergil is that he played the violin and he strikes me as the kind of guy who speak fluently latin, not modern italian, but the dead latin language (which would make for some funny interactions in Fortuna). Also Special Shout Out To Scottish Vergil.

unpopular opinion: Unsure of the popularity of that take but I'm glad him being Gilver got retconned. Unsure of the popularity of that take but ive seen a few people saying that they'll ruin Vergil by making him more "fun" by developping his character and to that I say "You want to keep Vergil boring???". I also personally do not care about the nature of the relationship between him and Nero's mother and I don't feel the need to find out more about that.

song i associate with them: THAT BEING SAID irony strikes again because a bunch of songs I associate with him are romantic. And italian. Anyway: "The Nexus" by Amaranthe; "Bottom Of The Deep Blue Sea" by Missio; "Cold Cold Man" by Saint Motel; "Il Volo" by Zucchero and "Vivo Per Lei" by Andrea Bocelli

favorite picture of them: choose your fighter

[fytheuntamed]

Do you have any thoughts on why the novel might be so popular among lgbt people despite (sometimes quite obviously) being written by a straight women for straight women. I think this is quite evident in for example the sex scenes

Why do I think the novel is so popular amongst LGBTQ+ people despite being written by a straight woman for straight women? Simple! It’s a good story and the characters are complex and intriguing. No piece of media is ever perfect, so it simply comes down to whether an individual feels the positive aspects of the media outweigh the negative aspects of the media. Are there problematic aspects within the novel? Of course! But that doesn’t mean the novel as a whole should be disregarded. You can consume media while still being critical of it, just like you can like a character while acknowledging that they’re not a good person. LGBTQ+ people, like everyone else, value a good story and interesting characters, so even if there are aspects of the story that we dislike, we may still stick around if we think it’s worth it! Also, I think there’s a shortage of stories like “Mo Dao Zu Shi” where you have LGBTQ+ characters whose sexuality isn’t the focus of the story. Yes, Wangxian are soulmates and very much in love, but that isn’t the whole point. You have a delightful bundle of politics, magic, familial ties, concepts of right and wrong, mystery, etc etc that also features a beautiful love story between two men. I guess my point is, LGBTQ+ people are flawed just like everyone else and sometimes we consume content even if we don’t agree with every part of it.

I’ve avoided getting involved in any discourse surrounding the various versions of MDZS because I wanted to keep this blog drama free, however I would like to take this chance to offer my own thoughts on the “problematic” aspects of the novel. Before I get into it, I just want to make three things clear: 1) I’m white, 2) I’m not mlm, I’m a lesbian, and 3) I’ve only read the second half of the novel and honestly I can’t remember too much of the specifics. The relevance of my opinion on the matter, therefore, is limited and my words should be read with this fact in mind. I would love to hear everyone’s thoughts and feelings on this matter, so do feel free to either leave a comment or reblog and add your two-cents. All I ask is that we keep it respectful so this can continue to be an enjoyable space for all fans.

I’ve been going through the untamed’s tumblr tag daily since the start of this blog in August 2019, so I’ve seen the whole spectrum of opinions on this matter. Some people feel very strongly that some of the ways in which MXTX writes particular aspects of the novel are “problematic,” some people are indifferent, and others feel that criticism of MXTX’s writing comes from a lack of knowledge of Chinese culture (particularly LGBTQ+ Chinese culture). (I remember seeing a post touching upon this last matter, but I didn’t save it, so unfortunately I can’t link it.)

I think the two most common criticisms of the novel that I have come across pertain to matters of consent and the imposing of heteronormative concepts onto Wangxian. Again, I want to stress that I haven’t read the novel in its entirety and my memory of it is foggy. Talking about consent first, some felt the scene in the novel where LWJ kisses an unexpecting blindfolded WWX was a big no no, while others thought it was a very sweet, romantic scene. (To give context for those who have only seen the drama, this scene would have been placed in episode 25 had they included it). For this matter, I’m of the belief that consent is a must. Regardless of whether WWX enjoyed the kiss, the fact stands that no one is entitled to another’s body, and this is why consent is, in my eyes, non-negotiable. For those who have no problem with this scene, I do think it is worth considering how you would feel about this scene had it involved, say, Jin Zixuan kissing a blindfolded Jiang Yanli. If that had been the case, I do think the majority of readers would have found the scene in poor taste (I could be wrong, though!). I will say that the trope of the forceful kiss is extremely common and can be found in every genre; it’s definitely not restricted to LGBTQ+ couples. For the aforementioned reason, I don’t like the forceful kiss scenario irregardless of the genders of the people involved. I do think writing such scenes for LGBTQ+ couples in particular can perpetuate harmful stereotypes, particularly that LGBTQ+ people have no respect for personal boundaries and can’t control their physical desires. I think the situation is doubly bad if the person who is being kissed is “not yet gay,” because again, it perpetuates the idea of the big bad gay person and the innocent “straight” person who is at the whims of said big bad gay.

Moving on to WWX and LWJ’s sex life, I have seen multiple people in the tag mentioning WWX having a “rape kink” and their discomfort with this fact. Logically, I understand that we are all allowed, as human beings with different tastes and preferences, to enjoy the things that bring us pleasure (excluding certain obvious things). That being said, I do not personally enjoy rape fantasies in my media and try to stay far away from it. As I mentioned, we are all welcome to our own tastes and preferences, but I do think it is important that we realize that we are all also the product of our environments. Things, including kinks, do not exist in vacuums, and therefore they must arise as a result of some mixture of external and internal forces. Does MXTX giving WWX a rape kink automatically make her demon spawn? Not really. Does MXTX giving WWX a rape kink add anything to his character or the story? Also not really. All this being said, I do think LGBTQ+ media is oversaturated with consent issues and I’d personally like to see this come to an end, because once again, it perpetuates harmful stereotypes that do have a real impact on LGBTQ+ individuals.

As for the imposing of heteronormative concepts onto Wangxian, I think the biggest complaint I’ve seen is about WWX being referred to as the “mom” or the “wife” within the Wangxian couple. I would like to state here that this may be a situation in which cultural differences come into play. Additionally, because the novel is not originally written in English, it may be a case of telephone in which the true meaning becomes distorted as it is translated from one language to another and then to another and so on and so forth. Therefore, I am going to proceed with my thoughts on the matter in a more generalized way. For me, this is a big pet peeve of mine, to the point where I will not reblog content that refers to any of the male characters as “mom” or “wife.” My reasoning is simple: WWX is a man, so he would be someone’s “dad” or “husband,” not their “mom” or “wife.” I know from first-hand experience that non-LGBTQ+ people will often try to place a gay couple within a heterosexual context to make it easier for them to process how two women or two men could be together. I understand the reasoning behind this way of thinking, but that does not mean this way of thinking should be encouraged. It’s bad enough that non-LGBTQ+ couples are ensnared in an endless maze of gendered ways of being and thinking - let’s not force that on LGBTQ+ couples as well. My other issue is that the words “mom” and “wife” not only have gendered connotations, but they have implicit sexual connotations as well. In this context, “mom” and “wife” are just another way of saying “bottom.” Just think about it; nobody’s out there calling LWJ “mom” or “wife.” The whole idea of “top” and “bottom” in gay media is so……..it’s almost like an obsession? And for those of you who may be thinking it’s not that deep and has no bearing on real life….I really wish that were true. Go look at the comments section of any gay couple’s youtube video and you will invariably find someone asking who is the top and who is the bottom. That’s invasive as fuck, y’all, and you don’t see that shit on straight couple’s videos (again, because the assumption is that women are always in the submissive, therefore there’s no need to ask because it’s assumed the answer will always be that the woman “bottoms” and the man “tops”). All this being said, I can only speak about this matter from my viewpoint as a lesbian. If one day I were to get married, I wouldn’t want people referring to my wife as my “husband,” because the whole point is that we’re both the wife! I know there isn’t one rule/mindset that applies to all gay people, so I would love to hear others’ feelings on this matter.

Finally, I would also like to briefly touch upon Mo Xuanyu, who we don’t really get to see in the drama. I don’t know whether LWJ or WWX ever explicitly state their sexualities or which gender(s) they’re attracted to, but I’m pretty sure Mo Xuanyu is explicitly stated to be strictly into men (please correct me if I’m wrong!). I do wonder what MXTX’s intentions were (if there were any) when she decided to make Mo Xuanyu gay, because what I’ve grasped of his characterization is that he is written similarly to other gay male characters that give the impression they were created by checking off a list of every popular stereotype about gay men. I guess I’m just curious, as someone who knows very little about Mo Xuanyu, how others felt about his character in terms of complexity and stereotypes.

If you took the time to read all this, thank you! Let me know your thoughts~

[luxekook]

the mirror | vmin

⇥ pairing: demon!jimin x reader x demon!taehyung

⇥ genre: smut, fluff, slight horror/thriller (?)

⇥ summary: demon!vmin want to make the reader theirs

⇥ word count: 2.4k

⇥ warnings: nc17, cursing, dirty talk, varying levels of smut, talk of demons and possession, general crack!fic

MAJOR DISCLAIMER: This is based on an actual dream I had and pretty much defies all logic. Lol, happy (early) Halloween!

© lustjoon. please do not repost, modify, edit or translate.

My new apartment currently resembled the aftermath of a B and E. Moving boxes were strewn everywhere, various pieces of Ikea furniture were left half assembled, and I was panicking. Asking for help had never been an issue for me before – I wasn’t much of a prideful person.

However, asking for help from my best friends Taehyung and Jimin had been harder than forcing myself to go to the gym. My reluctance to ask them over wasn’t that I didn’t like them. In fact, I had the opposite problem.

I loved them, and those feelings were so fucking confusing.

It wasn’t that I was too much of a little bitch to tell either of them how I felt; it was that I was too much of a little bitch to tell them both how I felt.

I loved Jimin. And I loved Taehyung. Equally.

You don’t even know how many hours I spent scouring the internet for any semblance of an explanation for how I felt.

Basically, I came to a couple conclusions:

1) I was into polyamory:

Polyamory is the practice of, or desire for, intimate relationships with more than one partner, with the consent of all partners involved. It has been described as "consensual, ethical, and responsible non-monogamy".

2) Some pretty badass women like Olive Byrne were polyamorous:

Olive Byrne was a polyamorous life partner of William and Elizabeth Marston and has been credited as an inspiration for Wonder Woman.

And now I was at an impasse – tell the boys and potentially ruin our friendship or never take the chance and stay firmly in the friend-zone.

Basically, I had chosen to do neither and avoid them for the past couple weeks like a fucking coward instead.

The doorbell sounded and shook me from my mini pity party. Time to face the music, I thought as I plastered a forced smile on my face. I opened the door and immediately was pulled into a hug by Jimin.

He spun me around, squeezing me tightly, “I missed you so fucking much, (y/n)!” My forced smile turned real as I felt his warmth around me.

“Stop hogging her, Jimin,” Taehyung said derisively as he stretched his arms out to me.

I wiggled out of Jimin’s hold and into Taehyung’s arms. He smelled like autumn – a heady mix of wood, spice and musk.

I noticed Jimin pouting over Taehyung’s shoulder and I couldn’t help but grin.

Reluctantly extracting myself from Taehyung’s hold, I was still smiling, “Thanks for coming over to help me. I’ve barely made a dent unpacking.”

“That’s what friends are for,” Jimin threw an arm around my shoulders – crushing both my neck and my feelings – while he and Taehyung shared a furtive glance, “Besides, we haven’t seen you for ages.”

“Right,” I mumbled and tried to shake it off the friend-zone comment, “Okay, well I think it’s best we start with the bedroom because I cannot sleep on an air mattress for a fourth night.”

A pregnant pause crackling with tension arose. My eyes darted between the boys who seemed to be having one of their infuriatingly cryptic telepathic conversations.

“You’ve been sleeping on an air mattress this whole time?”

Uh-oh. I knew Taehyung’s angry voice and he just used it.

“Yes…” I backed up as I noticed the boys had suddenly moved all up in my space.

“And you didn’t tell us because…”

Yup, there was Jimin’s angry voice. I was screwed. “Because I didn’t think it was a big deal?” I responded, confused as to why they were making such a fuss over a damn air mattress.

“Not a big deal,” Taehyung hissed and stalked off towards my bedroom, “I can’t do it, Jimin. Talk to her.”

I stared open-mouthed at Taehyung’s back as he exited the living room and made his way towards my room at the end of the hall. What the hell was going on here?

“What the hell is going on here?”

Jimin ignored my perfectly valid question, “You don’t think your health is a big deal? You shouldn’t be sleeping on an air mattress when there are perfectly good beds at me and Tae’s.”

“My health? It’s a fricking air mattress, not a pile of sticks, Jimin! Last time I checked, air mattresses were made for sleeping!”

He continued to ignore me, “You need to take care of yourself, (y/n).”

“You’re not my fucking father or boyfriend, Jimin. I don’t need a lecture.”

“Believe me, I know,” Jimin said darkly and turned away from me, heading in the direction Taehyung disappeared to. And I swore I heard him mutter, “Fuck a lecture, she needs a spanking.”

I stay rooted in my place against the wall and wondered what the actual fuck just happened.

Taehyung calling my name jolted me out of my reverie, “(y/n)? What’s this?”

“What’s what?” I asked, heading towards my room to see what he was asking about.

Oh god, what if he found my unopened stash of condoms?

My speed increased tenfold as I practically ran down the hall. Entering my room, I saw Taehyung staring down at a weird-looking mirror I hadn’t seen before.

“Where did you find that?” I question as Taehyung continues to look down at the mirror as if in a trance.

“Bro? You good?” Jimin asked as we exchanged a concerned look.

Taehyung slowly lifted his head up – his eyes closed; his mouth twisted into a smirk. “Never better,” his answering voice sent shivers down my spine. I opened my mouth to question his suddenly deepened tone when Taehyung opened his eyes.

Gone were the hazel eyes I loved so much and gone were any traces of light or reflection.

There was only darkness.

“Taehyung, what the fuck?” Jimin yelled and pulled me behind him.

“What?” Taehyung cocked his head slowly to the side, “What’s wrong?”

I gaped at Taehyung, “Your eyes…”

“…They’re black,” Jimin finished for me.

Tae’s answering grin was almost as alarming as his fucking black eyes as he peered into the strange mirror again, “Well, what do you know… they are.”

“Why aren’t you freaking the fuck out, Tae?” Jimin continued to shout at him as he moved to grab the mirror from him, “What the fuck is this shit?”

“Here,” Taehyung thrusted the mirror at Jimin, “Look.”

Jimin snatched the mirror from Taehyung and inspected the back of it. I looked over his shoulder, noticing the symbols etched upon its surface. They looked familiar.

Where had I seen them before?

As I wracked my brain, Jimin adjusted his grip on the mirror and its handle came into view. I was staring, completely horrified at its marking of an upside-down cross, when Jimin flipped over the mirror.

“No, don’t—!” My scared protest sounded too late, as I watched in terror as Jimin gazed into the mirror just like Taehyung had minutes before.

“Fucking dumbass,” I groaned. Clearly, the mirror had some kind of curse and Jimin had walked right into it.

Taehyung chuckled amusedly at my obvious distress and turned to his friend, “Feel that power, Jimin?”

Jimin glanced up at Taehyung with now-matching black eyes and leisurely rolled his neck, cracking it, “Oh, fuck yeah.”

My ‘fuck this shit’ meter hit level one million as both boys turned their heads to face me.

“Uh,” I backed up, “I’m gonna go… Feel free to show yourselves out.”

“Now, wait just a second, columba,” the foreign word flowed unnaturally easily from Jimin’s mouth.

Speaking yet another language? That was a big no from me, dog.

I took off.

“Come on, (y/n), don’t run from us,” Taehyung taunted as I ran out my door at full speed. Racing down the stairs and across the apartment lobby, I rushed outside. I could hear them calling my name behind me, “Columba, you know we’ll find you.”

Jimin’s teasing voice urged me to run faster. I knew they had to be fucking with me at this point. They worked out on the daily while I only worked out when hustling to meet my Postmates at the door.

I weaved between pedestrians and made the split-second decision to duck inside the local art museum.

Pushing through the doors, I quickly pivoted to the exhibit on the left – the sculpture hall. I careened to a halt behind a massive sculpture of Galileo and fought to catch my breath.

Had I actually lost them?

A spark of hope bloomed in my chest.

And subsequently died when I heard a whistled tune echoing from the exhibit entrance. Were they seriously harmonizing their whistles to “Jopping”?

Maybe they weren’t completely evil?

“Found you, columba,” Taehyung whispered in my ear – entirely too close for me. I opened my mouth to scream, but his palm covered my mouth, “Shh, this is an art museum, (y/n). It requires you to be quiet. And so do I.”

My eyebrows knitted together as I glared defiantly into his blackened eyes. 

Fuck that noise. 

Cursed or not, I didn’t take orders from assholes.

Taehyung noticed my thunderous expression and smiled hugely, “We love how feisty you are, columba. We want you to be our third.”

He looked at me expectantly. I rolled my eyes at his idiocy and stared at him pointedly.

“Oh,” Taehyung grinned sheepishly, removing his hand, “My bad.”

“Your bad,” I seethed, “Your fucking bad? Who the hell do you think you are?” 

He opened his mouth to respond but I plowed ahead, “That was a rhetorical question, you buffoon. Now listen up: I don’t know what exactly is going on here, but I do know that I’m not vibing with the whole cursed black eyes and new language thing.”

“Ah, Tae, you found her,” Jimin chose the absolute wrong time to interrupt. As I level my glare towards him, he actually flinched back.

“Great,” I laugh, “You’re both here. Now can one of you press your last two working braincells together and give me an explanation?”

“We want you as our third,” Jimin said, as if that explained it all.

“I’m sorry,” I said, “I don’t speak demon.”

The boys snickered. “Yeah, the mirror chose wisely,” Taehyung told Jimin.

“Hello?” I waved my hand in between their faces, “I’m right here, boys.”

They turned to face me together. “We know,” Jimin said, prowling towards me.

“Yes,” Taehyung agreed, cornering me in from the other side, “We definitely know.”

“To be our third means that you’d complete our triad,” Jimin trailed his hand down my cheek, “Me, you, and Taehyung.”

“We know how you feel about us, columba,” Taehyung murmured from my other side as my back pressed further into the foot of the sculpture behind us.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” I entered full deflective mode, “We’re friends – at least we were. Jury’s out right now.”

“Friends don’t want to fuck each other, (y/n).”

I choked on air at Jimin’s comment.

“You really should clear your search history,” Taehyung whispered into my neck, before giving it a nip.

I felt the blood drain from my face, “Search history?”

“’What is polyamory?’” Jimin ticked off a finger.

Okay, I could explain that search as innocent curiosity.

“’How to approach a polyamorous relationship’,” Taehyung continued and held up a second finger.

Again, I could probably play the innocence card.

“And, my personal favorite, ‘Is it wrong to fuck two friends at the same time?’” Jimin victoriously waves three fingers in the air.

Fuck. I forgot about that one.

I wracked my brain for excuses and came up with nothing. My shoulders slumped, “What do you want me to say? That I love both of you? That it’s embarrassing to admit? That I’ve been terrified to tell you? Take your pick!”

The boys looked at each other briefly and then back at me. “We’ve loved you since the day we met,” Jimin leaned in to kiss my cheek.

Taehyung pressed his mouth to my other cheek, and I could feel his lips moving against it as he added, “It’s true. We’ve been wanting to share you in every way since then.”

I was speechless – both from their proximity and their words.

“Look at her, Jimin. She’s gone quiet. Columba… Our little dove…” Taehyung trailed off, moving his mouth over mine and kissing me.

My body felt like it was on fire. My lips parted in a gasp and Taehyung took advantage, his tongue sliding across my own with a such a sensual slowness that my back arched against the statue’s pedestal behind me.

His hands travelled down the sides of my neck and stay there, gripping my throat lightly in his fingers as he works his tongue against mine.

“Be our third,” Jimin’s whisper sounded from my left, but I couldn’t process anything with Taehyung’s hand on my neck and tongue in my mouth.

Suddenly, Taehyung’s pushed off of me and Jimin slid into his place. “Say yes,” he continued and pressed his lips to mine.

His kiss is completely different than Taehyung’s, fervent but precise. He kisses me like he had been doing so all his life and knew every inch of my body.

Then I felt Taehyung push me off of the statue that I had been using as a crutch and slide into its place behind me. His hands gripped my hips and pulled me back against him, kissing my neck as Jimin continued to dominate my mouth.

“Say yes,” Taehyung echoed Jimin’s earlier plea.

Jimin removed his mouth from mine and smirked at my immediate sound of disappointment.

“Is that a yes, (y/n)?” he asks, raising a brow, his black eyes boring into mine.

I couldn’t speak. Taehyung’s thumbs were tracing patterns on my hips. Jimin trailed a hand up my torso to lightly land on my throat, finding my pulse-point.

This was too much.

On one hand, I knew they were still the boys, deep down. On the other, I had no fucking idea what that mirror had done to them.

But, fuck it – they were still my boys.

“It's a yes,” I said and reveled in Jimin’s beaming grin.

“We’re going to make you so happy you said yes,” came Taehyung’s voice behind me.

“Now, just one more thing,” Jimin reached for something behind his back.

Before I could even comprehend, he had the mirror in front of me. Taehyung’s hands framed my head, forcing it still.

Did Jimin have that thing this whole time? What the fuck?

My eyes were glued to my reflection in the mirror – it was smiling.

I was not.

And then I watched as my eyes turned black.

columba – (Latin) dove

[pengychan]

[Good Omens] Winging It - Genesis 4:9

Summary: Shockingly, attempting to destroy an angel without consulting God first comes with consequences. There is more than one way to fall, and a thousand more ways to inconvenience an angel and a demon who just wanted to be left in peace. Characters: Gabriel, Crowley, Aziraphale, Beelzebub, Michael, Uriel, Sandalphon Rating: T  

Prologue and all chapters are tagged as ‘winging it’ on my blog.

A/N: Uncomfortable realization time? Uncomfortable realization time. But at least this supernatural version of Where In The World Is Carmen Sandiego is drawing to a close.

***

For a time after the War, Gabriel - as well as everyone else, apparently - failed to truly realize what was happening.

Part of the reason, he supposed, was that they were all busier than they’d ever been. The war had been exhausting but, once it was over - the rebels cast down, out of paradise, away from God - they had very little time to rest. There was so much to do, so much to fix: entire galaxies had been turned to dust as the War raged on, and the Heavenly host  had been reduced by half. 

Which translated to a lot of work… and very little desire to think of what had become of the other half of them, for a lot of excellent reasons. 

Anger was one, of course. How dare they turn against God, against them? How dare they believe they were above their creator, and throw everything in such chaos? They deserved their punishment, certainly, and they shouldn't waste time thinking of them. 

Another reason was pain. Few of them would acknowledge it - surely they were not supposed to grieve the loss of traitors - but it was there, a constant ache previously unknown, worse even than the sting of betrayal. They had lost half their brethren, after all, corrupted beyond salvation, they who’d never known loss before. They weren’t meant to know loss, not built to withstand it.

But the busier they kept themselves the less they thought of the Fallen, and the less they thought of the Fallen the easier it became to bear. So they chose, collectively, not to think of them at all.

Until the day Gabriel tried to, and found that he could not. Names, faces and ranks he’d known as well as his own were beyond his grasp, or at least the vast majority of them. There was a name he could recall, a name he clung to. 

Ba’al.

He didn’t remember their face, nor their rank, or much of anything about them at all, and  yet the last scraps of a memory remained, lingering stubbornly-- Ba’al was stubborn, too -- and refusing to fade away. 

Part of him wanted to hold onto those memories, of course; try to remember the Ba’al he’d known and cared for, before he was lost along with countless others. Only that it was a small part of him, somewhere behind his left knee, while the rest was desperate to be rid of them.

“I tried to warn you.”

“Join our cause.”

“Abandon this folly!”

"Next time you cross my path, I shall take you down."

Certainly, if the memories were fading it had to be God’s will, and he had no reason no intention to defy it. So he let it happen, allowing himself relief before he carried on with his duties, determined as ever to serve God and the Great Plan. They knew there had been a War, of course; they had vague recollections of the fight, clear memories of the victory. 

As time passed, they learned to know their adversaries - the demons the Fallen had become, not the same beings anymore - and it was easy, so very easy, to see them as the enemies and nothing more. 

Knowledge of the fact they had once been part of them meant little, with no real memory of it; no angel regretted forgetting them, or at least none of them said as much aloud.

In Heaven, many things go unsaid.

***

“Archangel Gabriel asked you to find Alison.”

“Yes. He did personally request we seek your sister, and as it is proving more difficult than expected we would appreciate your cooperation--”

“Archangel fucking Gabriel.”

That, Uriel thought, was the reason why no high-ranking angel had ever willingly taken on duties in the lower spheres of Heaven, where good mortals resided after death. Dead or not, virtuous or not, they were still humans. And humans could be… unnecessarily crude.

“Such language is entirely uncalled for in Heaven, and I’d appreciate you minding it,” she said. Had she remembered that Gabriel had referred to himself precisely that way not too long ago, she might have thought otherwise… but she did not, in fact, remember that. 

The formerly-mortal, now eternal soul Daniel Brown didn’t even seem to hear her: he just rubbed his face and turned to look, wide-eyed, at the woman beside him. His wife - Liv, he called her. “Jesus Christ,” he muttered. 

Uriel frowned. “There is no need to involve him. As I was saying--”

“It was really the Archangel Gabriel! The guy from the Bible! And-- shit, that song-- Sting-- he got all weird listening to it, I didn’t-- I had no idea--!”

Having been dead and in Heaven for several years now, said wife seemed less surprised by the notion of an Archangel walking on Earth with a dislike for Sting. She patted his shoulder. 

“I heard you, darling. Mind your pressure.”

“Liv, we’re dead. I just-- I thought he was just fucking around!”

“Mr. Brown!” Uriel protested. “Archangels - even former ones - do not… do that,” she muttered, despite not actually remembering whether or not Gabriel did have the habit to, quote, fuck around. She would just assume he did not, as it would be beneath his status.

Since when was it normal for a human soul to speak like that in front of an angel, anyway? Uriel’s experience in dealing with humans was rather limited - on top of her mind she had told a fellow named Noah that rain was coming, and checked Egypt’s doors for lamb blood on one more memorable occasion - but she was rather sure they used to be more polite than… that.

“How did he even-- how do you become a former Archangel?”

“... His employment was terminated.”

“Ah. All right, that’s… pretty much what he said. That he was cast down - I thought he meant he’d been sacked, you know, walked out with his stuff in a cardboard box or something.”

Was Gabriel given a cardboard box prior to being cast out? Uriel didn’t quite remember, so she decided not to remark on that. “Well, either way, what I am here to talk about is your--”

“I thought he was just drunk. I mean, he was, but what he said - off with his wings - was… real?”

It was, of course. Uriel knew Gabriel’s wings had been torn off by Michael while she and Sandalphon held him down, but only because they had written it down and talked about it. She had no memory of the event itself. “I am afraid this is a metter I cannot discuss. Now--”

“Why cast him out?” Daniel Brown asked, refusing to drop the matter. “What did he even do?”

Nothing we did not do as well, Uriel thought, but did not answer. In the back of her mind, a tiny voice murmured that maybe he had done something to deserve it - he must have done something to deserve it. It was the only thing that made sense. They had just… forgotten it. 

“... What he did or did not do is not for me to discuss, much less with you,” she finally said, and straightened herself. “Now, Mr. Brown, about your sister…”

***

“... So you couldn’t find anything.”

“Unfortunately not, but we’re not giving up just yet. We will find out where she is. Uriel went to speak with the mortal, to see if he can tell her anything of use.” 

Michael’s voice was collected, perfectly professional. Sitting across the table with a mug of hot coffee in his hands - he’d almost offered Michael some, before remembering that with one notable exception angels did not, in fact, consume human food or drinks - Gabriel nodded.

“I see. How… how is he?” he asked, gaining himself a slightly confused look. 

“Well, I have not met him, but-- he’s in Heaven. Certainly he’s doing well.”

Ah, of course. How could anyone  possibly be in Heaven and not be doing well? Beyond its gates, there was everything a soul could possibly ask for… but maybe not everyone. Their loved ones may be in Hell, or… wherever in creation Alison Brown even was. 

Is it really paradise if those you care about are missing? He’d never wondered such a thing until now, and suddenly he found he couldn’t stop thinking about it. “He had a wife,” Gabriel found himself saying, looking up. Seeing Michael made the scars on his back ache, but his hands were not shaking anymore and his voice was firm. “She died some ten years ago. Is she there?”

To his relief, Michael nodded. “Yes, I did see that on his papers. He has been reunited with her.”

“Ah. That’s-- good. He missed her a lot.” It should have been enough, knowing he was well, but somehow it was not. He was well, yes, but he was not there. Gabriel had never known an absence could take up so much space, and make it so empty.

There was a silence, a bit too long not to be awkward. Gabriel focused on Michael’s face, on the way she avoided his gaze as she busied herself with her notes on the case. It was almost eerie; Michael had never before, since the very beginning of everything, averted her gaze from anyone but God. As far as he could remember, at least: there were holes, of course, where memories relating to any of the Fallen had simply… gone. 

Why did we forget the Fallen? Why am I recalling things now that I could not before?

The thought was sudden, and it caused Gabriel to frown. Something else whispered in the back of his mind, a voice that had spoken to him in his dreams and which, he suspected, belonged to a certain Prince of Hell. 

They will forget you. Maybe they already did. They have all forgotten you. Forget them, too. 

“... Gabriel? Is something the matter?” Michael’s voice caused Gabriel to recoil. He realized only then he’d been staring for entirely too long, eyes wide and mouth agape, probably looking quite foolish. He cleared his throat and opened his mouth to say it was nothing, that she may go.

What actually left him was a question. “How much do you remember about me, Michael?”

It struck a nerve, Gabriel could tell: Michael stiffened, pressed her lips, and was quite a few moments “... I do know who you are,” she replied, and stood. “I ought to go back--”

“But you’re forgetting me, aren’t you?”

Another pause, then a sigh. “We won’t. We have notes about you to-- remind ourselves.”

The notion he was being forgotten about in Heaven hit him hard, but until not too long ago a part of him - the part that every night, as he dreamed, cried and screamed and begged uselessly for his wings not to be torn out -  for he would at least have found some relief in the fact those who’d cast him out would have no reason to seek him out ever again. 

Now, however, there was no relief to mitigate the hurt but rather something else - confusion and something warm in his chest that he dared not name. “Notes to remind yourselves?”

A nod. “So that we don’t entirely forget you.”

“... Why?”

“No one knows. We forgot the Fallen, of course, but this is different. You are no demon, and--”

“No, I mean-- why fight it?” Gabriel cut her off. “If it’s divine will that you forget the Fallen--”

“You are not Fallen, Gabriel,” Michael cut him off right back, frowning. “You were--”

“Cast out,” he cut her off, again. “Some difference.”

“We refuse to forget you.”

“If God wills it--”

“We don’t know if God wills it,” Michael retorted, cutting him off again. It was turning into a habit.

“Everything happens because God wills it,” Gabriel replied, but his voice lacked conviction. Something whispered in his mind that perhaps - just perhaps - forgetting the fallen had less to do with God’s will and more to do with their need to take the path of least resistance, to allow themselves no doubts or regrets that might weaken their faith in God’s plan.

Aziraphale had been no exception then, but he was now. Aziraphale, who had defied the Great Plan. Who had strayed from the path, allowed himself doubt, and… remembered him well.

“Gone native,” they had muttered. More human than celestial, trading a world of easy order and certainty with chaos, second-guessing, twisted paths shrouded in mist.

“How will I know I’m doing the right things?”

“You won’t,” Metatron had said.

“You figure it out, Gabe,” the demon Crowley had sneered. “It’s the gift of free will.”

A long breath, and Gabriel stood, looking at Michael in the eye. “Was it hard?” he asked, already knowing the answer. “Carrying out the order to cast me out.”

She avoided his gaze. “... The hardest thing I ever had to do. It haunts me. Haunts all of us.”

“You cast out many of the rebels.”

“That was different. They rebelled - you were one of us.”

“... They were part of us, too.”

“They rebelled. You were punished for something we all took part to,” Michael almost snapped, finally looking back at him again. “You were trying to do the right thing.”

“Good intentions. What was it that paves the road to Hell again?”

A scowl. “This is ridiculous. I know you’re nothing like the Fallen we--”

“How would you? You don’t remember what they were like. None of us did. It was easier not to.”

Is it really paradise if those you care about are missing?

You can’t miss someone you don’t remember.

“What…?”

“Could you - or Uriel, or Sandalphon or anyone else - carry on with your duties as easily if you thought of the enemy the way you think of me?”

For several moments, Michael stared. Then she spoke slowly, as though letting the words sink in as she uttered them. “... You don’t think it was God to will us to forget,” she said. “You think it was our own doing. Then with the Fallen, and now with you.”

Gabriel nodded. “The path of least resistance. No reason to doubt. Nothing to regret.”

Michael slowly sat. She looked… lost. That was new. “I can’t be. We don’t want to forget you.”

“... I know. But old habits are hard to die,” Gabriel replied, and managed a smile, sitting as well. His hands went back to the cooling mug of coffee. “Believe me, I found out the hard way.”

***

It wasn’t often that Beelzebub, Prince of Hell and Lord of the Flies, asked to view the file of a mortal. It was even more unusual when said mortal was already deceased and in Heaven; the few times it had happened, it had been because they believed there was a chance a mistake had been made and that the soul was deserving of Hell. 

In very few occasions - Dagon could count them on one hand, and a mutilated one at that - they had even won that argument with the Archangel that wasn’t an angel anymore. 

But judging from Beelzebub’s expression as they stared at the file, sprawled on their throne, that probably wouldn’t be the case. They were glaring at it as though they were trying to make it catch fire with the sheer force of will - which happened just now, as the folder burst in flames. The Prince of Hell extinguished them with an impatient wave of their hand and kept reading. The scowl kept deepening.

As the Lord of the Files, Dagon couldn’t stand by and watch a… well, a file risk being destroyed in a fit of anger. “... Perhaps I can help, my Lord. Is there any information you’re looking for?”

“Yes. Anything about this mortal’s sister,” they snapped, turning the pages. “Anything of use.”

“If both our men and Heaven confirmed there is no file to be found about her, then perhaps she really never exist-- huh. My Lord?”

No answer. Lord Beelzebub - Prince of Hell, Lord of the Flies and so forth - had stilled entirely staring at the file, the scowl replaced by a stunned expression that was, in turn, slowly replaced by something else. Comprehension.

“... Lord Beelzebu--” Dagon began, and trailed off with a wince when the Prince of Hell tore off one page and let the rest of the folder fall unceremoniously on the ground. A sudden flare of fire, a cloud of sulphur, and they were gone - leaving yet another scorch mark on their throne and a smoldering pile of ash where the folder containing an accurate list of Daniel Brown’s sins had been only moments earlier.

*** 

"GABRIEL!"

The mug of hot cocoa Gabriel had just picked up - a gift from Aziraphale, that cocoa, and he had to admit it was growing on him as a substitute for the fifth mug of coffee - fell from his hands to shatter on the floor, splattering hot liquid across his bare shins. He yelped, both at the sting and out of surprise, heart jumping somewhere in his throat. A ball of fire suddenly erupting before you while someone bellows your name will do that. 

"Jesus Christ!"

"No, it's me-- don't you ever insult me like that again," Beelzebub said, scowling, and slapped something down on the kitchen counter - a piece of parchment burnt at the edges. "I know why we couldn't find the mortal's sister."

Gabriel looked back, stunned, the scowl gone and the sting already in the back of his mind. "You do? How? What did you find out?"

"He never had a sister."

That... made no sense. "Are you sure? Daniel said… but why? Why would he lie--"

"He didn't lie. He just thought he had one."

"... I'm afraid I'm not following. Are you telling me he hallucinated her, or--" Gabriel began, only to trail off when Beelzebub quite literally slapped him with the piece of parchment. 

"Shut your mouth and just read this, idiot. Daniel Brown’s sins. Well, the relevant part.”

He did shut his mouth, and he did read. It was indeed a list of sins - a young boy’s sins, small things, irrelevant things - lied to his mother over a broken window, copied his math homework, chased pigeons - up to one that was bolded and underlined, a serious sin for that young age. Gabriel read it, and his eyes widened. He read it again, just to be sure, mouth falling open.

Homophobia, hateful speech and rejection of his brother.

For a few moments, Gabriel stared. He suddenly felt… rather stupid for not thinking of that possibility. It made so much sense, now that the key piece of the puzzle had fallen into place. Daniel had thought he had a sister; what he truly had was a brother who hadn’t stuck around to make him aware of the mix-up.

Daniel never knew. He was looking for someone who only exists in his memories.

“... His name is no longer Alison Brown,” Gabriel muttered, looking up. “That explains everything. But… shouldn’t former names remain on record?”

“Former names, yes. Deadnames, no. Those vanish from the records the second they are abandoned - we have standards, you know,” Beelzebub said, looking slightly offended. “It’s the same in Heaven, I assume? They couldn’t find any records of this Alison, either. We were searching for a mortal woman, after all, while we should have been looking for a man all along.”

“Ah-- right, yes. Yes, it is,” Gabriel said, and looked down again. It had been him, after all, to insist that the forms matched in Heaven and Hell. “All right, this is… this is something.”

“Just something? This changes everything.”

“We still don’t know his name, though, and--”

“The surname might have stayed the same. I shall task Dagon to search the archive for every man born in Plymouth in the time frame you provided whose surname was Brown.”

“... I understand it is a common surname.”

“No matter. We’ll find him, so he can know his stupid brother was sorry, get his stupid closure, go to his stupid funeral if he wants, and you can get your stupid conscience to shut up.”

That seemed… a solid plan, Gabriel supposed, at least on account of being the only possible plan. He smiled. “That would be very kind of yo-- ow!”

“If you know what’s good for you, you will not dare finish that sentence.”

“Right, right. My apologies,” Gabriel muttered, rubbing his arm. “Oww, that hurt.”

“Good,” Beelzebub replied, sitting on the table. “For the record, I am obviously not doing this for free - let alone out of kindness,” they spat out the word like it left a rotten taste in their mouth. “I still expect you to hold your half of the bargain. Speaking of which, was there any progress?”

“I… well… the thing is...”

“I tried to warn you.”

“Join our cause.”

“Abandon this folly!”

You can’t miss someone you don’t remember.

Ah, but would bringing back the memories be the wise thing to do? It was a can of worms Gabriel wasn’t sure he was ready to open, a truth he wasn’t sure he was ready to acknowledge. Would it not be easier to let the sleeping dogs lie? Take the path of least resistance once more, as he’d always done, letting all uncomfortable thoughts sink into oblivion before they could breed doubt in his mind?

Old habits are hard to die.

“... All right, I’ll bite. What’s with the face journey?”

Gabriel recoiled, looking up. Somehow, he’d managed to pretty much forget that the Lord of the Flies just so happened to be sitting on his table. “Huh?”

“You changed expression six times in less than twenty seconds, and each one was dumber than the one before. What’s going on?”

“Ah, er-- nothing. Nothing at all.”

Somehow, Gabriel suspected that was not the most convincing lie he ever told. To be entirely fair, he had… very little experience telling straightforward lies. At most, he would simply… omit information that wasn’t strictly necessary. Or tell a lie that wasn’t even a lie, because the person he was speaking with knew exactly how things really were

I'm sure there's a perfectly innocent explanation.

Would you have any objection to me following this up using back channels?

There are no back channels, Michael.

Beelzebub’s eyes narrowed. “You are going to hold your half of the bargain, are you not?” they buzzed, a handful of different threatening notes to their voice.

Gabriel held up his hands in a defensive gesture. “Of course, of course! I just-- apologies. There has been a lot going on, and--” he cleared his throat. “I will keep my word,” he added, trying to to evaluate whether trying to lie to the Prince of Hell was a wise option - or even an option at all.

At least for the time being, however, it seemed to work: Beelzebub nodded, placated.

“Very well. I’ll get to the bottom of this, and then I will expect you to keep your word. And if you so much think of taking it back--” a snap of their fingers, a burst of flames, and they were gone. Gabriel wasn’t sure whether the fire was meant to be a threat or simply their normal way to leave, but he supposed it was probably both. 

Well, decision time was delayed, at least.

With a sigh, Gabriel looked back down at the piece of parchment Beelzebub had brought him, read it over again, and finally put it down. He wondered what Daniel would think once he knew. All those years looking for a sister he rejected, without knowing that the person he remembered was no more - maybe had never been. Gabriel would find his brother for him, but it wouldn’t be the person Daniel thought he was. Then again, after a lifetime apart, he would have found himself facing a stranger either way. Unlike angels, who always remained true to themselves, a notable exception aside and Fallen notwithstanding, human beings changed. That, he’d learned.

Would Daniel be happy to meet his brother? Or would he be disappointed? Gabriel wasn’t even certain Daniel’s brother would want to be found, that he would want to come to his funeral at all. Maybe he’d burned all bridges behind him, and had no intention to waste time on someone who rejected him and whom he only remembered as an angry boy. It had been so long since they last saw each other.

“I know you,” he’d said once to a Virtue known as Ba’al.

“No,” they had replied. “You do not.”

Why bring back those memories? Why now? There was no point to it, nothing it could possibly change. What if there had been someone named Ba’al, a long time ago, whom he’d cared for deeply? What if they had cared for him? That was then and this was now. Ba’al the Virtue was no more, and neither was Gabriel the Archangel. 

They were not the same beings anymore.

***

(Okay, so I lied. It wasn't Where In The World Is Carmen Sandiego. It was Where's Wally all along.)

***

Then the Lord said to Cain, “Where is Abel, your brother?” He said, “I do not know; am I my brother’s keeper?” -- Genesis 4:9

***

[Back]

[Next]

[tongue-tied-ties]

I finally got through all 200,000 words of that freaking epilogue and GOD HAVE MERCY I SHOULD HAVE WENT CANDY AND THEN MEAT.

Overall though, I like it. I like it alot! I mean there are some things I feel weird about which like.......aren’t the things everyone else feels weird about apparently.

SPOILERS BELOWWWWW~!!!!

So it’s alot easier to get out of the way what I am weirded out about than to explain the many things I did like. 

- I feel weird about the xenophobia thing and how it’s being treated. Like it’s being treated like a huge issue but like non-issue all at once?? I guess that’s because from John’s perspective he’s just too busy being weirded out or suffering to truly get involved. Like I sincerely hope nobody on the team thinks standing by in a situation like this is a valid stance in any way. But it also happens in real life so like, I get it. I think this bothers me because these kids were heroes. But also they were heroes out of necessity and because they were main characters. Like that’s honestly it. They had a mission and fulfilled it and they were hailed as heroes.

- Hussie presenting xenophobia as both a joke and a serious issue and sometimes it’s hard to tell what position the comic is trying to take which makes me uncomfortable. 

- I think it’s in character, but I hate that Karkat alone had to defend himself every time Jane was being the #worstTM. I hate that Roxy just standing by knowing good and well these are the stakes every single time was never fully addressed. I wish somebody sat our beautiful bae Roxy to let them know that like this is shitty too?? Like you saying this is simply politics when a literal extinction is happening is shitty why didn’t anyone tell them that in stone cold, super serious terms for the love of GOD it bothered me so much. 

- Alright anytime Dirk used any sort of like reddit NiceGuy Are you triggeredTM 4-chan bullshit language it turned me all the way off. Like incel, beta, cuck?? Misgendering our void icon?? Yea. Cancelled but also not cancelled because I haven’t been this shook or excited over a villain in so long.

- Gamzee. Just...yikes all around. I’m not sure how I feel.

- JAKE DESERVED BETTER. HE REALLY FREAKING DID JUST SAYING. JAKE DIDNT DESERVE THIS MADNESS. Omfg i never hated anyone as much as I did Dirk when he snapped Jake’s psyche in half forcing him to love Dirk. It was so fucking iconic though and I’m still mad y’all. So many feelings. Oh god and when Jane like........did him wrong?? What le fuck? Jake i’ll be your friend, come here mate. Please let me hug my boi who I didn’t stan before but i stan now.

- Those kids.....I love those kids give them a good future, please. I’m begging hussie let John be a good father.

- I think the kids grew because they were with each other, and they fact they didn’t stay together and let each other be isolated kinda makes this make sense to me but it does feel like with some characters the growth went out the window. But also....people can regress especially if they stop after like one epiphany or whatever, so I see how this happened.

- Dave redirecting what should have been the core political issue (freaking extinction/controlled population of exclusively the trolls) to the economy every single time. Like Dave baby you were never the most racially sensitive dude (coming from a black girl who watched you say negrocity, call black people not shining shoes revolutionary (which could be read as irony in context but still) in the same rap, which, YIKES!) but like try please?? Hussie freaking fix this.

- I oddly feel weird about them getting rid of their flesh bodies for their ultimate forms and I’m not sure why but I honestly don’t want all bots. I can’t even explain that in a way that makes sense.

- Jade. Like....everything she did was a big yikes and honestly I’m reading the main story again to see if there was a character trait that led to her behavior. Cuz Dirk literally always had an overbearing personality and it was never truly addressed leading to what happened. Jane never really stopped with the whole business and control thing and she never really seemed to care for the trolls one way or another so I can kinda see it.

- Honestly?? I’m happy for the form of happiness that some characters had but MAN was it just the slowest most excruciating march towards that end. In candy, it felt like I was literally feeling John’s twilight-zone stir-crazy rise up in me as I read through. I think a “benefit” from reading Meat first is that like.....damn I ended up agreeing with Dirk. Like all of this shit was largely avoided and addressed sooner when Dirk was in charge and I hate/love that I’m saying this! Like what the hell y’all that's so brilliant to me. In Meat, I just.....wanted them to be free to make their own choices and when I was nearing the end in Candy, I realized they weren’t so damn isolated and I was happy that some of them finally got to heal.

To segue into I liked it starts on the same point my dislikes end.

 - I felt so frustrated by everything that was happening which.....dear God is great writing because if I was John feeling this for years instead of the solid day it took me to get through Candy I’d be handling it way worse than John. I almost wished that Dirk would come in and take charge because they were just.....fucking up on every level. With Meat, I wanted what was in Candy and I wanted them to have their fucking free will to choose instead of these awful circumstances Dirk forced them to be in.

- DAVE. DAVE. DAVE. Fuck I love dave just so much, he felt the most home to me the entire time. When he fought back in Meat to make his own choices I was so proud of him. When he decided to join the revolution I was proud of him, when he finally admitted he was gay I was proud of him. When he just existed and seriously thought about what he wanted and needed to work through he felt like he authentically was trying to figure himself out the entire time in both Meat and Candy and I was so proud of him. Honestly will always have my heart.

- NUBS MCSHOUTY. From awkward bottom to rebel leader he is just a breath of fresh air every time he speaks because it is always a freaking mood. LIke yes, the extinction of your people is awful and you should say it. Yes, people who stand by and just sidetrack the conversation into semantics is awful and you should freaking say it. Yes! Yes! Yes! omfg. YOU ABSOLUTE FREAKING ICON

- Dirk. I.....ugh I know this is controversial but I love everything that happened. Our Dear walking God complex becomes literal God and it all goes to hell. Our friend the control freak, controlling the narrative when he reaches his ultimate form. Ou dear Dirk who always needs something to fix horribly fixes the narrative. When he revealed himself and said “but you already know that don’t you” in his iconic yellow text color me FREAKIN SHOOK. Like literary reveal of the gods (specifically this god ha). Nothing will shake me the same holy shit I was horrified and the horror never stopped. Omfg shook Dirk just freaking shook. So since I read meat first I was like “holy cow was he always like this?” But like, the one dirk that was decent freaking killed himself with his last wish being for relevance and like.....of course he’s like this?? It’s Hal, Caliborn, ARDirk, Brain Ghost Dirk and Dirk One who honestly was only half decent most of the time. All of these pretentious beings in one? Oh yea edge lord self masturbatory train dead ahead. AND I LOVED IT, the absolute fear and horror as he took the narrative back from Calliope was horrifying, his increasing disdain after the reveal, the moment he forced Jake to fuck everything up for the resistance was ICONIC oh my god I was so here. I was loving it so much I was scared I was being controlled by Dirk.

- Jake was always passive and like.....it manifested so bad. I mean I thought he stepped up when he finally, defeated the felt crew but like....of course, one battle isn’t going to solve a lifetime of posing and passivity. I don’t know why I never considered the horrible implications. I do wish he grew a full spine in one of the epilogues.

- Regardless of how I perceived her in canon, Epilogue!Jane was never painted as a hero ever. THANK GOD cuz Epilogue Jane is doing some really bad stuff.

- Roxy - our voidey babe exploring their gender identity and deciding in both that they don’t care for their assignment in some way, valid. Having all stages of their identity and the stages respected (in what I viewed as a great and fully addressed way as a cis black girl) is surprisingly refreshing when I look at Roxy alone and not the transphobic stuff Dirk was doing which was icky and Caliborn-ish.

- Rose and Kanaya being happy in Candy. Like it seemed so OOC but Rose also was literally dealing with something that ENTIRE TIME. When she was little it was the alcoholism of her mother, when she was in paradox space it was from horror demons to literal death, to life-threatening situations to being the seer she needed, to her own substance problem etc etc. Being non-essential freed her from that and we got to witness her still be the badass, freedom fighter she became. And I just love the thing she chose without needing to, without absolute necessity, was to raise their daughter AND fully immerse themselves in troll revolution against an oppressive regime. Fuck yes Rose, you deserve some fucking peace without debilitation or circumstance. Rose in Meat shall never be spoken of because that is so so so sad honestly. She was dying and like...Dirk took advantage of that which is tactically freaking genius considering Rose is usually who can pull these dorks together into action but damn Dirk.

- Fuck you know what I’m gonna say it. Dirk is the best villain holy shit he is honestly, truly smart and manipulative and somehow charming in this sick sick way God I hate/love him right now. I’m.....omfg still shook.

- I honestly just loved how intertwined it is, how twilight-zone/gritty it felt. Every literary craving I didn’t know I was having was fed and in the best/worst way. I’m hooked and here for wherever this is going. Also, I typed it above and I’ll type it again. I didn’t realize it but these kids, while they ascended as Gods were not heroes. I don’t think the kids really cared about their denizens much ever in canon. They fulfilled their mission and we handed them the hero stamp because we’ve followed their story. They are simply people who had a mission to fulfill and did that mission in whatever capacity you choose. They are ultimately really flawed human beings who were traumatized to hell and back with no real devices on how to deal with it properly. Of course, when you give flawed humans God powers, a world to rule over and nobody really holding anyone accountable bad things are bound to happen. They grew because they were in a situation where they had to and they were removed too soon for them to keep that growth. Fanfic or not, canon or not, essential or not, I think these are valid outcomes, within the context of who they are.

[killinbills]

hi! i’m currently struggling with the summary for my fic like i don’t want to make it boring with barley anything but i also don’t wanna i reveal everything (did that even make sense¿) any advice?

(this was sent weeks ago and im so sorry it took me so long to respond!!)

right ok so, when i write a summary, in the first summary i make sure to introduce the main character especially. (im gonna use clueless, morningstar, and ruby ruby as an example) (the only reason im using a few is bc i want to show that there are lots of different ways of writing a summary, it really depends on the story)

this is super long so read under the cut xo

CLUELESS: OK, SO, BRIAR CANNOT STRESS THIS ENOUGH — she did not mean to act out the second she stepped foot in Beauxbatons, her grandparents deciding that Hogwarts (for ‘reasons unknown’) was no longer good enough for her and her little brother. She did not mean to find out that her grandparents had forced her and her brother out of the country to avoid them from meeting their father, who had become the newest D.A.D.A. professor… Nor did she mean to get so angry by this that she, well, gave her best friends a run for their money. Fireworks lighting up the dining hall, statues transfigured to resemble David Bowie — everything she remembered her best friends talking about doing, she did, putting her own twist on it (hence David Bowie… and Freddie Mercury… and ABBA…)

MORNINGSTAR: HERE’S THE DEAL — Isabelle Oswald is, sort-of, a changeling. The daughter of the devil given to a human man, a rich lawyer in the Upper East Side, who couldn’t have another kid. Her best friend Riley says that it isn’t really a changeling, more like a demon, but anyway. All Isabelle knows is that she’s pretty much a vampire, swap the blood-sucking for a general need to feed off of energy. And she supposes that’s where her 'birth name’ came from, Moroi Morningstar, but again, whatever. The main issue on the table isn’t so much Isabelle’s weird, but rather, Isabelle doesn’t have to be evil, so she isn’t going to — like, sure, her birth father was a fallen angel, but that doesn’t mean she is. It’s the same as those creeps that are half-angel. (The only saint she needs is Laurent, thanks!)

RUBY, RUBY: RUBY SULLIVAN likes to do the right thing — and she knows this sounds like bullshit, what with associating herself with Carol and Tommy, but for some reason her best friend Steve likes them and that’s enough for her to stomach them. But she likes to do good. Her dad always says stuff about karma and Ruby hopes that if she’s good to the world, the world will be good back… And by “good back,” she means that she’ll get into a good college, or at least find a way to escape Hawkins… And maybe, along the way, Ruby will be able to finally stand up for herself…

so in the first paragraph, i’ve introduced the main character and the situation that they’re in. it’s not so much the actual plot, but like, it’s some background on the character and what’s going on, and also it gives the readers an idea of where the story’s going to start. also, if when you’re writing about what’s going on with your character, if you can find the opportunity to mention other details

eg

“the newest D.A.D.A. professor” = remus is briar’s dad, and “her best friends a run for their money” = if you’re a fan of hp you can gather she’s friends with the twins

“she’s pretty much a vampire” then the specifics introduce isabelle’s powers, and the description about her dad and her origin also explain what’s going on. also, you’re introduced to her best friend riley, and although she’s introduced anyway in the actual story and you don’t need to introduce every single character, riley is important and by having her in the intro puts some emphasis on that

“likes to do the right thing” so ok you know ruby’s motivation already, but also the fact that she’s friends with carol, tommy, and steve. with “escape hawkins” and “stand up for herself,” you can also gather that in this story, you’re gonna have a character that wants to leave her hometown and wants to stand up for themselves (a lot of this does focus more on my next point tho)

then, this is optional, but if possible, you can introduce the character’s personality and, uh, character. obviously this depends on your writing style and whether or not when you’re writing the summary you can add it in without it sound strange, but if possible, introduce the readers to your character. (it’s not like u want them to read a whole story about them)

examples:

from clueless you can gather that briar’s rebellious but also what music she likes. tbh this summary doesn’t show this point as much as the others but that’s okay!! sometimes one summary will have lots of background or introducing the character’s personality and sometimes it won’t!! it depends on the story you’re writing!!

for izzy however, you can get her personality. the informal language (”kid,” “blood-sucking,” “those creeps”) kinda give the sense that izzy’s the opposite of serious, and again that sort of language in a way shows izzy’s age a little? also, the same goes with the “but whatever,” and “but anyway.” like izzy as a character is quite carefree and bubbly. and then, with “the only saint she needs is laurent, thanks!” introduces a couple of things: izzy makes remarks, izzy is rich (bc she’s mentioning a luxury brand like it’s a brand she’s accustomed to), and izzy can be materialistic. like. the only saint she needs is laurent. she’s what madonna was singing about in material girl likeee

with ruby it’s a lot more obivous, and also a lot more stressed? so like in the intro to ruby ruby it shows: ruby wants to do the right thing (so her morals), ruby’s an optimistic character (”she hopes”), and she wants to stand up for herself. because with ruby ruby, the full introduction introduces all of the sullivans, the paragraph for each character was sort of more “yo this is this one” and much less of “this is the full story.” for ruby ruby, the full story’s introduced a lot more in the final paragraph

normally when i write a introduction i stick to two paragraphs and then maybe one sentence right at the end, which often becomes the short summary for the full thing. so in the second paragraph, i introduce the plot. not all of it, but enough to get a reader interested.

CLUELESS: But things take a turn at the end of the school year, when Madame Maxime pulls her aside and informs her of the Triwizard Tournament, a game where Beauxbatons competes against Durmstrang Institute and Hogwarts. And, in the words of Madame Maxime herself — “the school will burn down if I leave you here, so, you are coming, too.”

Fair enough.

MORNINGSTAR: The thing is, though — Isabelle doesn’t want to become a superhero. There are lots of other ways to improve the world, and if anything, she wishes she could keep her powers as hidden as possible. But, when things start to go upside down, it becomes a lot less difficult to stay secret. More and more monsters begin cropping up in her side of the woods, girls from her high school are disappearing left, right, and centre, with the explanation of “We want Morningstar” — and to top it off, her heart skips a beat every time she runs into the kid called Spiderman, even though they’ve managed to be on opposite ends of the civil war between the Avengers…

Life’s hard when you’re the devil’s daughter.

RUBY, RUBY: So when Will Byers goes missing, both Ruby and Lisa are thrown into the deep end. Whilst Ruby’s helping his older brother Jonathan, Lisa’s forced to speak to her own friends again, upon noticing the weird girl that she and Ruby helped escape from the restaurant earlier that week. And now, both girls are living up to their parents’ life lesson of “the most important thing is being good,” even if it means they’re hurtling towards the life their parents escaped from all those years ago…

normally it starts with, “so when this happens,” and it won’t introduce all of the plot, but it’ll introduce part of it.

like, with clueless, in the intro you learn that briar’s going back to hogwarts. you don’t know she becomes a werewolf, you don’t know that she starts to have doubts about preferring hogwarts to beauxbatons, a lot of the plot is unknown, but there’s still enough for a reader to like the sounds of it, and keep on reading.

same with morningstar. it carries on the explaining from the first paragraph but then, you find out that monsters are appearing (but not which ones) and that girls are going missing because someone wants isabelle, but you don’t know why. the stuff’s introduced, in enough detail for a reader to be interested, and then i introduced the love interest. like your readers don’t need to know every single detail off the bat, just enough to be interested

then with ruby ruby. ruby and her little sister are going to be involved with the main story in stranger things. you know who they’ll be hanging out with, but you don’t really know why, nor do you know the rest of the details. at the end i mentioned that their parents were connected with the upside down at one point, but you don’t know what they actually did. just that they were involved. it’s just enough for the reader to be like, “oh shit” and want to read the actual chapters

so, in summary:

introduce your character (because it’s that kid that’s gonna attract readers at the end of the day)

introduce the plot but not in much detail. just enough for readers to be intrigued

make sure the intro reflects upon the story like,,,, don’t give me a fun introduction when the actual story is sad and serious u know

i know it’s super difficult to actually write a summary but i try to keep things in mind when i’m writing mine. like i always want to make sure that the introduction properly reflects upon the story and the character. and again, a lot of the stuff i talked about i don’t make sure to include, it’s more like, i’ll be conscious of the words i’m using when i’m writing it. also a lot of my intros are pretty informal but that’s because my narrative style’s definitely influenced by reading too much meg cabot and lisi harrison when i was little lmao

also!! when you’re writing a summary don’t be afraid to have a look at others. like don’t copy them but look at how different people have written them. like even with three of mine, there’s some variety. there’s no harm in reading others to get a feel of what to write yourself

hope this helps!! :-)

ask me questions!!

also: clueless, morningstar, ruby ruby

[lonelypond]

Moonlight Becomes You: Apocalypse Midnight Dance Party, Ch. 5

Love Live, Love Live Sunshine, NicoMaki, 3K, 5/?

Touched By The Divine

Yoshiko was on the roof, leaning against the chimney, flicking her fingers to spark. The wind was picking up and teasing the feathers of her wings. Goosebumps on her bare arms, Yoshiko stepped forward, sweeping her arms out in a T, wings unfurled and unhidden, angelic sight seeing multiple futures in the clouds that were piling up, drawn to this moment, gray covering white, wisps of almost black like a fist closing around a treasure. Almost her dream, but aeromancy was never an exact science for Yoshiko. She could gather mood and threat and promise from the weather, but only the most background tones. Dreams and other tools would fill in too few blanks on days like today, days when the wind shrieked omens in a language Yoshiko could not heed…

“Yohane is a mere vessel, humble before the majesty of the heavens and her fate, open to the trumpets of Fate, to summon the wisdom of her prophet.” Yoshiko knelt, head bowed in a suppliant posture, then she pulled out an embroidered black silk bag, opening and tilting it, scattering dice sized from 4 sides to 100, orange fires flickering deep in the blood red resin, and Yoshiko’s eyes closed as if they had slammed into her gut.

“No, not now, there’s too many signs, but Yohane can see it, there, a future disappearing unless…” Yoshiko grabbed a random dice, throwing it, ears pricked for the sound as it rolled across the roof, the skips were the message, not the number, as her eyes followed a blue gray twist of storm threatening as thunder began to cry. Yoshiko opened herself up to the wind, to the darks, to the rising air, to the gravity that pulled her downward from her ancient home, and her mouth wide, the words screamed out, punching through time and space, ruffling angel feathers, bloodying demon horns...Yoshiko was no more, Yohane screamed and swooped, her ears melted back into her skull as protection against the voice of the divine that chose this moment to speak through her, to scar eternity with a warning, to wake the future in the hope of avoiding the woe now shadowing all the souls of Yohane’s earthly domain.

“Mothers Love, and the same…” Yoshiko muttered, and then with another cry rose higher, “Lili, it makes no sense...but you know her, there...and she’s her mother…” Yoshiko’s wings drove her higher, her screams raw and frustrated, “LILI!”

MEANWHILE, IN THE FUTURE THE LIBERALS WANT

It was happening again. The voice, the swoop of wings, the screamed “Lili” shoving through her brain like a flood through a flimsy, windblown leaf dam. Sakurauchi Riko pushed back from the piano she was composing at, on her feet, hands gripping the body of the piano as if she could pick it up and toss it through the window of her Los Angeles studio. Right hand gripping to funnel the pain of the explosion in her head into the wood, her left grabbed a pencil and scribbling quickly the first words and notes that came into her head across the sheet of music paper. She’d learned it was the only way to clear this mood, to let herself see “Yohane” flying up toward Heaven, huge dark wings beating madly, mouth open wide, frenzied, frantic, ears bloody, then watch the angel fall down from the heights, again, crying out words only the sky and Riko could hear…

Riko had no idea how she’d found that bookstore, but she’d been in search of a rare doujinshi and it had suddenly popped up in her search result. The owner, Hanamaru, sounded confused, but shy and sweet, and while the demand that Riko appear at the shop at an incredibly specific time was unusual, Riko had decided to assume whimsy and shown up. And then SHE had swept through, while Hanamaru was serving Riko tea, shadows of magnificent wings hovering behind her, purple eyes weeping spectral fire, muttering, seemingly unaware that anyone might be caught in her wake. And then Hanamaru had spilled some tea on Riko’s hand, coughed, “Guest” and when Riko glanced up, a tall woman with jet black hair in a side bun and guilty, unshining purple eyes, hands shoved in the pocket of her biker jacket, jeans torn, tank top paint spattered was staring at her.

“I didn’t see you.” It was a bleat of confusion, not an apology.

Hanamaru was chiding, “I left you a note. Ms. Sakurauchi is here about that rare manga. She is also a Tokyo native transplanted here to Los Angeles.”

“Well not so much transported as occasionally travelling here for business. I’m a producer. For music.” Riko was as nervous as a first date, except first dates had never involved wanting to scratch off your ears because they were burning. Riko found herself rubbing them with her knuckles. Both Hanamaru and the biker looked concerned. The biker had reached into her pocket for a crystal, which she held out to Riko.

“Have you seen this?” The question was gentle and Riko shook her head, drawn to the color, almost amethyst, that seemed to be sparking with an internal luminescence. It was restful, like watching fireflies at dusk in a hidden field.

When Riko looked up, Hanamaru was alone and the crystal was on the table.

“Do you have lucid dreams?” Hanamaru asked suddenly, her voice sharper.

Was this bookstore a front for something? Riko hadn’t smoked anything since college, but…

“I’m not interested in…I’ll have a beer sometimes but.. .”

Hanamaru was suddenly flustered, “No no no. That’s not what I meant...at all…” Hanamaru poured herself some more tea with shaky hands, Riko suspected it was merely a delaying tactic while the bookstore owner figured out what to say, “Yoshiko…” Hanamaru pointed to a space near Riko, as if the other woman were still standing there, “just thinks you might be sensitive to…” Hanamaru sighed, her voice picking up a rustic accent, “I grew up in a temple, zura, my grandparents were very pious, and I learned, sometimes, there are people who are…” Hanamaru’s amber eyes were innocent and kind, Riko felt an instinctive trust, “open to the divine.”

Riko smiled, relaxing. “I think I know what you mean. When I was a child, we visited the Ōura Church in Nagasaki, and I wouldn’t leave. I told my mother there were angels flying around and I was going to stay until one of them landed and talked to me.”

“You can leave now.” Hanamaru muttered, closing her eyes.

“Huh?” Riko had been about to reach for her tea cup.

Hanamaru shivered, “The gods have strange plans for all of us, zura.” Hanamaru pushed the crystal at Riko. “If you ever...hear or see...things you don’t understand, hold this in your hand, over your heart and wait.”

“What do you mean?” Riko could feel her ease turn into suspicion.

Hanamaru stood, bowing politely, “I have another appointment; I’ll have to ask you to leave. Let me wrap the manga for you.”

Riko stumbled as she rose, trying to follow the store owner, “But we haven’t discussed payment. I’m waiting for a royalty check right now but I can…”

Hanamaru gestured, waving a hand dismissively, “Consider it small compensation for the inconvenience we have caused.”

We? This afternoon was getting crazier and crazier, Riko starting to wonder if there weren’t some kind of questionable incense at work in the air and she’d wake up at home with a bad headache and all of her bank accounts hacked.

The wrapped book was in her hand, Hanamaru had maneuvered her through the door, and the last things Riko heard before the door shut solidly behind her, “Hand over your heart.”

In the five years since, many odd things had happened to Riko, but slowly unravelling the stories of Yoshiko and Hanamaru had been the spine running through them all. Humming the tune that was weaving together all the chords and sharps from her latest vision, Riko reached into her bag for the crystal. She had decided, 5 years ago, that being flicked with the divine, scarred by a burning brush with the celestial aura that still clung to Yohane, had been MEANT. To have seen one of the angels she’d spent her childhood dreaming about, to have literally been brushed by a spark of divine fire...surely that had been fated. She could do without the headaches though and being haunted by visions of Yohane’s ageless eyes swooping nearer, but those visions had lessened when Riko started staring regularly into a different pair of purple eyes, those of her writing partner and lover, Kazuno Sarah. That was a purely mortal thrill, one Riko could melt into in a very delicious, very very of this plane experience that she preferred to repeat as often as possible. Which meant, right now, getting Yohane’s latest prophecy out where Hanamaru could deal with it.

She glanced down at the paper...daughter of the Princess and the Star, someone she knew? Grabbing her bag, she reached for the crystal, focusing on the song that was creating itself in her head. And then suddenly, Yohane’s deepest tones reverberated everywhere, “NOW.”

###

Kurasawa Dia hated flying. It wasn’t so bad when Ruby and Leah were with her, or her mothers, they always needed Dia to help them organize something. How they had ever managed before Dia was old enough to take care of everything they missed, Dia could not figure out. And she’d tried. What were they like before Dia? Had Mama always been so prone to shrug off schedules and conflicts and glare at everyone who wanted NicoTime™️ when they were in Los Angeles. Had her momma always been so prone to pile on 5000 things to do before Dia and Ruby were born? Dia had become firmly convinced at the age of 5 that Ruby would be lost with the luggage on the way to one of Nico’s movie sets if it weren’t for her. So she’d grown up raising Ruby, teaching her, keeping her safe while their parents attracted crowds and coverage EVERY time they spent time in LA. Finally, when Ruby reached school age and was getting more anxious every year, her mothers had decided to move their family to a small, seaside town in Japan, changing their name, and disappearing from public view as much as possible with Nico still shooting films. Dia had approved. Ruby thrived in Numazu.

Ruby had grown up nicely, thanks mostly to Dia’s influence, and surprising everyone, fallen in love with a fellow school Idol and decided to go pro as a singer after high school. She and Kazuno Leah were adorable together, on stage and off, Saint Smile topping the charts a couple of times a year. LA was a second home for them and their songwriting team, Leah’s sister Sarah and her girlfriend, Sakurauchi Riko. Dia was industriously working on her medical degree in Japan, aiming to take over the Nishikino family business from her grandparents. But right now, she was on a vacation to see Ruby and Leah’s new tour kick off in LA. And Ruby was meeting her at the airport.

Out of customs, a tall, dark haired woman caught her eye. A chauffeur’s cap was tilted at a rakish angle over worried, amethyst eyes, and as tall as the woman was, she seemed to curl and uncurl in a series of nervous fidgets that couldn’t help drawing Dia’s attention. The driver was holding a sign with ‘Kurosawa Dia’ scrawled on it. Dia reached into her pocket to check her phone. No message from Ruby...had something happened?

Dia stood as tall as she could after the cramping of a flight from Tokyo and hurried to confront the woman, “Can I help you?”

“Kurosawa Dia, daughter of Nishikino Maki and Yazawa Nico?” A close examination, too close, Dia could have bitten off the tip of the woman’s nose.

Dia started to panic. Had something happened to her mothers? Was that what the growing unease in her stomach, the queasiness was some kind of weird reaction to? Had she flown through a quiet night into a day with dire news. Her voice quivered as she snapped out questions, “I left them in Japan? Did something happen? Are they all right? Is there a tsunami?”

“Oh good, I was worried I wouldn’t be able to find you.” A clawing hand gripped Dia’s arm with a bruising strength and started to drag her away from the crowds.

“Hey, let me go! BZZZT” Dia barked.

Her kidnapper stopped, whirled, not letting go of Dia’s arm, and eyes that Dia would swear had the sudden glint of golden flames captured her complete attention, “Come with me if you want to love.”

Dia dug in her heels, “What the hell?”

The kidnapper started to stutter, as she curled into the tightest ball a person could and still be standing, “I mean...welllll...there’s a chance that…” then, drawing in a huge breath, she uncurled, taller than Dia, strange shadows above her shoulders, eyes aflame, “Yohane commands you to FOLLOW.”

And Dia only heard the echo of “FOLLOW” and the airport rushed by, people falling away and sounding like the Chipmunks arguing over Christmas presents, and dark and fog was falling as the earth rose up with a crack and then everything dropped away and Dia had no mass, as if a feather had touched her and infected her with its airiness, and the queasy feeling in her stomach was worse, nearly bringing up a lunch from two days ago, the disorientation as bad as it had been the time she’d snuck onto a roller coaster she was too small for and once again there was nothing underneath her feet and she was yelling for her mothers and racing upwards….

Heavy, Dia felt heavy again, and aware, she looked up to see a dark silhouette, winged against the sun, blinding her, searing her retinas, and she hadn’t known she was on fire, but now the air was cool and she was still screaming and pain smacked into her back as water opened to claim her. She thrust her arms out, swallowing too much before she could end the scream and now it was a struggle to climb free of so much cold, wet weight pressing in on her and breathe.

THE NOW

Nico rolled to the right and Maki tore through the fabric of the cabana. Someone had fallen in the pool, screaming until the water choked them off, arms thrown out, grasping. Maki hit the water at the same time as Nico, both swimming to the distressed...woman. Not dressed for swimming. Maki tried to pull the woman toward her, Nico was fighting to get an arm around the stranger’s chest, fingers scraping her cheek as the woman struggled, now gasping for breath. A third person entered the pool, with a sharp command, “Keep her head above water. Get her to the side of the pool. She’ll grab onto anything. Watch out.”

“Yeah…” Nico muttered, now backstroking her way to the side of the pool, the woman slipping out of her grasp, Maki trying to hold the struggling swimmer afloat but having to fall back when a kick nearly connected with her eye. You swooped in, her arm overlapping Nico’s, her other hand bracing the torso, and two powerful kicks bringing them all to the side of the pool, while Maki pulled herself out to help the woman, who was shaking her head and coughing, still struggling to clear out water.

“You’re all right, just hang on.” You’s voice was crisp, “We can work our way over to the ladder.”

Maki, kneeling by the side of the pool, reached both arms down, “I can pull her up, if you help support her weight.”

Another coughing fit, and then “Ma..Ma...?” and more coughing as Maki looked increasingly confused.

Nico froze, her hand white where it gripped the pool edge.“You know Maki? Who are you?”

The woman, green eyes wide, turned her head to stare.

“Nico asked you a question. Who are you?” Nico’s voice got shrill, adrenaline and annoyance adding a tremble.

You was unprepared for the taller woman to suddenly become a dead weight, fainting and sliding back into the water, her wet hair clinging to You’s neck. For once, You couldn't manage calm as she readjusted her grip, Nico ducking under to help maneuver their rescue into a manageable position, “What the heck…Kanan, call 911 or something.”

But Kanan was in the water too. Counting the heads in front of her, Maki made a quick decision and ran back to the cabana, where she'd left her phone, "Get her out. I'll call."

Another cough, and the green eyes fluttered opened briefly, the voice wavery and uncertain, "Momma? I'm sorry."

"Did she hit her head?" Nico asked.

"Ambulance is on the way." Maki was back at poolside as You and Kanan hefted the unconscious woman out of the pool.

"Get a blanket or towel or something." Nico ordered, pulling herself up, shivering. "She'll be in shock."

You nodded, impressed at the return of Nico's calm. "Yes. Kanan, can you help?"

Kanan had her phone to her cheek, "Mari's on it."

"Good."

You let Kanan and the others deal with the rescued woman and paced a little to the side, searching the skies. She'd felt Yoshiko's presence, the tingle in the air, the darkening of the sun. What was the connection?

A/N: I gotta be me. Seems to be cliffhanger season. Hang in there...

[blue-likethebird]

Vee El Dee: The Good The Bad and The Ugly

If you’ve ever been on this hellsite, you’ve probably heard of Voltron: Legendary Defender. You’ll find the characters and the ships (and the discourse. Dear God the discourse) in tag after tag and on blog after blog. Now that the show has officially come to an end, I’m reviewing the whole damn thing. Talking about what I think worked, what didn’t, and what exactly the show did to make even the fans look at it so harshly now. (Just a warning “The Ugly” section discusses racism, and homophobia so if any of that triggers you I’d suggest you skip it)

Review under the cut

The Good

The Character Potential:

   Voltron’s characters had so much potential at the beginning. Their motivations, potential subplots, and clues to their arcs the first crew left us were actually interesting. How did Coran know Allura before they were frozen? What happened that caused Shiro to lose his arm? Is Lance going to reunite with his family? The show didn’t answer all of these questions mind you, but at the time they were introduced, those questions felt like they were worth sticking around to hear the answers.

The First Season:

   The first season is the only season that genuinely sticks out for me, way back in ye olden days when Voltron was a character driven show as opposed to plot focused. In season one, the plot took a backseat and the characters were what held up the show, and it’s probably not a coincidence that most of the character development and more emotional/memorable scenes occurred in season one, when there was time for the characters to develop. Likewise, the character focus allowed for everyone to get their day in the limelight -not just the characters who were valuable to the plot at the moment-.

The Balmera and The Return to The Balmera:

     I am never gonna be shy about my opinion that the Balmera arc is one of the strongest arcs that Voltron has had. Allura using the story of her people to inspire others and using Altea’s ancient connection to the Balmera to save an entire damn civilization! The goddamn adorable chemistry between Hunk and Shay! Believable suspense! Unlocking Lion Powers! The Balmera arc had it all and I was fed. Plus, Balmera gave us the introduction of the most blessed couple in Voltron history, hunay.

The Bad:

The Timeskips:

In theory, there’s nothing wrong with a timeskip. But you’ve gotta be able to show that the characters and show’s universe changed in some way during that timeskip and you can’t use them just to avoid actual story and character development. Take season six (? Or was it five? I don’t remember and I don’t wanna) when Keith and Krolia take a two year camping trip on a space whale while Voltron is off doing God knows what. Presumably during that time they developed some sort of mother-son relationship but we don’t get to see that development happening, or how that new relationship changed them, or really any proof that the timeskip happened at all besides Keith getting Galra marks and a teleporting space wolf. That particular time jump felt more like a cop-out to avoid writing Keith bonding with his mom.

Pacing:

To put it plainly, the pace is way too fast for anything to stick. The writing cycles from one season's worth of plot twists and WTF? moments to the next at the speed of light, leaving no time to address how the previous events affected the characters involved or not the show’s universe as a whole. So Lotor was actually evil all along and was using Allura to achieve his goals? Well there’s no time to mention how Allura feels about that, we’ve got three more surprise twists and a magic robot to shove into the plot! On the flip side however, the pacing is slower than a geriatric snail during fight scenes. The giant robot fights are usually the most exciting part of anything, but in Voltron, the fights are so formulaic that they just kinda… blur together into a boring fog. Lemme know if you can name this Voltron fight scene: the team’s fighting some random baddie, there’s a lot of yelling, someone gets a power up just big enough to defeat the current baddies when a bigger, eviler baddie appears who’s more powerful than the power up they just got, new baddie whoops Voltron’s ass, the support team watches in horror, someone else gets a power up that’s powerful enough to defeat the new bad guy, Voltron reins triumphant. What fight scene was that?

The Filler Episodes:

The fast pacing also means that they need to set aside breather episodes just to allow characters to interact besides in battle. That’s all well and good and there’s nothing wrong with filler episodes, if done right they can be some of the most memorable episodes a show can have (The Tales of Ba Sing Se anyone?) that is, if done right. But Voltron filler episodes don’t have that going for them. Filler episodes in vee el dee are an oasis of mud in the desert that is canon, they’re a generally unhelpful standstill point amidst a constantly changing series. I’ll admit that they can be funny at times but for the most part filler episodes are bizarre, unnecessary, and more often than not, poorly timed. If we just heard about a millenniums old empire folding in on itself and we’re just about to see a major character attempt suicide do we really need to see Coran go batshit while planning a space Disney On Ice?

The Ugly:

Racism:

#justiceforallura

I must confess that I am whiter than a polar bear in a snowstorm, but even I know that killing off a black girl (or black coded as the case may be), constantly torturing the Japanese guy, reducing the Samoan guy to food and fat jokes, and having the latino guy flirt with everyone before turning him into a farmer isn’t the best way to handle writing characters of colour. Denying said characters of colour arcs and screen time in favour of giving your white characters the same story in a different hat over and over again is also not the best treatment you can offer your poc characters. That’s not even mentioning other horrible treatment and stereotypes you’ll see the Voltron characters of colour experience. Let us also recall #notallgalra, the “what if the genocide victim was actually the bad guy” au mess in s3, all those “lol lance is stupid” jokes, the black character Kinkade speaking mainly in grunts, Allura dying to redeem the two genocidal dudes responsible for most of her trauma, and Hunk’s (half black half Samoan) family being enslaved at a fucking concentration camp like goddamn what the hell were you thinking Voltron that’s like hetalia levels of fucked up when we remember what kind of genuinely awful shit this show’s done to it’s minority characters.

Homophobia:

If you’re reading my review in the Voltron tag, and you watched the whole series, then there’s no way in hell that you haven’t heard about Adam dying and the backlash against Voltron for it. If you are somehow the .000001% of people who don’t know, Adam (a gay moc) was Shiro’s (another gay moc) fiancé who got a grand total of forty five seconds of screen time before dying when the Galra invaded earth. Meanwhile, L*tor and Allura’s relationship got almost triple that despite being abusive as fuck. But Shiro got married at the end of season 8! In a credits scene, to a guy in the background of a couple of scenes Shiro was also in. When lgbt fans expressed outrage at their rep being hyped up despite having no bearing on the plot or even Shiro as a character outside of one scene, instead of owning up to their mistakes, the crew of Vee El Dee said (or implied) that it was the fault of lgbt fans for hyping ourselves up. Yeah okay. Except after that we got confirmation that Ezor and Zethrid were a couple! Yay! Clearly a win for us El Gee Bee Tees right? Well… not really considering that both of them were depicted as psychotic torturers who also died a couple minutes later. Gotta love those crazy dead lesbians amirite?

Klance:

But why is klance in the “ugly” section!? You cry, I thought you were a klanti! I am an anti and I did ship klance but that’s not what I wanna talk about right now. When I put klance under ugly I wanted to discuss two things, the crew and the shippers. First let’s talk the crew; several folks on the Voltron staff have at the very least, not reacted negatively to the omnipresent ship that is Keith and Lance. I’m sure you’ll also remember that Lance’s VA Jeremy Shada was considered a KICK icon before that went south. The crew was also purposefully misleading when they talked about possible romances for Keith and Lance, the language they used was ambiguous enough that shippers interpreted it as proof that klance would become canon. When it inevitably didn’t and shit hit the fan, the staff backpedaled again. Stating that klance was never meant to be interpreted as romantic and we were all fools for thinking otherwise. That’s happened in the past so it’s a reasonable defence, except for the fact that scenes with Keith and Lance tended to contain unnecessary parallels to canonically romantic relationships, (the bonding moment paralleling an allurance scene in season six and their talk at the start of season eight paralleling two scenes, hunay in season one and l*tura in season five). So it’s not unreasonable to be a little suspicious there. Klance was huge on the internet, it’s impossible for the crew to have been completely unaware of what they were doing.

Next I wanna talk shippers. I’m not saying that being disappointed that a ship didn’t become canon is a bad thing. But when you act like that’s the worst thing Voltron did amidst the sea of ableism, racism and homophobia it gets a little tiring. The fact that so many klancers rushed to demonize Allura after season seven and eight and add on that I saw more people complaining about klance not becoming canon king than Allura dying a completely unnecessary death to redeem L*tor of all people was the final straw. I washed my hands of klance and Voltron as a whole.

———————————————

So that’s my review of V*ltron. I was gonna do a separate review of season eight but I didn’t even finish s8 and to be honest it probably wouldn’t have been any more than the words “Fuck Vee El Dee, Allura Deserved Better” in big pink letters. And I know I probably made someone angry with this review but if you actually managed to stick around my ramblings all the way to the end then I salute you regardless of whether or not you agree with me.

[brightlycoloredteacups]

Nearly Dead

Series: Brynhilda’s Saga

Warnings: Violent Imagery

Taggin: @anunhealthydoseofangst @novumlibellum @tiyetiye @salimahbicharara-comun @sammi-faye

Brynhilda looks over a cliff, waves crashing into the rocks. She remembers this cliff, the one near her home. She played here with her brothers while her parents sat and watched in delight. She wraps her arms around herself. “What do you look like mother?” she whispers into the wind, “I can’t remember.”

“Well, I look like this, I think.”

Brynhilda starts, turning around. She stares into hauntingly familiar green eyes. Long black hair cascades over a brilliant red dress, full lips are pulled into a gentle smile. “Mother,” Brynhilda breathes, aware she’s speaking her mother’s language. “My Brynhilda,” She says, opening her arms. Brynhilda rushes to her, letting out a laugh. She can hardly believe it, to see her mother after all this time...Brynhilda squeezes tightly, never wanting to let go. “I’ve missed you.” Brynhilda admits, tears rolling down her cheeks. “You and father, and my brothers.”

“Well maybe if you turned around, you wouldn’t miss us at all.” Came a snide comment. Brynhilda turns from her mother, looking to see five blonde boys staring at her. Her crying worsens, her brothers and father all join in the hug. “I am dead, aren’t I?”

“Well,” her father says, pulling back from her. “You’re nearly dead.” Brynhilda frowns. “What?”

“You are walking in a place between life and death,” He explains. “Your soul is in the balance.” Brynhilda considers his words. “What do I do?” she whispers, not wanting to know the answer. “Tell me what to do.” Brynjar smiles at her. He leans down and presses a kiss to her brow. “If I did that, my Brynhilda, I would be selfish, I’d take you with us.” Brynhilda sniffs, damning the man, “You know only you can make the decision, my daughter” Camila says, wrapping an arm around Brynhilda’s shaking shoulders. Her parents take her to the edge of the cliff. Instead of a sea of water, she sees the men that rose with her from her grave. They’re all looking at her expectantly. “These are our ancestors Bryn,” Her eldest brother tells her. “From the dawn of time to now, to you.” Men, women, children, all of them, grouped in the vast nothingness of the dreamspace. “I don’t want to be alone anymore.” Brynhilda admits, she is wracked with sobs now, “I don’t want to be in pain anymore. I can’t, I can’t go on like this. I’m so sick of being miserable!”

“Aw, shit little sister,” Brynki, the youngest of the boys punches her arm affectionately.

“You’re making the rest of us cry.”

Brynjar takes her shoulders in her hands, looking at her with pride “We walk beside you, in life, in death, always. Pain is nothing more than a temporary state.”

“So is happiness.” Brynhilda whispers, thinking of the wasted time she spent with her family, thinking of Ivar. Brynjar’s face softens, he’s going to say something more, but Brynhilda shakes her head. “I just want you to know that I love you and miss you, every day. The ache in my chest has nestled there permanently. But,” A chant begins, low, powerful, simple. Get up, get up, get up. Brynhilda wipes at her face, takes a deep breath and calms herself. “I am Brynhilda Brynjarsdottir, I am no weakling, I must live so that I may see Boggvir dead. This is what I vowed to Odin. We are a family that never goes back on their vows.” Her family moves away from her, smiling, proud. “Best not to start breaking them now, especially not to the All Father.” Her father says. “Allah keep you safe,” Her mother says. Brynhilda nods, trying not to choke. I will see them again, but now, it is time to get up, get up, get up.

Brynhilda awakens, violently choking on smoke. She cries out weakly, something burning her hand. Sitting up, she pulls her hand to her lap, Ivar’s pendant, heated by the flames burns her. She drops it, unable to withstand the pain. She whimpers, looking around her, no way out, there’s no way out. The flames are too fierce, even for me. A beam falls too close for her liking, she scrambles away, not forgetting Ivar’s necklace.

This is an enemy with no weak points, she realizes. I will die here after all, my vow meaning nothing. A slow bubbling anger settles in her belly. She will die without getting her revenge. She will die a coward, burned alive by Eylaug of all people. Eylaug, the disgusting pig. He will boast about her death, he will get glory. Her rage builds. It builds until she begins to shake. It builds until it fogs her mind. It builds until it blinds her. She’d be damned if she let Eylaug claim her death. She cocks her head back, letting out her signature screech, and runs towards the door, she refuses to go out this way.

*

Lagertha approaches the building on fire. “What the hell is going on here?” she demands. “The fighting is finished, why are you burning someone’s house?” Eylaug looks at her, making her skin crawl. He is a man that should be put down as soon as possible. She can hardly wait until her alliance with Boggvir comes to an end.

“We have lain to rest a wraith,” Eylaug tells her, throwing his hands out, proud. He spies the Sword of Kings in her hand and bows, adding, “Your majesty.” An unhelpful reminder of just what he did for her. “Brynhilda is dead!” He yells, turning to his men. None of them look as joyful as Eylaug, “We have done what no one said was possible, we have killed Brynhilda the Death-” he is cut off by a terrifying scream.

Lagertha watches as whoever it was trapped within the flames bursts forth in a shower of embers. The wretch is nearly naked, black from soot. She looks about wildly, huffing, green eyes landing on Eylaug. “By Odin,” He whispers, truly terrified. She cocks it’s head back and unleashes yet another unearthly screech, then charges.

Lagertha watches in horror as she tackles Eylaug to the ground, a man easily three times her size. Some men manage to find the courage to react. They rush her, grabbing the back of her shirt and throw her into the air, away from Eylaug before she can do anything more than stun him with a punch to the face. She lands by Lagertha’s feet. Looking up at the newly ordained queen, half crazed. Lagertha raises her sword ready to defend herself, but she’s outmatched by the sheer strength of this animal. It can’t be human, Lagertha thinks as a powerful kick knocks her to the ground and steals her breath. I will die today, this beast will kill me. Lagertha is proved wrong, it seems the girl only cares about the men that trapped her, she turns towards them, poised for battle.

Eylaug is screaming orders at his men, readying them for a fight. Lagertha motions for her own people to stand down, this was not something she wanted to get involved in.  They all watch the bloodbath in amazed horror.

It is a sight to see. A sort of peace settles over the woman. You were born in battle, made by the dwarves, a machine to wreak havoc on Midguard, Lagertha thinks, impressed by Brynhilda. She strikes with the deadly accuracy, cutting down man after man. When her sword is not enough, she uses the rest of her body, moving to and fro, avoiding axes and arrows. Her fists more than enough to snap men’s necks. None manage to touch her.

When there are no more men left to attack, she throws the sword to the side, staring at Eylaug. Through the smoke, Brynhilda smiles, her prey is vulnerable, she moves in for the kill. He lets out a terrified scream that chokes off into nothingness as she beats him with her bear hands. It’s disgusting, it’s violent, it’s poetic justice at its finest. When she is done, Eylaug’s head is nothing but pulp. She slides off him, throwing her head to the sky in a sort of reverence, unleashing one last powerful scream.

She turns to the last surviving man, a man too terrified to raise his weapon. She approaches him. He throws down his weapons kneeling, but before he can beg for his life the thing grabs him by the front of his shirt and speaks, “You will go to Boggvir,” She says, “You will tell him Brynhilda yet lives, despite the attempts on her life, and you will tell him I am coming to rip his still beating heart from his chest and eat it. He better pray to the gods for mercy, I will have none.” The man whimpers, nodding. She throws him away. He scampers, leaving his weapons behind, wanting to get away from the the demon as quick as his legs will carry him.

Brynhilda straightens, looks about her, and reaches for the Sword of Kings. Lagertha approaches her. She holds to sword up, distrust plain in her eyes. “That is my sword,” Lagertha states plainly. “It’s in my hand,” Brynhilda counters. The soldiers behind Lagertha ready their weapons. “I could have you killed,” Lagertha continues, hoping to persuade the haughty young thing. Brynhilda merely laughs, then says “You can try,” her men ready their arrows, still she is unafraid, Lagertha liked her. “I’ll tell you what,” Brynhilda says. “You find my weapons and armor, and I will give you your sword back.”

“You don’t make demands of the Queen of Kattegat!” Astrid said, stepping forward. “I make demands of whom I wish. My effects. Now.” Astrid takes another step, but Lagertha stopped her. There was something in the child’s eyes that told her she’d kill the entire town if she had to. “You heard her, find her things.” Lagertha orders, the men hesitate. This is not a woman she wants to make an enemy of. “Now,” she reiterates. Her men disperse. “You look hungry,” Lagertha says, smiling. “Let me get you something to eat.”

*

Brynhilda has bathed, her things have been returned to her, and now she stands uneasily in front of the new queen of Kattegat. She notes with irritation she hasn’t been fed at all. “Who are you?” Lagertha asks. Brynhilda refuses to answer. Astrid steps up, irritated with her, “Your queen-”

“I have no queen,” Brynhilda informs her calmly. Astrid growls, grabbing her sword. “I’d snap your neck before you could even land a blow,” Brynhilda threatens. She’s in her element, danger surrounds her. She is delighted to see the look of irritation on the new queen’s face. Astrid makes to rush at her, but Lagertha calls her back. Good, at least someone knows what they’re dealing with.

“Where are you going?”

Brynhilda crosses her arms, refusing to answer. “This would go a lot smoother if you simply answered me,” Lagertha tries for a third time. “For you maybe.”

“I could have you locked up.” She points out. “I just barreled my way out of a burning building and killed a man three times my size with my bare hands, what makes you think you could lock me up?”

That’s it, the look of fearful doubt settles on this imposters face. Could Brynhilda be contained? So far it didn’t seem so. Best not to push my luck, she thinks. No one will come for me if I get into anymore trouble. “I get it,” Brynhilda says, pacing, never turning her back on the queen or the people that surround her. “You want to know if I’m going to cause trouble for you. Despite you aligning yourself with Boggvir, I won’t.” Lagertha opens her mouth, no doubt to say something smart, “I will leave you in peace,” Brynhilda interrupts, “so long as you understand that if you get involved you will die.” Lagertha chances a laugh at this. “I have an army, you fight under no banner.” I’m playing a dangerous game here. I’ve never been good with my words. “There are men that would follow me,” Brynhilda says, sounding much more confident than she felt. “And you are a new queen. People here loved Aslaug, do you think all of them would rise up to help you, the usurper?”

“Queen Lagerther-” another blond woman starts, Brynhilda has to interrupt her. “Enough of this talk!” She barks. “I am leaving, with or without your permission. Get in my way, and you lot burn with Kattegat.”

Lagertha smiles at her, a placating smile. She doesn’t think I’m a threat, I’d love to see her head on a pike. “Really now, what is one small girl with no army of her own going to do?” Brynhilda smirks, “I’m going to conquer a kingdom.”

*

All things considered, Brynhilda feels lucky. The town was attacked, and she survived, she was nearly burned alive, but she survived, and the new queen allowed her to leave mostly unmolested.

She sits in her cabin, looking at the friends she’s managed to make. Rhona, Vigdis, Sigrid, the healer, how odd to think of these girls as friends. True friends.

They’ve had a trying day, so they sleep away the hours. It’s just as well, Brynhilda goes weak for Rhona’s crying. “I will watch over them,” The healer tells her, cracking open an eye. “You’d better, I’d come back to strangle you if you didn’t.”

“You aren’t used to having friends are you?” Brynhilda smiles. “Not good ones, no.” The old woman chuckles. “Go,” She says. “I will tell them of your love in the morning.” Brynhilda nods, looking at the girls one last time. “Tell them,” Brynhilda stops, unsure of what to say. She wasn’t used to having people that would worry over her. “Tell them I will be back, one day.” With that, she slips into the night

*

Ivar cracks open an eye, bright sun nearly blinding him. Well, he thinks, smiling, I’m alive. He pats himself down, just to make sure. His hand closes around the trinket Brynhilda had given him. A troll cross. He didn’t know what the hell a troll cross would do for him all the way in England, but it obviously meant something to her, so it was dear to him.

Ivar smiles at the thought of his love, she was going to shit herself when she found out his mother was wrong. His mother would be happy, and he would be able to prove to his brothers he wasn’t some useless thing that had to be carted around all the time.

He half remembers the storm that took them, by surprise. His father had warned all of them that there was a chance it would happen, but no one really believed him. Ivar blamed the boats, they were shoddily made in haste for the journey. But what boat can the most hated man in Kattegat get with so little money?

Ivar looks and shakes his father’s leg, eager to get going. He finds he can’t keep the smile from his face. He made it to England, he will live to see his Brynhilda, and most importantly, he will be able to kill a Saxon for her. He had a feeling things would go well here.