#meaning that i find it important to practice talking and theorizing with someone who will call out any bullshit or weak reasoning

[szczekaczz]

i'm glad i decided to take this class on masculinity in ruslit because 1) i never perceived masculinity in any positive light nor thought about it deeply in general and being open to new concepts is the most important thing in life 2) the professor talks about the theory of literature in a really interesting way + i'm always hyped for comparing things from the "first" and the "second" world

[astrolovecosmos]

Vertex: What We Can’t Control

Vertex is a point located in the right-hand side of a chart that represents the intersection of the ecliptic and the prime vertical. In astrology, it is considered an auxiliary or extra Descendant. Some astrologers refer to the Vertex as the “third angle” of a chart.  It is associated with wish fulfillment, awakenings or realizations, the idea of destiny or fate, and some use it for moments that are life changing such as meeting your spouse, a death of a loved one, birth of a child, etc. My focus isn’t on predictive astrology and because of this I don’t use Vertex often in my own readings. Vertex can be popular in synastry but I also don’t typically incorporate it into those charts. I analyze it from the perspective of how we approach what we can’t control, realizations, and our view or approach to wishes and “fate”. 

Vertex in Aries: There is a pull or call to be a leader in some fashion. This person may also feel like they are constantly fighting against “fate” or has a focus on making their own destiny. This person can feel like they are always falling into situations where they are forced to lead, fight, or assert. Defining the self may be important to feeling fulfilled. Self-expression and honoring the importance of the individual can help them feel more stable in a chaotic world. 

Vertex in Taurus: Anyone familiar with that scene from Frozen 2 where Olaf goes “we’re calling this controlling what you can when things feel out of control”? That is the first thing I thought of for Vertex in Taurus. The fear and frustration surrounding what they cannot control can be real. In terms of fate many describe this position as being about finding inner security and being more independent. For many Taurus placements there is the reoccurring theme of learning to overcome fear of the unknown, let go of control, to find flexibility, but most importantly to cultivate inner stability. With Vertex this individual may find themselves falling down a rabbit hole of unpredictable fate, but none of that should matter as long as they understand the power they hold in their own actions and decisions. 

Vertex in Gemini: Here we see someone who tries to get a handle on the unknown or their own destiny via learning as much as they can about the world, themselves, the occult, science, etc. Communication is also important to them in easing anxieties or feeding curiosity. They love to theorize or talk hypotheticals. Here we almost see a reflection of their polar opposite Sagittarius - there is a desire to find meaning in the world. Communicating their needs, fears, and wants can be helpful with feeling fulfilled or like they are on the right path. 

Vertex in Cancer: All of the water signs have a powerful relationship with the idea of fate and Vertex. Here we see themes of strong intuition, attachment, or maybe even psychic abilities. There is a close tie to their fate, whether they are making their own destiny, getting hunches about what path to take, or have world swallowing doubt and fears. Their relationship to the unknown, the instability of life, and to ideas of destiny are deep and felt strongly. With Cancer there is a focus on protecting and nurturing the self and others. They need to be careful of focusing too much on taking care of others or taking on their feelings. Reexamining family, making a new family, or dealing with family cycles or trauma may be in the cards for them. Attending to the inner child or wounded self is important in making themselves sane in such a crazy world. 

Vertex in Leo: Individuality, creativity, self-expression, and empowerment are themes surrounding this Vertex. To become the best version of yourself could summarize this placement when talking about destiny. To adapt or cope with a world that is outside of their control they must create their own world or path. To stand out and/or lead the way is what will help them feel most fulfilled in life. Authenticity is a buzzword now-a-days but that trait or way of being is a necessity for Vertex in Leo as they plummet through the universe. Feelings of grandeur, uniqueness, power, or nobility may go through them sometimes. While they need to be careful of not letting this go to their head or tripping them up - these feelings of power are important in shaping their own future and self. 

Vertex in Virgo: Much like Taurus there is a fear of the unknown or not being in control. To find inner stability could be a struggle. The focus for Vertex in Virgo is to find a way to feel purposeful, needed, or useful. This gives them a sense of direction and stability. This Vertex prefers routine, predictability, and structure. They may be overly practical in terms of fate - believing there are no other influences that determine their life other than them. Similar to Vertex in fire they can have a “I make my own destiny” attitude. Vertex in Virgo may have a pull to work on their intuition. The Vertex sits on an axis like all other points in a chart. The opposite sign is the Anti-Vertex which some astrologers believe to be how we shape our fate or what we have to offer in relationships and life. With Virgo Vertex and Pisces as the Anti-Vertex there is an opportunity to hone their intuition. On the subject of helping others or finding meaning - it is listening to their feelings and hunches that might lead them to how they can do this. 

Vertex in Libra: Trying to see their fate in other people or believing other people are their fate is associated. Learning to create their own destiny or standing on their own or standing out can be a lesson surrounding this Vertex. Finding peace by connecting with others and feeling less alone is also associated, especially in terms of dealing with what cannot be controlled or foreseen. Cooperation and adaptability are strengths needed to feel whole. 

Vertex in Scorpio: There is a lot to be said about willpower here. This person likely is a strong believer in making their own destiny. Strong premonitions and hunches can lead them into believing in a higher power or feeling in tune with the spiritual or unknown. Scorpio is pulled to master their turbulent emotions and intensity as well as conquer and understand the mysteries inside themselves. It’s about learning self-control but also when to unleash. To transform and do all of the hard work in the background so that when life throws you curveballs you are ready. They master themselves, master their life, master the universe. 

Vertex in Sagittarius: It is through faith in themselves, the universe, or that everything will turn out okay that this person gets through the unpredictability of life. There can be a desire to find meaning, especially through spirituality, religion, or a unique philosophy. Sagittarius is a sign that chases truth and by chasing it they can make sense of the world. Being in the role of teacher and student helps them feel right in the universe. They must always be searching, learning, and exploring. 

Vertex in Capricorn: In a world they can’t control this person can face a lot of challenges. They can be tempted into acting authoritative or controlling. However respect and self-authority are important for this person to feel more stable, concrete, fulfilled. To lead others with a level-head and patience is the best route for them. Even better is to focus on their own success and lead by example. This placement is prone to a highly realistic and sometimes negative view of the world and possibly the idea of destiny. This placement can bring about big rewards and depth when they listen to their heart and to loved ones and when they focus. 

Vertex in Aquarius: Aquarius is known for not fearing the unknown and embracing the unpredictable. When Vertex is in this sign there are lessons about acceptance, tolerance, cooperation, and communication. It is the craziness of people and the harm people can do that gets them wanting to become a hermit or to leave the narrative. There can be a temptation to hide away from intimacy, passion, and attachment. The Futurama “I don’t want to live on this planet anymore” meme is for them. Being boxed in by the idea of “destiny” might not appeal to them. To feel fulfilled in life is to feel connected and belonging. Embracing all different types of people and relationships can help them feel more sure of the world, of humanity. 

Vertex in Pisces: This person likely is a strong believer in fate and destiny. If you are one who believes in psychic abilities, this could be a strong indicator for some. This person should be careful of getting lost in wild dreams or a big picture that doesn’t include themselves or include others in their lives. Fate may have big plans for them but it is through their loved ones and how they can help others that they feel most fulfilled. They may feel like life is always throwing them into situations where they are forced to help or to empathize. Learning discernment and protection is important. They don’t need to help or heal everyone, in fact it is in their choice who to help that might make them feel the most sure and solid in life. 

[sigynappreciation]

Sigyn Meta: Who is Sigyn?

A Norse Goddess who is known for being the wife of the Trickster, Loki, and holding the bowl to protect him from the snake’s venom. 

But besides that, Who is Sigyn? What does she mean to others? 

Journey with me as we explore who she is -- not only in the mythologies, but in other forms like the Marvel Comics, Worship and through fans.

#JusticeforSigyn

Sigyn’s Origins (Mythology):

Sadly, not many stories that have Sigyn in them have survived till today. She is only attested in the following works: Poetic Edda & Prose Edda. 

In the poem, Lokasenna, the most famous of poem’s with the couple, it talks of how Loki has been bound by the gods with the guts of his son, Nari, and how his son, Vari, has been turned into a wolf. The Goddess Skadi fastens a venomous snake over Loki’s face, from which venom drips. Sigyn, stated as Loki’s wife, stays by his side and holds a basin under and catches the venom so it won’t drip onto her husband, but when the basin grows full, she pulls it away to empty it, during which time venom drops onto Loki, causing him to wither so violently that earthquakes occur that shake the entire earth.

In the poem, Gylfaginning, Sigyn is introduced in Chapter 31 as being married to Loki and that they have a son by the name of “Narfi or Nari”. She is then mentioned again in Chapter 50 where events are described differently than in Lokasenna; Vali, described as a son of Loki only, is changed into a wolf by the gods and rips apart his brother, “Narfi or Nari.” The guts of Nari are then used to tie Loki to three stones, after which the guts turn to iron, and Skadi places a snake above Loki. Sigyn of course catches the venom in a bowl. This process is repeated until he breaks free, setting Ragnarok into motion.

In the poem, Skáldskaparmál, Sigyn is introduced as a goddess, an Æsir, where the gods are holding a feast for their visitors and in kennings for Loki: “husband of Sigyn” and “cargo [Loki] of incantation-fetter’s [Sigyn’s] arms.” 

Sigyn’s name means “Victorious-Girlfriend” in Old Norse. 

Sigyn may appear on the Gosforth Cross and has been the subject of an amount of theory and cultural references.

She appears in the 9th century skaldic poem Haustlöng from pagan times, written by the skald Þjóðólfr of Hvinir. Due to this early connection with Loki, Sigyn has been theorized as being a goddess dating back to an older form of Germanic paganism.

Sigyn in Worship/Honor: 

I’ll be speaking on this through my personal experience of working with Sigyn while also sharing some tid bits of basic info from others on this subject. I’m someone who works with Sigyn primarily, but sometimes gets help from Loki. 

A Lokean is someone who honors Loki as their primary deity ( or at least one of their primary deities.) Most are polytheists that respect a variety of worldviews and a wide variety of gods. FOR MORE ON THIS SUBJECT, VISIT THIS BLOG: https://lokeanwelcomingcommittee.tumblr.com

For those who work with Loki, you will also find yourself working with Sigyn. And sometimes you don’t even need to work with Loki first in order to work with Sigyn (like me!)

Sigyn is usually a calming and motherly presence. Loki is protective over her, but they usually work in unison together to help. 

SMALL DEVOTIONAL ACTS TO SIGYN: 

Holding the Bowl: It is a reflective act of Sigyn holding the bowl to protect Loki from the snake’s venom. This is usually the major one. 

Helping to support mothers (especially single mothers)

Support single parents

Supporting Women’s Rights

Keep fighting through the hardships 

Wear earthy tones

Commitment in everything you do.

Help others, but remember that self-care is important too

More devotional acts

KENNINGS/HEITI FOR SIGYN:

Wife of Loki

Incantation-Fetter

Lady of Staying Power

Lady of Unyielding Gentleness

Lady of the Unconquerable Heart

Mother of Narvi and Vali

North Star

Victory Woman

Lady of Loyalty

Loki’s Treasure

Devoted Mother

Lady of Endurance

Goddess of Constancy

Goddess of the Heart

Goddess of Neglected Children

Goddess of Comfort

Healer to All

Mother to All

Beloved of Monsters

SIGYN’S VIRTUES:

Strength

Loyalty

Grace

Humility

Gentleness

Charity

Constancy

Love

Endurance

Patience

Simplicity

Mindfulness

Compassion

I’ll cover more on this subject soon in a separate post, but this is the basic. 

Sigyn in the Marvel Comics:

Sadly, Sigyn is not portrayed the best in the Marvel Comics of Thor, resulting in her being missing from the comics since 1996 and practically killed off (only being referenced to in flashbacks.) 

Loki comes across her and desires to have her. However, she is already engaged to an Asgardian named Theoric, who Loki has killed and ends up taking on the disguise of in order to take Sigyn for his own. On their wedding day once the vows are said and done, Sigyn accepts her duty as his wife, granting her the title Goddess of Fidelity by Odin. 

She doesn’t have much of an agency or personality besides being Loki’s faithful wife in this. 

Fans wish for her to make a comeback in the Comics and MCU with better characterization. Hence, much Fanfiction, Cosplay, Roleplay and Fanart has been made of others own interpretation’s of Sigyn and #JusticeforSigyn is shared around in hopes of this. 

LIST OF SIGYN COMIC APPEARANCES:

Thor Vol 1 #275 (First appearance, 1978)

Thor Vol 1 #276

Thor Vol 1 #277

Thor Vol 1 #278

Thor Vol 1 #301

Thor Vol 1 #302

Thor Vol 1 #303

Thor Vol 1 #307

Thor Annual Vol 1 (9)

Thor Vol 1 #313

Thor Vol 1 #321

Official Handbook of the Marvel Universe Vol 1 (1)

Official Handbook of the Marvel Universe Vol 2 (1)

Gamer’s Handbook of the Marvel Universe Vol 1 (1)

Thor Annual Vol 1 (14)

Thor Annual Vol 1 (19)

Thor Vol 1 #479

Thor Vol 1 #483

Thor Vol 1 #484 (1995)

Thor: The Legend Vol 1 (1) (1996, last appearance)

Avengers: Loki Unleashed #1 (2019, first & only modern day appearance since 90s. FLASHBACK ONLY)

LIST OF SIGYN MENTIONS IN COMICS:

Thor Annual Vol 1 #10 (1982)

Official Handbook of the Marvel Universe Vol 1 #11 (1983)

Thor: Asgard’s Avenger Vol 1 #1 (2011)

Mighty Thor Vol 1 #12.1 (2012)

Loki Vol 3 #1 (2019 - referenced)

Sigyn and her impact with Fans:

Sigyn is still not that well known among others, but there is a small community of us fans who honor her through all forms she is displayed and her relationship with Loki. This is the reason this blog and @dailylogyn​ were created: to help unite fans and spread the word of Sigyn and her relationship with Loki through appreciation and education.

Fans also show their appreciation for Sigyn through Art forms like Fanfiction, Cosplay, Fanart & More! The cool thing is that she can be interpreted however you wish, but her love for Loki and her compassion is always her strong points. 

There is a tag #JusticeforSigyn in order to help give her the proper attention she deserves. MORE HERE. 

FANARTISTS:

I’m not going to post any of their art here in order to make others visit their blogs and give them the appropriate credit they deserve. 

Let’s support content creators! <3

@nanigram​/Nanihoo: This artist makes wonderful fanart of her own interpretation of Sigyn and her relationship with Loki (plus their children.) You can usually find most of it on Deviantart. 

@sigynart​: This artist makes lovely art of Tom Hiddelston’s Loki, but has recently come out with their own interpretation of Sigyn and has even started to draw Loki & Sigyn together. 

@dank-art​: This artist makes a lot of interesting twists to Sigyn and Loki either if it’s a modern look, an alternate universe or a certain aesthetic of the couple. They have a lot of amazing concept designs concerning Sigyn and Loki! 

COSPLAYERS:

@bubbleteycosplay​: She is known as the German Sigyn! This cosplayer has done a wide varieties of different versions/outfits of Sigyn. Besides here, you can usually find her on Instagram, Deviantart and other websites. She also helps inform others on Sigyn and her relationship with Loki.

In fact, HERE IS A LIST she has created pertaining to other Sigyn Cosplayers. I’ll list the others below though with links to their pages:

Vontrug (Instagram)

lady_laufeyson (Instagram)

Mizerious (Instagram)

Maryintothewoods (Instagram)

danni_darling (Instagram) 

I myself am planning to join these wonderful cosplayers too as I work to create my own Sigyn cosplay as well. :) They are all such an inspiration! 

CONCLUSION:

I could go on and on about the subject of Sigyn. She’s an amazing, caring and loving goddess who teaches us many helpful traits we need throughout life. Despite still not being that well known, she is greatly loved by this community -- and none other than Loki. 

Hopefully someday she will make a comeback in the Marvel world and get the proper characterization and love she deserves. Till then, us fans will continue to share the love, joy and appreciation we have for Sigyn and her relationship with Loki, welcoming anyone as Sigyn does with open arms and loving hearts. 

SOURCES:

Holding the Bowl: https://lokeanwelcomingcommittee.tumblr.com/post/102422224083/a-bowling-tutorial

Lokean Welcoming Community: https://lokeanwelcomingcommittee.tumblr.com

Small Devotional Acts to Sigyn: https://bramblevitch.wordpress.com/2020/06/23/small-devotional-acts-to-sigyn/

Sigyn on Wikipedia: https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Sigyn

Lokean Welcoming Community’s topics on Sigyn: https://lokeanwelcomingcommittee.tumblr.com/tagged/sigyn

Sigyn on Marvel Database: https://marvel.fandom.com/wiki/Sigyn_(Earth-616)

Sigyn’s Shrine: Who is Sigyn?: http://www.northernpaganism.org/shrines/sigyn/sigyn/who-is-sigyn.html

Sigyn - Norse Mythology for Smart People: https://norse-mythology.org/sigyn/

[vatrocvet]

do you think norma hates/would try to hide her lazy eye/tooth gap?

Sorry for the late response, I spent half my day thinking about this ask, but I think I've figured it out. Also, this is going to be extremely long winded because I will take any excuse to talk about her.

Despite this reference, she avoids smiling with her teeth. Her glasses were picked out oversized to hide and distract from her broken nose and her lazy eye. She even has this learnt tendency to pick a standing position which makes the way her lazy eye looks less prominent. A perfectionist in her own right, truly.

(this is the part where i go off on a somewhat canon related tangent. not too relevant to the ask itself but i felt i had to.)

Norma in her essence strikes me as someone who puts on an elaborate performance to hide the fact she's rather insecure. She comes of as this mean, prideful person with a condescending presence of a typical giggly mean girl, making sure you know she thinks she's above you, and don't you dare try to usurp her position in the eyes of the authority figures. This role she's playing represents a from of control she likes to cling to, and she's been keeping it up for so long it melted into her face. People who are the most curel are usually the most unhappy with themselves.

She seems stable, she seems rather mean for seemingly no reason. Inside she yearns for the glory, the recognition, the attention of her superiors, so she goes on a senseless, demeaning feat to bring Raz down because she's probably baffled by him and envious of him just walking in with all these acclamations and attention from high ranking agents. How does she get this attention back? She has to do something just as important. Like singlehandedly rooting out the mole and helping the entire organisation! This is very much worth it and since she's so intelligent and her judgement is oh so spotless, she couldn't possibly be wrong. She's so sure she's right, she thinks nothing off-script could possibly happen. I went as far as to analyze her face in the background of some scenes. Specifically when the adults find Raz and Lili after they exited "Truman's" mind. When Sasha is disappointed in Raz, she has this triumphal expression of absolute joy. Everything is clicking! Everything is going according to plan! And then it doesn't. And then instead ot having a hand in rooting out the mole, she had a hand in bringing back Maligula. According to Morris, she came to him UPSET about some TERRIBLE MISTAKE she had made, asking for reinforcement. I curse the day this wasn't a scene because it could've given her some 100% canon dimension, her own little villain breakdown. She clearly has developed leadership and manipulation skills, but her actual social intelligence is quite poor. Bullying a ten year old? Seriously?

The instance of her realizing she fucked up big time with the whole Maligula incident and the bottled emotions cut voice line tells me we aren't seeing the full picture, which makes sense because we're looking at everything from Raz's perspective.

(messy tangent over. let's say i'm back to the ask)

Now, in the realm of my messy headcanons and theorizing, she's just a fumbling bunch of awful learnt behaviors. Once something works, the brain takes it and runs with it.

She is practically unrecognizable. But due to a total angstfest of reasons, she has developed a permanent lazy eye (her vision is straight up awful. she strained her eyes so greatly she occasionally has to squint even with her thick glasses. without them she can't see a finger in front of her face. her eyes are super sensitive and her poor vision is one of the many reasons she's quite prone to headaches.). i don't know if i portray it clearly enough, but you might have noticed her nose is broken. This is tied to her lazy eye. Her tooth gap is genetic (Lizzie has one too!), and despite wearing braces for it when she was little, they didn't dissappear (mostly because she was basically bullied out of wearing them. they gave her a speech impediment and she would refuse to wear them so they didn't improve anything). Her skin is also genetically prone to acne, but she had a hand in making it all the more sensitive and damaged.

She's got these... Let's call them nervous habits. Picking at her lips till they're wounded, chewing on her nails and fingers, tugging at her hair and itching and opening her acne when under duress.

She was never called pretty. Nobody ever called her beautiful. Quite the opposite, the cruel kids around her knowing nothing about her expect that she was a psychic freak, insulted her physical appearance as kids usually do. She defaulted to thinking people find her ugly. When she stopped taking care of herself and deteriorated greatly, she didn't feel the impact of it. When her damaged left eye stopped working, she wasn't bothered. When her skin was full of scars from being picked over and over again, she thought it was normal. She was always "ugly". Their laughter and cruel comments were the norm, so there mustn't be a problem. Her posture was awful, she was in constant pain, but she didn't care. So what if her body deteriorated? So what if she shed a fistful of hair every day? It was all worth it for the numbers, the results, the grades, the acclaim. Her only form of self worth lied in these "achievements". Even if there was someone to tell her she wasn't ok, it's not like she would've listened. It didn't matter.

But the many competitions and performances she participated in required her to be presentable.

This realization was a heavy hit. She went from barley taking care of herself to suddenly becoming very proactive in that department. She wasn't only chasing numbers anymore. She also had to present herself in front of others. People are shallow. They might knock her efforts down because she wasn't attractive. What she stopped caring about suddenly became important, and it only worsened when she got older.

I feel where she is at currently is the healthiest environment she has ever been in for her. Where people like her are accepted. A place where she can finally feel like she maybe even fits. Where she is safe from the judgment of her family and peers.

But her performance never ends. And now she has people who don't ignore her existence or loathe her by default. Now it matters more than ever.

[amelialincoln]

The Way Life Goes (2)

She thic and she important. Feel free to leave part 3 prompts or theories in my ask box. As always, enjoy...

TW: substance abuse

“Have you seen Amelia?” Was the first thing the general surgeon asked Link at the beginning of the work week on Monday. Link shrugged, pushing his overgrown shaggy hair out of his face and tugging his Ipad aggressively out of the charger.

“Nope.” He popped the ‘p’. Meredith eyed him in a way that made him uncomfortable enough to continue. “Scout and I have been crashing at Jo’s since Friday. I’d assume she’s at my apartment.” He didn’t get very far before Meredith stepped in front of him.

“Look, as irritating as it is, the minute shit is going down in her life she’s at my house in seconds. She didn’t come to the after party and hasn’t shown up for her shift yet today. I really doubt she’s just hanging out in your apartment.” She crossed her arms, looking somewhat terrifying, despite the fact that he loomed over her.

“I can't talk right now, I have surgery.” He replied, pushing back any fears of where she might be and focusing on the chart in front of him.

“She rejects your proposal and now you’re just done? What happened to you guys?” Link’s jaw tightened so hard you could hear the sound of his teeth clashing.

“She doesn’t want to be with me. It’s as simple as that.”

“I don’t think she doesn’t want to be with you. She just obviously isn’t ready to get married. And I think you knew that.”

“Whatever, Meredith.” Link’s throat was tight as he pushed past her, swallowing down his guilt.

She had somehow found herself to Link's apartment in a daze, praying he wasn’t there as she pushed through the door. He wasn’t. She grabbed some clean clothes and more cash before leaving once again.

It was somewhat exhilarating, living on the edge. Chasing high after high and making sure that the timing is perfect to prevent any meaningful thoughts from actually surfacing. So far she'd been excelling at it. However, it was when she was halfway back that she realized she had fucked up. Anger and self hatred hit her like a ton of bricks and she almost staggered back. The high had worn off and her mind had started to scream. You are so weak. Back here again after you promised the last time was the end. So many promises, she thought. So many empty promises that she’d broken time and time again. The promise that she’d made to be a good mother. Failed, again. Why should she even attempt to pick up the broken pieces after she found herself back to square one each time? Why not stop trying to fix it and just accept herself for who she truly is, an addict? Why keep disappointing the people that care about her over and over? There was no point. Not anymore. Scout’s name was blaring in her mind like an alarm. He’s better out without you. She convinced herself. Don’t let yourself ruin him. You destroy everything you touch.

“Amelia.” Camilla was looking at her weird. She tried to focus on her new friend, attempting to calm her shaking hands. “Wait too long?” She asked, digging into her bag. All Amelia could do was nod and pull out the cash. “This one’s on me.” Camilla placed a reassuring hand on Amelia’s shoulder as she rolled up her sleeve. She paused, with bated breath, until the image of Scout faded from her mind.

“Can you hear me?” Meredith practically yelled into the crackling phone. “I’m sorry, I know this is your honeymoon. I just still haven’t heard from her and you know her better than me so I need you to tell me what I should do.”

“Is this about Amelia?” Maggie’s groggy voice asked into the speakerphone. “You still haven’t heard from her?”

“I wouldn’t have called if I hadn't. I’m worried about her.” She could practically hear Maggie’s hesitation. “Don’t come back. Don’t even offer that.”

“She’s been having a rough time,” Maggie sighed. “Richard doesn’t let on too much but I know COVID has been hard on her. Link has good intentions. He just hasn’t ever had to see her at her lowest.”

“You think she’s using?” Meredith’s voice was hushed as she passed her Ipad to a nurse and thanked her quietly before letting herself into her office.

“I mean if I rejected a proposal from a man who meant a lot to me because I wasn’t ready I’d probably down a bottle of wine out of guilt." Maggie smiled bitterly.

“She’s stayed sober through a lot worse,” Meredith countered, glancing up to find Bailey waiting at the door with an expression she knew too well. “Hey, I’ve got to go. Tell Winston I say hi.”

“I will. Talk to you later.” Meredith placed her cell phone in her scrub pocket before meeting an irritated Bailey at the door.

“Where’s Shepherd?” Meredith knew what she was going to say before she even spoke the words. She bit the inside of her cheek, not knowing how to respond.

“Why?” She asked, receiving an eyebrow raise.

“Because she’s got a gliosarcoma in an hour and she hasn’t clocked in,” Bailey stated, fixing her lab coat and giving Meredith an exasperated look. “Look, whatever drama she and Doctor Lincoln are having, I don’t care. She can show up to work.”

“I don’t know where she is,” Meredith responded. “I honestly have no idea.”

“Wha--” Bailey started. She let out a grunt of disapproval before waving an agitated hand in the air and storming off. Meredith bit the nail on her thumb, sending yet another message to the missing neurosurgeon and wondered guiltily, for a moment, why she was so self destructive.

Link spent a lot of time in the ER compared to his colleagues. Compared to most other specialties, the majority of cases that presented themselves in the emergency room were ortho related. Most of the time it was pretty mundane, whether it be a broken ankle or a dislocated shoulder, but to keep the hospital from impending lawsuits, he was usually needed to supervise the interns, who were prowling in the ER looking for cases and trying to pop limbs back into place or reset joints, thinking they could handle it easily on their own.

As a result of this, Link was already in the OR when the trauma came in. He was sitting in the swivel chair behind the desk, dragging his feet across the floor to propel him side to side. He wasn’t paged so he was unfazed by the ambulance pulling up. Then again, he wasn’t really fazed by much these days after falling into a somewhat self deprecating state. He stared at the clock, hoping he’d be let off early.

“Did you hear about this?” Bailey asked Richard, as she secured her gown around herself and handed him a pair of gloves.

“Yeah,” Richard’s voice was a tone that Link couldn’t quite decipher. “Bunch of overdoses at Quilchena, saw it on the news in the lounge. Must’ve been something laced in whatever they all were doing.” He snapped his gloves aggressively over his hands as if he were mad at something. “This kind of thing has been happening all the time because of COVID. Addicts have been struggling during the pandemic. Never seen meetings so full.” Link found himself wondering if he was talking about Amelia. Bailey nodded to Richard sympathetically ask they rushed to meet the gurney’s being pushed into the ER.

“John Doe,” the paramedic announced. “Got naloxone at the scene, friend administered it. Conscious but having trouble breathing.”

“Page cardio,” Bailey ordered to a resident. Link watched curiously as Richard froze in place.

“Jane Doe,” the paramedic continued. “Unconscious but breathing. She--”

“Put her in trauma one,” Richard ordered firmly. Link wished he could see what was going on as he watched the blood drain from Bailey’s face. “Don’t let anyone see her. She wouldn’t want that.” It clicked in Link’s brain at that very moment when the pair of them turned to look his way. He got out of the chair he was in so fast that it clattered to the ground behind him.

Her face was so pale it was practically grey and her arms and lips were tinted a purpley blue. She looked so slender he felt like one could reach out and just snap her in half. Her expression was almost peaceful though, and that’s what haunted him most. The image of her was burned into his mind immediately and he knew, as they wheeled her away, that it would never be forgotten.

As Bailey and Richard steered her gurney away he felt frozen in place before finally, and without any indication from his mind, his feet began to follow them.

“She’s seizing,” Bailey exclaimed, her hands flying up to either side of her head to avoid holding any of her limbs in place. “Where the hell is trauma?” Link watched as she twitched, bile building up in the back of his throat. He felt slightly dizzy. He’d never been one to get queasy, even in med school while the rest of his peers either fainted or threw up during their first time observing in an OR. That’s when he knew he wanted to become a surgeon. He wasn’t sure if it was his ego telling him that he was superior for being the last one standing or the tiny and quick glance of approval the attending gave him before going back to ignoring him completely. Though, there must be something different about seeing someone he loved in this situation because he had to place a hand on the doorway to steady himself and looked away. Teddy came through the doors at that moment, brushing past him as if he didn’t exist. For a reason he couldn't quite explain let out a breath of relief that it wasn’t Owen. Something in his mind was screaming your fault, your fault, your fault. And selfishly, he hoped that Meredith, or really anyone who cared for Amelia half as much as he did, wasn’t at the hospital, and theorized that she’d probably beat him to a pulp.

“Can I help?” He found himself croaking, receiving only a glance from Richard.

“Absolutely not,” the general surgeon replied firmly, before finally getting Amelia connected to the monitor. Everyone in the room kind of paused for a moment, reading the levels and unanimously thinking to themselves silently, fuck.

“She’s coding,” Teddy proclaimed, as the alarm-like sound began to reveal itself. Link’s heart sank and he reached out to grab her hand, ignoring Richard’s orders for him to leave. Her palm was cold like ice, but not the dead kind of cold. Cold as if she’d just run in and out of the water, grinning and calling to him as if the ocean’s touch had electrified her, sending a rush of serotonin through her veins. Link remembers that look from when they’d gone down to California, for a conference that she was speaking at, like it were yesterday. She’d convinced him to go swimming, despite it being mid February, and had explained that diving into the frigid waves replicated the feeling of euphoria she used to get when a really good high would hit her full force. She’d told him about how she would swim a lot when she was first getting sober, craving the way the world felt like it was on pause and the way that silence filled her ears when her head was completely underwater. That was really the last time she’d grinned at him like that. Right before Covid had really hit. The first time they’d left Scout for the weekend with his parents. Coming up out of that water like she had been brought back to life.

He’d been so blind. He’d watched her slip into a mindless routine. Go to work. Drive home. Feed the baby. Put the baby to bed. Go to bed. Wake up. Every day, over and over. She would walk around like a ghost, stuck between life and death. He had ignored the way she'd fill her free time with meetings and when she had started going to sleep before he got home, brushed it off as postpartum and told himself that everything between them was fine. Postpartum doesn’t last this long you idiot.

“Clear!” Teddy’s calm voice echoed through the room, snapping him back to reality, and he pulled away his hand last minute before her chest rose and fell. His eyes flicked to the heart monitor, nothing. “Again, charge to three fifty. Clear!” The room fell silent as the compression pads thumped. Nothing. Teddy paused, staring at the monitor.

“Dr. Altman?” The nurse called out. “Again?” Her voice was quiet as the trauma surgeon lifted a hand in response.

“Wait,” her voice had become soft. The monitor beeped as a small peak rose and fell. “Come on, Amelia,” Teddy muttered.

“Charge again,” Bailey ordered.

“Just give her a second,” Teddy pleaded, not taking her eyes off the screen. “She’s fighting.” The trio of doctors stared at the monitor while Link fixated his eyes on his girlfriend and slid his hand into hers once again, interlocking his fingers with hers. Don’t die, don’t die, don’t die. The monitor beeped, and then beeped again, and then again. Link forced himself to look up and watched as the numbers climbed.

“Thank you, god.” Bailey brought a shaking hand to her face before closing her fingers into a fist and pressing it to her forehead. “We are lucky that the lord is looking out for this woman because the people in her life seem to not be.” The comment cut through Link like a knife.

“Bailey, that is not fair!” Richard exclaimed. Link had never heard the man raise his voice with such aggravation, even Bailey winced as she stormed out of the room, throwing her gloves to the side.

“She’s lost a lot of people...and a lot of surgeons,” Richard muttered in apology to him.

“Can she breathe on her own?” Link choked, looking at Teddy, who shifted on her feet.

“She’s weak. I’d like to keep the tube in for a couple of hours at least. See how she does. I’d also like to get neuro down here to give her a check. Let’s get her up to the ICU for now and monitor her closely. She’s stable. Let’s focus on that for now.” Link nodded, not knowing what else to say as Teddy pulled off her gown and tossed it into the bin before practically staggering out of the stuffy room.

“I didn’t know.” Something about the way Richard was looking his way was causing a buildup of defensiveness inside him.

“How?” Richard shook his head with disappointment, massaging his throbbing temple and trying to block out the emphysematous but rhythmic breath sounds coming from the breathing tube. “How, did you just not know?” His colleague was radiating judgment and Richard’s eyes narrowed into tiny slits before his entire body slumped, in no effort to lecture Link about something he should be hearing from Amelia. He looked at his friend, without a trace of condemnation, knowing, so easily, that it could be him in that hospital bed and her where he was standing. “It’s not my place,” he finally stated, tearing his eyes away from Amelia and blinking away any buildup in his tear ducts. He turned to the nurse and thanked her, always polite. “When you take her up can you make it discreet?” He knew the woman had recognized Amelia immediately. “Her reputation is on the line.” The nurse nodded as if she understood. Richard thanked her again before exiting the room.

Richard had ended up telling Meredith, who stopped by to let Link know that she and Hayes would pick up Scout from daycare and take him home with them. Link couldn’t read her expression, it was clouded as if she was undergoing an internal conflict that caused her to wince and look away upon glancing at Amelia. Some of the colour had returned to her cheeks, they looked as if someone had applied too much blush to a pale complexion and were hot to the touch. Teddy had removed the breathing tube about an hour ago. She’d gasped at first, her lungs whistling and wheezing in protest. Enough to make Teddy almost contemplate putting it back in before the breathing had settled.

“You didn’t look for her,” Meredith blurted out, as if she’d been trying to keep the words at bay. The look on her face told him that she regretted saying it almost immediately.

“Neither did you,” he bit back, more aggressively than he would’ve liked. Meredith’s face snapped away from him so quickly it was as if he’d physically hit her.

“If you really loved her. Enough to marry her. Her response shouldn’t have mattered,” her voice was as sharp as a knife. “She loves you and she’s been unfortunate enough to have most of the people she’s loved taken away from her. Do you know how rare it is for Amelia to come to Maggie and I teary eyed because she finally feels safe and loved and not being pressured into anything by the person she loves? " Meredith took a step back as if she didn't want to continue but couldn't help herself. "Amelia is a runner. She breaks under the expectations that the people that she loves have of her and she functions under the fear that the people she loves are going to leave her or die. So if you want to be an ass and make her feel like she isn’t enough for you because she doesn’t feel the need to commemorate her love to you on a stupid peice of paper, I will remove you from my sister’s life.” She was gone before he could even think of a reply and he stared wordlessly at the spot she’d just vacated.

“No,” the voice was so soft he could barely hear it. His head whipped to where she was lying. “No, no, no, no.” Amelia’s eyes were wide and she recoiled as he reached out to touch her. Her heart monitor climbed and he pulled back his hand. She was looking at him in a way that made his skin crawl. He realized, then, that she was looking at him in fear. She looked scared. It shocked him how quickly everything had fallen apart. How quickly he’d gone from someone she’d loved to someone she felt as though she barely knew. But it wasn’t really that quickly, a part of him was whispering over his shoulder. You just didn’t want to accept it.

“Hey.” The words sounded stupid as soon as they left his mouth. “It’s okay. You’re okay.” He found himself wondering what had happened to her over the last couple of days, the bruises scattered along her arms had become more evident as colour had returned to her skin. She gagged suddenly, moaning in a way that made him sick and he slid a kidney dish under her just in time. There didn’t seem to be much in her stomach so it was mostly dry heaving. Her heart monitor climbed every time he tried to touch her and he gave up on trying to hold back her hair.

“She’s awake?” Teddy stood in the doorway. Amelia looked up at her blankly before laying her head back against the hospital bed and staring up at the ceiling. The shame in her eyes were evident. Link nodded to Teddy, who gave him a somewhat genuine smile. “I’ll just do a quick vitals check.”

“No,” Amelia moaned, the pain in her voice causing Teddy to stop in her tracks. “I just want to go home. Let me go home.”

“You’re not going to go home though, are you?” Link glanced up to find Richard standing at the foot of the hospital bed, arms crossed. His stern expression was slightly wavering. Link wondered how hard it was for him to even be within two meters of her.

“Shut the fuck up,” Amelia spat, pulling her IV out of her wrist and throwing it across the room hard enough that the machine screeched against the concrete floor. Link grimaced as the IV site began to bleed. The sudden bout of energy seemed to exhaust her as she collapsed back onto the bed.

“We’re good for now, Doctor Altman,” Richard said softly, not wanting to watch as his coworker, and friend, incriminated herself in front of someone she’d regret. “You can go home with Maggie or I can check you into a rehab clinic, the choice is yours.” Link’s eyes fell to the floor, his face burning at the idea that he couldn’t be trusted to take care of her.

“Maggie’s on her honeymoon,” Amelia mumbled, the anger dying out in her eyes as she realized what his response would be before he even spoke it.

“I called her,” Richard confirmed her prediction. “Meredith is taking care of Scout and I shouldn’t even be in the same room as you.” Hot tears spilled down Amelia’s cheeks as she glared at him. You ruin everything. The voice in her head had been telling her over and over since she’d woken up.

“Rehab. I choose rehab. Call her and tell her not to come.” Maggie had arrived at the hospital an hour ago but Link decided to keep his mouth shut.

“Fine,” Richard sighed. “I’ll call right now.” He stepped outside where his daughter was waiting anxiously and placed both hands on her shoulders trying to calm her down.

“I need to go in and see her,” Maggie’s breathing was asynchronous, she held her shaky hands into her chest, trying to look into her sister’s hospital room.

“Don’t,” Richard warned. “She’s not herself right now. I shouldn’t have called and stressed you out. She chose rehab.” He watched as her face twisted in confusion.

“What? That’s ridiculous.” Maggie shook her head in disbelief. “Let me take her home.”

“I wasn’t expecting her to be this bad. It’s too much responsibility to put on anyone. I...I just don’t think it would be a good idea, Maggie.” He pulled her into a hug as she started to sob.

“Link, is he…” she trailed off as she buried her face into her biological father’s scrub top.

“It’s not anyone’s fault,” Richard sighed. “But out of everyone, he’s the last person that should be taking care of her right now.” Maggie nodded, cursing herself for not doing more as she had watched Amelia change over the last couple of months. “Has she mentioned anything about her friend Charlotte? She needs an ally, someone who understands how her brain works. I know how much you care about her, Maggie, but you can’t help her the way she really needs in a couple of days when the realization of what she’s done has hit.”

“Charlotte, the one in L.A.? I’ve talked to her a couple times, never really for too long, just over FaceTime when Amelia used to call her while living at Meredith’s.”

“Amelia brought her up a lot at meetings,” Richard bit the inside of his lip, hoping that he was making the right decision. “I think we need to call Charlotte. I think that she knows Amelia on a level that not any of us in Seattle can really understand.”

“Okay,” Maggie nodded, pushing her own feelings aside. “Get St. Ambrose Hospital in Los Angeles on the phone,” she loudly ordered to the intern, sitting at the nurses station, who had been just out of earshot, “And tell them I need to speak to Doctor Charlotte King.”

[ponnearponfarponwhereveryouare]

negotiations of home

Pairing: TOS!McSpirk

Summary: Spock takes the time to examine his thoughts (and feelings) towards the Enterprise's captain and chief medical officer. He decides the most logical course of action is to address his findings.

Rating: G | Word Count: 1862 | also on ao3

Spock had long since learned not to say thoughts tied to emotion. Such ruminations had to be examined critically and in such a time and location so as to not interfere with his work. Only in this way could he put logic first, by making a habit of it. He was not sure if this was the process other Vulcans applied, but it was the one that worked best for him.

He knew he was successful when he was able to apply this method around members of his family; with positive emotions and negative. Only in absolute private he might tell his mother he loved her, tell his sister he missed her, or tell his brother that they were still, always, family.

It was best not to think about the emotions that came up involving his father. Or the feelings around the fact that his family was two and a half parts human and two and a half parts Vulcan. Of not being a whole.

Those walls had begun to slip, of late. And that was because he was faced with emotions that were not tangled up in his Vulcan upbringing. Feelings that included a sense of being held together, a chance at healing his two halves.

Which brought him to the matter at hand.

"You're you, Spock!" Leonard snapped, though the anger was not directed at Spock himself. The doctor was pacing about Jim's quarters, while Spock sat at the Captain's desk observing him. "You're not broken! All you have to do in this life is be honest with yourself."

Spock raised a brow. "Is this a time for the old anecdote, physician heal thyself?"

Leonard managed to scowl deeper. "Damn it, man, at least I'm trying. Talking about these sorts of things with someone you trust and care about is important."

"Is that not what I am attempting to do?" Spock asked. Before Jim had been called away to deal with a potential issue among the Enterprise's current guests, Spock had gathered both Jim and Leonard together with the purpose of working through a line of thought that had followed him around for the past 30 days.

Leonard deflated a bit, rubbing his hands together in a nervous manner. Spock attempted not to stare, as the emotions that evoked were ones he had not yet begun to speak of.

"Do not worry, Leonard, I will not continue until Jim has returned," Spock said in a tone he hoped would be reassuring.

"How am I supposed to do that, with you calling us by our names?" Leonard protested, now tossing his hands up in the air.

"It is a personal matter, so it would be illogical to use your professional titles."

"And that's why I'm nervous! Last time you had a personal matter that you had to involve me and Jim in, you were dying or your father was dying." Leonard didn't return to pacing, instead, he crossed the room and kneeled beside Spock. His blue eyes were wide and filled with concern.

"My apologies. I did not mean to raise alarm," Spock said, reaching out towards Leonard. He wasn't sure what he'd do, but he needed such dramatics to end. It brought an uncomfortable warmth that was tempting to lean into. To drown in. “Please, stand.” Spock stopped himself before he actually could touch Leonard’s elbows.

Leonard seemed to take a long enough time pondering this request as to border on his usual teasing. He finally stood, pressing a hand against Spock’s knee as he did. He settled then into Jim’s other chair so that they were now directly across from each other. “So you’re not dying.”

“Not that I am aware of. Though as my doctor, I believe you are to give me such status updates.”

This returned Leonard to a... huffier state. “I’d be able to do that if you didn’t lie to me.”

“Vulcan’s do not lie,” Spock reminded him.

“Oh really? Then it seems like I’ll need a copy of whatever definition you’re using for the word.”

Jim returned to catch that last exchange. “Gentlemen. I see I haven’t missed anything.” He was smiling, coming to lean against the partition that divided his quarters.

Spock found himself calmed by Jim’s presence. “The Andorian ambassador is settled?”

“Yes, Scotty was able to change the climate control settings for her quarters to something comfortable,” Jim said, as he looked from Spock to Leonard and back. “Where were we?”

“Spock was telling us something that is a “personal matter",” Leonard provided. “I’ve got him to promise no one is dying.”

“Statistically in the breadth of the universe and even just among life as we know it, at this moment-”

“Shut it!” Leonard’s tone was supposed to be sharp, but it was too rounded by his own laughter.

“Very well,” Spock turned towards Leonard, both eyebrows raised, and remained silent.

“Jim, look what he’s doing now!” Leonard complained, leaning closer towards Spock, as close as he could get with the desk between them.

Jim’s laughter filled the silence, and he crossed the room to sit on the corner of his desk. “Spock, Bones, come now.” His face was in that easy grin of his, the one Spock associated with times when all was well. “Spock, what did you want to talk to us about?”

Yes, the mission at hand. One that he had set for himself because, given the nature of their work and luck, it seemed best to share his thoughts sooner than later. Spock had planned the words he would say carefully, trying to predict what response he might get. He would not call himself nervous, as that emotion tended to be one of the most illogical.

“Yeah Spock, sorry,” Leonard smiled kindly, leaning back again. His foot nudged Spock’s under the table in what must have been encouragement. Leonard rarely apologized for their mutual antagonization of the other, another sign he was taking this seriously.

“It has come to my attention that I hold you both in strong regard.” Spock thought that was as good a place to start as any, even as his practiced words seemed to fall away. He should have written them down... But that would have no doubt brought Leonard’s amusement and possibly ire. “I also know, while it is not the practice on Vulcan, for many cultures it is customary to let those you care about know of your regard towards them.”

Both Leonard and Jim were silent, which was not one of the responses Spock had anticipated. It was Leonard who finally spoke and said, “Are you sure you’re not dying? Because you just admitted to having an emotion. Several, in fact.”

“Indeed. It was our last away mission that brought me to further examine my feelings towards both Jim and yourself.” Spock had been the one, after 27.8 frantic hours, to find and rescue the captain and chief medical officer. Between coordinating the rescue effort, Spock found his thoughts consumed with things he wished to tell them both. “I... care for you both. My existence is greatly improved by your presence in it.”

He hoped that they could understand all he was not able to say. ‘Don’t leave me, I need you, I missed you, I-’

“Spock,” Jim’s voice was soft, and when Spock looked up at him, so was his expression. “I feel the same.” He then looked towards Leonard, and Spock followed his gaze.

Leonard looked between them both, and his blinking grew more rapid. When he finally spoke, his voice was rough. “Damnit, I don’t know what I’d do if I lost either of you. You’ve both managed to pick up my pieces and put them back together. I can’t remember the last time I felt complete.”

Of course, Leonard, who was better with emotions than either Spock or Jim, would put the words to it: that there existed between them something that exceeded a friendship bond. They had become family. Partners. A tension settled then, the question -

“What do we do?” Jim voiced it. “It’s not as if we can stop going on dangerous missions. That’s not the life we signed up for.”

“I know neither of you could be happy sitting by,” Leonard agreed. “You’re explorers to your cores. And someone who asks you to change your very nature isn’t worth keeping.”

Keep. Spock turned the word over in his mind. “It seems that what is in our power to change is the parameters of our relationship.”

Jim let out a breath that sounded like ‘yes.’

“If you’re suggesting what I think you’re suggesting, that’d be against regulation.” Leonard pointed at Spock. “Would you be okay with that?”

“Affirmative.” Spock had to focus to keep his tone even. This was not one of the outcomes he had let himself ponder. His desire for it would have become overwhelming.

“What about the ol’ needs of the many over the few?” Leonard said, and Spock knew he wasn’t arguing because he was against the possibility now hanging heavy in the room, more tangible than it had ever been before because it had been named. Leonard was making sure Spock was sure; that he was comfortable.

“You are both professionals, whom I trust not to let the personal adversely interfere with the running of the ship.” It was an easier answer than he thought. “I even theorize that such a change in our relationship could improve personal performance.”

“Now that is a theory that I want to test.” Jim moved to stand, so he could face them both fully. His smile was back and wider than Spock could recall seeing it. “I’d like to very much.”

Leonard was smiling now as well. “Why am I surprised that this has been the weirdest way I’ve ever been asked out?”

“Come on Bones, for science,” Jim’s eyes twinkled, and he reached out to catch one of Leonard’s hands. “But more importantly, for... love.”

Spock watched the way their fingers fit together, and almost missed that Jim had spoken the final unspoken word. He looked back towards their expressions, before standing himself and coming closer, to stand between them both.

“Of course I will,” Leonard said. “Spock?”

“Affirmative,” Spock said again, and added, while carefully watching Leonard’s expression. “It should prove fascinating.” Before Leonard could offer a retort to that, Spock held out his index and middle finger to him. A gesture he knew the good doctor had picked up the significance of.

Leonard’s eyes went wide once more, but he didn’t hesitate before reciprocating the gesture. Once he had, Spock felt a wave of affection he could not pinpoint as his own emotion or Leonard’s. Spock then offered the same to Jim, who looked like he had been given a gift to rival his captaincy of the Enterprise.

When Jim’s finger’s met Spock’s, the three of them stood visibly connected in a way Spock knew their lives had already long been. This, then, was proof that he would not lose them. At least, not without making sure they knew what they meant to him.

It spoke of a new beginning, a new adventure, shared between the three of them.

[the-crows-typist]

lemilia-san!! could i request a jamil x reader ficlet with the word “secure” please? thank you 🥺🥺

The Possibilities are Endless

“You're the strongest person I know.”

Quiet, calm, calculated, those were the words used to describe the vice dorm leader of the Scarabia dorm: Jamil Viper. He knew the exact time to act on a task, how to do it, and how to execute it perfectly. Some theorized that it was trained into him by being the ward of the Al-asim’s heir Kalim for many years but in reality, Jamil was just good at noticing things.

That’s why when the prefect of the Ramshackle dorm didn’t come in for a few days, he was one of the first people to notice it but he never made a move. It was too early, perhaps they just had the flu.

Three days later and Jamil noticed the familiar back of the prefect present from behind. They seemed healthy but...Something wasn’t right. He looked back to the board where Divus Crewel was writing important notes. “The heart of a magician often, if not always, affects the quality of magic.” He explained as he drew a caricature of a heart. “A heart struck with fear or anger can or may cause the quality of magic to be sporadic or out of control which, as a result, can cause a sudden increase of blot on your magical pen. A heart struck with sadness or pain often produces a bad quality and more energy is spent to try and stabilize it, be mindful that too much spent magic coupled with negative emotions can induce a state of overblot. That is why, my dear puppies, you must always maintain a levelled head.” His crop tapped his gloved hand and Jamil could feel the room become silent as the students heeded his warnings.

“Do not let your emotions overtake your magic. It will lead to consequences that are not easily reversed.”

The prefect was the last person out of the room that day with Crewel telling them to stay back and to explain their absences. Jamil stayed out of sight but within range to hear their conversation, he felt like his senior Rook but justified that his ‘spying’ was for the betterment of someone he had respect for.

“You’ve missed a week’s worth of school.”

“I’m sorry.”

“Is that all you have to say for you falling behind by one week?” Crewel’s voice was void of his disappointment, Jamil observed, it was as if he was concerned for them. “One or two days, I understand but an entire week can throw you off. You and I both know that repeating a year is not easy.”

The prefect remained silent, their hands on their sides and their eyes never looking at the disappointed but concerned teacher. “Tell me what’s wrong. What happened?”

Jamil couldn’t see them stiffen under Crewel’s gaze, the bout of hesitance that washed over them the moment he asked. They couldn’t answer. “It’s personal, professor...It wouldn’t count as an excuse for my absences.” Fidgety, the prefect’s body hunched over and Divus had no other choice to but to send them away.

“I will be assigning you additional worksheets for you to answer so you can catch up. See to it that you have it finished by Friday.”  There lied the voice of concern that a guardian would have for their child. Jamil leaned back against the wall as the prefect said their thanks and walked out of the room. Back hunched, eyes drooped, lips tight.

“Didn’t go so well, did it?” He asked, walking with them down the hall and to the cafeteria. “No.” Their voice was soft and quivering like a bird in a winter storm, begging for warmth in the onslaught of the frigid winds that howled through the white backdrop. Jamil noticed the sad gleam in their eyes.

It’s too early to act now.

“Come eat lunch with me.” He said with a smile gracing his lips. One that was disarming and oozing of kindness and understanding; a smile that someone could trust. “You look like you could use some company.”

Kalim was more than happy to accept a few new people to join him for lunch. The food he had smelled good and was cooked all by Jamil himself. “Jamil is a great cook, there’s no doubt about it.” A steamed bun was passed the prefect’s way. “Dig in, you can as much as you like.”

The prefect didn’t have much an appetite but ate the bun little by little; the seasoned meat coated their tongue and filled their senses. Jamil’s cooking was indeed good and slowly, they were starting to feel better.

Jamil caught the small smile on their lips and all he felt was relief.

 “Jamil, can I ask you something?” The prefect suddenly asked, looking up from the worksheet they were working on. The two decided to spend their free time in the library and work on the sheets Crewel gave them, Jamil decided to tag along after Kalim said he’ll be taking extra hours to practice a song.

Jamil figured it was away to grant him alone time, Kalim has been doing that a lot recently.

“What is it?”

They put their pen down; it was a regular fountain pen with the absence of a jewel. Since they weren’t capable of magic, the school opted not to issue them one. The gold lining shined against the yellow light of the school’s library, bathing them in a comfortable atmosphere.

“I just want to know why you’re helping me,” They began.

“Does it matter who I choose to extend my help to?” He asked but soon regretted his tone when he saw the flash of fear pass the eyes of the prefect. Though hours have passed since their scolding, it still lay fresh on their mind.

“No, no, I don’t mean that I don’t appreciate it—“They backtracked, shaking their hands with a scared expression. “It’s just...We aren’t very close. The only time we ever talked was...Well, during that one winter break.”

He did not heed Crewel’s warning; he let his heart get the best of his magic and ended up hurting those he shouldn’t have hurt.  He remembers the day his anger had gotten the best of him and he ended doing things that cost him the trust and love of others. He remembers the scared and scornful expressions of his dorm mates, Kalim’s promise to forgive him, and the prefect...Who visited any time they could just to check on him.

Somehow, no matter how short that visits were, it meant more to him than they realized.

Someone from the outside cared about him, not the vice dorm leader he made himself out to be.

“I respect you. It takes a lot of guts to survive four overblots.” Their eyes widened slightly. “You may not see it, prefect, but...You’re one of the strongest people in the school. Take it from me.”

“...You’re always so guarded with you words so to hear something so heartfelt,” A smile adorned their face, one close to tears and of immense gratitude. “It feels so comfortably weird.”

Jamil’s smile widened just a little bit, little by little he was gaining their trust and soon the worksheets were finished just before the portals could close. The two wished each other goodnight, Jamil hoped to see them the next day.

 But he didn’t.

He didn’t see them the entire day after that. And just when he felt that he was getting somewhere with them; frustration bubbled within him and anger boiled, not anger at them but at himself. They cared about him but he couldn’t administer the same feeling back.

He was too secure with his feelings.

He waited too long.

He...

“Go to them, Jamil.”

Kalim’s smile opposed Jamil’s turmoil, the dorm leader patted his back. “I can handle myself without you. I’ll be alright. Go.” For all the years he’s been with Kalim, for all the times he was forced to look the other way to guarantee his enjoyment, it was only now that he noticed how vibrant his smile was.

“I’ll be back as soon as possible.”

“I can wait.”

Jamil ran from his post, looking for the person he cared for the most.

 He was beginning to doubt if they were inside the school, he opened the gym door with a loud screech and took a step in. The usually well-lit and noisy building was now cool and silent. The ringing silence evoked a suspicious calm.

“Prefect?” He called out, walking further into the gym.

“Jamil..?” A door opened, the prefect’s head peaked out of the storage room. “There you are.” He ran towards them, a hand to their shoulder not long after. “I was so worried about you. Are you alright?”

“Why did you find me?”

His smile was warm and maybe a little offended at the question. “What kind of question is that? I care about you.”

 The two camped inside the storage room, the prefect leaning against Jamil’s shoulder. “You’re not as secure as you once were...That smile said it all.” They commented, hands intertwined with his.

“Is that a bad thing?”

“No...”

“...”

“It’s just...I just want to go home.” They began, eyes closed and snuggling closer to his shoulder. “I miss it.”

His arm went around their shoulder, squeezing comfortably. “You will.”

Jamil observed the prefect’s face for a moment and soon caught a smile of comfort amidst the tears that slipped out their secure mask. Little by little, their heart began to show and little by little, ink blots in their heart began to fizzle out in the arms of comfort.

[lxveille]

another love song

mk x reader

word count: ~ 2080 warnings: references to alcohol a/n: university!au; another ‘trying to get back into the feel of writing’ fic so... idk ?? tbh it’s more of a fic treatment but here’s what i’m posting anyway

Minkyun has gotten inspiration for his songs from you before. This one is different.

You’re nearly always the first person to place money into Minkyun’s open guitar case when he’s busking. 

More often than not, he tries to return your money once he’s packed up for the afternoon - but you refuse, and tell him he earned it. Then he usually spends more on you than you gave by buying you bubble tea or coffee before the two of you trek back to campus.

You’re not sure what you’d do with your Saturday afternoons if not for him.

You’d met Minkyun in a literature class your first year of university. At first it had been easy to write him off as a high school class clown having some difficulty adjusting to university expectations. Except that sometimes, when your professor would really dig into the themes of a text, he’d have something to share that would stick with you. A thought - sometimes chaotically explained - that would rumble around in your brain for a week, even. Eventually, you decided a proper introduction was in order. A fatal mistake, if you’d hoped to keep up some aloof, studious front. He had a way of warming others up, it turned out. You discovered he was friends with a number of people with unfriendly faces who somehow transformed into lighthearted, open books in Minkyun’s presence.  

You feel a little lighter around him, too. 

And on the days you don’t, he invites you to unburden. 

It became a common tableau: you sprawled out, exasperated, on the beanbag chair in his dorm room, ranting about anything that bothered you while he lay on his bed, half-propped up against the wall and strumming occasional notes on his guitar. A last complaint and a final chord, and then Minkyun would be on his feet with an idea of what the two of you should do to shake it out of your system for once and for all. Those plans only sometimes included just enough beer that the both of you were giddy and ready to laugh at anything. 

If Minkyun had to name one good reason to get drunk with you, it was this: it was the only time you’d sing. The very first time you let yourself break into song in front of him had been at a bar. It had been difficult to make out your voice over the speakers, but Minkyun heard. Maybe more important, though, was the way you swayed your shoulders and rocked into each syllable. 

He would tease sometimes that you ought to join him when he busked. He might make more with you joining in. 

“Ah, but then you’d have to split it with me, too,” you’d reply. You assumed, at least, that he must be kidding. 

It was spring the first time Minkyun asked you to listen to something original he’d composed. There was something personal about it that had never occurred to you when listening to a song before. For all the times you had watched him play, it was like looking at him from a new angle. Just as his commentary used to linger on your mind, his songs began to do the same.

 And in the winter of your second year, he asked if it’d be okay to use some of your own rants as inspiration in songs. 

“What?” you asked. 

“Just - the way you talk about the guys you’re getting over, and stuff like that. It could make for good lyrics.” 

“You’re going to quote me?”

“Well,” he lingered on the syllable, then broke into a dimpled smile. “No. But I don’t wanna take inspiration without telling you!”

So it happened that when he performed songs of his own, you sometimes began to recognize bits of your own infatuations and fallings outs weaved into his lyrics. The way he framed it, it usually made it easier to get over whoever had been behind the heartbreak. 

Minkyun isn’t busking today. The drizzle is enough that it wouldn’t be worth it. All the same, he spent the better part of the morning sending you messages asking you to come over. 

When you finally cave, you put on a front of unhappiness at the door, shaking out your umbrella before passing it over to his extended hand.

“I brought some stuff for my class so I can try to get work done like I’d planned,” you told him. 

He pouted for dramatic flair. “So you’re really just gonna act like you’re at your room at mine?”

“That’s what we agreed to! I told you I wanna get this reading done so I can just be hungover tomorrow without having to worry about Monday’s lecture.” 

“Damn, and people try to frame university drinkers as irresponsible.” 

“What can I say? I’m flawless,” you comment dryly as you pass into his room. 

“So you’re still going out even if the rain keeps up?” Minkyun asks. He settles into his usual spot near the foot of his mattress. You rummage through your bag for a textbook and your printed copy of the syllabus before finding a spot somewhere closer to the pillow. 

“Mm,” you affirm, “I think I’m officially entirely over Seungcheol, so it’ll be good for me to go out.” 

“Ahhh.” There’s something guttural and mischievous in the way he makes the sound. It’d be fair to expect some ribbing comment on how transparent you could be with these things. No such remark comes. 

It’s some time later, when you’re nearly done with your assigned reading, that Minkyun announces that he finished a new song recently. 

“Like one of your own?” you ask. 

He nods, and adds how he’d been thinking of playing it out this weekend if it hadn’t been for the poor turn in weather. 

You exaggerate a gasp. “You were going to share a song with a crowd before sharing it just with me?” There’s no real offence. It’s only a pattern that you’d noticed. Sometimes he’d say it felt needed, if only because he based part of the lyrics’ premise on your own experiences instead of his own. 

“I know!” Minkyun laughs airly. “Mother nature said not to, I guess!” 

“Well, are you going to play it now then?” You should tell him to wait until you’ve finished this chapter. That way you won’t entirely lose track of things. But you’re not infallible; and if there’s one thing you’re horrible at resisting it’s the chance to hear Minkyun play. 

He hops up from the bed to fetch his guitar. And he plays. 

It’s a love song, which doesn’t come as a surprise. Minkyun told you from the beginning - or at least when he first asked if he could take inspiration from your own heart’s tribulations - that he liked to write about that feeling. The good, the bad, or at the very least what he imagined of it. 

This song doesn’t feel familiar. Usually you can tell when he’s written indirectly about your own affairs. So these endearing words, these syrupy lines of dedication, of patiently waiting for the other one to notice… They must be from his own experience. 

A corner of your heart goes sour at that thought, and retorts that it might be one of his other friends. Devoted and hoping it won’t go unnoticed would be right up Yuto’s alley, you tell yourself as your search for a likely suspect. You don’t let yourself think too much on why you don’t want it to be Minkyun’s own feelings. 

Except there’s something else that bothers you. The way he keeps his eyes on his strumming fingers, or closes them altogether. 

Normally Minkyun looks at you now and then, and smiles at your reactions to his music. Even with the unhappy songs. 

You squeeze the textbook in your lap. A corner digs into your palm. He’s somewhere in the second chorus and your mind is fogging over with an irritation. It’s not his fault. You’re not mad at him. 

You just wish you had realized you want to fall in love with Minkyun sooner.

The last chord hangs in the air before you can fully process this thought. He looks at you expectantly. 

“What do you think?” Minkyun asks. 

You force a smile. “It’s sweet.” 

He leaves space for you to elaborate. When you don’t, the corners of his lips drag down a bit. “Just sweet?” He repeats. “Is it lame?” 

“No! It’s just - it’s different from some of your other stuff. But it’s sweet. I like it. I think, um… I just was expecting it to be something based on my whole recent back and forth thing. Since you wanted to play it for me,” you try to cover for your lackluster response. 

Minkyun looks you over for a moment, then chuckles. “Not every song can be about your love life.” 

“I know! Of course! Geez, that’s not what I meant,” you rush to say, loudly, as if you needed to cover the sound of some kind of fracture in your heart. 

He leans forward to set his guitar carefully on the tiles, its neck leaning against the bed frame. “I guess that’s not totally accurate to say here though.” He shakes his head to get his hair out of his eyes as he looks your way again. 

“...What?”  

“Ah… You’re pretty clueless, huh?” Minkyun sounds content with himself, and he’s barely holding back a grin. 

“I’ve never gone on like that about someone.” 

“Yeah, I know.”  

You eye him over a few times quickly, trying to reach a conclusion that feels safe. All you can theorize for sure is that he’s practiced this all, and somehow it’s going to plan. Maybe. “What are you on about?” you ask, tone turning suspicious. 

He laughs more fully now, then shifts his position to face you directly from the other end of his duvet. “You.” 

You glance around him like this could be some hidden camera prank. “What?”

“You,” Minkyun repeats, “It’s about you.” 

In the most foolish move of the day, you suddenly felt your throat dry out the same way it does before you cry. It must have been too much at once: to realize a desire and think it ripped away only to have it suddenly offered up so easily, so soon. 

“You’re not serious.” 

“Is it bad if I am?” he asks, leaning to the right a bit as he watches your reaction. You press your palm to your clavicle, trying to get your heart and your mind in sync. “Am serious, I mean.”  

All you can manage is a shake of your head. 

Minkyun grins bright and leans forward to put a hand over the one still at your side. “You really didn’t notice?” He pulls off incredulous and teasing in one go. If you weren’t so off kilter, you might want to scold him for it somehow. 

“What was I supposed to know?” You ask instead.

He shakes his head. For a fleeting instant, you worry he’s about to brush the whole thing aside. That worry is killed pretty quickly when he leans closer instead and delicately presses an experimental kiss against your lips. 

Minkyun is back to his side of the bed in the next moment, nearly like it hadn’t happened at all.  

Your hand lifts from your clavicle to allow your fingers to brush over your own lips, still tingly with the affection. Or maybe just from his lip balm rubbing off on you. 

He gives you a second more before asking, “Still okay?” 

“Um, yeah.” 

His smile returns. “Still going out to find someone new tonight?” 

“Oh my god.” You cover your face with your hands and accuse, “You’re the worst.”

“So… is that a yes, you are?” 

He knows it isn’t. 

He’s spent all this time getting to know you. Now he gets to be the one on the receiving end of that look in your eyes. 

“Would you stop that?” You muster up as much of a snip in your voice as you can. Your gaze gives away that you’re not really annoyed. It would be difficult to be, given the way your head is still spinning from his confession.    

“Stop what?” 

The smile on his face suggests he already knows. Nevertheless, you don’t give Minkyun the satisfaction of admitting he’s teasing you. “Just kiss me again,” you swerve to a demand. Frankly, it’s the main thing you’d been thinking since the first. You’ll figure out the rest of your feelings later. 

For now, Minkyun is hardly going to deny you that.

[magioftheseas]

Rivalmance Week Ficlets #3

For the AkeShuAke Rivalmance 2021

Day 3: Illness/Injury/Flowers

Under a read more as it’s almost 1.5K but can also be read on Ao3.

There’s someone who keeps bringing him flowers without fail and it’s quite the mystery.

There’s a lot that he doesn’t know. He’s been in the hospital for a few weeks now. No memory—not even a name. Some of the nurses have taken to calling him Taro as sort of a joke and a means of practicality, but he doesn’t think that’s right.

He doesn’t know, but he just has the feeling.

There’s a lot about himself that’s strange. The injuries, for starters. According to the doctors, he had been inflicted with a near-fatal bullet wound to the chest. He had even been comatose. It was suggested that his memory loss was due to shock, but even the doctor seemed unsure.

All the same, he was treated and recuperated. The staff could be rather detached at times, but he was helped quite a bit. Either out of professionalism, actual compassion or—well. Because of his looks. He may not know much, but he has noticed that he gets fawned over.

So much so that when he gets the first bouquet, the nurse just giggles.

“Seems you have an admirer, Taro-kun,” she remarks, cupping her cheek. “Apparently this young man saw you and just couldn’t resist!”

The bouquet is addressed to his room number. There’s a note attached but not any words on it. Just a scribbled drawing of a crow. A similar drawing of a crow accompanied the next bouquet. And the one after that.

Thus, he had taken to calling the secret admirer Crow.

...except something about that felt wrong. Really wrong. Wrong in a way that he can’t quite parse.

Alas, he had nothing else to call this admirer beyond Strange and Persistent, so Crow it was.

Crow was very strange. And very persistent. While the bouquets were always arranged beautifully, the flowers chosen were—hm. Red china asters and daisies. Quite the unusual pick, one that seemed suspiciously pointed.

He suspected that Crow knew him, but couldn’t do much with this suspicion besides theorize.

Was Crow a former lover unable to face his amnesiac once partner?

(That didn’t feel right.)

Was Crow a stiff colleague who merely felt for his plight but didn’t feel comfortable approaching him?

(That didn’t feel right either.)

Was Crow a stalker taking his opportunity or even a prankster?

(For some reason, he preferred that option.)

Well, he was about to be transferred soon. He was still getting used to his crutches and he was still experiencing chest pains and headaches, but the doctors said he was sturdy and stubborn. Admittedly, he preened under the praise even as he still felt frustrated at how clear it was that the staff coming to a loss of what to do with him.

No one had come to ‘claim’ him as it were. Perhaps he didn’t have anyone. No one at all. Not even enemies.

No one except the annoyingly aloof and elusive Crow. So, he writes up a note of his own, demanding answers and at least a presence, to be given to Crow at the next opportunity. Since he was at the end of his rope, he wasn’t sure what he’d do if he got nothing in response or, worse, if Crow decided to stop sending flowers altogether.

Imagine his surprise (and relief) when he’s finally told he has a visitor and finally, finally, the mysterious Crow makes his appearance.

He’s not sure what he expected. But—this person, this young man who can’t be further than a year from him in age was—well.

Well, his curly black hair looked like a bird’s nest, so perhaps Crow wasn’t so unfitting. Except he just doesn’t want to call this person that. He doesn’t know why, he just doesn’t, especially when this boy is so miserably hunched before him with a gaze obscured by thick, overbearing glasses.

“Taro-kun,” the nurse chided sweetly. He almost forgot about her. “It’s rude to gape.”

He shuts his mouth, swallows, and—“Sorry. Can you give us a moment?” Whoever he was, he smiles pleasantly like it’s something he’s done all his life. Even if he’s not the slightest bit happy. Whatever. That smile is enough to get the nurse giddy and eagerly going along with it.

But, Crow has straightened up, and—oh, Crow’s gaze is dark. A grim steel, piercing like a blade.

“...you really don’t remember anything?” Crow asks once they’re alone, and, wow, that’s quite the deep voice for someone so dead set on appearing unassuming. “Nothing at all?”

“Obviously not,” he replied, unable to help a scowl. In a way, he is pissed that it’s turning out Crow is unfairly attractive once observed. He waves his hand at Crow, gesturing for the other to come closer. Crow does, almost too quickly.

Almost too eagerly.

“I don’t...” Crow is looking at him with such expectation that it’s embarrassing. “I don’t...remember anything. And I don’t have anyone or anywhere else to go. You’re my only lead, so I just... I wanted to actually talk to you.”

“You don’t know me,” Crow pointed out.

“I don’t—but I get the feeling I can trust you.” He needs to pick out his words carefully. “If not, well...it’s better than rotting away without a clue.”

Crow’s lips curl into the slightest smile. It only reaches his eyes enough to be a mere flicker in that intense gaze. It’s here that he’s starting to piece together that whatever relationship he had with Crow was more complicated than he feared.

And he is...afraid. For some reason, he’s very afraid.

“...can I get your name first? I want something to call you.”

“What have you been calling me in your head?”

It’s annoying how afraid he is of someone who both interests and frustrates him. More so when this person flusters him as well.

“Because of the drawing, I think of you as Crow.” Why does he feel so embarrassed to admit this? Urgh. “It was that or Stalker. But if you insist on being obtuse, I suppose I can settle for Weirdo.”

And Crow—Stalker, Weirdo, Crow, Someone Important laughs at him.

It’s such an attractive laugh. What the hell.

“I guess it’s not that weird,” the person admits, but then, he sweeps down, taking his hand and gripping it tight between his gloved fingers. “I’m Akira. Kurusu Akira. That drawing—was supposed to be you. You’re Crow.”

...I’m Crow?

That—that actually sounded right.

That sounded right.

“You do know me!” he bursts out with, gripping Akira’s hand greedily and eagerly in return. Akira does flinch, gets red in the face, and he’s too excited to take satisfaction from that. Finally, finally—! “Then, you’ll help me right? Akira? You—you know me. I-I’m not asking you to take me in, but...god, I feel like I’ve been waiting for something for so long. And your flowers—!” He needs to take a breath. Ah, was he perhaps gripping Akira’s hand too tight? “China asters—those mean recollection. In...in flower language. And change... It’s...”

It’s...strange. What was our relationship? Well, I can figure it out. I can find out. Finally, I have somewhere to go, someone to start with.

“Whatever’s between us, it’s something significant,” he presses avidly. “So—you’ll help me, right? Akira?”

He’s pleading. For some reason, he wants to beg. Grovel, even. Especially with the stricken way Akira looks at him.

“...Akira?”

Akira blinks. Why—does he look like he wants to cry? And yet, Akira’s expression still steels in resolve.

“Obviously...I’ll help you. I’m sorry I took so long, Crow. I’m sorry...” Akira looks as though there’s more to say, more to do, but he settles with this for now. “For however long it takes, I’ll help you. Even if you never get your memory back.”

He has thought about just accepting the name Taro and carving out a new name for himself. For some reason, he was never able to go through with it. And now faced with Akira, he realizes he never would. It turns out that he’s someone who hates the idea of giving up.

“I’ll do everything I can, Akira. Now. I have questions. And I expect you to answer them.”

“It’s going to be complicated,” Akira says gently as a warning, and he does hate that a little. He’s not sure if he hates the tender way Akira regards him. For now...

For now...

“We have all the time in the world, so we might as well start somewhere.”

[ollieofthebeholder]

leaves too high to touch (roots too strong to fall): a TMA fanfic

Tumblr tag || Also on AO3

Chapter 26: Jon

When Jon’s grandmother passed away peacefully in her sleep, not long after his twenty-fourth birthday, he quickly discovered that her life insurance and savings weren’t enough to cover all the bills that needed to be covered and put the house he’d grown up in on the market. He only vaguely remembers the whole procedure, as he was in something of a state of shock at the time, but he does remember accepting the first offer presented to him despite the realtor’s comments that he could “probably hold out for a bit more” if he wanted. Thus, he’s the only one not really startled at the speed with which he, Martin, and Tim find out that they’ve got the house.

To be clear: He’s not startled at the speed. He is, however, startled that they got it. Surely someone must have been willing to pay more for it, been better qualified. But no. They learn their offer has been accepted less than a week after the Primes’ disastrous encounter with Basira’s partner and the closing is scheduled for the following Friday. Martin theorizes that their position at the Magnus Institute gave them some extra clout. Tim jokes that it’s his charismatic personality. Jon frets that Elias might have had something to do with it for nefarious purposes.

Sasha finally does some research and tells them that it’s being sold by a pair of siblings barely out of their teens whose parents died unexpectedly and probably just need the money fast.

Martin doesn’t have much, just the little he managed to bring with him to the Institute when first escaping Jane Prentiss and the few things he’s re-acquired since then, and Jon’s things are still packed up from when he declined to renew the lease on his flat in August, so it’s mostly just Tim who needs to decide what he’s keeping and what he’s ready to part with or needs to replace. It takes them the better part of two Saturdays, but they manage to get everything boxed and sorted in time to move out the last full weekend of September.

The moving-in process is surprisingly fun. Sasha and the Primes even come to help (Tim suggests the latter so that Martin Prime knows his way around the house from the get-go, which is actually really sensible) and they make a party of it. Tim insists on setting up the sound system first, then gets everyone to contribute a certain number of songs to a playlist on some app he has on his phone. He puts it on shuffle and lets it play while they work together on the various rooms.

“Oh, my God,” Sasha moans after the eighth song that she evidently didn’t pick comes on. “Do any of you listen to a single band that’s put out an album since 1984?”

“Yes,�� Martin says indignantly, his cheeks coloring slightly.

“Remasters don’t count.”

Martin Prime grins. “None of mine have come up, either.”

“What did you put on?” Sasha asks suspiciously.

She gets her answer a few minutes later when, after shuffle coughs up a Spice Girls song they all tease her mercilessly about, an honest to God sea shanty comes on. Tim and Jon laugh at Sasha’s dramatic, despairing groan, but it’s hard not to respond to the Martins’ enthusiasm as they—surprisingly—harmonize along with the recording while they set up the living room.

They’re almost done assembling the new bed Tim bullied Jon into buying (“You’re not in uni anymore, you don’t need to be sleeping on a futon, and anyway, when was this made, the Thatcher premiership?” “Brown, and shut up, Tim.”), which is the last piece of furniture they need to put together, when there’s a sound from the front door—two firm, solid knocks, audible all the way upstairs. Jon nearly drops the screwdriver as his heart kicks against his ribs. It’s stupid, and he knows it’s stupid, but two knocks like that always makes him think of that book.

Tim makes a noise in the back of his throat. “God, hope the music isn’t too loud.”

“I don’t think that’s it,” Martin says, but he sounds uncertain. “I-I mean, it’s been ages.”

Jon pushes himself to his feet. “I’ll check.”

He hurries out of the bedroom before anyone can comment on the clear break in his voice. He is, and there is no way to deny it to himself, legitimately afraid of what might be outside. The likelihood of it being a being of another entity is slim, but…well, there was Mr. Spider, and Jane Prentiss knocked on Martin’s door more than a few times to keep him off-balance, so there’s always the chance. It’s something he feels he can deal with, though, so he heads out to face it.

He does not, however, expect to open the door and be faced with what is either a small child or a casserole dish with tennis shoes.

“Hello,” a tiny voice says brightly from behind the dish. There’s a bit of shifting, and then two big brown eyes and a mass of curls appear over the rim. “I’ve brought you a cake.”

Jon will deny to his dying day that those words freeze his blood in his veins and make his heart stutter to a stop, but since this might actually be his dying day, he’ll be lying if he tries. His lips part, but no sound comes out.

“And a casserole, too,” the child continues, completely oblivious to Jon’s unwarranted panic attack. “That’s not as much fun, though, but Nan says it’s important to eat good, hearty food when you’ve been doing lots of work and that cake shouldn’t be a whole meal. I think there’s no point in being a grown-up if you can’t eat whatever you want, but…” The child heaves an enormous, dramatic sigh that seems too large for such a small body. “My Nan’s very, very old, and you don’t get to be old if you don’t do something right, so she must know what she’s talking about. Anyway, we made the casserole with lots and lots of cheese and she said that was okay, so at least it’s a little better.”

“Ah—thank you?” Jon manages. “H-here, let me…take that.”

He manages to extract the casserole dish, which certainly feels as if it’s laden with cheese; it weighs the proverbial ton. Quite possibly a literal one. It’s solid enough to anchor Jon to reality, though, and he studies his benefactor. The child can’t be more than seven or eight, at the most, with a round face and limbs hidden in an oversized, threadbare sweater that looks like it’s been handed down through more than a few generations. Dangling from one arm is a wicker basket that does indeed appear to contain a cake.

“It’s a chocolate cake with marshmallow frosting,” the child says. “I tried to write ‘Welcome to the neighborhood’ on it, but I didn’t put the tip on the piping bag right and it came off, so now it’s just a mess, but it’ll taste just as good, I promise. My Nan makes the best cakes.”

Jon smiles in spite of himself. “I don’t think I have enough hands to take it from you now. Would you mind bringing it into the kitchen for me?”

“Oh, sure!” The child practically hops over the threshold. “I always wanted to see what this house was like on the inside. Tibby used to babysit for me sometimes, but she always came over to our house, never me coming over here. Nan says it’s better that way, and Tibby always said it was laid out exactly like all the other houses, but it’s not the same as seeing it for yourself. Firsthand knowledge is best, that’s what I think. What do you think?”

“I—I think I agree with you,” Jon says. He also feels a bit like he’s staring at his younger self. “I assume you live in one of the other houses on the row?”

“Two doors down,” the child agrees cheerfully. “With the window boxes. My Nan likes to garden a bit, but she can’t bend over so much anymore, so Toby set up the window boxes for her a couple years ago.”

“And, uh, who is…Toby?”

“Oh, sorry, I thought you knew. Toby McGill. He and Tibby—that’s his sister Tabitha, but everyone calls her Tibby—they were the ones selling this house after their parents died. He’s at Surrey University now and he says he’s going to stay out there when it’s all said and done, and Tibby got a job on a boat.” The child sounds deeply impressed. “I want to be a sailor someday, too. Can you imagine getting to see the whole wide world by water and getting paid for it, too? I’d never want to leave. I told Tibby she has to save a spot on the crew for me and she laughed and promised, so I can’t wait. I’m going as soon as I grow up. I’m not going to university. You don’t need to go to university for everything, you know. I know Nan really wants me to go ‘cause Mum didn’t and neither did Dad and she doesn’t want me turning out like them, but you can turn out well even if you don’t go to university, can’t you?”

“Absolutely,” Jon says gravely. He casts an involuntary glance in the direction of the stairs, thinking of Martin. “One of my housemates didn’t go to university, and he’s one of the most brilliant people I know.”

“How many of you live here, anyway?”

“Just three of us.” Jon has no idea how much this child has seen and how many people he knows are in the house at the moment.

“Oh. There used to be three of us in my house, too.” The child scuffs a toe against the carpet just before they step into the kitchen. “And then there was going to be four, but Mum died and the baby did, too.”

“I’m sorry,” Jon says softly, feeling a pang. “I grew up with my grandmother, too.”

The child looks up at Jon and smiles, in such a way that Jon can’t help but smile back. “And you turned out okay.”

“Debatable,” Jon says. He sets the casserole dish on the counter. “I’m Jon, by the way. Jonathan Sims.”

“I’m Charlie. Charlie Cane.” The child smiles up at him and hands over the basket. “It’s nice to meet you.”

“Likewise. Tell your grandmother we said thank you. I don’t know that any of us will have the energy to cook tonight. We’ll bring back the dishes tomorrow.”

“There’s no hurry. Nan doesn’t go anywhere.” Charlie flashes Jon a grin that’s missing two teeth, then turns and waves to the doorway. Jon glances up to see Martin, looking somewhere between worried and amused. “Hi! I’m Charlie Cane. Welcome to the neighborhood. Do you live here, too?”

“Um…yes. I’m Martin Blackwood. It’s…nice to meet you?” Martin raises an eyebrow at Jon.

“Charlie and his grandmother made us a casserole,” Jon says, gesturing at the counter. “And a cake.”

“That’s very nice of you. Thank you.” Martin smiles at Charlie and winks, although Jon doesn’t quite understand why.

“Welcome.” Charlie’s beaming smile could probably light the house for a week. “I’d best go before Nan thinks I’m doing something stupid again. See you later!”

He’s out the front door before Jon can respond, or even blink. He looks back to Martin, who isn’t even trying to hide his amusement. “Is everything okay?”

“Everything’s fine, Jon. We were just wondering if you were okay. You were gone for a while.”

Jon gestures vaguely at the front door. “I don’t think that child has many people to talk to. Or at least not many people who will listen to him.”

Martin snorts. “I think you’ve got yourself a new best friend.”

Jon almost wants to say something flippant like Just what I need, but thinking on it, he actually doesn’t mind all that much. “Considering how much I would have given to have an adult pay that kind of attention to me when I was his age, I think I can handle that.”

Martin reaches over and pulls Jon into a hug. Jon lets himself be comforted for a moment, then extricates himself gently and smiles. “Come on. Let’s see if the others are ready to eat.”

As it turns out, the others finished putting together the bed and even made it while Jon talked to Charlie, so they’re all too happy to come into the kitchen for a hearty meal. It’s exactly as cheese-laden as Charlie promised. Jon recounts his conversation, to general amusement, although something flickers briefly across Martin Prime’s face and Jon Prime shoots Jon an understanding and slightly frightened look when he repeats Charlie’s opening words. If anyone else notices, they give no sign of it.

Tim lets the music keep playing while they eat. Jon mostly tunes it out, no pun intended, and he rather suspects the others do too. But just as they’re scraping their plates clean—the food is delicious, and Tim declares he’s going to try and charm Charlie’s grandmother out of the recipe—Martin Prime suddenly tilts his head to one side, as if trying to catch a sound. A smile twitches at his lips, and he stands up and holds out a hand to Jon Prime. “May I?”

Jon Prime looks startled for a split-second, then smiles—no, grins—and places his hand in Martin Prime’s. He lets Martin Prime pull him away from the table and into his arms, and the two of them start slow-dancing.

Jon pauses, fork suspended over his plate, and watches them. Jon Prime lets Martin Prime lead him in a simple box step, one arm draped casually over Martin Prime’s shoulder, while Martin Prime’s hand rests firmly at his waist; their other fingers are laced together in a way that would make it difficult to telegraph intended moves if they didn’t—probably—know each other so well. The space between them is so little it’s a wonder they don’t constantly trip over each other’s feet, and before long their foreheads touch. The song is gentle and plaintive, encouragement from one partner to the other to trust and relax and allow the first to take care of the second, a promise that the second person won’t be considered weak or lesser if they allow themselves to be comforted.

I promise you’ll be safe here in my arms…

Martin Prime lifts his arm and spins Jon Prime around gently, and when Jon Prime comes back into the closed frame, he leans his head against the shoulder where his hand isn’t resting and closes his eyes. Martin Prime pulls him closer and rests his cheek alongside Jon Prime’s as they continue dancing. It’s one of the most intimate and romantic things Jon has ever seen, and he almost has to look away from it.

Almost. Not quite. Something keeps him drawn, and there’s a tiny part of Jon’s brain that suggests it probably isn’t just the pleasure at seeing someone who’s basically him safe and happy and in love mixed with the vague sense of longing for something like that—maybe not that exactly, but something like it. It may also be that watching the Primes slow dancing means he doesn’t have to look at anyone else.

The song plays itself out. Martin Prime turns his head slightly; Jon Prime turns his at the same time, and their lips meet gently in the middle. This time Jon does look away. He’s never quite been able to figure out how he feels about kissing, to be honest; it’s one of the things that sent his and Georgie’s relationship down in flames, was the fact that he always acted like you think I’ve got poison in my lip gloss, according to her. But he finds himself wondering for a moment what Martin’s lips would feel like against his, if they’d be as soft and warm as the rest of him. If it might make a difference to kiss Martin instead of Georgie, or Meredith, or Kelly. And that’s not a question he’s comfortable asking himself just then, let alone trying to answer.

The scrape of a chair breaks his attention, and he looks up to see the Primes sitting down like nothing happened, although they’re still holding hands. Tim clears his throat. “Who wants cake?”

The cake is, as promised, a bit of a mess—it looks like someone tried to tease out the blob created by the icing tip popping off with a toothpick or something, but the resultant design looks like the pictures someone showed Jon once of a web woven by a spider that had been fed caffeine, and the fact that the icing is bright red doesn’t help—but it is absolutely delicious.

Afterward, Tim and Jon store the leftovers while Martin and Sasha start on the dishes. Jon Prime glances at the kitchen clock and touches Martin Prime on the shoulder. “We should probably go. The later it gets, the more likely that…someone might cruise by the Institute, and I’d rather not risk that.”

Martin Prime squeezes Jon Prime’s hand gently, and Jon swallows on the sudden surge of nausea. They haven’t seen anything of Detective Tonner, and Basira didn’t say anything about her when she showed up last week to switch out the tapes, but the memory of the Primes’ faces when they stumbled back to Tim’s place to change and return his car is a hard one to shake. Even though Jon Prime swears he and Daisy eventually became friends, it’s the eventually that sticks out, and Jon isn’t sure what he’ll do if Daisy turns up at the Institute. It’s also obvious that the Primes are more afraid of her than they’re letting on.

Tim opens his mouth, probably to invite them to spend the night or something, but Sasha beats him to it. “Can you wait a few minutes? I’d rather not walk to the tube station by myself, if it comes to that, and I think you said there’s an entrance to the tunnels near there.”

Jon Prime frowns slightly. “I…don’t think I did, but there is.”

“We’ll walk with you, Sasha,” Martin Prime assures her.

Tim sighs theatrically. “I feel a little better, which is a relative statement not to be taken as approval.”

“Your objection is duly noted.” Sasha hands Martin a plate to dry.

All too soon, everything is cleaned up, just as the playlist comes to an end, and there’s really no way of stalling them further. There’s a round of hugs and see-you-Mondays, and then Sasha and the Primes head out the door, leaving Jon, Martin, and Tim alone in their new house.

It’s not that late, comparatively, so Jon suggests a card game. They’ve played most nights since Sasha went back to sleeping in her own flat; they’ve played a couple of games of Rummy or Go Fish, and Tim once tried to teach Jon and Martin a game he learned from his grandparents that uses a forty-card deck (Martin picked it up quickly, Jon did not), but most of the time they play Crazy Eights. Tim declares that they’re going to keep playing until either he or Jon or both manage to overtake Martin’s score, which is clearly going to be an impossible task, as he’s up by nearly a thousand points and consistently wins at least three or four games a night. Still, they give it a valiant effort. After Martin manages to go out while both Tim and Jon still have an eight each in their hand, though, they decide to call it quits for one night.

“Someday I’ll figure out how you keep doing that,” Jon says, shuffling the deck lightly before putting it back in the box.

Martin shrugs. “Practice, I guess? I used to play with my granddad a lot when I was younger. We kept a running total, too, and I think I was up three thousand points or so when he died.”

Tim gives a low whistle. “How old were you?”

“Nine. We’d been playing pretty regularly since I was five. At least one game every time I went to visit.”

Jon thinks back to the conversation he and Martin had in Tim’s kitchen the morning after Prentiss’s attack. “Is this the grandfather who had the cherry trees?”

“You remembered.” Martin looks pleased. “Yeah, he was my mum’s dad. I never met my dad’s family, that I remember anyway.” He pauses. “You, uh, you told Charlie you were raised by your grandmother. Was that…?”

Jon didn’t know Martin was there, but he’s kind of glad he doesn’t have to figure out how to bring it up. “My father’s mother. She was…formidable. My father died when I was two, from an accidental fall, and my mother died a couple years later. Surgery complications.”

“I’m sorry,” Martin says softly. “That must have been hard on you.”

“Harder on my grandmother, I think. I was barely old enough to remember them.” All Jon remembers of his father is his laugh, and he’s fairly certain that most of his memories of his mother come from his aunt.

Tim leans forward, resting his arms on the table. “Is she still around? Your grandmother?”

Jon shakes his head. “She died just before I started working at the Institute. What about yours, Tim?”

“My dad’s dad is the only grandparent still around. I think.” Tim worries at his lower lip with his teeth for a moment. “I’d like to think someone would call me if something happened, but I don’t know.”

Martin hums sympathetically. “Is he…in a home?”

“Not as far as I know. Last I heard, he was still living with my parents. Moved in when Granny died, just after I left for university.” Tim sighs. “We’re not…close. After Danny…”

Jon reaches over and touches Tim’s arm gently. “It must be hard on them, losing a son. No parent expects to outlive their child.”

“That’s just it. Mum refuses to believe he’s dead.” Tim smiles weakly. “No body, you know? Dad isn’t sure, but he also thinks I know more than I’ve told them. Grandfather all but accused me of having a hand in Danny’s disappearance.”

“What?” Jon blinks, shocked. “How could anyone think you’d—you would never.”

“I know, but…well, Dad’s family was always a bit conservative, blue collar and all that, and I’m…well, me. I think that’s why Dad encouraged my hiking and camping and all that. Hoped it would knock some ‘sense’ into me,” Tim says with a wry twist of his lips. “Once I came out as bi, though, I think they decided there was no hope left for me. It just got worse after Danny died.”

Martin’s expressive face closes down, and Jon’s stomach lurches. This is the most they’ve talked about their families in…ever, he thinks, but from the little bits of information Martin—and Martin Prime, for that matter—have let slip, Jon has formed a very unfavorable impression of Martin’s mother. He’s always kind of had a hazy idea that Tim’s family situation was better, especially after he heard the pride in his voice when he talked about Danny when giving his statement, and finding out that it wasn’t much better than theirs…

“How old were you?” he asks, not sure why. “When you—told them.”

“Seventeen. There was a guy I’d been seeing—nothing serious, really, but we had fun together—and we went out for Valentine’s Day. My parents were confused because they knew my girlfriend and I had just broken up before Christmas and I hadn’t mentioned another girl, so I told them about Steve.” Tim gets quiet for a second. “Mum cried. Dad just…told me to stop upsetting my mother and never brought it up again. Not until Grandfather started in on me.”

Jon swallows. “You’ve a great deal more courage than I have. I—I never admitted to my grandmother that I ever had any interest in boys, let alone dated one.”

“Only one? You’re missing out.” Tim’s grin is a pale echo of his usual one, but it is at least genuine. “How ‘bout you, Martin?”

“A few.” Martin relaxes with a visible effort that makes Jon’s heart ache. “Been out since I was fourteen. Mum reacted…about as well as she reacted any other time I told her something she didn’t like or did something she wasn’t expecting. I never brought anyone home to meet her or…really talked to her about my dating, and she only ever brought it up in relation to herself. Like saying it was a good thing there wasn’t any risk of me passing on any of my numerous undesirable traits to a helpless child.”

“I don’t think your mum understands what ‘bisexual’ means,” Tim points out.

“Probably not, but it doesn’t matter. I’m gay.” Martin grimaces. “I’m also ace, so no risk there anyway, but…”

Jon wants to say any child would be fortunate to count you as a father or I can’t think of a single undesirable trait about you, but what actually comes out is, “Ace?”

“Uh, asexual. It’s—I don’t…get attracted like that. Romance, sure, aesthetic stuff and all that, but not…” Martin gestures vaguely. “Tried it anyway, for a couple of guys I was with, but i-it didn’t go well.”

Jon’s world view shifts abruptly on its axis. Tim, though, looks suddenly worried. “Are you okay? They didn’t—”

“No, no,” Martin says quickly. “It wasn’t—I just don’t like it. That’s all.” He sighs and runs a hand through his hair. “Never bothered telling Mum that part. She wouldn’t…I’ve done enough damage.”

Tim pulls Martin into a quick one-armed hug, and Jon reaches across the table to squeeze his hand as gently as he can, but they change the subject after that.

They end up sitting up for a while in their new living room, relaxing. Tim props his feet up in the recliner and works on a crossword; Jon curls up at one end of the sofa with a book he’s been meaning to read for years that Jon Prime assures him he’ll love; Martin sits at the other end and knits. It about bowled Jon over completely when he learned that Martin made most of the sweaters he wears, but the sight and sound of him working away has become increasingly familiar in the last few weeks, especially after the Primes and the rest of the crew collaborated to get him an array of needles and knitting wool in all colors of the rainbow for his birthday. Jon usually finds the gentle clicking of the needles soothing, but tonight it’s just a hair distracting, and he keeps glancing up from the page to watch Martin’s fingers as they expertly manipulate the yarn or Tim tap the eraser of his pencil thoughtfully against his jaw while he contemplates an answer. He’s not even quite sure what he’s looking at.

Finally, Tim lays down his puzzle with a sigh. “I think I’m gonna turn in,” he says, sounding oddly reluctant. “Long day and all that.”

“Yeah, I’m just gonna—” Martin works a couple more stitches and folds up his project. “Probably a good stopping place for tonight.”

Jon considers saying he’s going to stay in the living room and finish the chapter he’s on, but if he’s being completely honest, he’s been on the same page for however long it’s been and hasn’t taken in a single word. Silently, he slides the scrap of paper he’s currently using as a bookmark back between the pages and closes the book. “Well. Good night, then.”

“’Night, Jon.”

The bedrooms are all upstairs, two on one side and one on the other with the bathroom handy, and the three of them wish each other goodnight again before disappearing into their rooms. Jon closes the door and looks around the room, his room.

There’s not much to it, to be honest. A nightstand, a dresser, a battered desk he’s had since he was a child, a lamp and the bed. He sets the book on top of the desk and changes into his comfortable sleep clothes, then crawls into the bed and pulls the covers up over his shoulders.

It’s…odd. No, not odd. Jon can’t quite think of the right word for it. But the sheets feel unfamiliar against his skin, and they don’t smell right, either, probably because they’re new. The mattress that felt perfectly comfortable when he tested it out in the store doesn’t seem to afford the same comfort now, and he wonders if the floor model has simply had much of the stiffness tested out of it over time. Even the pillows, which he did retain from his old bedroom setup, seem determined to thwart his attempts to find a comfortable position.

He rolls onto his back and stares up at the ceiling, arm draped over his midsection. He won’t fall asleep like this, he’s always been a side-sleeper, but his mind is a seething roil of emotions and he needs to get his thoughts under control before he can even have a hope of getting comfortable enough to sleep, he guesses.

Asexual. Jon probes at the word, at what it describes. I don’t get attracted like that. I just don’t like it. Honestly, until meeting Georgie, Jon had no idea that sort of attraction really existed; he thought it was just something out of the lurid romance novels his grandmother favored and he’d read once or twice in sheer desperation. It was something she’d wanted, though, so he’d tried a few times, but his efforts hadn’t satisfied her and he never really saw what all the fuss was about. He can take it or leave it, preferably the latter.

He never knew there was a word for it.

Suddenly, he wants to talk to Martin about it, about how he realized, how he knew. Where he found the word. If there are many more like—well, like them, he supposes. If that’s one of the reasons he was reluctant to tell Jon how he felt. He wants to ask about Martin’s experiences, if they were bad just because his body didn’t want them or for some other reason. A part of him also wants to cry from sheer relief. He isn’t broken. There’s nothing wrong with him. Well, not in that respect, anyway.

He sighs heavily and rolls onto his side again, plumping the pillows and curling one arm around them. They’re too flat, he thinks idly, too soft and yielding. Which is odd, because that’s never bothered him before. He can’t seem to get warm, either, which is also bizarre because it’s been an unusually mild day for late September and he’s under the duvet he’s had for years, which suddenly seems too light and insubstantial. The room is too quiet and still. It all feels…wrong, somehow.

Jon closes his eyes and stubbornly tries to force sleep, to no avail. The sense of wrongness pervades his being, curling through him and keeping him tethered to consciousness. He runs through the list of problems he seems to be having and tries to come up with which one might be keeping him awake. The only thing he can think of is the unfamiliar mattress. Everything else is exactly the way it was in his old flat.

And when was the last time you slept there? The thought hits him all of a sudden, and his eyes snap open. He forgot. The last time he slept in his apartment was the night before Jane Prentiss attacked the Institute. Ever since then, he’s been sleeping in Tim’s living room…or in Tim’s bed. With the others.

That’s all it is. He isn’t used to the silence of being alone. He’s not used to not knowing, right away, exactly where Tim and Martin are and if they’re safe. He’ll just go and check on them, see that they’re safe, and he’ll be able to get to sleep just fine.

He throws back the covers, slides his glasses back on, and heads into the hallway. Jon somehow ended up in the room by the bathroom, while Tim and Martin are on the other side of the hallway. Martin’s room is first, though, so Jon heads there. He’s as careful as he can be. Martin is probably asleep by now. He definitely seemed tired while they were still in the living room, and Jon wonders if he lingered because the other two were still sitting down there. It makes him feel slightly guilty, like he should have called it a night earlier so Martin can get some sleep. And after all, they did have a very emotionally draining conversation, which probably exhausted him as well. All that runs through Jon’s mind as he slowly, slowly eases the door open and peers around it to see into Martin’s room.

It’s sparsely furnished; nothing but a bed and one of those flimsy pop-up cloth jobs bisected into cubes, which is serving as his dresser. Martin’s laptop and phone sit on the floor, both connected to their chargers. The bed is mussed slightly and shows signs of having been occupied, but Jon’s heart rate accelerates when he looks at it. It’s empty.

There’s no sign of a struggle, he tells himself, and he heard nothing, so surely everything is fine. Martin’s probably just in the bathroom, or downstairs getting a glass of water or something. It’s fine. Everything’s fine. Jon will just…go check on Tim and Tim will be fine and then he’ll go find Martin and make sure he’s fine and it…will…be…fine. He pulls the door closed and turns to Tim’s room.

The door is slightly ajar, and there’s a faint glow coming from the room. Jon hesitates, then taps lightly on the door three times before easing it open. Tim is sitting up on the bed, cross-legged and leaning forward slightly. And—Jon’s shoulders slump in relief—Martin is there, too, on the edge of the bed, one leg hanging off the side and the other tucked underneath him. They’re talking quietly, but both obviously exhausted. They look up at the sound of the door opening and watch Jon stand in the doorway. He opens his mouth, then realizes he doesn’t know what to say and closes it again.

“Couldn’t sleep either?” Martin asks gently. The circles under his eyes are almost black.

“No,” Jon admits. “I—I just wanted to—” He breaks off, still not sure what to say.

Wordlessly, Tim holds out a hand. Jon lets the bedroom door shut behind him as he comes forward and takes it. Martin wraps an arm around him from behind, and the two of them pull Jon onto the bed and into a lying-down position. Tim rolls over and snaps off the lamp by his bed, then pulls the covers up over all three of them. Jon manages to reach down and snag the middle to help.

“Better,” Tim murmurs.

It’s not a question, but Jon hums in agreement anyway. Trying for levity, he says, “Shame to waste money on new beds, though.”

“We’ll be able to sleep there eventually,” Martin says. Jon only realizes how much stress was in his voice when it’s drastically lessened. “At some point we’ll probably want the space. But for now, there’s this.”

“For now, there’s this,” Jon agrees. He tilts his head back briefly to rest it against Martin’s shoulder, and Martin scoots in closer.

Tim does, too, the two of them sandwiching Jon securely between them. “Get some sleep,” he says. “It’ll be all right tomorrow.”

Jon yawns and closes his eyes, and it doesn’t really surprise him when he falls asleep straightaway. The nightmares are as present as ever, but in the morning, he can almost fool himself into believing they weren’t so bad.

Almost.

[aion-rsa]

Invincible Episode 7 Improves Upon Its Already Great Source Material

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This article contains spoilers for Invincible episode 7.

Amazon’s animated adaptation of Robert Kirkman and Cory Walker’s comic Invincible was always a great idea. The property has just about everything that streaming services and their audiences are looking for currently: superheroes, ultraviolence, and jaw-dropping twists. 

One big question facing the series, however, was how could one show possibly fit in all the story of the comic’s lengthy 144-issue run? Invincible episode 7, “We Need to Talk,” is the first season’s penultimate installment and it reveals how the show is set to approach this logistical challenge. With so many comic book issues of plot to get through, Invincible seems perfectly happy to accelerate through that plot as efficiently as possible. To that end, “We Need to Talk” features a truly staggering number of climactic moments.

This might actually be the most charmingly chaotic and jam-packed episode of TV this year (at least before next week’s finale). So much happens in “We Need to Talk” that it runs the risk of overwhelming the viewer. With that in mind, let’s break down the important plot points of this hour and examine the major ways in which they differ from (and even improve upon) the comic.

Robot’s True Identity

The reveal that the entity known as “Robot” isn’t who he claims to be might be the most shocking Invincible twist thus far. And that’s saying a lot for a show whose first episode concludes with the story’s Superman equivalent straight up murdering the rest of his Justice League.

That Robot (Zachary Quinto) is really a malformed genius named Rudolph Conners isn’t a surprise to comic book readers, but its positioning this early in Invincible’s story is a surprise. Robot’s work with the Mauler Twins to create a new body for himself doesn’t happen until after the events of Omni-Man’s confrontation with Mark in the comics (more on that later). The show, however, shrewdly decides to present this moment in the same episode as Omni-Man’s fall – just so there’s never really a moment for viewers to catch their breath. 

But now the truth has finally arrived. Robot, the orange hunk of metal with a fixedly bemused expression, is actually a machine being operated remotely by Rudolph Conners. Rudolph, or Rudy, is a small, damaged man whose body isn’t capable of surviving Earth’s environment. For many years Rudy was content to exist in his own life-giving tank of fluids while operating his superheroic “Robot” remotely. Everything changed, however, when he met the hero known as Monster Girl.

Rudy couldn’t help but identify with Monster Girl (Grey Griffin), a fellow soul who has made the best of a flawed body. Everytime Monster Girl transforms into a monster, her human form de-ages several more weeks. Theoretically at some point Monster Girl will become an infant and then waste away into nothingness. Before any of that happens, Rudy wants to fix her…and he wants to fix his own broken body so that the pair can be together.

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To that end, Rudy sprung the mad genius villain team The Mauler Twins from prison to create a cloned body for him to transfer his consciousness into. What makes this whole thing even stranger is that the genetic material Rudy chose for his new body belongs to his Teen Team and Guardians of the Globe colleague Rex Splode. The new Rudy appears to be played by Rex Splode actor Jason Mantzoukas with his voice altered to sound younger. 

Does that mean Zachary Quinto is no longer a part of the series? Let’s certainly hope not as he may have been the best performer of the entire cast. And why did Rudy choose Rex’s DNA (and without Rex’s consent, it must be said)? Because Rex is hot, basically. Rudy chose a human form that Monster Girl was already comfortable flirting with. 

This is…a lot. And the fact that Rudy has to introduce himself to his teammates while they’ve all gathered for an “apocalyptic event” just adds to the madness. But what of The Mauler Twins? The disappointment of Rudy’s double-crossing doesn’t last long. For, after Rudy is forced to abandon his efforts to reincarcerate the Mauler Twins to return to the Guardians home base, the twins get back to their important task at hand. And that leads to the return of another important Invincible character…

The Immortal is Immortal After All

Back in Invincible episode 1, Mark Grayson’s dad Nolan a.k.a. Omni-Man (J.K. Simmons) made short work of the Guardians of the Globe. Darkwing? Dead. War Woman? Dead. The Immortal? De….wait a minute. How can someone called “The Immortal” die? 

Well, it turns out that death for The Immortal (still voiced by Ross Marquand) is only temporary. Omni-Man removed The Immortal’s head, which is pretty much universally lethal across all genre stories. But The Mauler Twins theorized that if The Immortal’s head were returned to his body, he would spring back to life. 

Sure enough, that’s exactly what happened once The Immortal’s noggin was reattached. Unfortunately for The Mauler Twins, their dreams of forming any sort of alliance with the resurrected hero are quickly dashed as he immediately flies off to confront the man who killed him. 

Omni-Man v. Cecil Stedman

And that takes us to Omni-Man. In the comic, Omni-Man’s confrontation with The Immortal is what leads Mark Grayson (Steven Yeun) to discover that he’s got a Darth Vader situation on his hands. The show borrows that moment from the comic because any time you have the opportunity to make a character watch his father tear a Wolverine-looking dude in half, you’ve got to take it. That comic book moment is surprisingly abrupt though. In one panel Omni-Man is doing his usual Omni-Man thing and saving a group of citizens from a faulty roller coaster and in the next panel, The Immortal is all over his ass.

The Amazon Prime series dramatically improves on what is already a pretty great moment simply by drawing it out and building serious tension. Nolan’s wife Debbie (Sandra Oh) and the entire Global Defense Agency led by Cecil Stedman (Walton Goggins) are already well aware of Nolan’s treachery and have decided to finally take action. In speaking to Den of Geek and other outlets prior to Invincible’s premiere, Kirkman (who’s onboard as a writer and producer for this adaptation) revealed that Cecil Stedman would be getting an expanded role earlier on in Invincible’s story. 

“Cecil Stedman is a character that we get to know a little earlier in the show and definitely we get to do more with him,” he said. “I think that’s a lot of fun. There’s definitely some differences to his character and working with Walton Goggins on him has been great.”

Cecil really is a fascinating tool for Invincible. Many superhero stories have a Jim Gordon-style government liaison for its heroes to interact with. This person usually represents the interests of the planet’s “normal” citizen and is particularly impressive for being able to cut it in the world of the super-powered. By having Debbie and the GDA uncover Nolan’s guilt first, Invincible creates a wonderful opportunity to display both Cecil’s competence and depict the absolute horror of we puny humans trying to keep a super-powered god in check. 

Many times throughout Invincible episode 7, Cecil admits that there is nothing they can do to stop Nolan. The best they can do is slow him down for a bit until Mark is able to intervene. The first roadblock that Cecil presents is the explosion of an entire suburban city block with Nolan at its epicenter (R.I.P. Donald). 

“Best it will do is maybe knock him on his ass for an hour or two,” Cecil says. Then when the smoke clears to reveal an unharmed Omni-Man, Cecil grimly adds “Or maybe not hurt him at all.”

Cecil then throws the “hammer” at Nolan, which is a powerful blast from a weaponized satellite.

“$400 billion for the world’s most expensive nosebleed,” Cecil quips when Nolan takes the weapon out with ease. 

Then we get a sense of how many moral shortcuts Cecil is willing to take to keep the Earth safe. Mad scientist D.A. Sinclair’s (Ezra Miller) wounds from his confrontation with Invincible haven’t even healed yet but Cecil already has him using his evil technology for noble purposes. Sinclair’s “Reanimen” technology is now being used to reanimate recently dead U.S. soldiers, who are sent in to slow down Omni-Man. Unfortunately, that is also unsuccessful.

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Finally, Cecil is forced to head out into the field armed with nothing but a teleporter to confront Omni-Man himself. When that inevitably fails to slow Nolan down, the GDA sends a monster that Nolan already conquered, only this time it’s been robbed of its weaknesses and fear. And that’s where Mark finds his father, just in time for The Immortal to arrive and deliver one hell of a surprise. 

There’s something to be said for the suddenness of the comic’s Omni-Man moment with Mark. Mark witnessing his dad’s evil act truly comes out of nowhere even though we know it’s inevitable as Nolan has been practicing this conversation all issue. 

What the show does with the moment is a masterstroke, however. By centering the focus on the human characters of Invincible’s world, we get a chilling sense of just how terrifying this all is. Omni-Man’s heel turn doesn’t just have personal implications for Mark, it means that Earth’s unbeatable protector now seems to hate Earth. More terrifying than that is that the only person we think can defeat him is Mark Grayson…who, it must be said, has done nothing but had his ass absolutely handed to him by lesser enemies over and over again for the past three episodes.

Amber and Mark

It probably feels anticlimactic to address Mark and Amber’s lover’s spat after breaking down Omni-Man’s reign of terror. But it’s necessary to see how far-reaching the changes (and in this case improvements) are in episode 7 in comparison to its original text. 

Mark and Amber’s relationship thus far has been all about frustration. Mark is facing an annoying problem with a seemingly easy solution. Amber (Zazie Beetz) is upset with him because he is absent in their burgeoning relationship. He’s absent in their burgeoning relationship because he’s a superhero. Therefore, the quickest, easiest solution to this dilemma is to tell her that he’s a superhero. 

So in this episode, that’s exactly what Mark does. He gets suited up and flies right through Amber’s window to deliver the exciting news. The problem is – she’s not that excited.

“Ugh, I know you’re a superhero,” Amber says. “I’m not an idiot, I figured it out weeks ago.”

This is not how things go down in the comic. That version of Amber is a bit more…let’s say “bubbly” and when confronted with the fact that Mark has lied to her for weeks she responds with an excited “My boyfriend is a superhero?!?!?”

The show, however, is smart to not let Mark off the hook so easily. Of course Amber knew that Mark is Invincible. Because, like she says, she’s not an idiot. Anyone who spends an inordinate amount of time with him is bound to figure it out sooner than later. So what Mark thought was a problem with an easy solution becomes yet another difficult lesson on his path to maturation. 

“I think that Amber is important in terms of holding Mark accountable,” Beetz told reporters prior to the show’s premiere. “Mark is still struggling with what his identity as a super person is. And she shows him that (powers) are not what make you good or special ultimately, it’s what’s in your character.”

It turns out that the people close to you don’t appreciate being lied to. Though human beings all look like particularly vulnerable ants from Mark’s perspective high up in the sky, we certainly don’t appreciate being treated like insects to be protected and manipulated by the powerful among us. 

Mark and Amber’s relationship is an excellent indication that nothing will come easy for Mark Grayson on this show. Every decision has an equal and opposite reaction. It’s important that he learns that lesson before he enters into what is sure to be the most stressful and morally confusing moment of his life next week.

cnx.cmd.push(function() { cnx({ playerId: "106e33c0-3911-473c-b599-b1426db57530", }).render("0270c398a82f44f49c23c16122516796"); });

Invincible’s season finale will be available to stream Friday, April 30 on Amazon Prime.

The post Invincible Episode 7 Improves Upon Its Already Great Source Material appeared first on Den of Geek.

from Den of Geek https://ift.tt/3aBaalL

[secretlyatargaryen]

Tyrion and Zuko: The Good Bad Guy, The Bad Good Guy

I’ve never seen anyone compare Tyrion Lannister and Zuko, but the parallels seem so obvious to me. I know there’s been a lot of comparisons in fandom to Zuko and his arc and a lot of discussion of what makes a good redemption arc and I’m not necessarily talking about this from that perspective, because I don’t really think Tyrion is on a redemption arc (and also reject the idea that I’ve seen bandied about that he is on a “villain” arc or that his arc is in opposition to his brother Jaime’s, with Jaime as the one who is usually seen by fandom as set up for redemption.) But I do think the parallels between the two characters are striking. I don’t think they’re 1:1 and even many of the parallels I make are not intended to be exact, as these two characters have narratives that are structured differently, and of course there are differences based on medium and target audience between the two series.

This is part one of a series of posts on these two characters, and this part will focus on how these characters are positioned structurally by the narrative.

Spoilers for both series to follow!

The biggest, most immediate difference between Tyrion and Zuko is that Zuko is positioned as an antagonist at the beginning of the story (although not necessarily a villain), while Tyrion is not antagonistic to the identifiable heroes at the beginning of AGOT, and is in fact the only Lannister not to be positioned that way by the narrative initially. In fact, part of this meta and part of my purposes for comparing them is to argue that Zuko’s narrative arc is not a straight line from villain to hero, which makes him very similar to Tyrion and his narrative positioning as the “good bad guy, the bad good guy” as Peter Dinklage says of his character on Game of Thrones. Even though Zuko’s mission at the beginning of the series is antagonistic to Team Avatar, he is still presented as a POV character with whom we are meant to sympathize, if at first only through sympathetic characters in his story like Iroh and characters who act as antagonistic in his own story, like Zhao and later Azula.

Tyrion also is presented to us as on the “bad side” of the narrative. He’s a Lannister, and many of the immediately sympathetic characters dislike and distrust him. Yet he is positioned sympathetically almost immediately as seen through characters like Jon Snow and Bran, and in contrast to his brother and sister.

Zuko and Tyrion also are positioned similarly in the narrative in relation to the way they are paired with and against the other characters in the story. Heroic narratives often make use of the Rule of Three, and one way in which this is shown is in presenting the main characters of the story as a triad. This type of narrative will have a protagonist, a deuteragonist, and a tritagonist. Usually the protagonist and the deuteragonist are male, and serve as foils and shadows of each other, and the third protagonist, or tritagonist, is a female character. You could argue about who takes the second and third position but it’s inarguable that in Avatar: The Last Airbender (further referred to as ATLA), these characters are Aang, Zuko, and Katara. In A Song of Ice and Fire (further referred to as ASOIAF) these characters are Jon Snow, Daenerys Targaryen, and Tyrion Lannister. This is also why it’s often theorized that Tyrion is the third head of the three-headed dragon that Dany and Jon are both part of, despite not having any Targaryen blood.

The other narrative structure that ASOIAF uses with regard to the characters that mirrors ATLA is what George R R Martin coins “the five key players” in his original manuscript of ASOIAF:

Five central characters will make it through all three volumes, however, growing from children to adults and changing the world and themselves in the process. In a sense, my trilogy is almost a generational saga, telling the life stories of these five characters, three men and two women. The five key players are Tyrion Lannister, Daenerys Targaryen, and three of the children of Winterfell, Arya, Bran, and the bastard Jon Snow. (source)

I have theorized from what he says here that when Martin originally conceptualized his story, he intended for Tyrion to be younger than he is when we see him in the series, as Martin says that the five central characters will “grow from children to adults,” and Tyrion is already an adult as of his first chapter in A Game of Thrones. However, the fact that Tyrion is quite a bit older than the other four is thematically important. Tyrion is a character who, when we see him at the beginning of the story, has lost his innocence and become embittered by an abusive childhood and a lifetime of cruelty directed towards him because of his dwarfism. Yet Tyrion, thoughout the series, often relates to the child characters specifically because of that lost innocence. He offers help and advice to Jon, Bran, and Sansa throughout the series, and as of ADWD is on his way to join Daenerys.

Similarly, Zuko is positioned against the four main child characters of ATLA that make up Team Avatar, Aang, Katara, Sokka, and Toph, and has moments where he relates to them even before he seeks to join them. And although Zuko is only sixteen and very much a kid (which becomes even more apparent when he joins the gaang), and Tyrion is an adult, he is still a young man and his relationship to Jon is something like that of an older brother.

Zuko and Aang’s relationship could be compared with that of Jon and Tyrion. Jon and Aang offer friendship to someone who they should consider an enemy, and Tyrion and Zuko end up becoming unexpected mentors to the younger boys. In both stories, this serves to highlight the tragedy of how war pits people against each other and what each of these characters has lost.

Aang to Zuko: If we knew each other back then, do you think we could have been friends, too?

-S1E13

Even after ADWD and all the war and strife between Stark and Lannister, Jon still considers Tyrion his friend. Obviously, we do not have the ending of ASOIAF to compare to ATLA, but I find it an interesting parallel, nonetheless.

Another thing that makes the characters similar on a structural level is the use of visual symbolism to show the characters’ internal struggle and duality. This is a clever and immediate way for the audience to understand that this is a character who we are meant to see as morally complex. Visual symbolism is more obvious in a medium like animation, and the specific piece of visual symbolism is something that was downplayed in ASOIAF’s television adaptation, so it might be less apparent, but I’ve talked before about how Tyrion’s heterochromia is a visual symbol of his dual nature as a character and his struggle with his identity.

Similarly, Zuko’s scar functions as a symbol of his duality. And although Tyrion also has a dramatic facial mutilation to compare Zuko’s burn scar to, I am comparing Tyrion’s heterochromia to Zuko’s scar instead because of the symbolism associated with eyes and seeing.

It is often said that “the eyes are the windows to the soul,” and the reason for this is obvious. Often we look into another person’s eyes to get a glimpse of who they are, to understand and empathize, to connect and hope they connect with us. Therefore, in fiction, eyes can often tell you a lot about a character’s identity. Having a scar over one eye is an immediate signal of Zuko’s conflict from the moment he is introduced to the audience. His stated goal from episode one is to capture the Avatar, but as the series goes on we see what this goal really is: an impossible task given to him by his father because it is impossible. Therefore, Zuko’s desire to regain his identity as prince of the Fire Nation is put into question. And what better way to represent a conflict with Zuko’s identity towards the Fire Nation than with an injury caused by fire? I’ll talk much more about Zuko’s scar in part two because this is an extremely important part of his narrative.

Tyrion’s heterochromatic eyes function in a similar way, and mirror the way Martin uses color symbolism in ASOIAF. Tyrion is described in the books as having one green eye and one black one, a fact that was not included in the show save for one scene in the pilot, and was eventually discarded, as were Dany’s purple eyes, because of the difficulty colored contacts posed for the actors, and because, as I suspect, it was decided that it was not enough of a noticeable detail to be worth the trouble. It’s a lot easier to get away with things like this in animation (and Zuko’s scar doesn’t work in a live action series for similar practical reasons), but Tyrion’s “mismatched” eyes are a detail often mentioned in the books. Tyrion’s green eye is the eye color he shares with his brother and sister and father, and is known as a distinctive Lannister trait, representing their physical beauty and perfection. And like Tyrion’s disability, his heterochromia is an imperfection and so not tolerated in a House that prides itself on perfection. His black eye, in contrast, while often called his “evil” eye and is a cause, in addition to his dwarfism, for others to treat him like a pariah, brings him closer to who he is as a person separate from his family, as dark eyes represent earthiness and intelligence.

Zuko’s scar also marks him as other the way Tyrion’s heterochromia marks him. It is often called attention to by characters in the series. In the first season it is often used to make him look frightening. Yet it also marks him in the eyes of the audience and the eyes of other characters as a victim of the Fire Nation and a survivor. In this way, the meaning of Zuko’s scar becomes flipped and it is his unmarred side that links him to what appears on the surface to be the order and perfection and superiority of the Fire Nation, but which, just like Zuko’s face if we are only looking at it from one side, hides a warped horror.

In part two I talk about how these two characters have similar trauma and conflict with relationship to their families and how that shapes their narratives.

[taeminie]

hi ali my love 👾💜 for your sleepover ask: Tell us your thoughts theories and favorite bits of still2gether ep 1!

KYLIE!!!!!!!!!! hi angel 💜 💜 💜 💜 💜 💜 💜 

 ohhh my god okay i will try but i dont wanna make it too long and bore yall to death so here i go doing it under a read more because it will be long, sorry.

thoughts: I LOVED IT. it was beyond my expectations. i feel like part 1 was a whole fix-up for the criticism in eps 12/13 and how they addressed the whole pam/mil situation at the hospital. and learning that wat was at the hospital from his pov was so smart i cant stress this enough. also both tine and sarawat apologizing and agreeing to communicate more and healthily yes we love to see it!! when they made the pinky promise of having a heart-to-heart next time something’s bothering them. that was so so important. i also loved how they addressed fan service in the beginning and wat being like “we’re a real couple we don’t need to prove it to anyone” that whole scene was really nice. so definitely aof took notes and listened and im just on cloud 9 about episode 1 like it was SO GOOD.

theories: ok i suck at theorizing but i got a few...

- i definitely think that we’ll get an eventual time jump in the finale where we see them married with kids or with a pet (maybe charlotte??) but yeah i feel like they’ve hinted too much at a proposal.

- not really a theory but i feel like we will get to see a special date for sarawatine (either anniversary or a b-day) because you know in the trailer how wat’s making wishes and there’s a whole voiceover of him talking to tine and wishing him happiness... i think they’re gonna start the ldr thing and wat is gonna surprise tine at some point. also because in the trailer when they introduce win as tine you literally see tine turn around and smile at someone so my guess is sarawat surprised him and the dolls are a gift from him but who knows...

- definitely wat is gonna find out about mil and he won’t be happy about it at all but that’s kinda obvious

- might be wishful thinking but i feel like we will get more “kiss till you drop” scenes and third times a charm u know what i mean..... but yeah *sigh*

- ohmfong and earnpear are gonna out of nowhere show up as canon in the last episode or so i wish haha fuck

favorite bits: 

- “you’re safe tonight” i already talked about this but that whole scene was soo beautiful, the way wat reassured tine and how he protects him!!

- i really loved to see the guntithanon brothers talking and actually having scenes together. like wat really has a brother and they didn’t forget it felt so refreshing to see

- another bit i absolutely loved was the scene in bed with sarawatine at the end of part 1 just because of the way tine was looking at wat???? we see wat always looking at tine like he hung the stars but seeing tine SOO IN LOVE really made me feel things. and my boy delivered the absolute horniest line in the whole episode looking like the puppy eyes emoji all around.

- i loved the scene with ohm fong and tine (loved that they talked about puak and pluem wasn’t just written off and forgotten) and i also loved the teasing and the fact that wat actually talked to ohmfong and asked them to talk to tine. oh and when tine said “i care about sarawat”.... yeah going back to theories i have a theory that tine will say i love you first in the show but dont quote me.

-  i absolutely loved when tine was practicing with a tutorial of sarawat teaching him!! that was so endearing and such a small gesture thats actually not that small and sucha tine thing to do. which brings me to the point that sarawat was jealous of himself... gay little wat smh. but honestly 2gether ep 9 is my favorite ep so the fact that they included those scenes where sarawat is telling him to imagine himself as the protagonist and you can tell even in ep 9 part 4 tine used that as encouragement and now he’s using it again. tine remembers the small things he really does and he cherishes wat soo much.

- ok last but not least the scene after the time jump when they’re sitting on the couch at home... something about confident tine knowing he played well and being like “all those ppl loved me!!” i couldnt stop smiling like that’s my baby!!! and i can’t wait to see more of him like this.

overall it was such a good premiere episode. it tackled so many important topics like healthy communication in relationships but also the whole cyber bullying storyline with tine...and some of our beloved fong’s quotes “you can’t make everyone love you so just focus on the ppl around you”... im gonna be in this high for longer than i thought because that episode just gave us so much more than i imagined.

[foyetsnewhitlist]

Perfect- Chapter 6

masterlist | ch. 5 | ch. 7

Word Count: 1,580 words

POV: There's more to Jordan Sawyer then Reid or Garcia know but you can’t fill them in.

(This chapter is in Hotch’s perspective)

“Knock knock!” I hear (y/n) say in a sing-song voice.

“Come in,” I say.

“Do you have a minute? I have something I would like to talk to you about, it’s quite urgent.” They tell me, slipping into a chair.

“Yes of course. Have a seat and fill me in.”

“When I joined the team, I wasn’t completely honest. In the past, I was forced to do some.. pretty terrible things. However, I can assure you that I have hidden all evidence and turned my life around.” They say. At these words, my face remains neutral, although I am shocked on the inside.

“What kinds of things?” I ask cautiously.

“Oh, um, nothing serious, I just- I…” I stopped paying attention while they began to explain the things they’ve done. What they don’t know is that I know the truth about them. I know their true identity is Jordan Sawyer and who Jordan's parents are as well as where they live. I made special requests to get Jordan into the BAU, although they didn’t get a single question right on the test. They studied Creative Writing in college for crying out loud. Did they think I was that dumb? What Jordan doesn’t know is that they were added to the team as a way to investigate them. No one else on the team knows and it must stay that way until I get some intel worthy enough of-

“Sir?” Jordan says politely while interrupting my train of thought.

“Yes, sorry, I was just taking in all of this information.”

“So, you aren’t mad that I stole something from the mall when I was a teenager and had minor charges on my record?”

“No of course not. Thank you for bringing this to my attention.”

“Of course sir. It had been weighing down on me since I started. I was just too intimidated by you to speak up immediately. I wanted to be the first to tell you because I overheard Reid and Garcia talking about doing a deep dive into my past. I don’t think they like me, and they sure don’t trust me. Again I am so-” there's a sudden rap on my door three times, waiting to be invited in. “Come in.” I finally say, meeting Reid’s eye from inside my office.

“Hotch we have something important to tell you!“ Garcia and Reid blurt out in unison.

“We were just talking about you guys.” The door opens to reveal Jordan, sitting on a chair with their hands folded over their lap.

“So, (y/n) had some pretty interesting things to tell me about the two of you,” I say, emotionless in an attempt to make them think I’m on Jordan's side.

“What do you mean?” Garcia asks shakily.

“They’re lying Hotch,” Reid shouts, I can practically hear his heart pounding in his chest.

“So you mean to tell me you didn’t go snooping around (y/n)’s past?”

“Well, yes, but no, that’s not what-” Garcia fumbles

“I told you, sir, they don’t trust me!” Jordan interrupts.

“Thank you for telling me (y/n), you can go now. I’ll deal with them in private.”

“Yes sir.” Jordan stands up, smoothing their hands over their slacks. Jordan walks out of the room, smiling at Garcia and Reid as they leave. I can see Jordan's mouth move on her way out but can’t quite make out what they said.

“Both of you, sit. (Y/n) had some interesting things to share with me, but I would like your side before I make any decisions.” I say to them in a no-nonsense tone. I hate having to treat my team like this but they don’t know why I’m doing this. Not yet at least.

“Reid had his doubts and asked me to do a deep dive on (y/n) because we’re a family, and we need to make sure no one bad is part of it.” Garcia begins to explain.

“Did you find anything?” I question, cutting Garcia off.

“Yes!” Garcia exclaims “Their real name is Jordan Sawyer, they went to Shaw University, which doesn’t even have any classes to become an FBI agent, and they almost failed all of their tests and barely got into college, their parents are alive and well and live in North Carolina, not New Jersey, and, well…” Garcia trails off.

“Well, what?” I prodded.

“They’ve.. done some pretty gruesome things.” Reid joins in.

“If you would let me grab my laptop I could show you, I don’t feel comfortable saying any of it,” Garcia says.

“No. I’ve heard enough.” I shake my head and lean back in my chair.

“Hotch, you have to believe us! We wouldn’t tell you if it wasn’t true! Please let us show you!” Reid begs of me. But I must keep the facade going.

“Get out. We have a new case, go gather the team-up. (Y/n) included. And do NOT spread this misinformation to the rest of the team. If you go snooping any further I will have to revoke your badges. Do the right thing and stay out of it.” I order them, whilst being dangerously calm.

“Yes sir.” Garcia and Reid say in unison, practically running out of my office. Once they are out I open my drawer and pull out my journal to document my thoughts as well as a classified file to review. It’s Jordan’s file. What the team doesn't know is that Jordan is a heinous killer with no remorse, one of the worst killers in history. Worse than the Zodiac and Ted Bundy himself. What sets them apart is that Jordan has a team of hundreds of people behind them cleaning up all evidence. After each mission, Jordan gains a new identity and consumes a new life. From what we know, Jordan has had 17 different identities and is only 26 years old. They complete their mission within weeks for the most part, despite not being bright in school. They are well versed in every criminal act you could think of. To my knowledge, Jordan’s next mission is to destroy the entire BAU by murdering every person in the FBI and taking over the building. That’s why I made arrangements for them to be put on the team so I can watch and profile them. I’m not surprised Reid was the first one to catch on, but this is NOT good. Or maybe it is? I’m not sure yet. Should I tell the team or keep working the case on my own? I guess I’ll have to make that decision soon.

“Hey boss man, we’re waiting for you in the conference room. Garcia is ready to go over the case.” Rossi says from outside of my door making me stop in my tracks completely. I follow Rossi to the conference room.

“Perfect, now everyone is here. We have a case in our own backyard. Dale City, to be exact. Just 12 miles away. The unsub seems to be breaking into homes to steal things and well…” Garcia clicks her button and turns our attention to the screen behind her.

“These were taken at the last three crime scenes.”

“Based on these pictures our unsub seems to be meticulous and precise with what they’re doing,” JJ states,

“Given how organized the crime scenes are one may conclude that our unsub is suffering from a severe case of OCD.” Reid theorizes.

“They don’t seem to be the dominant type either,” Emily claims. I hardly hear what anyone is even saying. I'm hyper fixated on Jordan and observing their behavior. For some reason, they’ve been checking their watch every 5 minutes and their phone every few seconds.

“Jo- (y/n), is everything okay?” I almost blew my cover over such a simple question.

“Yes, I’m good boss. There were just some minor issues with my dog sitter but I can deal with it later.”

“You have a dog?” Morgan asks excitedly.

“Yes! I have a-” I cut Jordan off, “Wheels up in 30. Let’s get to the crime scenes before another one appears.”

“The cars are outside waiting on your arrival, sir.” Garcia quickly states in a worried tone. I hope her or Reid didn’t hear me almost give away the newbie's true identity.

“Morgan, Emily you two go to the most recent crime scene and see what you can find out. JJ, I want you to go to the local police department and gather as much information as you can and coordinate with Garcia. Reid, (y/n), you two go to the first and second crime scenes and see if you can find any patterns. Rossi and I will go speak with the latest victims' parents and get them into custody in case they are in danger. We will bring their parents back to the station and coordinate with JJ.”

“Okay, Hotch” Emily, Morgan, and JJ said.

“Uh- um okay sir,” Reid responds while being visibly confused.

“I’ll meet everyone outside in 5.” Everyone leaves and boards the cars and I pull out my journal once more to add that I decided to pair up Jordan and Reid to see if Reid catches onto anything and maybe finds out any information on them. He’s one of the best profilers I know. If anyone can secretly uncover someone's past behind my back, it’ll be him. Okay, I have to go meet up with the team before things get suspicious. I'll keep this journal updated as I gather new information. Time to go catch an unsub.

Tag List: @omgbigfluff @less-intelligent-spencerreid @louiscardinalsshi123 @ariccio50

My Editor: @the-beatles-are-better

[the-cooler-snimbusjavy]

XCOM: Chimera Squad Character Trivia Masterpost

So with XCOM: Chimera Squad having been out for a bit of time now, I’ve come to love and appreciate every single member of the squad we got, so I went ahead and decided to take a look at everything possible we have on the gang. Between character bios, in-game dialogue and conversations, lines pulled from the config files, concept art, all coupled with my personal interpretation on the information given, I have tried to give a go at making a post with every detail of each character I found worth mentioning (in absolutely no particular order). So, enjoy! Also fair warning, it’s long, ayy

SPOILERS AHEAD While not too important in the great scheme of things in Chimera Squad’s story, do read at your own risk.

.

Terminal - China, 29 years old

Terminal lost her parents during the invasion of 2015. They were a factory worker and a cook. Afterwards, she escaped with her uncle to a relocation camp, who unfortunately died of disease the following year.

After this event, she was adopted by a doctor who lost her only daughter. It was her who inspired Terminal to become a combat medic. In a cruel turn of events, she was killed during a retaliation attack from ADVENT. It is said Terminal’s personality severely shifted after this.

Terminal keeps a photo of her deceased adopted mother in her locker.

She was originally rejected to join the Reclamation Agency, so she requested the use of psionic probes to prove her worth. She was then admitted in probationary period.

Terminal believes Verge is the only one in the team who truly understands her. Verge “knows” this.

Terminal wants to have a fight between hers and Patchwork’s GREMLINs, for “training purposes”.

Terminal nicknames Patchwork “Patches” on occasion.

Whenever Patchwork “smack talks” Terminal down, she expresses she’s “so proud” of her.

Terminal often eats Whisper’s lunches in the fridge, under the excuse that he doesn’t label them.

Terminal seems to know the Jabberwock, and perhaps other stories surrounding it, as she wished to hear Zephyr pronounce said word, likely out of Terminal’s mocking of her Australian accent.

Terminal claims to be the “biggest fan” of conspiracy theorist Floyd Tesseract’s radio show, You Should Have Believed, and is absolutely delighted to meet him. This is much unlike every other member of the team, who all seem to either disregard him, dislike him, or outright suggest he be captured.

According to Terminal, the restorative mist within her GREMLIN is “minty fresh”. It seems Cherub once sniffed it on accident.

Terminal seems to consider Verge’s singing to be “the second worst thing she’s heard all year”.

Whisper accuses Terminal of sleeping during their briefings. According to Terminal, she’s just “resting her eyes”, as well as her “ears” and “interest”.

According to Godmother, Terminal tenses up whenever she pulls the trigger of her gun. Terminal attempts to deny this, unsuccessfully.

According to herself, Terminal has always wanted a “heavily-armored entourage”.

Terminal doesn’t know what a vertipad is, and upon learning of it, she questions who calls them that way, thinking it “stupid”. Seemingly, everyone else on the squad calls them by their name without issue.

According to Terminal, she’s never gonna retire, she expects to just die some day in the field (five years at most). Afterwards she confesses that she’s no good anywhere else, suggesting that she has an issue in finding direction with her life. Godmother claims that she knows well what she means.

Verge - ~40 years old

Verge originally worked alongside Thin Men in order to infiltrate society and psionically control them to share good word of the Elders’ occupation of Earth. It was due to his constant exposure to human thoughts that gained him empathy.

He worked as a mole during the events of XCOM 2 and provided the Resistance with information, making him the only* known alien to aid XCOM during their war against ADVENT. (*Ethereal Asaru is theorized to have aided XCOM by merging with the Commander, and sometimes even implied, but it still remains devoid of official word about it)

Sectoids can mind-merge with someone in order to “taste” whatever they may be eating. He suggests doing this with Cherub by offering to go to a new restaurant that serves “authentic old world cuisine”, but only with Cherub’s own consent.

Sectoids, and Verge as an extension, seemingly cannot eat terrestrial meat and eggs, or “greasy” food as worded by Cherub.

On that note, it would seem Sectoids are also intolerant to jam, as it’s considered poison for them. It’s possible Godmother was aware of this fact, as she instead replaces “jam“ with “butter“ during a phrase pre-mission.

Verge recognizes his acts during the original invasion were wrong, and there having been worse alternatives don’t excuse his actions still, according to him.

That said, he doesn’t seem to want to talk about his part in it, when asked by Godmother if he regret any of it.

Verge finds butter delicious, though he also believes the consumption of “the churned remains of another lactating mammal” to be slightly disturbing.

Terminal seems to be “creeped out” by Verge’s Battle Madness ability. Blueblood similarly finds it unsettling, yet still appreciates the “breathing room”. Surprisingly, Torque seems to outright love it, and even requests Verge to have the enemy “dance”.

Cats apparently find Sectoids to be adversaries for undisclosed reasons as declared by Verge, yet according to Axiom, he’s seen “a lot of Sectoids with cats”.

Verge keeps a ramen shop sticker, as well as an excerpt of a ramen cooking magazine in his locker, suggesting either or both an interest in cooking and enthusiasm towards this particular dish.

It seems Verge was acquainted with conspiracy theorist Floyd Tesseract during the invasion, claiming that he was “just as insufferable“ throughout it as he is now.

Verge enjoys “messing” with Whisper whenever he makes a comm check, by instead listening to him psionically. Whisper at least appreciates the honesty.

Verge seems to respect and care greatly for the Archons, as he states they will never be slaves again, and that the Progeny will do them no harm. He becomes particularly angry when threatened by the terrorist faction.

Verge claims that he enjoys collecting old watches.

Godmother - France, 48 years old

Godmother lost track of her family during the 2015 invasion. She spent a year looking for them, with no result.

Godmother does not consider herself a leader, but rather a teacher. This is the case in her old job as a police trainer, as a member of the Resistance, and now as provisional member of Chimera Squad.

Godmother plans to retire soon, but has decided to stick around Chimera Squad to aid them until she feels they are truly ready.

Terminal seems to be an example of the above, with Godmother constantly guiding the former.

Godmother witnessed Cherub’s adoption papers under request of Headquarters. She also signed them in addition.

Godmother believes Cherub has a talent to “bring people together”.

Godmother seems to consider the Sacred Coil faction as “re-heated ADVENT propaganda”.

Godmother seems to be good with card games as she claims her hobby to be “bluffing” with them, after being asked by Cherub if she had any.

According to Verge, Godmother still does not trust aliens. However, she’s actively trying to do so, which Verge claims is enough.

On the same note, Godmother is said to not trust the world leaders after surrendering so quickly, suggesting over the years she’s lived with trusting issues around her.

According to Godmother, she was once pinned down in a bank of Paris for three days.

Godmother seems to enjoy crêpes, as she orders Terminal to “stop making her hungry” after the latter desired donuts and crêpes respectively during a mission.

Godmother seems to be proud of her French heritage, as she keeps a touristic poster of the Arc de Triomphe in her locker.

Alongside this, a photo of presumably Godmother herself and a long-haired blonde woman both in police uniform is present. Who this woman is is not disclosed.

Cherub - Estonia, 5 years old

Cherub belonged to a batch of ADVENT clones under the name of the Empty Cohort, who never got to receive the respective indoctrination.

After being discovered there, Cherub was only recently adopted by the two resistance members who originally found him in his ADVENT facility of origin, as they found themselves responsible for him and his safety. They fell in love precisely due to this, having married one year prior to the events of XCOM: Chimera Squad.

On the same topic, Cherub keeps a picture of himself and his parents in his locker.

Alongside the aforementioned picture, Cherub keeps a card celebrating his fifth birthday. It presumably comes from his parents, seeing he put it alongside their picture.

Cherub was originally a clone of Bellus Mar, former ADVENT Officer and leader of the Sacred Coil terrorist faction. Cherub seems to be concerned of his teammates believing something of Mar could potentially be present in himself, which Director Kelly assures is not the case.

Cherub believes that friendship cannot be forced on others, and is content with simply letting others know that they are not alone.

Despite this, his naturally innocent and naive attitude allows Zephyr to use him as a “practice dummy”.

Cherub used to pronounce DJ as “deej” before he actually heard it aloud.

Cherub believes that it would be normal that everyone voiced whatever was exactly in their mind, without having the need to hide anything. Verge reveals to him that rarely do people do so, and that they choose to hide many things for a number of reasons. Cherub believes it to be too much work to think about, so he’d rather say things as he actually means to say.

Cherub believes sunrise, waffles, laughter, and wood smoke to be important things of life.

Cherub doesn’t understand the protection of money. He believes it’s not as rewarding as protecting people.

According to himself, Cherub is “so bad” at riddles.

Cherub enjoys watching wrestling from the old world whenever he gets the chance to find it. Whisper offers to search some for him, however, still forbids him to actually compete in it.

Cherub enjoys making puns and, apparently, he was taught of them by Whisper, who seemingly now regrets his decision.

Patchwork - Mexico, 29 years old

Patchwork lost her legs and left arm during the invasion of 2015. ADVENT provided her with new ones as part of their propaganda plan.

It was Patchwork herself who orchestrated her escape from the ADVENT City Centers, in order to join the Resistance.

Patchwork doesn’t name her GREMLINs anymore, presumably as they usually tend to be destroyed, as per Cherub’s inquiry. She counts at least 25 destroyed GREMLINs, one in particular destroyed by a Muton

Everyone apparently hates the androids they use on reinforcements for undisclosed reasons. Patchwork is the exception, as she considers them “robot friends” who fill in when they cannot.

On that note, it seems Patchwork is very protective of any sort of Android, and even refers to those stolen by Sacred Coil as her “niños” (Spanish for children).

Contrary to common belief within the squad, Patchwork did not choose her callsign due to her own state. In Terminal’s words, it was due to her affinity at “slapping software together”, and that everyone who thinks otherwise is an idiot.

Patchwork sometimes wonders if she and Terminal should switch callsigns, under the reasoning that she “works with computer terminals”, while Terminal “patches people back up”.

On the same note, Patchwork claims Terminal’s mouth moves at “terminal velocity”. The latter finds this very amusing.

Patchwork seems to refer to psionics as some sort of “music”. Stating she enjoys the “tune” of Shelter’s psi abilities, as well as claiming that Progeny’s leader Violet’s own sounds like a “symphony”. Similarly, when failed to be mind-controlled she states she doesn’t enjoy that kind of “music”.

Patchwork believes the ADVENT Gene Therapy clinics should not have been outlawed, as she considers ADVENT themselves to be the ones to blame for what they did to humanity, not the “tool” itself.

Patchwork is seemingly not allowed to enter tech vaults anymore. According to her, it was due to her mistakenly pushing a particular button that started some form of countdown. Seemingly, Director Kelly was “nearly irradiated” due to this mishap.

According to herself, Patchwork doesn’t like to go dancing, though it’s most likely due to the fact she distrusts the people running clubs.

Patchwork seems to be close to both Lily Shen and Richard Tygan, as she keeps a photo of herself alongside them both in her locker (John Bradford and the Commander can be seen in the background, with the latter strategically concealed).

Having worked as an engineer in the Avenger during XCOM 2, coupled with their personal love of robotics, her bond with Shen is easily explained.

As for Tygan, it is presumed by many he was the man in charge of providing a young Patchwork with her first prosthetic arm and legs back during his ADVENT days, explaining their bond now both together as members of XCOM.

Axiom - Born within an invasion ship, 46 years old

Mutons are apparently issued pet cats to demonstrate their capacity for compassion. Axiom did not get one as he proved himself while saving human lives during the Bugtown Massacre under his own initiative.

Despite this fact, Axiom still seems to be greatly fond of cats, as he owns a sticker of one surrounded by hearts in his locker.

According to Axiom, Mutons had a “spiritual connection” with their starships, returning to it signified some form of “pilgrimage”. Axiom’s ship, however, was destroyed back in 2015.

On this topic and true Muton nature, Axiom is fond of the space as well. He keeps a poster of Earth’s solar system in his locker.

Axiom considers Blueblood’s choice of weaponry to be inferior and small. However, after Blueblood explains his strategy of it being so unnoticeable that enemies focus on Axiom instead so then the former can pick up on those distracted, Axiom praises his cunning and respects the strategy.

Axiom believes Claymore fights like a woman, in that he’s fearless, calm under pressure, and is an inspiration to squadmates to give their all. After claiming he learned much from his sister, Axiom praises her as formidable and wishes to meet her, despite her views on the current world.

Axiom is surprised Godmother managed to fight and survive during the invasion of Paris, in her homeland in France. According to Axiom, the mortality rate was extremely high. They soon decide not to continue the conversation.

Apparently, Axiom wishes new boots, as his current footwear seemingly “pinch his ankles”.

Both Axiom and Torque seem to agree that Andromedons are “the worst”.

According to Axiom, Gray Phoenix leaders Custodian Xel and Crew Chief Yarvo’s names are aliases, and starship dialect. Xel meaning “good route” or “safe passage”, whereas Yarvo means “newly forged” or “birthed in flame”.

Claymore - India, 32 years old

Claymore has an older sister that he apparently worked with alongside the Resistance. According to Claymore, she’s the one that taught him many of the things he knows. However, she also seemingly has not come to terms with the current state of the world, presumably the peace between humans and aliens.

Other than her, Claymore also seemed to have an older brother. He, alongside their mother, however, lost their lives during the 2015 invasion.

Claymore worked on the Avenger during the events of XCOM 2, disassembling recovered alien explosives.

Claymore appears to be religious, as he claims that prayer brings him peace of mind. As to what religion he follows, is not disclosed.

When asked by Verge how he attains the aforementioned peace of mind, Claymore also adds that he does exercise and that he allows himself to love the world and the people around him.

On that same note, Claymore states that he “never touches” caffeine.

Claymore seems to enjoy food overall, and also appears to be a good cook, as he brings enough fish curry he made for everyone upon his arrival.

He and Verge enjoy visiting ramen shops together, cataloguing the good and bad places. They plan to go to the recently opened shop U.F.Oodle.

Claymore and Torque seem to have a thing against each other, referring to the other as a “rebel goon” and a “despotic flunkie”, respectively. Whisper facetiously refers to their aversion as “young love”.

Torque - Siberia, 20 years old

Torque was offered to act as “opposing force“ in training of XCOM agents post-war. She accepted as she considered prison to be “boring“.

During these events, Torque formed a bond with then-Colonel Jane Kelly, who seems to be the only person Torque truly respects and appreciates. It was thanks to her Torque was admitted into the Reclamation Agency and Chimera Squad.

Torque is afraid of losing her friends, so she tries hard to push them away with her unwelcoming attitude. This is due to her fear of forming bonds, since they may not come back from a fight the next day. She is incredibly self-aware of this fact. Director Kelly offers to talk with her about it, which Torque accepts.

On that same note, Godmother claims that Torque does in fact care about getting her team’s respect and appreciation, a topic Torque evidently wishes to avoid.

Despite these facts, Torque seems to be keen on improving as a person, as her locker shows she owns a book under the name of Meditation for the Exceptionally Stressed.

Torque sees herself as an earthling, as she was born on Siberia in 2020.

Torque seems to have something against off-worlders, but it’s unknown if this is due to her attitude, guilt about her own actions during the war that she projects against others, or legitimate aversion against them.

Terminal seems to be absolutely thrilled whenever Torque uses her Tongue Pull with the former, with her exclaiming she wants to “go again”.

Torque seems to have a heavy disliking of Whisper for undisclosed reasons, under occasions having suggested him to perform a lobotomy, as well as telling him to “bite his tongue off and bleed to death” after he asks the team to bring him a “souvenir” from a Viper-themed mature bar.

After Whisper reveals himself to be Canadian, Torque claims Canadians taste like maple. Whether it’s her joking with Whisper or not is not confirmed.

Torque believes Codexes to be “insufferable show-offs”. On that note, she’s always believed they judged her with their “creepy glowing eyes”.

Torque seems to enjoy drawing, as she keeps a bunch of sketches in her locker, most notably of terrestrial creatures like dogs and frogs. But most importantly, she has one of Axiom in civilian clothing eating noodles, scribbled in it reads “I’m never eating anything else ever again” in Axiom’s perspective. Axiom himself keeps this sketch on his own locker, demonstrating he values it.

Also present on her locker seems to be a touristic poster of the northern lights, presumably Siberian, suggesting she’s fond of her birthplace.

Blueblood - United States, 34 years old

Blueblood managed to live a peaceful life with his family under City 31 during the ADVENT regime. Despite this, he helped others where he could, even members of the Resistance.

Blueblood seems to love and respect his father dearly, as he decided to continue the family tradition of being policemen. The former also keeps a picture of them both after a fishing trip.

On the same note, Blueblood seems to be a fishing enthusiast, as he keeps a poster of the various fishes near City 31.

Blueblood personally knows City 31’s Police Department’s Commissioner Maloof, and even seems to be on friendly terms with her, calling her by her first name, Halia.

Blueblood is seemingly concerned that Terminal seems to be far too eager to put herself into danger. According to her, it’s just that she understands the concept of ”acceptable risk”. Blueblood fears it’s a “death wish“.

Blueblood states that he would not shoot any of his teammates, not even with training purposes, after being asked by Cherub. He instead suggests him to use the ballistic mannequins they already possess.

Blueblood states that Godmother reminds him of his mother, in that she lead his whole family without ever taking charge herself, always pushing them enough to reach their potential. Godmother claims that Blueblood has exceeded his.

Blueblood’s mother passed away back in 2014 due to cancer, and the former claims that “this time of year” always hits him due to it (presumably somewhere between March and May). That said, he’s glad she never got to live to witness the invasion.

On this note, Shelter feels the need to comfort him after noticing something was wrong. Blueblood appreciates this.

Blueblood states that his father used to love heist movies, and the two of them watched them together.

According to Blueblood, ADVENT’s soldiers helmets are “stupid”.

Shelter - Chile, 36 years old

Shelter lived in a big family, but got separated from them during the 2015 invasion.

He was found and experimented on by ADVENT after discovering he had latent psionic potential, forcing him to kill and torture “criminals“ with his abilities. This affected him to the point of crying. He managed to escape from them afterwards.

Shelter is a proud farmer. He was taken in by the Resistance thanks to these skills, and in his locker he keeps a picture of a younger self standing in front of plentiful crops, as well as posters promoting new “delicious and nutritious” breeds of vegetables.

Shelter seems to enjoy chilli, as he was joyed to have some upon his arrival.

Shelter doesn’t like to read other’s minds, as evidenced by Cherub playfully asking him to read his, with Shelter claiming that he “would never” do so.

Shelter knew to some capacity of the Progeny’s leader, Violet. Upon his escape, he psionically contacted her during the event, but then lost connection. Presumably, she was yet to lose her mind due to ADVENT’s experimentations on her. He refers to this connection of emotions as a sort of “poem”.

Shelter is very fond of his squadmates, complimenting them whenever the chance is available, as well as exclaiming against enemies that he won’t allow them to hurt his friends.

Claymore seems to hate it whenever Shelter switches their positions with Relocate, as it makes him feel “queasy”. Blueblood similarly thinks it’s “freaky”. Cherub, on the other hand, consider it to be “so fun”.

According to himself, Shelter doesn’t like banks.

Shelter doesn’t understand why their enemies, in particular members of the Gray Phoenix faction, would be willing to die for their causes.

According to himself, Shelter’s teeth itch, or otherwise rattle, whenever there’s high spikes of power or energy. It’s unknown if this is normal in other human psions.

It would appear that Shelter has a crush on Zephyr, as the latter noticed his face turned red whenever she was around (which she mistook for anger). After discovering this, Zephyr does not seem to be visibly upset, but perhaps surprised, to which Shelter reacts with embarrassment.

Zephyr - Australia, 33 years old

Zephyr is not a clone unlike many former ADVENT soldiers. She presumably was amongst the first humans to be turned into hybrids and then brainwashed to follow the ADVENT regime, presumably similar to Sacred Coil leader Bellus Mar, off whom Cherub was cloned from. It is not known, however, if Zephyr was cloned at any point.

After being liberated the the Skirmishers faction, she joined their ranks and operated near City 31.

Zephyr seemingly does not want hammocks in HQ as per Patchwork’s desire to improve the place. Apparently, there was a mishap regarding this in the past.

According to herself, it seems Zephyr has “always wished” to go bowling.

At least visibly, Zephyr seems to not be too fond of Cherub, as she’s seen referring to him as “knock-off” on occasion.

According to Zephyr, “punch-a-bastard-in-the-face” day is a “roving holiday”, which she enjoys to celebrate.

Zephyr seems to refer to Patchwork as a “nerd”, as she stood by her words whenever the latter was offended by Zephyr’s accusation towards computer-savvy Gray Phoenix members.

Zephyr believes that she has no place in the Skirmishers (or anywhere)  anymore as it began accepting more clones, and due to the fact of her not knowing of her own past as a human. Claymore expresses his profound disagreement, and even though Zephyr states it’s not as simple, she appreciates the words.

[machi-kun]

Thanks for answering my question! And I’d love an in depth explanation of the compatibilities if you’re offering!!

of course! it’s no problem at all, I actually have a lot of fun talking about stuff like this SJDFSKDJFHKDJFS Here’s a brief explanation of why I put them in that order:

1. Rhodey: I feel like this is pretty self-explanatory. Despite Rhodey’s attitude being a little more uptight at times, you can see, in canon, that he’s just as dynamic and wild and capable as Tony, they share a similar humor and they have genuine care and affection for each other. Even if they have bad moments, like in IM2, it’s never out of hatred or anything like that - it’s Tony acting contrary to their friendship on purpose, out of his own issues, not a demonstration that their friendship isn’t as strong as it seems. In fact, it’s only proof that their friendship is as strong as it seems that Rhodey is able to jump back to Tony’s side almost immediately as he realizes what is really happening, and no hard feelings are kept from either of them. Out of everyone else, these two are the ones who truly understand and support each other.

2. Pepper: Pepper goes second because even though she has learned to navigate through Tony’s personality and issues quite well, and they do seem to have a nice relationship, Pepper falls short in a place where Rhodey doesn’t, and that’s why she’s the second, not the first, on this list. Pepper really struggles to understand Tony’s motivations as Iron Man - which is to say, she tries really hard to help Tony with some of his issues, but she goes about it in a less than advisable way. It’s not the worse of problems, certainly not in this list, but it’s enough not to give her first place, because between someone who vehemently tries and fails to conciliate this part of their lives together, in comparison to Rhodey, who does it flawlessly, does indicate that something in their relationship doesn’t fit quite as neatly as the first one does.

3. Natasha: In the MCU, Natasha and Tony are so eerily similar it’s shocking. They both have the same kind of personality, they both are very good in keeping a tight hold on their feelings, but are hopelessly loyal, despite pretending they’re lone wolfs or whatever they want the world to believe they are. They also are adaptable, in a sense that if they need to change plans quickly, change sides, change perspectives, change everything to make a certain mission work, they’ll do it, even if it’s hard - they struggle to live on the line between being practical and being idealists, because they are both, and sometimes they make decisions that hurt each other, but they never harbor too many hard feelings because they understand each other far too much to not see the other’s logic when they try to analyze their decisions. What’s unfortunate about the MCU is that Natasha made one of those decisions at a very essential moment of the story, which makes her seem far more loyal to Steve than to Tony - and whether you believe that or not, it’s up to you, but she doesn’t do it out of dislike for Tony; she merely does it because that’s what they do, they adapt.

4. Bruce: Though Bruce and Tony have opposite reactions to things sometimes, with Bruce choosing to step back because of his insecurities and being far more hesitant for it, and Tony acting despite them even though it costs him, almost to the point of recklessness - they have a very deep understanding of why they do so, much like Natasha and Tony. Both Tony and Bruce share some very similar insecurities, guilt about hurting people when they’re not careful, and despite it all, they still feel strongly enough about it to fight and help, because that’s more important to them than their insecurities. There’s a lot of camaraderie in that. See that Bruce also goes along with Tony in AoU despite their small problems along the way, and also despite Bruce’s fears about Vision coming out like Ultron: because they both understand what they’re trying to do, they don’t doubt the other’s intentions, and even if Bruce is not willing to push himself as far as Tony does, that doesn’t mean he doesn’t understand why Tony does it.

5. Bucky: The thing about compatibility is just that we don’t always have the same amount of shared screentime for every duo, so it’s a little hard to figure out dynamics like this, since they interact so little and in such a specific situation. Based on what I know about these characters’ personalities, I also have to do some theorizing to figure out some more informative details from the dynamics. What I see from Bucky that would be a stepping stone for a great relationship between them is exactly their very careful approach to determine if someone is trustworthy or not. Bucky is in a bad mental state so he’s very cautious, but very open, to gather information - and when is Tony not that? Both are also staggeringly loyal, but Bucky is not loyal the way Steve is, despite their friendship - Steve is forceful, and Bucky is conceding. And guess what - Tony is also conceding. They share an unfortunate amount of trauma too, which, for better or for worse, really adds a layer of understanding between them, even if their history begins with a bad story, it allows a kind of companionship and feeling of protectiveness and community that only a few things in life do. If they had the opportunity to surpass this bad break and become friends - they would be really great friends. It’s a shame they never got the chance.

6/7. Strange and Steve: I put them in the same place not because they have the same problem, but because their problems are equally impeding - they both are too involved in their own plans to make concessions, and that’s something that causes problems with Tony. Tony concedes most of the time, but he’s incapable of doing it all the time, nor he should do it all the time. We haven’t seen enough of Strange for me to believe he has trust issues that run as deep as Steve’s do - he seems to suffer from the same brand of assholery and i-work-better-if-i-make-the-call attitude Tony did at first, but if Tony can grow out of it, there’s no reason for me to believe Strange can’t do it too - even though Strange is, by nature, more reserved than Tony. Steve’s problem runs a little deeper. He and Tony share similar ideals, and they’re both as pro-active, which would put Steve above Strange on this list, but at the same time, he has massive trust issues and we’ve already seen what kind of consequences those trust issues can have between them. I would almost say Steve gets over it thanks so some of his attitudes in Endgame, but alas, his ending contradicts a lot of stuff, so as it stands, it’s very ambiguous how exactly they would be capable of a prolonged, peaceful relationship. 

8. Thor: What makes me really upset about Thor sometimes is his lack of availability to be present and open with the rest of the team. Taika was the only one to get it right, I believe, but unfortunately, since Ragnarok only has Bruce around for us to test that theory, it makes it really hard to get a clear idea of what it would be like had Thor been emotionally available for the others too. I feel like they could get along, had the Thor we saw in Ragnarok continued - if that was the case, I would have put Thor all the way up next to Bruce, but seeing as canon cant make up their mind and changed Thor’s attitude and personality again for IW and Endgame, I have no choice but to assume Thor is simply not compatible for the kind of interactions with Tony that others can have, not the way he ended up being cemented as in canon.

9. Clint: Clint is, by far, the least compatible with Tony, from what I can gather from him. Though it seems at moments that they can be amicable (like the party in AoU) Clint is quick to change his opinion in a way that’s very intense, he can jump from complete mistrust to total attachment in a matter of minutes, and that’s not something Tony can handle, because if there’s something that fucks up Tony a lot is trust issues. Clint also seems to be very mistrusting of Tony in particular, and even if it wasn’t, and he would grant Tony the same “courtesy” he grants Wanda for example, to change his opinion and give the people he finds less than pleasant a chance - he doesn’t do it with an expression of genuine and vulnerable regret, as an apology should; either he doesn’t do it, or he doesn’t do it to the person who deserves to hear it, or he does it too late. Clint’s emotional availability is untrustworthy, and at times it almost seems like his loyalty is untrustworthy, so the way it stands in canon, I think there’s no way they could have had a better relationship than the trainwreck they had.