#nor is she harming them for the sake of it. there's a balance to be struck

[ch0sene]

i think the best way to describe lil really is chaotic neutral. she doesn't think of herself as evil and she doesn't always make the evil choice; she makes the choice that will put her in the best position going forward. killing isobel promises great reward, and a temporary satiation of the hunger that governs her - telling jaheira only that marcus took her and fighting alongside her at last light to earn her trust creates a powerful ally. aiding halsin in his quest to cure the shadow curse has similar benefits.

[davekat-sucks]

I dare you or the next anon to defend Rosemary. It's not bad, but it's way overrated. I've got few points to bring up here to respond to.

-Kanaya lost her personality for its sake: she was relevant and had a few notable connections to characters mainly those who died and Karkat, but after the reunion on the meteor, she suddenly stopped caring about anything; nothing about her son/little brother Karkat, nor the loss of all her friends and her driving motivation to murder Gamzee sponteanously vanished. Just being Rose's "good" girlfriend. (tbh, it could actually be beneficial for the story if Kanaya didn't deus ex machina'd herself into life)

-No boundries: no conflict of interests is passable, but Kanaya basically allows Rose to become alcoholic and do whatever she wants instead of taking a stand for Rose to better herself. This basically made neither of characters have any character development from that point onward or at least none with each other.

-It cancelled possible character development for Kanaya: Kanaya already idolized and were in love with another girl - Vriska, who backstabbed her badly founded feelings in front of her eyes, so what does she do the second that's resolved, falls for another girl without caution, idolizing her bad behaviour (alcohol + the whole grimdark Rose stuff). It really wasn't the best thing.

-They fill the same archetype: for both teams, they're the cold calculating girls who care for friends and engage in sarcasm and acts of gruesome brutality. Such resemblance is almost always bad for a ship dynamic, but for good ships it's balanced by ideological differences like what's justice, is murder fine under correct circumstances, etc. but here they agree on everything, no conflict or anything, they're basically a unit

-Kanaya's role in the story is greatly diminished: as one of the "main" trolls, Kanaya had a couple of things: wizarding with Eridan, being one to talk with Karkat calmly, guiding Rose through Medium, crush on Vriska, friendly relationship with Tavros, having Doc Scratch as First Guardian, getting the Matiorb and at the end also being pissed at Gamzee's murdering. Some of these obviously couldn't have follow up, but besides Rose, only the matriorb stuff had follow up and it was given half-way to Roxy. I'd not exaggerate saying her role in the story after meeting Rose was as notable as that of alpha sprites if not lesser

And that's it if you disagree, please tell me why and if not pass it onto anons. It's not a terrible ship, but if it wins the list above is why I'll be pissed

I actually do have some annoyance with Rosemary. For the ship past Act 6 and the harm it did for Kanaya as a character. Kanaya in Act 6 is just basically enabling Rose's behavior because she wanted that from Vriska. A bad girl who does her own thing and she lets her do that. I sort of miss the girls being playfully sarcastic with each other. That's what had made them interesting in the beginning. And the fact that Kanaya read Rose's guide on Sbub/Sgrub and that's how the trolls were able to make it through before the whole Bec Noir bullshit. She probably should not have been revived because of rainbow drinker. But if Kanaya had to live, then she should have gone through the clown hunting and attempted to kill Gamzee. Fuck Karkat's orders, she has been hurt and killed for trusting someone, she ain't taking chances with another highblood bastard. That would have been a better conflict than letting her human girlfriend get drunk off her ass. I would also say that despite Rose's calculating side, she was also shown to be somewhat mischievous or playful. As she likes to tease John, reference jokes from Sweet Bro and Hella Jeff, showing that she is not your typical cool goth girl. She is actually silly deep down, just acts smart in front of others. It would have been funny to see Kanaya's reactions seeing that side of Rose and accepting that side of her. A much more healthy connection than expecting Rose to do harm on herself or others.

Kanaya should not have been that accepting of Vriska stopping Rose's alcoholism when Post Retcon hit. It was shown that she was still pissed at Vriska for kissing Tavros. It made her worse just forgiving her offscreen. Do we know if Kanaya goes to try to get Vriska again since she is alive in that timeline? Or does she still accept Rose but watches Vriska on the side whenever she wants that bad girl once again? I don't know why Roxy would have to make the Matriorb besides being threatened by The Condesce. In her Roxy's position, trolls, or the Condesce herself, were the cause of her timeline to get fucked. She had to be in hiding and protect herself from the drones. Why would she need to make the Matriob for Kanaya? Because her sister/mom has a crush on her? I doubt that would be enough to sway that there would be decent trolls. If Roxy heard that Kanaya let Rose be drunk because of the guilt of not realizing Mom Lalonde really loved Rose, Roxy would not let Kanaya near Rose. It's funny hearing too that WhatPumpkin writers like Aysha actually hate Rosemary. So guess what they did? They decided to fuck Kanaya over in Epilogues and Homestuck^2 by making Rose cheat on her with Jade, having a secret baby. And they play it off as a polygamy relationship that Kanaya totally is fine with. When we all know she is secretly hating that someone else is fucking her wife. And in the other timeline, Rose LEAVES her for someone else. Dirk Strider. Her fucking brother. To make a new universe without her in it. Rosebot would fuck with Dirk and pitch flirt with Terezi. So Kanaya not only lost her lover to a dog dick girl, but a gay bastard who reached Ultimate God Tier and the other troll friend she barely gave a glance back on the meteor besides maybe speaking with her in one or two Alterniabound sections. If Homestuck^2 would have continued, chances are that the narrative would screw Kanaya over. She would either be killed off, have Rose officially tell Kanaya they are over with and she is left alone again (but it is played as Kanaya trying to be strong and independent without her lover, despite all that happened), or the less likely chance, she goes full on yandere on realizing what happens to herself in both Candy and Meat timelines to kill everyone just to be with Rose forever. WhatPumpkin says they have finished the story for Homestuck^2, but never released it. I hope it never does. Because I don't want to hear what shit they did for Kanaya. So TL;DR, I do agree with you in those points. It had its good moments early on. But by the time Act 6, the dynamic between these two changed and both girls' character developments get fucked over. With Kanaya get the worst out of it when Andrew Hussie and WhatPumpkin decided to make shitty sequels to say "FUCK YOU" towards fans.

[balillee]

why 'there's no lore going on' right now in the dream smp - The Misfits Analogy

Fans of television, especially British television, will probably be familiar with an early 2010's show called Misfits. The show ran for five seasons spanning 2009 to 2013 - while the first two seasons (the first moreso than the second) are regarded more as cult classics, the latter half of the show completely falls in writing and production quality due to one significant change - the cast.

Seasons one and two of Misfits was centred around the original misfits gang - Nathan Young (portrayed by Robert Sheehan), Kelly Bailey (portrayed by Lauren Socha), Simon Bellamy (portrayed by Iwan Rheon), Alisha Daniels (portrayed by Antonia Thomas) and Curtis Donovan (portrayed by Nathan Stewart-Jarrett).

The show was good for two different factors from my perspective -

The intersection of superpowered television and interpersonal conflicts that broke the norm for stereotypes.

How the cast reflected modern British society.

In summary, the show followed a group of five young offenders at a community service centre. Not too interesting - but give them relatability, realism and explore their character development and their existing stereotypes/tropes through the use of superpowers? Genius.

Nathan was most definitely the fan favourite character of the show - he was outgoing, annoying, larger than life in a lot of ways and in all senses, he was a skeevy asshole who would insult characters at every turn. He was very much the class clown of the show and any British viewer could probably see someone they remember from school in Nathan, except Nathan was lovable and you could sympathise with him because you could see him struggling primarily at home and with his family.

Spoilers for the show - Nathan's power was immortality and the ability to resurrect himself from death. This power wasn't explicit immediately either to Nathan or to the audience unlike all of the other young offenders, and it reflected his 'nothing can hurt me ' attitude. Nathan was a character who could take any comment and brush it off like it was nothing, and he in the physical sense could take being thrown off a roof, impaled and practically buried alive and be sitting in his own coffin with his iPod all fine and dandy.

Kelly was also another standout example - her character reflected the stereotype of a chavvy girl, 'council house and violent' - loudmouthed, not very smart, questionable fashion choices and a bit abrasive. The only difference is that the show knew they had to subvert that stereotype - instead, Kelly was smart in her own way and she was empathic -> her superpower was the ability to hear other people's thoughts, and later, she became superintelligent and when her character left the show she decided to move to Uganda use her newfound rocket-scientist level intelligence for good. She was still loudmouthed and definitely chavvy, but she was also a whole human person who cared about other people and who was definitely intelligent.

If I kept going, I'd be lamenting about how season one's cast well reflected and subverted stereotypes and expectations using their superpowers, but I'd be here all day and that's really not the point I'm trying to make.

By the end of season 2, Robert Sheehan, as the standout performance from the show, decides to move on to greener pastures (which,, I don't blame him, being stuck on E4 would have been a nightmare for his career and look where he is now? He's a fan favourite as Klaus in TUA now!) - thus, Nathan is written out of the show in a post- season 2 special in which he gets locked up in prison in America.

This was the first character to get written out of the show.

In season 3, we lose Kelly who moves to Uganda with Seth to defuse landmines, and Simon and Alisha are both killed, and the only remaining member of the original ASBO five is Curtis.

Season 4 rolls around, and we pretty much have an entirely new Misfits cast - Curtis, and then we have Rudy (who had been present since season 3), and then we have new additions Jess, Finn and Abbey.

Let me tell you that by this point in the show, all of the fans had lost interest.

Not only had the two biggest fan favourites, Nathan and Kelly, left the show, but you now have to replace four out of the five original cast members with new ones that don't function the same way the originals did. What type of person is someone with X-ray vision trying to represent? You could argue that maybe Jess is good at figuring people out, but I don't really remember this being explored that much in the show. And the difference between this reflecting a minor personality trait is that the original cast didn't do that - in dumbed down terms, Alisha was a 'sket' who had the power to make people horny for her, oftentimes against her wishes, through skin-to-skin contact. That's much more impactful and there's a lot more to explore there.

Episode 7 of Season 4 of Misfits is the clearest indicator of the departure of the original show's intentions and explains perfectly why it didn't work the way it used to.

For the entirety of the season, Jess had been crushing on a guy called Alex from a bar she frequented (who later went on to replace Curtis as the fifth Misfits member in season 5, go figures) who, as far as we had seen, not at all reciprocated those feelings nor was there any indication of him wanting to.

In episode 7, we figure out why.

Jess, using her x-ray vision, finds out that Alex's penis was stolen by a trans man.

I'll be honest, when I first heard it, I thought it was a joke.

The show went from having a diverse cast, not only in terms of having two black characters in it's main cast, but also in it's diversity of character tropes that they aimed to subvert - to then having a mainly white cast in a show that actively perpetuates harmful stereotypes about trans people being dangerous.

Now, and I want to preface this, I don't think that the Dream SMP is malicious in the same way that the writing of that episode of Misfits is. I don't think the SMP is malicious at all. What I want to highlight is how the change in cast directly mirrored when the audience dropoff was and when the show itself started to go south in terms of quality, production and what they wanted to achieve.

For the sake of my argument, there is currently three seasons of the dream smp. The start of the server up until the end of the initial disc war is the prologue, season one encompasses Wilbur's L'Manberg and the Pogtopia arc, ending on November 16th, season 2 starts November 17th and ends January 20th (the disc war finale) and season 3 spans from January 21st to the present day.

Most of the fans of the Dream SMP can tell you that the primary story of the server is centred around quite a few certain characters who viewers started watching to see more of. I'm guilty of this myself - I primarily watch the SMP for Tommy's story, and I also stick around for Wilbur, Tubbo, Ranboo and a little bit for Phil, Techno and Jack Manifold. Those were the people I was invested in and those are the stories I like to follow. Not to discredit or to downplay the work or the stories of other characters, but I can imagine that there are a few people who watch the SMP primarily for a close few perspectives/storylines, and following some storylines over others just because you're not interested in them is completely fine and there's nothing wrong with that at all.

In season one, there was always things going on with my favourite characters. Tommy was always getting himself into spots of trouble and making up different schemes to get people to come visit L'Manberg as a tourist attraction, or getting people to support the rebellion, and this was interspersed with the heavier, plot-driven moments such as Wilbur's mental breakdown, the festival, the pit fight and the season 1 finale. This got me invested in him as a character because he had been there for quite a while and we'd seen him develop and grow into the character we now see in season 3.

In the back half of season 1 came Techno, who really shook things up and threw a spanner in the works and provided a totally different perspective - unlike Dream he didn't hate L'Manberg because he couldn't control it, and unlike Wilbur he didn't have a personal connection to it and he didn't know it's history. Techno initially hated L'Manberg because it was a government he knew nothing about (and still knows nothing about even today), and because violence and destruction is kind of his thing.

We had a well balanced cast of characters - not too many - that we could follow and who all had varying perspectives, experiences and personalities. We had clearly defined groups of individuals with different morals: you had the people on the side of Manberg, the people in Pogtopia who wanted Manberg blown up, the people in Pogtopia who didn't want Manberg blown up, and on the side to compliment it all you also had the Badlands, comprised of three longstanding members of the server,,,, and then Antfrost who was kidnapped by Tommy that one time. It was all wrapped up nicely in a neat little bow and there was structure to it all. There was one plot that went in one direction, and despite the many perspectives, it all ended up in the same spot and the story ended. There was a conclusion.

In season 2, the two primary additions to the 'cast' were Phil and Ranboo, whose characters complimented the existing story well. Phil functioned mostly as a successor to Wilbur alongside Ghostbur by exploring well the departure of Wilbur as a character in that moment, and he also functioned well as a companion to Techno's character. Ranboo, on the other hand, had a pretty good complimentary solo story that could be followed alongside the main plot, however his story wasn't too distant from the main story to the point where he was completely removed from it - he had direct involvement in different events such as the exile conflict, his connection to Dream as the main antagonist of the season and his involvement in blowing up the community house.

Season 2 starts with a focus on two different spaces - it breaks up a longstanding duo and the storyline diverges into two halves: Logstedshire and New L'Manberg, and you have Techno's short 'retirement' arc working decently to compliment it and also to set the tone for his character going forward in that season. In Logstedshire we see the aftermath of Tommy being exiled from L'Manberg by Dream - we see him endure what is (in canon) at least a month of isolation and physical and psychological abuse and it culminates on December 15th when Tommy rescues himself, jumps from the tower and goes to hide in Techno's house (which acts as a good precursor to his involvement in Techno's storyline in that season). On the other side, we follow Tubbo in L'Manberg dealing with Presidency - he talks a lot and gets 'friendly' with Dream, he prepares to run against Ranboo in the coming election cycle (primarily because he doesn't want to be President) and we see his interactions with the power-hungrier Quackity who all too often takes the reigns and this culminates in the creation of the Butcher Army, and following the Butcher Army's attack on December 16th, once again, we have two clearly defined sides:

One one side, we have Tubbo, Quackity and Fundy who represent L'Manberg, and on the other we have Tommy (who is unaware of the Butcher Army's attack), Phil and Techno, and more in the middle we have Ghostbur and Ranboo.

Season 2's finale format is a clear departure for the format of November 16th, but it's not a poor choice - I think, especially considering the story that they were telling, it worked perfectly. On November 16th, pretty much everyone was streaming their perspective of the event; at the time, there were even compilations of everyone's reactions to Wilbur blowing up L'Manberg. On January 20th, however, we only had two perspectives - Tubbo and Tommy.

I'll say it now, while Season 2 was definitely Clingyduo's season, it didn't focus solely on them. There was also a big focus on Techno as a character, whose arc came to an end a little earlier on Doomsday, and there was also a focus on Ranboo a lot as a solo character, and he streamed a little later on January 20th with what I refer to as the 'epilogue', where there was also a shift in his character to expect moving forward.

Why season 2's finale worked is because it was centralised around only three characters, only two of which we ever see the perspectives of, and it was the finale of the longest running storyline of the entire narrative - the disc war. Two boys who were on their last life, making their last stand at the one man who pulled the strings to make their lives miserable - those two perspectives only, and it worked. We didn't have compilations of everyone reacting to the things happening around them which worked for season 1, instead, we focused on these two characters whose turn it was to get the focus, and we had iconic and moving moments. We had the two boys walking down the prime path saying what they could only assume might have been their last goodbyes to the people that still had a shred of care for them, we had the two sailing to where they would face off against Dream for their final stand and finally talking about their feelings a little and dreading the implication that if they were both to die, nobody would live to tell their stories, we had Tommy choosing his best friend over his discs time and time again, and we had Punz - Dream's last confidant - standing against Dream and bringing everyone with him and sending him to prison, now on his last life too.

Everything about it was perfect. The more focused ending worked for the ending of season 2 because it was their time to have their climax moment - and it wasn't some spectacular display of explosions or violence like in Wilbur's finale on November 16th, where the ramifications hit everyone and we got to see it, nor was it a show of violence and almost oppressive dominance like Techno's finale was on Doomsday, where we saw everyone's breakdown and how the people contributing to the destruction of L'Manberg, no matter how righteous they thought they were, did not care to understand how much they were hurting and destroying the lives of the country's citizens. On January 20th, Tommy and Tubbo went into it thinking they were going to die, they got their asses handed to them despite how hard they tried, and they had their behinds saved by Tommy's preparative thinking by people who weren't there to save them more than they were there to get rid of Dream.

Season 3 suffers a lot from a lack of focus, awful pacing and really poor timing.

Seasons 1 and 2 occurred during the brunt of the coronavirus pandemic, where everyone was stuck at home and had more time to stream because it was their primary form of content and because it was the best way to communicate with their friends. Thus, the pacing of those seasons was extremely steady and things were always happening.

Now, lockdown restrictions have eased quite a bit, and creators can branch out a lot more and can meet with each other in real life and can do vlog-style content. Therefore, they don't stream as much, and the focus of the Dream SMP story has shifted more towards newer or sideplot characters. If you enjoy those characters, that's fine, but when they take the focus away from the characters and the storylines the majority are expecting, a lot of people won't try to keep up with it and from their perspective there'll be a massive lull in narrative content.

What I'm saying, is that Tommy streaming for thirteen days in a row in July 2021 is a fucking pipe dream. It happened in December because the story was consistent and the pacing was steady and he had the time and the want to be there. Now, Tommy's off making his vlogs and hanging out with his friends and thus he can't stream as much as he used to. He's sort of suffering from the Robert Sheehan problem, isn't he? Tommy is still involved with the Dream SMP and his story is definitely continuing, and his narrative in season 3 is really starting to pick up with the newer developments, it's just that he doesn't have as much time to play the role anymore because he isn't streaming as much.

I'm not saying this is a bad thing - it's obviously making him happy that his content is changing and I'm fully supportive of that.

So when all of these meetups are happening and we don't have as much content from the main characters that we follow anymore, what happens?

Well, the fans get a little itchy. This fandom, especially. They might throw out a comment or a tweet asking when they're going to stream on the SMP, or if they really don't understand why the Dream SMP is good, they'll ask when the next 'lore stream' is, and they'll lament a little about how the content and the story has slowed, especially in contrast to the fast pacing of season 2 which only lasted a little over two months with much more story going on than in season 3 despite it having been going on for triple the time. What they'll get in response is that the Dream SMP is still going on and that lore is still happening.

On all accounts, these statements aren't incorrect. Lore still is happening.

But when you've been following lovable characters for two seasons, setting up their struggles and then switching the focus onto newer or 'sideplot' characters that you haven't really followed before, there's going to be a bit of moaning about it on twitter dot com.

The SMP now suffers from having too many characters, too many unfocused narratives, and poor pacing/ditched or unfinished storylines from the characters we used to follow and love while we're being told to love other characters instead.

I never really cared too much about the egg subplot, I'll be honest. I was a little interested in the involvement of Sam, Puffy and Ponk, but other than that, I wasn't really too invested. It very much tried to replicate the 'you should have paid me more' moment from January 20th at the Red Banquet, and it really didn't hit as hard because most of the characters there were either ones that didn't belong there at all (like Niki, Fundy, HBomb, and Purpled), weren't that involved with the plotline and felt out of place with the established characters in that storyline (Techno, Quackity and Ranboo), or were new characters that were difficult to get on board with because they hadn't really had too much of a story beforehand (Hannah and Foolish), or in the case of Antfrost, characters with no known motivation to be there other than that being the storyline they're currently in. Not to discredit those involved or their characters, but the Red Banquet really tried to replicate what the disc finale did with it's focused perspectives and it's Punz moment, and it failed.

Now, following the egg subplot's finale, I'm meant to focus on Las Nevadas, Snowchester and the Syndicate.

Las Nevadas is the most consistent storyline, however it's biggest problem is that it is filled with new characters or ones that are barely there. Despite how long he's been on the server, Purpled really is a new character if only because he's only really become a character recently - Foolish is still considered new, Slimecicle is new, Fundy rarely streams on the SMP. The only consistent longstanding and heavily involved characters that are a part of Las Nevadas are Quackity and Sam, and even their streams are infrequent, with a lot of Sam's perspective not even focusing on Las Nevadas but instead the prison.

Snowchester's plot is very much dying, dead and in the water. She's suffering. We haven't seen Michael in over a month, a nuke is still missing, Jack Manifold is dubiously a citizen and Tubbo doesn't even think he has a character on the SMP. It breaks my heart.

The Syndicate suffer from a lack of existence. The four characters really aren't a friend group in canon - all of the stuff about them hanging out all the time and them basically being a book club is all fanon. They've hung out as a four all of twice, the first time they ever got together they celebrated someone's death and then basically invaded Snowchester to give themselves a reason not to destroy it, terrifying Tubbo in the process. The second time was because it was Techno's birthday.

Now, Techno is in prison, and the only reason Phil hasn't read the will to progress the story is likely because of difficult scheduling with other server members, which is written off in canon as Phil not wanting to accept the possibility of Techno potentially dying.

Literally reading the will and having the Syndicate figure out that Techno's in prison with Dream will solve all of season 3's formatting issues and have the story back on track.

Currently, we don't really have two clearly defined sides the way we always had. We were meant to root for L'Manberg against the Dream Team, we were meant to root for Pogtopia against Manberg, and in season 2 we had a lot more moral ambiguity and room for side switching between the forces of Dream, Techno and Phil against L'Manberg, and then we rooted for Clingyduo against Dream.

I can predict that if the will is read, here's how a good conflict can arise.

Two clearly defined different sides - Las Nevadas on the side of Pandora's Vault, and the Syndicate (currently consisting of Phil, Ranboo and Niki), and you have compromises to make. If the side of the Prison wins, Techno and Dream stay in Pandora's Vault without a proper trial and being treated inhumanely, and there's also the threat of the rest of the Syndicate also being imprisoned. If the side of the Syndicate wins, the prison is taken out and Techno and Dream are no longer being treated inhumanely - problem is that Dream's out, and he's very much dangerous because despite what c!Dream apologists will tell you, he's not docile and he's not going to have a healing arc with Techno because he doesn't think he's done anything wrong and Techno can't tell him that he's done anything wrong (because Techno is the most wilfully ignorant character who gets to be political it's INSANE) - he'll go right back to the evil, abusive bastard he was, obsessed with Tommy, probably worse now that he can easily get Wilbur to do anything he wants and more vindictive against Quackity. Plus, if the Syndicate take down Las Nevadas they'll hold the most power on the server systematically and the so-called anarchists will ironically be the top dogs of the server.

Then towards the middle you'll probably end up having Wilbur, Benchtrio and Jack Manifold - Tubbo and Jack would prefer Techno and Dream staying in prison, except Tubbo's really not on the greatest terms with Q at the minute (because Q's paranoid and making conflict with parties that would have otherwise helped him out and thought they were friends), whereas Tommy would be stuck between wanting Techno out but needing to either keep Dream in or kill him, and Wilbur will be having to pick between aiding Dream's escape from prison or staying with Tommy, because he can't have both. Ranboo will probably be having the same problem as Tommy, except he's on the side of the Syndicate and will have to pick between the Syndicate or keeping Dream imprisoned.

Season 3 is salvageable, it really is. You can fix the poor pacing and you can fix the lack of focus with literally one revelation from fucking Philza M|necraft. But as it stands now, season 3 suffers from a similar situation as Misfits - almost replacing the cast of characters we've followed for the longest time with a new one in a format completely different to the original seasons.

[markberries]

a l l  i  w a n t ┊draco malfoy

anon requested: could you do a draco x reader imagine where it’s enemies to lovers but one day at a party draco gets drunk and confesses his feelings?

info: being tormented by draco was a normal thing for you, but one day everything changes when you find out his true thoughts.

warnings: blood, cursing

genre: slight angst, fluff, enemies to lovers, gryffindor!reader, fem reader

word count: 2700+

a/n: i decided to not make this a party scene because i feel like all my stories end up there, so it’s a little different. sorry if this ruined your request! also i stole hermione’s iconic scene lmao

you rarely hated anyone. most of the time, you enjoyed another person’s company. you enjoyed hearing them talk about things they were excited about, how they did on their recent exam, and you let them vent their sorrows to you. it was like getting a peak into another person’s life, you got to view how it felt like to be them.

so no, you did not really hate anyone, except for one bleach blonde snob with daddy’s credit card; draco malfoy. his cologne hurt your nose, it reminded you of axe body spray, back in the muggle world. he always used his “pureblood status” as a valid excuse to verbally assault those who did not carry the same reputation as him.

you convinced yourself that you did not care for him, or that you hated him, but something in the back of your mind had your eyes drifting to his smooth looking skin in the middle of a class, or the thought of how his hair looked extra soft. you were the type of person to dust those thoughts off and continue with your day, but that did not stop you from thinking about him any other day.

so you gripped your wand in your hand, pointed at draco, who had just insulted hermione for the sake of shits and giggles. he looked at you, as if he were waiting for you to strike, as if he knew that you weren’t going to do it.

“what do we have here? a halfblood? trying to harm me?” an irritating snicker emits from him and his two goons. a surge of anger powers through you, and you’re at a point where you want to spew hurtful words and cast menacing spells, but you knew where that would get you. it would get you a one way ticket out of hogwarts.

your face is beginning to heat up; not from embarrassment, but from annoyance. people passing by the courtyard paid no attention, they continued to talk loudly and ignore the commotion surrounding you five.

“what are you gonna do, huh?”

“y/n, i appreciate the help, but it’s better to ignore him,” hermione assures you, setting a hand gently on your shoulder. you should have listened to her. you wished you had listened to her.

in that spur of ignorance and rage, for you hated draco that much, you launched your fist into malfoy’s face, making him fall to the ground and hold his nose in pain.

you see a tad bit of blood coming out of his nose, and you swore you heard a crack when your fist met his face. now realizing your wrong doings, your eyes widen as professor mcgonagall comes marching towards the scene. 

“what on earth happened?” she asks, concerned while picking up malfoy off the ground, who was still groaning, it was a bit dramatic in your opinion. you didn’t know how to start explaining yourself — you couldn’t just say “he was pissing me off”. no, definitely not.

“he was saying hurtful and offensive things, not only towards me, but towards hermione as well,” you say, hoping that your punishment wouldn’t be too severe.

“it should not have resulted in violence, ms. y/l/n,” mcgonagall lectures you, now dragging draco towards the school entrance. “we will decide on the proper punishment after mr. malfoy recovers in the infirmary, for now, i think it’s best you think of an apology to give him, yes?”

with that, professor mcgonagall walks away with malfoy, crabbe and goyle following behind her. you sigh, facepalming.

hermione stood in front of you, asking, “why did you do that?” it was obvious that she was trying to stifle her own laughter, but you are the one who ends up giggling in amusement.

“i had to! it was malfoy!” you reply, making her let out a small laugh as well. you two began walking towards your next class together, meeting up with harry and ron in the hallways.

“you what!?” ron asks in disbelief, looking at you as you all walked together. “bloody hell, you know that draco’s father isn’t going to be happy about this.” 

“i know,” you reply, almost carelessly. 

“are you not worried?” ron questions again, you simply shrug in response. ron makes a face, like he was thinking of how worried he would be if lucius malfoy would treat him after he punched draco.

“always thought draco fancied you,” harry mutters as you all enter the defence against the dark arts classroom, and you nearly choke on your own saliva.

“i’m sorry?” you manage to get out, making harry look at you.

“oh you know, i thought everyone was thinking the same thing,” he tells you, and you cannot believe what you’re hearing.

“you must be mistaken,” you laugh awkwardly, sitting down at your desk, beside hermione.

“you two are always at each other’s throats, you claim to hate each other, i wouldn’t be surprised if malfoy liked you, if i have to be honest.”

setting your books down on the carved wooden table, you tap your fingers on the desk. you fell deep into thought, resting your head among your hand, propping yourself up. 

it would be unexpected — no, odd, yes, it would be quite odd if draco malfoy fancied you. although it was not believable nor confirmed, it still had you thinking. would it be strange to date draco? it couldn’t be that bad, right? you could see who he was. who he really was, not that tough, and might i add, annoying front that he put up, no — you would be able to discover the reality behind draco malfoy.

his fears, his dreams, his hopes — the possibilities were endless. there may be some obstacles, his father for example, but every relationship had obstacles.

you shake off your odd thoughts, reminding yourself that this was draco malfoy. the pureblood who insulted you everyday, the boy who thought he was better than everyone else, the boy you had just punched, for god’s sake.

finally, you are broken out of your own trance by professor lupin, tapping on your desk.

“yes, professor?” you ask, looking up at him. he offers you a warm smile, saying, “professor mcgonagall wishes your presence in the infirmary.”

oh shit.

—

“ah,” mcgonagall says when you walk through the door. “well then, i’ll leave you to it.”

you scrunch your eyebrows in confusion, “i’m sorry? leave me to do what?”

“apologize. i’m sure you heard me tell you to make one, yes? although, we did have to cast a spell that makes mr. malfoy a bit disoriented so that we could repair his broken nose.” with that, the professor exits, leaving you with malfoy, who was laying in his bed, eyes boring into your own.

“i see you’re all fixed up, aren’t you?” you remark, glaring at him. he doesn’t respond, perhaps the spell’s side effects were the reason. after a pause, he begins to speak.

“mcgonagall said, you have to apologize.”

you didn’t want to apologize. who would want to? but you knew you had to, you didn’t want draco’s father to be on your ass for the rest of your hogwarts years. sitting down in the seat next to draco’s bed, you sigh to yourself.

“fine. i’m sorry, i guess.”

the room goes quiet; not an awkward silence, but a calm one. it washes over you unexpectedly, as you had never imagined what a calm silence would be like around draco malfoy. 

at this point, he’s still staring at your face. you’re trying your best to avoid his gaze, not wanting to look into his eyes. he smiles at you, drowsiness taking over him.

“you know, you’re quite pretty when you’re not bitching,” he says, but it seemed like he wasn’t directly saying it to you — it was as if he was talking to himself.

“what?” you say quietly, and draco turns to the side, the opposite direction of you.

“you heard me. i think you’re pretty.”

a million thoughts race through your mind, negative and positive. the only sound that you swore you could hear in the empty room was your own heartbeat, pounding out of your chest as you replayed malfoy’s words repeatedly in your head. before you could question malfoy longer, he was already fast asleep.

—

the next few days had you stumped. you forgot how to act around draco, you no longer made your smartass remarks, and he would constantly catch you glancing at him. after his odd confession, it was like something changed in you.

“what are you looking at, halfblood?” draco spits at you, you’re quick to look down at your feet and spew out an apology. draco, who was fully expecting you to throw some nasty words at him, was baffled. he had never seen you pass an opportunity to argue with him. yes, sometimes you would go quiet when you two fought, often when he took his insults too far; but not like this.

“cat got your tongue?” draco tried his best to provoke you, to get you to merely look at him, but you seemed far more interested in looking down at the ground. it irritated him, so he strutted up to you and grabbed your face with his left hand aggressively, earning a yelp from you. he lifted your chin swiftly, seeing a scared look on your face.

“look at me when i talk to you, halfblood,” he laughed, letting go of you. you still refused to speak, draco’s former words in the infirmary occupying all your thoughts. draco needed you to say something, anything.

“what are you? mute?” he carried on, heads turning at the scene unfolding before everyone in the courtyard, where you were previously holding a wand up to malfoy’s face. 

“leave me alone, draco,” you muttered, shoving him away. your voice wasn’t the same anymore. it was quiet, it almost sounded helpless, but not quite. as if you were unsure of what to do, or what to say.

when you pushed draco, he lost his own balance and landed straight on his arse, the ground making a light squish noise. giggles came from people passing by as draco stood back up, wet grass littering his robe.

he brushed himself off, before glaring back at you. “oh you’ll pay for that.”

“again, you two!?” a familiar voice shouted, once again, it had been professor mcgonagall. you were red with embarrassment, being caught fighting with draco once was a mistake, being caught twice was humiliating. both you and draco’s heads snapped to look at the upset professor.

“professor-” she cut you off, shaking her head in disappointment. “i’ve had enough of both of your shenanigans. both of you, detention.”

—

you had never gotten detention. then again, you also had never punched draco malfoy in the nose, nor have you ever considered dating him, so this week was full of unexpected events.

“this is your fault,” you hissed at draco, carefully reorganizing the books in the library. draco scoffed, flipping through pages of a random novel you had put aside to sort later. you had regained your sass from the shameful moment that you had been assigned to rearrange all the hardbacks and paperbacks hours ago.

“me? you’re the one who decided to send my ass to the ground,” he sneered, placing the book in the correct shelf, “or have you already forgotten about my broken nose?” draco added.

your cheeks began to heat up again, and you avoided malfoy’s gaze. you tried your best to shake off draco’s words,  but his flattering remark had not left your head since he said it.

“why do you keep doing that?” draco asked, and you froze. had he noticed?

“what do you mean, malfoy?”

“you keep doing that. i assume that you weren’t interested in arguing with me today, because most of the time, you never shut that big mouth of yours.”

“i’m never interested in arguing with you, malfoy,” you sighed, your back still facing him. you could feel his eyes burning into your backside, but you didn’t turn around. you didn’t want to turn around.

“not what i mean, halfblood. i’m saying you always have something to say.”

“okay, and i don’t see a problem here. i just didn’t have anything to say to you today.”

draco throws a book on the table next to you, forcing you to turn around to face him, annoyance written all over your face.

“today? don’t you mean the past few days? do you think i’m that dense?”

both of your voices had slighted raised a volume, but quiet enough so that professors wouldn’t come running in to check out the commotion.

“what is your problem malfoy? i just didn’t feel like arguing with you today. why are you acting like you’re offended or concerned?”

“i’m not. i just enjoy seeing how angry you can get when i call your little friend granger a mudblood.”

“don’t call her that.”

“so tell me then, halfblood. what changed? why are you so afraid to fight back?”

“you. you changed.”

the room went silent again. both you and draco stared at each other, a confused expression on his face, but a stoic one on yours. this wasn’t your ideal situation, you didn’t want to tell malfoy about what happened, and you weren’t going to, until now. 

you wished that draco hadn’t pushed, and you wished that draco stopped asking so many questions. you wished for a lot of things, but none came true. so many things were unplanned within your current state of affairs, like how you realized how attractive draco was, or how he always tried his best in classes, but he chose to play the “dumb rich boy”.

“you’re not making sense,” he said, taking a seat. you were fidgeting with your hands, looking at the ground. you were shifting your weight back and forth from your right foot to your left.

“you said something, when you were in the infirmary,” you rambled, looking back up at draco. he still had that same confused look on, and you were having second thoughts about this conversation, but it was too late.

“you called me pretty.”

it takes a moment for draco to process this — it’s like you can see what he’s thinking, judging from the flash of emotions on his face. first it’s embarrassment, the sudden pink tint rising as his eyes grow wide. next is a smile being held back, almost like he was thinking about how you might have reacted. lastly was deep thought, thinking about what to say next.

“well?” you ask, eagerly awaiting his response. you wished that he would yell and deny it, but like i said, you wished a lot of things.

“you are quite pretty.”

if draco had denied it, you would’ve continued living your life. you would have continued to argue with him and you would have continued to insult him whenever you got the chance. you wanted him to have said “you? you’re absolutely delusional”, so that you could cut off the thoughts about how much you wanted to feel draco’s hand on your own, go on dates with him, and rearrange his bland wardrobe.

that’s what you would have done if he denied it.

“i’m sorry?”

“odd, isn’t it? i thought it was a dream, truly i did. i thought i had made the entire thing in my head, i mean, i never expected you to ever apologize to me. guess i was wrong.”

you were dumbstruck, after all those offensive comments, after all those arguments and years of torment, draco malfoy had just admitted that he thought you were pretty.

“you’re lying,” you say.

“i’m not. you know what they say, bad attention is better than none at all, and you bet i wanted your attention.”

something he said made your heart swell, and you were staring into his eyes in awe. you smile, your eyes turning into crescents.

“malfoy,” you say.

“what is it, halfblood?”

“i want you to kiss me.”

draco stands up, walking towards you. bringing his lips to yours, your stomach explodes with butterflies as your hands wrap around his neck to bring him closer. you felt weightless, like you were floating. you expected his lips to be chapped, but they were quite soft, like your lips were on a cloud. there were no thoughts running through your head, it was like someone else had taken control over you.

when you two break apart for air, you rest your forehead on his, looking into his grey eyes. he was smirking, of course he was. you were smiling back at him, his hands wrapped around your waist.

“guess we have to go on a proper date other than detention then, am i right y/n?”

that was the first time he had ever used your real name instead of halfblood. finally, you realized, maybe draco wasn’t all that bad.

[papers4me]

Fruits Basket, SE03, Ep1

I’m here! The final season continues from where se02 oddly left, right in the middle of a conversation! XD.

-Tohru’s crushed heart (scarf): Excellent symbolism!

Tohru, burdened with trying to lift the curse of teen & adult sohmas, is now also troubled by trying to help Arisa’s romantic life is sad for akito! Too much for compassionate selfless tohru. Unable to help, protect & erase the pain, tohru crumbles. Freezes. Her white scarf (heart) flies away, gets crushed by cars & becomes dirty. But here comes a boy ( who thinks himself a monster) picks it up, cleans & returns it back. He thinks nothing of his deed. nothing heroic abt saving a scarf, really. But do we need to be heroes to save others? kyo saves tohru by being kyo. Not the zodiac cat & not the menacing monster. Her heart is saved by him, shown much care & returned back. Mind you, the heart (scarf) is not brand new after the delima. It’s not very clean after being crushed, some marks remain, but these are marks of growth!!! you walk away after hardships carrying minor scars of victory. This scene solidify kyo’s role in tohru’s life as an equal companion. Not a heroic prince charming. It is the little things he does that shows who he is. kyo isn’t abt big soft words, he doesn't say the best things. he is a man of action. His care, love & compassion comes so very easily & naturally to him thro actions. This is what yuki meant by saying he’s jealous of kyo. Yuki over thinks his steps & doubt everything before he acts. Kyo acts spontaneously then doubts himself later. He saves the scarf (heart) then tells her directly to buy another one if she feels it’s not clean. He failed to see how this trivial action meant the world to tohru. Tohru smiles lively cuz her heart is back to her.

Why is the scarf scene so important? (aka furuba’s best usage of symbolism yet!)

It symbolizes tohru’s toxic flaw that she must overcome! It represents tohru’s tormented heart over other ppl’s pain with severe neglect to her own problems & issues. Arisa’s love life shouldn’t be tohru’s delima, nor Akito’s complex or Kureno’s or the damned curse. Tohru toxically chooses to bear other burdens’ until they crush her.

Hana can’t come to save tohru from pain each time tohru indulges in it. Tohru must realize her own flaw & grow up beyond this toxic type of kindness. Feel & help others, but don’t use them to escape your pain & don’t indulge in their own struggles & neglect yourself. There is a reason hana’s knowing of tohru’s pain is thro “magical” waves, to symbolize that this can’t become a norm, not real. You can’t depend on magic to grow. I love that!

The white scarf bearing smudges of the tires even after kyo washed it shows that kyo’s love & care can’t magically heal all tohru’s pain. It parallels kyo’s words from se01, ep,24 when he said tohru didn’t heal all his pain, but he feels better simply cuz she stayed by his side. Tohru now is feeling better cuz kyo chose was there for her. Love doesn’t magically heal you, kids! But it sure puts you on the path! Also, this once again adds more depth to the (tohru/kyo) equal give & take dynamics.

This scene deconstruct the image of Tohru represented as an angelic mother throughout 2 seasons. Instead, It paints her as a real flawed girl with much need for growth. Exactly, like how we have learned by now that kyo isn’t a horrible monster nor a prince charming saving the day, but a flawed boy with much need for growth. However, these two push each other forward in a subtle way through daily situations! Excellent writing!!

-Kureno. (aka. who tohru should never become):

The harmful kindness: Kureno is someone who hurts himself & hurt many others (akito, arisa, shigure, & consequently the rest of the zodiacs) by giving the harmful types of kindness to akito, by completely erasing his own needs, desires & living for the sake of someone who would be far better without him. Kureno is who tohru might have become if she selflessly continues fighting solely for the sohma’s sake & trying to break the curse while ignoring her own life. She’ll become as miserable as kureno & the zodiacs will become dependable on her.

The destructive pity: Kureno pities this tormented child (akito) & chooses to stay with her until her tears dry. This pity is destructive cuz it is done while he wishes to be miles away with Arisa & it encourages akito to stay as she is. Look, a child whose mom hates her deserves pity. But an adult woman needs to learn to build relationships based on mutual affection & respect. This talk of pity reminds me of kyo & kagura. Kagura pitied the cat zodiac. The relationship was doomed cuz kyo refuses pity. It doesn’t matter if her pity turned into love later. Kyo doesn’t want that from her or anyone. There is NO equality there. We know tohru came to love kyo for all the times he was there for her & all the times he pushed her to improve, to complain, to want things! she said so in se01, ep, 24. But we also know that young baby tohru pitied the cat when her mom told her the zodiacs story. what if kyo thinks tohru’s affection is pity???? that’s a big NO for him & for every person. I really want tohru to be as far from any kurno’s traits as possible!!!

-Akito, the pitiful woman:

Akito was born a girl, forced to be raised as a boy by her mother’s demands? where is the father?? she was hated by her mother. why? she also hates her mom. (hate your child & they’ll hated you). So, akito is doomed by her mom. Akito tries to prove that she’s loved by the zodiac “she specified the male zodiacs” interesting! we saw how she hates both Isuzu & kisa & doesn’t give a damn abt kagura. This woman, forced to pose as a man, actually desires to be treated as a woman. As for the other zodiacs:

No worries abt hatori leaving cuz he’s 24/7 attending to her health.

Ayame makes tea exclusively for her & hatori.

she thinks Ritsu is too timid to attempt leaving.

Hiro’s a baby, momiji is hated cuz she can’t break him.

Kyo is destined to be locked. but Why she cares abt the cat anyway?? She publicly hates him & feels disgusted by him.

She used to control yuki but can’t anymore.

she uses intimacy to bound those who “can” leave her the most: kurno! & shigure? she sleeps next to shigure in the valentine ep. hatori remarked: don’t let akito catch cold. We saw the sexually charged rage in se02, ep10. So, she isn’t faithful to kureno. They don’t have a relationship. She doesn’t even have a relationship with shigure, either. to her, sex is a tool to tie them both to her?

It is ironic that the person who said she despises woman & accuses Isuzu of seducing hatori is herself seducing others. Except, tragically, kureno isn’t with her for herself, but cuz he pities her. We saw her slapping & embracing him. Next scene; her bare shoulders & his unbuttoned shirt clearly implies they got intimate which is what akito does to feel secure in kureno not leaving her. Kureno is not even interested in her despite submitting to her advances, needs & orders. He does it out of pity. Truly the most tragic form of physical affection: sex for pity. wow... how tragically pitiful is the abusive ruler of the zodiacs who looms over them & demands respect & eternal bonds. How can she find someone who’ll love her for herself, if she doesn’t learn to show good sides of her? Yuki wasn’t loved for who he is in school, but for being the “prince”, he showed his real character & got himself true friends & soon a lover!!!  Kyo, was feared & pitied for turning into a “monster”, but once he showed his kind & harmless self, he got himself true friends & a girl who loves him for his actual personality! Who will love akito for who she is if she only shows a spoiled child, horrible family head or a pitiful woman? What does shigure love in her? he doesn’t seem to pity her nor pamper her much, does he?  perhaps we’ll know more abt the real akito later.

Side notes:

Akito’s mom reminded me of kyo’s dad. Abused children, who are hated by their parents, don’t let go of the hurt easily. they’ll always try to either get their approval, show them they were worthy of their love, or they’re NOTHING like their parents think they are. eg: Kyo’s biological father’s hate has destroyed kyo. Kyo have kazuma & tohru & he still wonder why they love him. It took kyo 17 years to actually promise to call kazuma "dad” one day in se01 finale. You need time to heal the wounds inflected by the ones who should love you the most. Being loved by others doesn’t magically heal you! You need to take few steps forward.

Isuzu is Ren’s clone! finally understanding why the severe hate from akito towards Isuzu. I’ll wait for more Ren/Akito content before analyzing their relationship.

Ren is so sexy. ngl, the scene of the zodiacs touching her belly after she just *conceived* akito is so creepy~ ew! 

Hana picked up tohru first before kyo, cuz this show isn’t exclusive for romantic love as much as it isn’t exclusive for friendship. There is balance. 

Tohru needs her own future, so does Arisa & hana! Learn to accept the limit of what you can do as a friend, tohru.. forever loving furuba for steering away from “friends stay together forever~yay” anime trope! Furuba is abt independent & individual adult life! building your own future! Epic writing!

Forever fascinated by how much the little small ordinary daily life things has really built kyo-tohru love! It feels so real & very uniquely built! Excellent writing!

Arisa is stuck with an adult man trapping himself in the most unnecessary love triangle. Kureno’s cage is self made, no curse. A very sheltered boy/man not living in the real world. Only two options for kureno if he continues this path: he’ll hurt akito, or akito will hurt him. We know the answer from the trailer, don’t we?

Arisa letting go of kuron is growth! Let go & live, girl!

There is a subtle theme of learning to let go in furuba~

Yuki is the biggest kyoru shipper!

Tohru intentionally hitting kyo with scarf’s pon-pon is my fave side of her! intentional flirting shows change from her little girl’s good girl attitude to her own type of a feisty woman! after all, she’s nearly 18!

The way the camera moved when kyo spotted the scarf was so good!

The director is obsessed with flying!! did he work on attack on titans? cuz the Ren-akito flying fight reminded me of Titan Eren strangling Titan Annie in AOT se01 finale! but chibi version! XD. I’m sorry for akito’s pain, but I was distracted by laughing! XD

look, if you plan to dramatize a situation, know your budget & your skills. Obviously, the director knew the scene is badly done, hence, the wide far away, dim lit shot to hide as much as it can. Couldn’t he do without it? let akito strangle her to the ground without flying!

oh well~these over-the-top shots are now a furuba trade mark~ just praying they stick with one weird shot per season.

[buck-buck-boose]

I'll Love You 'Til I Die

Masterlist | Playlist

Summary: A Brooklyn schoolgirl fell in love with James Buchanan Barnes at the tender age of nine. With this love she made a vow, promising to love him until her very last breath.

Pairing: Bucky x OFC

Warnings: Language, mild violence

Word Count: 4.6k

Author's Note: Big things are happening y'all

Chapter Twenty-One: The Super Soldier

March 19, 1943

Dawn crept up on Camp Lehigh in a thick haze of fog, the chirp of crickets its only whispered greeting. A late-winter frost bloomed across what little grass remained, the majority having been trampled underfoot by platoon after platoon of soldiers. Winter was quickly fading, giving way to a promising spring, but the bitter chill still latched onto those dewy mornings to remind Camp Lehigh’s inhabitants of the cold season they’d just nearly escaped.

Although sessions of training were not due to begin for hours, warm bodies were stirred from slumber in their barracks, meeting the cold, stale air of their poorly-insulated lodgings. The nurse’s barracks was lit by a lamp's dim glow, which splayed a flush of golden light across the room. Five women quietly and nimbly dressed, none of them wishing to break the silence that balanced among them; the early morning was sacred to them, as it seemed to be the only time apart from nighttime in which one could be alone with one’s thoughts.

Lottie deftly pinned her mousy curls beneath her white cap, caring little for their arrangement or appearance. Once upon a time, she’d tamed her curls with gentle finger waves and carefully pinned back strands, desperate to look the part of a fair woman like Ginger Rogers. It was a quieter, more joyful time in which she had the time and desire to put ample effort into her appearance. How simpler life in Brooklyn seemed, in retrospect. She only had to care for Steve or Bucky’s wounds, usually from some street brawl instigated by Steve and ended by Bucky; now she had soldiers to care for. Soldiers who would one day be covered in great, gaping wounds, some so deeply ingrained within their souls that neither the highest of morphine dosages nor the strongest suture could soothe them.

Lottie made swift work of fastening her blue cape around her neck, situating it so that the inner red lining wasn’t peeking out. In her peripherals, Mary smoothed a hand down her white skirt in a weak attempt at combatting its wrinkles while Betty gave her face a once-over in a battered compact that she always seemed to have on her person. Lottie was downright envious of her ever-red lip and sultry gaze, they seemed to turn the heads of all the young privates on base, which earned them more than a few reprimands. It was only a few weeks ago that Betty had explained her reasoning for putting such effort into her physical charm, even in the middle of the war.

“Nurses are supposed to provide comfort, care, right?” She sat across from Lottie at their table in the mess hall, smoke curling from a freshly lit cigarette resting between her fingers. She puffed on the cigarette for a moment and slowly exhaled the smoke, “Well these boys have been stuck in a war for over a year now and they probably haven’t seen a pretty face in a while. They’re probably missing their sweethearts, fiancées, you name it. Either way, they’ve gotta be awful lonely out there, so what’s the harm in being that girl with the pretty face that can make them a little less lonesome?”

Before anyone could raise a question, she continued, “I’m not talking affairs or anything illicit, sometimes they just need a pretty face and a nice voice to remind ‘em of home, to ease that loneliness.”

Betty’s little sermon drew Lottie’s thoughts to Bucky. He was a fiercely loyal man who would stop at nothing to protect or care for his closest companions. For his own sake, Lottie hoped that he’d found a sort of comradery with his fellow soldiers, a bond to strengthen him while they were separated by an ocean. He’d always had a habit of flashing her his trademark grin and ruffling her hair, all while declaring something silly like “You ‘n Steve are all I need, Little Lottie. It’s always gonna be the three of us, ‘til the end of the line.” Lottie could only hope that Bucky had found a bond like theirs with his fellow soldiers as a source of comfort and a respite from loneliness.

“Lottie dear, Dr. Erskine’s waiting for us.”

It seemed that the other nurses had filtered out of the barracks as Lottie was lost in thought. Only Gladys remained, waiting for her expectantly at the doorway. Her strawberry blonde hair was pulled back in a tight bun, with her white cap nestled daintily atop her head, held in place with a handful of pins.

“Apologies, Gladys, I’m coming.” Gladys gave her a small smile as she caught up, nerves keeping her from forming her true toothy grin. All the nurses were nervous, to be truthful, as it was a significant day. Their serum was finally being put to use; they had found their first Super Soldier in Steve Rogers.

When Lottie had received the news of his selection to receive the serum, she’d nearly fainted with shock. Steve was a man with a heart of gold, she’d always known that, but it only served to heighten her self-doubt with regards to the serum’s efficacy. If the serum went awry as it did with Schmidt, Lottie wasn’t sure how she would be able to live with herself.

Dr. Erskine and Colonel Phillips’ debriefing as to why Steve had been chosen to become America’s first Super Soldier was a source of comfort, though. The two men had cornered the five nurses outside their barracks right as they were heading inside to turn in for the night.

The scientist had been the first to speak, “Ladies, we wanted to catch you as soon as possible. Colonel Phillips and I have decided upon our candidate for the serum. Private Steve Rogers will report to our facility in Brooklyn promptly at ten hundred hours tomorrow. We will need to depart camp at six hundred hours so we have abundant time to become accustomed to the equipment that will be in use. Mr. Stark will be joining us there.”

Lottie was sure there’d been spots in her vision, the announcement had nearly knocked all the wind out of her.

“I expect you ladies to uphold the same sense of secrecy and vigilance that you’ve had up until this point,” Colonel Phillips interjected, “This is only the beginning of our mission. We must continue to protect Project Rebirth, no matter how hopeless it may seem.” His voice was laced with bitterness, obviously doubtful of Steve’s abilities.

Nancy furrowed her brow, “Forgive me if I’m wrong, but isn’t Private Rogers the ninety-pound asthmatic? Why him and not someone more… reliable, like Private Hodge?”

Lottie bristled slightly, as she did not take kindly to critical remarks regarding her friends.

“Need I remind you that the serum is not focused only on the physical?” Dr. Erskine fixed Nancy with a level gaze, “He is not the most well-built soldier, I admit that. But as you have seen yourself, the serum is capable of incredible cellular change that will only strengthen him. It will also amplify the qualities that he already has inside of himself. He has proven himself to be a good soldier and a worthy recipient of the serum.” Lottie glanced at Colonel Phillips, whose face was twisted into an awkward grimace, though he did not comment.

“During training today, he exhibited qualities of strength and humility that I have yet to see in any other soldiers thus far. Would Private Hodge throw himself over a grenade to protect his fellow soldiers? He showed me today that he would not, but Private Rogers would.”

Colonel Phillips muttered something along the lines of, “Still skinny,” though the bitterness seemed to fade. All of the nurses came to accept the news, trading in their expressions of shock and concern for ones of uncertainty and anxiety. It seemed that reality had hit for all five of the nurses at once; their work had finally come to fruition, making the road ahead even more daunting than before.

There was little conversation in the nurse’s compartment on the train to Brooklyn. There were moments of brief chatter among the women, but they were all too lost in their thoughts to carry on a proper conversation. Lottie shifted in her seat every few minutes, the poorly-cushioned seat providing little comfort during the duration of the train ride. Beside her, Gladys flicked through a stack of paper, which she’d pulled out of a manila folder that had been stamped with the word “Confidential” in large red letters. Ever the levelheaded academic of the group, she’d decided to look over their notes on the serum and its activation procedure one last time.

Across from her, Mary and Nancy were busying themselves with embroidery, an activity that a few of the nurses had picked up to improve their abilities with stitching. Lottie pictured a frayed handkerchief in her mind’s eye, a tattered old thing covered in clumsy pink flowers with a “JBB” monogram stitched carefully onto its corner. She wondered if Bucky had taken it with him overseas. He’d always kept it on his person back in Brooklyn, “Never know when a dame’s gonna go all misty eyed on me,” he’d say, humor in his eyes. There wouldn’t be many women for him to comfort overseas, but maybe he’d need it for his tears someday.

Betty sat to the right of Gladys, scanning the pages of a battered copy of Gone With the Wind. She’d never struck Lottie as a bookworm, but more often than not, she was the last of the women to fall asleep at night, usually engrossed in a novel for an hour or two past lights-out.

Two hours passed uneventfully; its monotony was only interrupted by the transferring from one train to another. Lottie’s heart seemed to pound in her ears as they approached Brooklyn, the tall buildings in her window becoming more and more familiar to her. Her heart swelled at the sight of it; she hadn’t realized how much she’d missed the city until she returned after all that time. Of course, she’d been gone from the city for longer while she was in nursing school, but it tugged at her heartstrings even more than before because a damn war was what kept her from her beloved borough.

It wasn’t long before the train had arrived, initiating a flurry of movement out of the train car and toward a car that sat at the curb, waiting for them. All five nurses clambered inside, with Dr. Erskine following behind in his car. The car ride was a short one, though Lottie took the time to observe her surroundings; she wanted so desperately to drink in the familiar alleys and side streets before she had to return to Camp Lehigh, to war.

Their car stopped abruptly in front of a cozy antique shop; one she’d never paid much attention to. Dr. Erskine’s car had arrived just a few moments before theirs, so they followed him inside. Once inside, they were faced with an aged woman, who greeted them with a casual question, though her eyes betrayed a deeper glimmer of suspicion, “Wonderful weather this morning, isn't it?”

Dr. Erskine responded promptly, “Yes, but I always carry an umbrella.”

They were quickly led through a false bookcase, which hid a vast laboratory full of all that was needed to complete the transformation that would occur in a few hours. There were dozens of monitors and gauges, all for measuring Steve’s vitals and the Vita-Rays that were intended to activate the serum within his cells. In the center of it all, there was a bed on which Steve would lie, and when injected with the serum, the bed would be surrounded by a chamber while the Vita-Rays were projected into him.

Lottie and her peers stood at the top of the stairs, taking it all in, while Dr. Erskine descended the steps toward a control panel. He glanced back at them briefly, “Shall we all get accustomed to this now, ladies?”

Over the past few hours, Lottie had tired herself by calibrating various instruments, readying the equipment, and arranging several vials of serum within the transformation chamber. Throughout that time, doctors, higher-ranking soldiers, and members of the SSR slowly filtered into the room, some even gathering in the observation booth that looked down on them from above. She knew that Steve was due to arrive with Agent Carter at any moment. Frankly, she was terrified— mortified, even.

Howard Stark flitted about the laboratory, checking up on the various devices that would be used throughout the process. The Vita-Ray chamber was his brainchild, so a majority of his morning was spent double and triple-checking its minute parts and its stability.

At precisely 10 o’clock in the morning, Agent Carter and Steve stepped into the laboratory, two metal doors held open by guards for their entrance. Silence quickly descended upon the scientists and personnel who had been moving about the room in a sort of organized chaos. Lottie knew that most of them were looking at Steve in confusion, and in some cases dismay, but she made sure to send her best friend a reassuring smile. Even if the bullheaded scientists in the room were doubtful of his abilities, Lottie was with him. She believed in him. Her only doubts were in her abilities.

The staff quickly returned to their business as Agent Carter and Steve descended the steps and approached the center of the laboratory to meet with Dr. Erskine. They shared a brief greeting before Steve was ordered to remove his hat, tie, and shirt; Mary waited beside him with a kind smile, accepting his shed clothing. Agent Carter stood a few feet behind Steve, respectfully averting her gaze as he partially disrobed. Lottie took a special interest in their interactions, examining the way in which she treated Steve. She didn’t ignore or belittle him as some women did, she treated him with more dignity and respect. For that, Lottie was grateful.

Lottie busied herself with sterilizing several glass syringes as she impatiently awaited the initiation of the transformation. She could just barely make out a conversation that Dr. Erskine and Steve had shared about schnapps, but before she could quite figure out what was said, the scientist turned to the inventor beside him, “Mr. Stark, how are your levels?”

“Levels at one hundred percent. We may dim half the lights in Brooklyn, but we are ready as we’ll ever be.” Mr. Stark stood in front of the chamber where Steve now lay, projecting an air of confidence despite an uncomfortable look in his eye.

Agent Carter was dismissed to the booth to join Colonel Phillips, who was seated with several other seemingly important men that Lottie didn’t care to know. Dr. Erskine addressed the crowd in the booth using a microphone, explaining the purpose of Project Rebirth. Meanwhile, Lottie and her fellow nurses prepared the Vita-Ray chamber; she’d just situated the paddles on his chest when his gaze met hers. They’d been in a similar position so many times before. There were countless times over the past decade when she and Bucky had shown up at his apartment, soup and medicine in hand, to make him feel better during his latest bout of sickness. Bucky would always sit on one side of the bed, leaning on the mattress as he tried to distract Steve with idle conversation. She always kept vigil on the opposite side of the bed from Bucky, pulling Steve’s sheets up to his chin no matter how much he complained of the heat. She would never have to do that again, Lottie realized, as the serum would (hopefully) strengthen his immune system to the point that it would nearly be impossible to get sick. He wouldn’t need her or Bucky to look after him anymore. It pained her only slightly; she was overjoyed that he would be strengthened and healed by the serum, but it felt like the end of an era for her. She wasn’t truly needed anymore.

When the scientist’s speech to the booth had concluded, Lottie disinfected Steve’s shoulder and injected a syringe of penicillin into it; beforehand, she gave his shoulder a gentle squeeze, warning him for the pain of the jab. She felt him sigh in relief, “That wasn’t so bad.”

Lottie bit back a giggle while Dr. Erskine looked down at Steve with a furrowed brow, “That was penicillin.” The scientist gave her a look and without missing a beat, began the countdown.

Five

The doctors and scientists that were scattered around the laboratory rushed to their control panels, monitoring Steve’s vitals and the Vita-Ray levels that would soon be harnessed for the serum’s activation.

Four

Those that were observing from the booth looked at the scene below with bated breath; they either anticipated either a predictable failure or an unlikely success.

Three

The five nurses gathered around the Vita-Ray chamber, monitoring the serum infusion. Two mechanical arms latched onto Steve’s biceps and embedded several syringes deep into his muscle.

Two

Dr. Erskine placed a hand on Steve’s shoulder. Lottie met Steve’s gaze once more, she was that little girl at his bedside, sitting her vigil for one last time.

One

A switch was flipped and several syringes of the serum were injected into Steve’s system. Lottie could already see the strain it was putting on his body, his face contorted and he grunted in pain as he felt the serum begin its work in his body.

When given his signal, Mr. Stark flipped a lever to encase Steve in the Vita-Ray chamber, which maneuvered Steve into a vertical position before he was completely locked into the machine. Dr. Erskine knocked on the metal, “Steven? Can you hear me?”

A muffled response came from within the metal, “It’s probably too late to go to the bathroom, right?” Lottie snorted, only Steve would make a terrible joke at a time like that.

The scientist faced Mr. Stark, “We will proceed.” Below him, Mr. Stark slowly turned a dial and donned a pair of goggles. Lottie and her peers followed suit, as the luminosity of the Vita-Rays would cause vision damage if their eyes were left uncovered.

Lottie worried her lip as Mr. Stark slowly increased the radiation levels by turning a wheel that was mounted on the control panel. Next to him, a doctor carefully monitored Steve’s vitals; he reported that they were all normal, which calmed Lottie a tad.

At around the seventy percent mark, cries began to ring out from within the Vita-Ray chamber. It was as if screams were being torn from Steve’s throat, they were so hoarse and raw. Dr. Erskine rushed to the chamber while Peggy quickly descended from the booth, urging the personnel to cease the radiation. Lottie stood in shock, stuck in an internal impasse. She worried deeply for Steve’s safety, she always had and always would. Simultaneously, she needed to trust in the years’ worth of work she’d put into Project Rebirth. She and her fellow nurses had worked day after day, slaving over the Super Soldier Serum and Vita-Ray theories to develop the perfect transformation method. If she couldn’t trust her abilities and research, what could she trust?

But when Steve’s cries seemed to echo throughout the laboratory, she knew that his safety superseded whatever pride she had in her research. Lottie had just opened her mouth to call for an end to it when Steve insisted from within the Vita-Ray chamber, “Don’t! I can do this!”

A burst of warmth bloomed in Lottie’s chest; Steve trusted their work and he was fighting to see it through. Mr. Stark continued to raise the radiation levels until they had reached one hundred percent. The staff and observers from the booth could only look on in shock and wonder as the light from within the chamber continued to glow brighter and it began to give off a steady humming noise.

Without warning, sparks began to spray out from the control panels as a result of the copious amounts of electricity being funneled into the transformation. Lottie cried out, ducking down with Mary to avoid the sparks that showered down on them from overhead. Across from them, Nancy, Gladys, and Betty assumed similar positions, clutching their white caps as they attempted to shield themselves from the onslaught.

As quickly as it started, the sparks ceased, as did the humming of the Vita-Ray chamber. The laboratory was far dimmer than it was earlier, with the light from the radiation gone, and nearly half the bulbs in the laboratory having been blown out.

All eyes were on the Vita-Ray chamber as they all awaited the final result of Project Rebirth. The chamber hissed open and released a gust of air, revealing an exhausted-looking Steve.

Lottie could barely believe it, not only was he exhausted-looking, but it seemed as if he’d gained nearly 8 inches of height and a few dozen pounds of muscle. Gone was that scrawny blond boy who’d gotten lost in crowds far too easily, here was a man— a Super Soldier —who was perfectly enhanced on a cellular level.

The SSR agents and politicians who were previously gathered in the booth rushed to meet with Steve, barely able to contain their excitement. They clambered over each other, all of them desperate to be the first one to speak with America’s first Super Soldier.

In all the chaos, Betty had sidled up to her, her jaw nearly touching the floor, “Hot damn, Lottie Green. Hot damn.” She ogled at Steve as she took in his new physique. Lottie rolled her eyes, “Just because he’s got more muscle doesn’t mean he’ll be able to talk to you any better. Or that he won’t step on your toes if you get him to dance.”

Steve stood in the middle of a crowd of men, though Agent Carter stood in front of him, attempting to look at anything but his chest.

“I think you might want this, Stevie,” Lottie moved in to stand beside Agent Carter and offered him a shirt, which he accepted gratefully. He smiled down at her gratefully, murmuring a quiet, “Thank you, Lottie.”

How odd it was to be looking up at him. It was certainly something that Lottie wasn’t used to, she’d gotten quite used to looking down at him, in fact. By age sixteen, she’d gained about two inches on him, and though he was loath to admit it, she knew it pained him to be the shortest of the three of them. Luckily for him, his new height delegated her as the most diminutive of the Brooklyn trio by far.

Amid the jubilation following Project Rebirth’s success, grave mistakes were made. Gladys had left her manila folder of notes— all the notes that the nurses had ever taken during their research —on one of the control panels closest to the stairway, just close enough to the exit to be snatched up by a discreet hand. An extra vial of Super Soldier serum sat in its case, at the ready for its eventual use; it stood unguarded and unwatched.

The once-unassuming Fred Clemson hung back from the crowd, a lighter in hand. Dr. Erskine was the first to notice his position apart from everyone else; the scientist opened his mouth as if to say something, but before he could form a sentence, Clemson had flicked open the lighter and triggered an explosion from the observation booth.

Screams rang out from the middle of the laboratory as glass rained down on them. Sparks even worse than before began assaulting them and left stinging burns in their wake. Lottie grunted as she felt minuscule shards of glass tear at and become embedded in her skin; it would surely be a pain to treat such small cuts and remove the pieces of glass later on. It was shocking, really, how quickly the mood of the room had shifted. Just moments before, she’d been looking at Steve in awe, fully processing all that the serum had accomplished. Her sentiments of excitement and pride quickly evaporated, replaced by a growing sense of panic and dread.

The force of the explosion had thrown Lottie and some of the other nurses to the ground, so she scrambled to her feet in an attempt to take action against the man. It was all in vain, for as soon as she regained her footing, all she saw was the bespectacled man diving through the crowd to grab the last vial of Super Soldier serum and the thick manila envelope that Gladys had brought with her. Lottie’s stomach dropped in terror; she opened her mouth to cry out for backup, but Dr. Erskine was one step ahead of her. He commanded the man to stop, but the only response he received was several gunshots in the chest.

Deep red stains formed across the front of his shirt and seeped into his lab coat, his vibrant blood was a sickening contrast to the crisp white color of his lab coat. The scientist fell to the ground, his legs sprawled out before him and his arms at his side. Lottie knew that there was no hope for him— there were no exit wounds and she was more than certain that at least one of his lungs had been punctured. His breathing was labored, his chest heaving with every inhale and exhale. Lottie didn’t need to perform an examination to know that the wounds would be fatal. There was no time for an examination anyway, gunshots continued to ring out across the laboratory, and Agent Carter was in hot pursuit of the offender.

Mary looked at Lottie for some sort of reassurance of direction, her mouth agape, “Lottie, he's— he’s gonna die if we don’t do somethin’. C’mon, we’ve gotta help him.” Her voice came out in a whimper and her hands shook as she searched the floor for any fallen bandages. She took Mary’s trembling hands into her clammy ones, “Mary, look at his breathing. You know there’s nothing we can do for him now.”

She knew it was a heartbreaking thing to say, but Mary was a brilliant nurse; she already knew all the signs of a punctured lung. Lottie knew that she was having a hard time processing the information due to the shock that was no doubt obscuring her senses and rational thought. What Mary needed was a calm voice to guide her back from the brink of hysteria, a friend to bring her back to reality.

The nurses learned a jarring lesson about reality’s harsh nature that day; they learned of its cycle of gains and losses, successes and failures. The five nurses of Project Rebirth had achieved all that they’d been dreaming of for more than a year, they’d proven themselves to be reliable and even stellar researchers in their field. It had all been ripped away from them in a matter of moments, with the loss of their notes and serum, as well as the brutal death of Dr. Erskine. All they could do was clutch each other helplessly as they watched Steve follow the man in hot pursuit— the man who had stolen everything from them. Lottie, Mary, Betty, Nancy, and Gladys had certainly entered a new era in their careers as nurses, an era of uncertainty. With nothing left from Project Rebirth besides the Super Soldier himself, their futures were left in limbo until the Strategic Scientific Reserve could figure out what to do with them next.

[shimmersing]

Constellation

Part One | Part Two | Interlude | Part Three

Rating: General Audiences Archive Warning: No Archive Warnings Apply Categories: F/M, Gen Relationships: Female Jedi Consular | Barsen'thor/Male Republic Trooper, Jedi Consular | Barsen'thor/Republic Trooper Characters: Female Jedi Consular | Barsen'thor, Jedi Consular | Barsen'thor, Qyzen Fess, Yuon Par, Parkanas Tark-Lord Vivicar Additional Tags: Angst, Tython, Emotional, Mentioned Mutual Pining, Fluffy, Sad, Melancholy Returning to Tython after shielding the last master suffering from Vivicar’s Force plague, Aitahea is faced with more struggle in her efforts to heal the Order and keep the Force in balance. Tired, injured, and longing for someone she can’t have, perhaps ever, the lines of her responsibility as a Jedi and her own convictions begin to blur. As Aitahea nears the end of her quest to save Yuon Par and the other Jedi Masters, she’s confronted with painful revelations and answers that only give rise to more questions. Shouldering the lives and minds of Jedi across the galaxy – alone – may prove to be more than Aitahea can bear.

Part Two

“Thank you for coming. I have made all the preparations for the ritual to find Lord Vivicar.”

Yuon turned to greet Aitahea with a rueful smile. “I plan to create a connection between us, using your shielding ability. If it is - was - Parkanas, this should work. Drawing on your strength, I will invert the link between myself and Vivicar and use it to sense his location.”

Aitahea didn’t know the details of what Parkanas might have experienced, nor did she wish to know. She did understand that as a result of what had occurred on Malachor Three, Yuon Par and Duras Fain were the parents of Laranna Fain. All of the Masters involved had abandoned Parkanas, whom they should have protected, she realized in dismay. That’s what the Jedi were, protectors, defending the innocent and championing justice, weren’t they? What did it mean, truly, that Yuon had called Parkanas weak?

“Don’t expose yourself to Lord Vivicar’s influence any longer than you must, Yuon.” Aitahea found herself whispering a plea. “Please.”

If this failed, it would cost lives, Yuon’s and Aitahea’s surely among them. In the quiet moments after her crying had passed, she’d discovered a calm remnant of strength, her private conviction that being a Jedi meant protecting everyone she possibly could.

Focusing on these newborn doubts would not benefit anyone. Her trust felt shaken, but Yuon had never brought her to harm before.

“I won’t. For your sake, as well as mine.” Yuon sighed, resignation in the drop of her shoulders. “There are risks. For one, the shielding you gave me on Coruscant will be severed.”

Aitahea flinched. The shielding had become a comfort, perhaps not so unlike the Force bond that some Masters and apprentices formed through training. But as a shield and not a true bond, it was more akin to a signal she could check at will, adjust, improve, and repair as necessary. Aitahea thought of both Yuon and herself as fiercely individual in certain ways, and she’d never truly considered the implications. It had simply been so crucial, so necessary.

“I don’t know what will happen then,” Yuon continued, looking focused and prepared again. “It’s possible I could die once your shield is gone.”

“I’ll protect you, Master.”

“With your strength to sustain me, we will do what we can.” Yuon forced another smile, little more than a grimace. “No matter what happens, you must give me as much time as possible. Reversing the link may be a long process.” She knelt on the carpeted floor. Aitahea followed suit, while Qyzen stepped back to lean watchfully against a pillar.

“Let us begin.”

The Force wrapped her, whole and complete, and Aitahea suddenly recalled a childhood visit to an artificial sea on Coruscant. She’d been young; the memory was little more than a hazy sensation of warm, buoyant safety. Yuon’s presence across from her smoldered like the banked embers of a fire, steady and glowing.

Sinking further into the lull of meditation, Aitahea found herself adrift in the numinous experience of the Force. On Tython, with her own Master, under the watchful eyes of the Council, Qyzen’s comforting presence near them, in the safest place in the universe. All was as it should be. For a moment, she rested calmly in the knowledge that she had everything she needed.

Then Yuon’s gentle warmth grew abruptly fierce. An unnamable distress gripped Aitahea; the profound embrace of the Force around her shuddered. An unnamable something snapped, and Aitahea gasped aloud at the acute absence of her carefully constructed shielding. Her eyes flew open to see Yuon swaying.

“Yes, yes – it’s working. I can feel his mind and… uhhh… I can feel—I…” Yuon’s words trailed off, reeling listlessly for a horrible moment. Just as Aitahea was about to call her name, Yuon’s eyes opened.

Only they were not Yuon Par’s eyes. With horrible, sickening recognition, Aitahea felt the tendrils of darkness that she’d battled for almost a year once again entangling her beloved Master. When Yuon opened her mouth, it was not her voice that spoke.

"She can feel the power that she’s challenging." Yuon slowly stood, motions mechanical. “There is no hope.” Aitahea reeled back in alarm, and Qyzen hissed a sibilant curse. Vivicar laughed, examining Yuon’s body as though it were a costume he wore.

“Yuon has drained your strength and made herself vulnerable to me. Still arrogant and reckless.” Turning back to Aitahea, Yuon’s head tilted in a horrible parody of affection, her Master’s face a rictus of agonized delight. But it was Vivicar’s voice that uttered her name.

“Aitahea.” She shuddered but held her ground. “You don’t look as strong as you did last time we spoke.”

Inhaling slowly, Aitahea raised her eyes to meet the horrible, mindless stare in her Master’s face, thoughts racing to find a response. “I know your name,” she exhaled in a shaky whisper. Vivicar twitched Yuon’ lips into a smirk but offered no reply. Aitahea continued, voice trembling. “You were once Parkanas Tark, a brave Jedi. You could be that man again.”

“The past means nothing,” Vivicar growled, waving a hand. “All that matters is the future, which doesn’t involve you, Aitahea.”

She clenched her jaw at his mockingly familiar use of her name, restraining a distraught scream of please stop. It would only fuel him further.

“See how Yuon’s will crumbles before mine.” Vivicar threw Yuon’s head back with a laugh, casually plucking her lightsaber from her side. Aitahea felt frozen; she could not bear fighting Yuon again, not after Coruscant. But when Vivicar ignited the blade, the usual lively green replaced by unthinkable red, she stumbled back in incomprehensible terror. Every cell of her being shrieked at her to flee. Yuon’s careworn face sneered down at her with unrecognizable hate. “Fitting, that two of my enemies will destroy each other.”

Stunned into a blank, silent moment by the abject horror of her present, Aitahea observed her own motions as if they were saber stances, performed by an initiate in practice. Lightsaber hilt to hand. Ignite. Ready position. Block, but if the blade isn’t fully —

Aitahea was shocked to find herself pinned brutally against the back wall, the ruby blade just inches from her skin. Qyzen was already aiming, but Vivicar flung out Yuon’s hand and threw him to the opposite corner. Aitahea took that moment of barest distraction to send Vivicar himself flying, then climbed unsteadily to her feet and placed herself between Vivicar and Qyzen.

Vivicar drew Yuon’s body up, limbs dangling as though they were on strings, a youngling’s broken toy. Qyzen pushed to his feet again, growling a string of curses behind Aitahea, who hesitated at the sight of Yuon’s lolling head and drooping eyelids.

At serious risk of toppling over, Yuon bent unnaturally and picked up the saber that had tumbled from her hand. Aitahea could sense that Yuon had been knocked unconscious by her reckless, panicked Force push, but Vivicar still drove her lifeless body forward.

“Parkanas Tark, Yuon Par was your friend!” Aitahea dodged a clumsy thrust. “Did she never once show you kindness, that you can do this to her? Release her! Parkanas, please!”

Aitahea blocked a second inept strike, and for a moment, Yuon’s eyes cleared, her voice was her own. “Aitahea!”

Vivicar stumbled back, clutching at Yuon’s head and keening pitifully. Yuon’s saber hilt clattered to the floor again. Aitahea reached for it, only for anguish to pierce through all her shields, white-hot agony suffusing her. Distantly, well beyond her own tormented scream, Aitahea somehow heard Vivicar’s wail become Yuon’s voice again.

“It… It worked!” Yuon cried, her own eyes peering out from her spent, elated face again. “Listen, Lord Vivicar… he’s out in deep space, on some sort of vessel… the coordinates!” Her hands reached out, beckoning.

Aitahea, panting in the wake of the assault, looked around for the datapad they’d had nearby, hoping that it hadn’t been damaged in the struggle. A cluster of Jedi had crowded into the doorway, alerted by the unusual commotion. Aitahea found and handed the datapad to Yuon, who began softly muttering as she searched the galactic map.

“He’s surrounded himself with defenses. Send this. It’s his code. It will give you… time to get aboard.”

Yuon pressed the datapad back into Aitahea’s hands, then sank to her knees again, clutching at her head. “No—the darkness… Vivicar’s will is too strong!”

Over one shoulder, Aitahea addressed anyone who was listening, fighting an overwhelming fatigue. “Fetch the Council and a medic immediately!”

“Yes, Master!” came a chorused reply as several youthful volunteers scattered. A few others began to clear the hallway in a spurt of practicality.

“I can’t hold on! Please, kill me!” Yuon threw her head back, arching her spine, a strangled moan tearing itself from her throat. “End it now!”

“No, Yuon. You’re safe now,” Aitahea soothed, Qyzen thankfully at her side again. He lifted the datapad from Aitahea’s hands so she could pull Yuon into her arms, willing the shattered shielding back in place.

Excruciating moments passed, punctuated with agony that Aitahea couldn’t identify as hers or Yuon’s or a lingering effect of the ritual. It was tedious and exhausting, like the time she’d attempted to paste back together a statuette of Master Gnost-Dural that a youngling under her care had broken. Pieces had been missing, and she’d been unable to fully complete the repair. Now, she filled in cracks and breaks with what felt like pieces of her soul.

Finally, the shielding began functioning. She could feel every straining fissure.

Yuon groaned, shook her head, and pulled herself from Aitahea’s tenuous grasp. “The darkness… it’s gone.” Yuon passed a hand over her face, blinking as though she’d woken from a long slumber.

“I’m glad, Yuon,” Aitahea murmured, swaying. Yuon started, suddenly recognizing her former student’s distress. She grasped Aitahea’s shoulders, steadying the other woman.

“You—you look exhausted.” Guilt flickered over Yuon’s face like a shadow. “Aitahea… You have sacrificed so much for me.”

Aitahea offered a doleful half-smile, struggling to keep her eyes open. “The Jedi way is to serve. Vivicar should no longer be able to influence you, Master,” she assured Yuon.

Several Padawans rushed into the room and began fussing over Yuon, her keepers that Master Satele had mentioned during their first meeting, she assumed. Qyzen leaned down and offered a scaly arm to support Aitahea as she struggled to her feet.

“Your shielding has driven him from my mind,” Yuon said. Brushing off the exasperated Padawans, she caught Aitahea’s other hand between her own. “Thank you.”

Palm to palm, Aitahea sensed the delicate strength of her shield, already showing signs of deterioration. “Of course, Master.”

The Padawans rushed in as soon as Yuon released Aitahea’s hand. “I—I must rest.” She blinked, and two of the Padawans took her arms, making soothing sounds. “Master Syo and the Council. They must hear of what we’ve learned.”

“Herald needs treatment for injuries,” Qyzen added as Yuon was pulled away.

Aitahea felt utterly wretched yet single-mindedly determined to end the plague as swiftly as possible. They knew where Vivicar was hiding. They could end it all in just hours.

“The Council first, Qyzen.” Aitahea lifted her hand experimentally off Qyzen’s steadying arm, feeling the lump in her throat tighten when her legs quivered. She took a breath, then a step, and finally waved for Qyzen to follow. With a shake of his head, Qyzen acquiesced, staying a step behind her.

By the time they’d reached the Council chamber, Aitahea had reached deeply into the Force to dampen the pain of her injuries and the fatigue of conflict. It didn’t eliminate her agony, but it allowed her to focus long enough to deliver her debrief to the Council.

“The ritual was a success,” she began. “Lord Vivicar is out in uncharted space in a hijacked vessel, the Progress. He knows I’m coming.”

“Now only your shielding ability can stop him,” Master Satele said, the other Masters nodding their consensus.

“You’ve shown great fortitude and once again saved Master Yuon, despite the odds.” Master Syo leaned forward in his chair. “But Lord Vivicar will have made preparations, and he still has his greatest weapon—the plague itself.”

Aitahea took a tremulous breath. “I believe I can save him, Master Syo. Now that I know who he really is, I could return Vivicar—Parkanas, that is—I could return him to the light.”

Syo shook his head. “A noble thought, Aitahea, but don’t take unnecessary risks. Your shielding ability is our only hope.”

Master Jaric finally spoke. “Jedi, you’re exhausted. You need medical treatment and rest.” Qyzen grunted beside her in rare agreement with Master Jaric.

“There’s no time to waste, Master. We must move now, before Vivicar strikes back,” Aitahea argued. “I can recover en-route; I have a very capable crew waiting.”

Syo glanced at Satele, then gave Aitahea an reluctant nod. “Go to the coordinates quickly. And, Aitahea—may the Force be with you.”

Aitahea accepted the dismissal with a shaky bow, unable to trust her voice, and left the Council chamber. Qyzen followed, arm steady as he offered it to her again.

“Herald cannot—”

“Qyzen, we must,” Aitahea interrupted. “I’ll rest on the Luminous, Sia will manage the flight, and Tharan and Holiday can offer some assistance, I’m sure.” Qyzen hummed a skeptical agreement but said nothing.

They limped to the shuttle pad. Aitahea idly hoped there wasn’t a trail marking their path after she noticed the oozing wound at her hairline. No wonder the Council had looked so concerned; she probably looked a fright. With the coordinates already sent to Prelsiava onboard the Luminous, they could leave as soon as they were onboard. Then she would rest.

Qyzen mindfully guided Aitahea to a seat on the shuttle. She spent a few moments in unsteady healing efforts, but her grasp of the Force felt tenuous now, soaring thousands of meters above the sacred ground of Tython. Finally, Aitahea shambled on leaden feet through the orbital station to the Luminous, ready and waiting.

See-Too made a little stuttering gasp of alarm when he saw Aitahea climbing the stairs to the main deck and tottered over to fret as they ascended the stairs; Qyzen had kept her upright through the orbital station, but Aitahea’s fragile strength was nearly spent. “Master Jedi, we must get you to the med bay at once!”

“Kriffing hell, Ai.” Sia pushed past the droid, slinging Aitahea’s arm over her shoulders. “What happened to you?” she asked, dragging the barely-conscious Jedi to the med bay. Between them, Qyzen and Sia got her onto the observation bunk while See-Too went in search of Tharan.

Aitahea roused, seizing Sia’s sleeve. “Are we leaving?” she whispered, eyes briefly opening to squint blearily at the pilot.

“Got underway as soon as you closed the hatch.”

Aitahea sighed deeply, the faintest smile on her lips as she closed her eyes again. “How long?”

“Six hours or so, if I got the calculations right, and I always do. You’ve got to rest. I’ll get Tharan and Holiday in here to patch you up at least, bandage that head wound. Don’t give me that line you always do about self-healing.” She folded her arms, disapproval in her narrowed eyes. “You’re starting to scare me, Aitahea. Very little in the galaxy scares me; you know that. When does this end?”

“Soon,” Aitahea murmured. Sia sighed but didn’t press her further.

“You’d have been better off staying on Tython where they have a full medical suite, you know,” Tharan mentioned casually when he walked in, Holiday on his heels. He scanned a few labels before selecting a medical stim and a sedative from their supply. “Fortunately, See-Too has done exceptionally well keeping our stock current. You’ll recover quickly.” He unceremoniously injected Aitahea with the drugs, efficiently bandaged her obvious wounds, and then ushered everyone briskly from the med bay. Aitahea was asleep before they left.

Her wrist comm beeped; a call was coming through. Aitahea stirred but drifted back into stillness once the alert ceased to sound. A few moments later, the missed contact’s ID popped unseen onto the display:

Lieutenant Erithon Zale.

Constellation: Part One | Part Two | Interlude | Part Three

[unknownwriting]

Ruin Our Friendship

[Part 1]

Summary: Poor Ace has fallen head over heels for his best friend but he's scared that he'll ruin their friendship if he tells her. (pt. 2) 

Characters: Portgas D. Ace

Song Inspiration: Jenny by Studio Killers

Work count: 4.2k (I was not expecting it to be this long)

Notes: Part 2 of the one shot, hehe it’s a little longer than the first i hoped y’all like it. Sorry it took so long I was not expect 2 book reports and 2 essays to be assigned 🤬🔫 

━━☆⌒*.

“...Ace, if I go on one....more rollercoaster, I think Imma...puke.” (Y/n) groaned as she stumbled over to a bench. Ace watched her, her hair a mess and her face flush from the excitement. For the whole mess she looked like, Ace found it so cute. He let out a loud laugh, taking a seat right next to her.

“Giving up so soon? I thought you’d have more in you.” Ace teased. (Y/n) shot a glare over at him but she couldn’t help but let a smile brush across her lips.

“Oi, shut up! I’m not built like a monster like you. And plus-“ (Y/n) leaned back on the bench as her stomach let out a low growl. She let out a soft whimper and placed a hand on her stomach before looking back at Ace, “-plus. I’m hungry. I wanna eat something.”

“I saw a hot dog stand just around the corner. Let’s stop there.” Ace laughed, standing back up. (Y/n) watched him for a moment, trying to calm herself down at but from the rollercoaster they just went on. It had to be their 4th rollercoaster in a row, she was just surprised with how casual Ace still seems to be acting. With a small scoff from her lips, she jumped up and intertwined their fingers once again.

“A hot dog doesn’t sound too bad.” She smiled leading the 2 of them to the food stand. Ace smiled down at her while the 2 of them walked hand in hand through the crowded park. Today was possibly the best day ever in Ace’s eyes, nothing could ruin today. The weather was perfect: not a cloud in the sky nor a chilly breeze. The park was amazing: not too many people nor long lines. And of course the best part of all: that fact that he’s going on a date with his best friend. Nothing could be better than this. After Ace got over his shyness and awkwardness, everything began to flow smoothly. The conversations came naturally and there seemed to be no conflict between the 2 when it came to activities. It was almost like the 2 were hanging out as friends but with all the hand-holding and the way Ace’s heart still raced in his chest, it made him remember it was a date. It also made him realize just how hard he has fallen for her.

“After this let’s go play some games.” (Y/n) had exclaimed as she squeezed his hand to get his attention. Glancing down at her, Ace followed her pointing her finger over at a row of games, “I wanna win a really big bear.”

“No more rides?”

“Ace if I go on another ride I will puke all over you,” (Y/n) said in a dumbfounded tone as she looked up at her date. Still hand and hand they made their way to an empty table. As (Y/n) took a seat pointed over to the stand and smiled, “Now Ace, go get me a hot dog!”

“Huh? You can’t get it?”

“Nope, it’s the man's job to buy their date a hot dog. It’s the first rule of dating.” (Y/n) exclaimed. Ace's face flushed red before he made his way over to the stand to order. Once Ace got them both a meal he went back to (Y/n) and let out a scoff as he saw (Y/n)'s eyes light up at the sight of food.

“I don’t think I’d ever been this excited to eat a hot dog.”

“So you really didn’t eat before coming here?”

“Of course not. Knowing you, you’d wanna go on a lot of rides so I tried not to eat anything that would upset me.” (Y/n) explained as she took a bit out of her food and hummed happily. Ace froze for a moment as he watched her eat. It was always the little things that made Ace fall for her. Even if she did it for herself, the fact that she thought of him was enough to make his heart explode. With the rush of shivers that ran through his body, he opened his mouth to speak but he caught his breath before he could say anything. He had a plan, well more like Macro and Thatch had a plan, for how Ace would confess. The 2 of you would spend the day together riding rides, playing games, eating junk food, and taking pictures, silly and cute ones. Basically, stuff the 2 of them would normally do together, and then at the end of the day is when Ace would confess. The park plans a huge firework show once every few months, so what would be a better place to confess than a huge firework show. The plan was simple and flawless, the only problem is waiting to see if it goes that way. He felt confident though, the date has been going smoothly so far. He hasn’t seen anyone who knew them or hasn’t run into any problems, with (Y/n) or anyone else. It was going well, nothing seemed to be getting in the way...

But of course, he spoke too soon. As the 2 of them finished their meal and began to ball up their trash, a loud voice called out to them. (Y/n) was the first to perk up and turn around to search. Ace immediately cringed as he recognized the voice. He’s totally jinxed their date.

“Ace, (Y/n) !!”

“Oh! Luffy, Sabo! I didn’t expect you 2 to be here.” (Y/n) called out as she waved back to the 2 approaching boys. Luffy and Sabo were quick to make their way over to Ace and (Y/n)'s side. As soon as Luffy took a spot next to (Y/n) and Sabo took a spot next to Ace, Luffy and (Y/n) already began to laugh.

“Pfftt...Lu-chan what are you even wearing? That headband seems very-“

“Shishishi, isn’t cool!! I beat Sabo and won it.” Luffy cheered as he smiled brightly at (Y/n) and place a hand on the strange hat he won. Now that he mentions it, (Y/n) does remember seeing those hats at the front. It would be a lie to say that winning one of those didn’t cross her mind, but she figured that she would force Ace to win her on one the way out like a boyfriend should do.

“Luffy beat you? Lu-chan must’ve been going easy on you.” (Y/n) teased as her eyes glazed over to the older blonde. Sabo tensed up and shook his head, trying to hide his embarrassment.

“It was dumb luck. I was winning but he came in and won instead. My hand simply slipped.” Sabo explained to cover up his embarrassment. (Y/n) scoffed as she raised an eyebrow at Sabo, who stared down at her. He knew (Y/n) was gonna say something, she always says some type of remark. Just like Ace, Sabo also met (Y/n) in one of his classes. They easily got along and it wasn’t until later on did (Y/n) learn that he was Ace’s brother. That was probably the moment Ace realized he fell. To him, family is extremely important to him and of course, his lover must like his family. So when Ace learned about how well she got along with Sabo, he knew he fell. Ace watched too, wondering if (Y/n) was gonna say anything and she was because she opened her mouth but was quickly cut off by Luffy again. He grabbed her attention and began to talk about who knows what. Sabo seemed to be interested in the conversation but he was pulled away when Ace spoke up. Ace still found it hard to believe, out of all the days, why did Sabo and Luffy have to come today. Out of all the days, why today? It was no lie that it made him frustrated. This day was just supposed to be him and (Y/n) and now Sabo and Luffy showed up. He’s not stupid either, he knows what going to happen next now that they ran into the 2, and it made him upset but he knows that the 2 of them mean no harm, it was simply just a coincidence.

“What are you 2 doing here?” Ace asked, trying his best to not sound upset, although it wasn’t really working. Sabo was quick to catch onto the tone in his voice but for the sake of Luffy and (Y/n) in front of them, he decided not to call him out on it.

“Nothing much.” Sabo shrugged, “I had a day off and Luffy wanted to come. Although we didn’t know you’d be here today, especially with (Y/n). I thought you were busy?”

“...I am.” Ace hesitated as he looked over at (Y/n) who continued to laugh with Luffy about something. The way her whole body would jiggle when she laughed, and the way she would put a hand on the other person’s arm, and the way her laugh echoed through the area, it was all things Ace knew all too well. No matter how many times he looks at her, he just keeps finding more reasons to fall in love. Sabo followed his gaze and looked at (Y/n) before looking back at Ace and the blush that not so subtly covered his cheeks. He’s had his speculation about Ace’s crush on (Y/n) for a while now, and seeing how he can finally connect the pieces, he understood why Ace was busy and it didn’t help that Luffy and he interrupted it.

“Oh.” Sabo hummed as he shifted in his seat grabbing Luffy and (Y/n)'s attention. It was Sabo’s and Luffy’s cue to finally leave Ace and (Y/n) alone to enjoy the rest of their date. It would be a lie to say that he wanted to leave, in all honesty, he wanted to watch Ace go on this date. It’s been so long since Ace has found someone that actually gave him butterflies in his stomach but Sabo respected Ace’s wish. The one he really had to worry about was Luffy, he’s definitely one to not read between the lines, thus this is where Sabo comes in, “Luffy, come on let's go. We should leave Ace and (Y-”

“No!! I still wanna go on some rides with her!” Luffy exclaimed as he jumped up out of his seat and grabbed (Y/n)'s hand. She yelps from the sudden force, causing Ace and Sabo to jump up alongside her to make sure she doesn’t fall. Although she didn’t have time to fall as she was quickly dragged behind Luffy as he pulled her to the next ride he wanted to do. (Y/n) looked back at the others with a worried yet apologetic look as she tried her best to regain her balance. She felt really bad leaving the Ace behind, it was just supposed to be him and her the whole day yet Luffy and Sabo just happened to appear. Even though they did appear, (Y/n) was just going to make a short conversation with them and move on. She was sure Ace had the same idea, but she should’ve known that Luffy was bound to do something. All (Y/n) could do now I hope that Luffy doesn’t stay long.

ミ☆

After a long day of being pulled around the park with a very energetic Luffy and going on almost all the rides, (Y/n) was ready to puke. Not only was she ready to puke she’s also ready to go back to Ace and hopefully end the day together, at least. Throughout the day, (Y/n) barely had any time with Ace because of Luffy. Ace and Sabo tried their best to try and keep up with the 2 but as soon as Ace and Sabo arrived at the ride Luffy had already dragged (Y/n) on it or to a different ride. So much for Ace and (Y/n)'s date, it might as well have been Luffy and (Y/n)'s date. However, Luffy finally began to crash near the end, letting Ace and Sabo finally catch up to the 2. At the moment, Luffy and (Y/n) sat at the front of the park talking about each of their favorite rides while Ace and Sabo made their way to them. Now don’t get her wrong, (Y/n) enjoyed the day with Luffy but she still felt really bad about leaving Ace behind. It was supposed to be their first date today yet they hardly spent any time together.

“I liked the roller coaster that spun around while we rode it. That one was probably my favorite. " (Y/n) explained as she recalled that ride. She made Luffy ride it at least 3 times.

“Shishishi. We rode it at least 3 times, you really did like it.”

“Of course, it was a lot better than those rides you made me ride with all the twists and turns. I’m surprised I last as long as I did, I was about to puke. You're worse than Ace.” (Y/n) exclaimed as she leaned back into the bench, she was happy to sit somewhere that didn’t move. All Luffy did was laugh. It was around sunset, the skies painted hues of pinks and purple with the moon threatening to take over the sky. To (Y/n), there was nothing special that’s going to happen now. She doesn’t know that there’s going to be a firework show tonight, so as far as she knows is that the 2 of them are waiting for Ace and Sabo to arrive so they can go home. Because she already spent most of the day with Luffy, she might as well go home with them and try to make up for the time she didn’t spend with Ace.

“Jeez, we finally caught up with you 2.” Sabo’s voice called out, as he and Ace approached the 2. Both Luffy and (Y/n) perked up when they heard his voice and as soon as (Y/n)'s eyes landed on Ace, she jumped up from her seat and joined him at his side.

“Ace! Your finally back.” (Y/n) cheered while she easily and quickly slipped her hand into his, sending chills down each of their spines. The blush that was missing from Ace’s face had now reappeared as he looked down at his supposed to be date. Sabo scoffed at the 2 of them and looked back down at Luffy.

“You didn’t drag (Y/n) on every ride, did you?”

“Shishishi, nope...” Luffy shook his head, letting Sabo release a relieved sigh but he was quick to suck it back in when Luffy spoke up again, “Some rides were closed and had too long of a line.”

“Thank god for those. Luffy was trying to kill me. We went on like ever ride.” (Y/n) sighed, looking over at Sabo before looking back up at Ace again, “And I can’t believe I thought you were bad. Luffy made me go on every ride without a break.”

“I almost feel bad for you but I told you how much of a handful he was.” Ace laughed. It was nice to finally see her again after a long day of having to chase after her.

“Almost?! Aww, Ace you're so mean.” (Y/n) playfully pouted. Sabo scoffed again as Luffy stood up and join him by his side. Sabo finally felt at ease, Ace was finally able to go back to the date he and (Y/n) were supposed to go on, even if it can only last for one more hour.

“Well seeing how you were supposed to come here with Ace only. I’ll take Luffy and leave the 2 of you alone.” Sabo quickly noticed the relieved look on (Y/n)'s face and could guess for 2 reasons why: One so she can actually enjoy her date with Ace and two, so she can get a break from Luffy. Luffy laughed once again and waved bye to Ace and (Y/n), they finally took off leaving the 2 alone after an extremely long day. As if in sync, Ace and (Y/n) both let out a sigh and looked at each other, and laughed. It was no lie that the 2 of them were finally happy to be alone with each other again, give or take the crowd around them.

“Well, I can proudly say I officially met the whole ASL trio.” (Y/n) chuckled as the 2 of them began to walk hand and hand to the lake that sat in the middle of the park.

“Heh, I did tell you Luffy was a handful. Although I probably wouldn’t make the 2 of you get to know each other at an amusement park.” Ace added, smiling down at (Y/n), “I bet you're pretty tired.”

“Ugh, Ace, that’s an understatement. I feel like I can sleep for days.” (Y/n) said as the 2 of them approached the lake. Ace scoffed at her comment, but then fell silent. All he did was looked down at (Y/n) who began to kick pieces of popcorn on the floor into the lake for the ducks to eat. He really wanted this day to be perfect yet Luffy seemed to come and interrupted that. It was so not how they thought the day would go. The 2 of them had hardly spent any time together, Ace just spent the day talking to Sabo about (Y/n) and tell him every reason why he fell in love. At least he was lucky enough to be with (Y/n) right before the fireworks and if all goes well this time, right before the fireworks Ace should confess his feelings.

“Sorry that Sabo and Luffy showed up. I didn’t know they were gonna be coming today.” Ace started drawing (Y/n)'s attention up to him. She took a moment to look up at him even if its dark outside, (Y/n) could still see the cute freckles that covered his face. Before any moment longer; not wanting to make Ace feel uncomfortable and shrugged her shoulders and smiled,

“Yeah, It was unexpected but I-”

“They ruined our dated.” Ace cut off (Y/n) as he hung his head low in guilt and frustration. It was already hard enough to figure out his feelings for her and now it’s just as hard to just ask her out. (Y/n) could completely understand how he feels, she was also so looking forward to his date but even if it was interrupted by Luffy and Sabo it still considered a date, just not a perfect one.

“They didn’t ruin anything.” (Y/n) scoffed, squeezing Ace’s hand pulling his attention over to her.

“It was supposed to be a date. With just me and you and yet-”

“-and yet, your brothers tagged along. There nothing wrong with that. We still rode some rides together, took pictures together, ate together, and did other couple-y stuff together. Your brothers just happened to be here.” (Y/n) explained as she recalled all the times the 4 of them did meet up with each other. Ace’s face seemed to soften a bit after hearing her explanation, “And plus, I don’t know about you but I think I'm finally ready to be apart of your crazy family. After the hell your brother put me through I better be apart of the family.”

That’s when Ace froze. He didn’t know what to do or what to even say. All he could do was repeat her, “...Apart of my.. family??”

“Well of course,” (Y/n) gave a firm nodded as she looked up into Ace’s eyes. As he stared right back down at her, he noticed there was a look of determination in them. It almost reminded him of the determination he had of making this date perfect, but that had to just be wishful thinking. (Y/n) couldn’t possibly know the plan behind the date. Seems like he was wrong, “All that’s left to do is confess to me, right? So whenever your ready Ace, I’ll give you my answer.”

“You...know? How’d you know??” Ace began to panic now. The plan was supposed to be kept secret and yet she seems to know all about it. He knows for a fact that Marco and Thatch didn’t tell her, they hardly even know her and as far as he knows, she was pretty good at keeping his feelings to himself, so how does (Y/n) know. She giggled as she inched closer to Ace, slowly closing the gap between them. Ace didn’t even notice, he was panicking too much.

“Ya’know Luffy doesn’t have a quiet mouth. Soooo, he ended up telling me. Well, he told me something along the lines. I figured out the rest.” (Y/n) smiled.

“Luffy told you?? God, he so stupid. How does he even know, I don’t remember even telling him anything about it. I’m mean I think I brought it up with Sabo but the only people who knew about it was-” Ace began to ramble on as the heat of embarrassment rushed through his body. He, no doubt, felt embarrassed. Luffy practically told (Y/n) that Ace like her. One more thing that Luffy did to ruin the day. Ace would’ve probably rambled on for a while too, not that (Y/n) didn’t minded. It was cute seeing Ace freak out and see the blush that covered his freckled cheeks, but if (Y/n) didn’t shut him up they would’ve gone nowhere. So while she wanted Ace to be the one to confess, it looks like (Y/n)'s just gonna have to step up for this one. (Y/n) doesn’t know what came over her when she thought of this idea but she has seen it happen in a lot of romcoms so why not try it in real life. Standing up on her tippy-toes, she closed the gap in-between them and connect their lips. Ace definitely froze now. This date is not going how he planned at all. The one he asked out is the one kissing him now.

(Y/n) had only planned to kiss Ace quickly and sweetly; a small peck on the lips to shut him up but things didn’t end up going that way Unknowingly to (Y/n) the fireworks began to go off right in the middle of their kiss. Gasping, her mouth slightly opened for just a moment and Ace was quick to take advantage of that. There wasn’t a lot he could control about this date but he knows that he can easily take control of this kiss. Now he’s taking full advantage of (Y/n). He knows that she’s hardly kissed anyone before so she’s inexperienced. He slipped his tongue into her mouth and began to dance around her mouth, taking his time and enjoying the feeling. (Y/n) face lit up in at least 10 different shades of red, this was definitely now how she imagined the kiss going but she enjoyed it. Her hands found the back of his neck while his hands found her waist. By now, there was no extra space between the 2. A small groan left Ace’s lips as the 2 of them continued to kiss. Fireworks continued to light up the sky, but the 2 of them didn’t even care. Ace probably could’ve kept the kiss going but after feeling a soft tug from (Y/n) on his shirt, he finally broke the kiss. As he leaned back he studied (Y/n)'s face. With the help of the bright flashes of light that illumined the sky, he could see the huge blush that covered her whole face: her cheeks, ears, and even neck. It was an amazing sight to see, especially after all the times (Y/n) had made Ace blush. He easily thought of it as payback, and seeing how he left her speechless he felt satisfied.

“I guess I don’t have to give you an answer anymore, do I?” Ace smirked as his strong arm continued to keep a tight hold around her waist. It still took (Y/n) a moment to regain her composer, the kiss was so unexpected and...amazing. There was no doubt that the feeling between the 2 is very much mutual.

“I...uh..A...a-after that kiss, if you don’t ask me to be your girlfriend now I might as well walk out of here empty-handed.” (Y/n) also kept her hands around her neck not wanting to let go of the warm body. Ace scoffed at her comment. Although the day didn’t go as plan at all, at least Ace was able to confess and not lose (Y/n). It filled him with so much indescribable happiness, he was going to be smiling for weeks. He closed the gap one last time, but this time with a tight hug. As he snuggled his face into the side of (Y/n)'s neck, she giggled feeling his black hair tickle her neck, “Ya’know, I guess we do owe it to Luffy. I mean, if he didn’t tell me then I wouldn’t have confessed either.”

“You? Confessed?”

“Mm-hm. I can’t tell you how long I’ve liked you. But I guess it was the same as you. I was scared to ruin what we already had.” (Y/n) explained as she nuzzled the nose into his hair as if she was trying to hide. Ace’s eyes widen at her explanation, turns out he hardly knows his best friend, “But, we really do have to make sure to thank Luffy.”

“I’ll make sure to beat him up later.” Ace muttered causing (Y/n) to erupt in laugher. Although, (Y/n) thought Ace was joking around Ace knows for a fact that he will beat him up for ruining their date, but he must give him credit at least. Even though Luffy didn’t mean to do anything, he ended up making this the best day ever.

[aislingyngaio-games]

The Tifareth Balance

I think this goes all the way back to the gnostic tree, and how everything has to be brought into balance to achieve Final Heaven.

Introduction: Where the Characters Begin in FF7

At the beginning of the story, Aerith was treated all her life as special by certain individuals - Turks, Shinra/Hojo, Elmyra, Zack. This gave her a very young Queen Victoria levels of self-importance and obstinence, very self-centered world view if you will, and that's why in OG she's always asking Cloud what he thinks about her etc (which actually implies she's rather confused that she isn't already the center of his world somehow) during dialogue options. This is also I believe partially why she seems to sense Ifalna, Elmyra’s husband, and Zack enter the Lifestream, yet seems inured when two reactors, a plate, and the related mass loss of life occurred. Surely she should have been overwhelmed by the sheer number of souls passing back into the Lifestream, yet she seems perfectly deaf to this mass upheaveal and more concerned about her own earthly affairs as she meets Cloud? Sounds oddly cold for a steward of the planet who could hear its cries, however faintly. There’s no Obiwan-Alderaan moment for her at all. Her starting point is that she misses the forest for the trees.

Meanwhile, we have Tifa, who though in her youth was the center of a circle of friends, we learn during the Lifestream that none of them actually understood her, esp obvious during her grief over her mother's death. For an introvert, this is actually a deeply socially draining experience, and since then, given how one by one her social circle deserted her and the village for job opportunities, she is left to believe she's simply a cog in the Grand Scheme. She's always had to suppress her own self and think of others before her. It doesn't matter that she probably wants to leave the village that's been emptied of her peers - she's the chief's daughter so she must stay. It doesn't matter that she disagreed over the reactor bombings, for the Greater Good Avalanche must do something to save the Planet, so she had to acquiesant against her own wishes. It was she who worried and grieved most for the two reactor bombings and the plate fall and its associated loss of life, even though she still had Cloud with her, and realistically couldn’t actually hear the cries of the Planet. Her starting point is that she misses the trees for the forest.

In other words, at the beginning of the story, Aerith is too selfish and Tifa is too selfless. And as author Rick Riordan once wrote, "The most dangerous flaws are those which are good in moderation. Evil is easy to fight. Lack of wisdom… that is very hard indeed." (Athena, The Titan's Curse)

Aerith’s Character Arc in FF7

Over the course of the story, we see Aerith, even while leveraging her position and her blood against Shinra's encroachment, was equally afraid of her own powers. She ignored and hid herself away from the problems of Gaia, hiding under the protection of Elmyra for as long as she could. She disregards opinions and feelings of others like when she totally misjudged how to handle Barret's raw emotions over Corel at the Gold Saucer. She was not at all oblivious to Tifa's feelings yet still attempted to monopolize Cloud's attentions in front of her. This behaviour can be traced back to her need to stand firm against the Turks’/Shinra’s persuasions, though when used on regular people like the team, it is very offputting, abrasive, thoughtless and likely was what actually alienated her peers from her growing up. Ultimately, she made the fatal mistake of believing she knows what's best for the group in merrily skipping off alone into the Forbidden City (I mean, sure, we all know Cloud was unstable from the Jenova manipulation but there were 7 other sane party members who could have been consulted and split up before she skipped off unprotected?), and ultimately her fatal flaw of arrogance and selfishness caused her death. Not because she meant to die, knowing it will protect the planet, because she'd always intended to return to the team ("She talked about the future more than the rest of us"), but she died anyway because her arrogance and selfishness were her fatal flaw.

I think it is only in death, though unaddressed explicitly by the game story itself (which of course remains on the living party members, and therefore is the story of life, and how life still moves on after death), that she truly grasped the littleness of who she is. That ultimately, back in the Lifestream with all the other Cetras, she was finally able to understand that in the end, she was just another Cetra in the great battle against Jenova. Sure, she was the Cetra who summoned Holy, but it was actually doing more harm than good by itself. It was only with the collective power and force of the Lifestream, of all who were born of the Planet and all who returned to the Planet, that Meteor was able to aid Aerith (Holy) in pushing back Meteor. In accepting her ordinariness among the Cetra is when Aerith truly becomes the mother of Gaia, even if nobody other than the FF7 team will ever remember her name. Her legacy lives on in Gaia, along with the legacy every other Cetra died to preserve.

Aerith's character arc is to temper her selfishnes with selflessness, to care for the welfare of all instead of the welfare of a few individuals, and to recognise that she is but a small part in the greater plan, that it is ok to not be special. Her special blood didn't stop her from dying, nor was she alone the only saviour of the Planet. In the end, I believe that Aerith's journey in FF7 is her journey to understand that no matter how special she seems to be, in the end, the Planet will still live on without her too, with Nanaki as the probable successor to her decimated race's role as the new steward of the Planet.

Tifa’s Character Arc in FF7

As for Tifa, her character arc is the complete opposite: to temper her selflessness with selfishness. How odd a concept for a protagonist! Except it goes right back to the balance necessary to achieve Final Heaven ("The most dangerous flaws are those which are good in moderation"). Tifa is shy, she is reserved, she always puts the needs and wants of others above her own, even if she disagrees. She didn't challenge Barret when she disagrees with his methods. She didn't challenge Aerith even when her own feelings were hurt, yet still she was kind in the face of such unkindness (intentional or not). She suppressed her own feelings for Cloud and tries only to behave like a friend to him even though she feels more. And most damning in her character arc, she didn't challenge Cloud over the knowledge that "I waited... but Cloud never came." It was the only piece of the Nibelheim incident she could recall clearly, but because she was too insecure in her own memories (though the rest of the Incident could be chalked up to the trauma caused by her almost dying by Masamune, Cloud's alleged absence at Nibelheim wasn't, because she had pinned her hopes on his arrival and her disappointment was palpable) she allowed what she knew to be false to stand in between them for the sake of Cloud's mental stability.

I have posited in another post that Tifa is not only the heroine of FF7 but the co-protagonist as well, or at the very least the deuteragonist. It is very telling that 10 minutes after Aerith's death, the team went snowboarding, whereas when Cloud and Tifa were both broken emotionally by Sephiroth and had their joint Heroic BSoD moment, the game experienced a timeskip. How odd that the permanent physical death of a valued party member didn't stop the game dead but the death of Cloud and Tifa's trusts in their own memories did? Yet it is important to mention as too many times already Tifa has simply been dismissed as unimportant, as simply the crutch, the guide to Cloud's story and nothing more. This could not be further from the truth. Tifa's story does not simply inform Cloud's. Tifa's story is ENTWINED with Cloud's. Even as their stories run parallel to each other's, crossing the same events, their arcs are both independent AND interdependent on each other's. Tifa is not simply a plot device or the narrator or whatever one calls Tifa in an attempt to dismiss her role in the bigger FF7 story. (And I mention this because even some Tifa fans forget this in their desire to whitewash Tifa's culpability in the Northern Crater affair, which is actually a key turning point in Tifa's hero's journey)

Someday perhaps I will write a full breakdown of Tifa’s hero’s journey (because it’s honestly frustrating to see claims – even from Tifa fans – of Tifa needing a character arc of her own when it’s always been in FF7 all along if only players will take off their protagonist/Cloud-tinted glasses) in greater detail, but for the sake of the discussion of her arc in the context of the gnostic tree and the role of balance within oneself, I will simply say this: that it is only in the death of her trust in herself, and in seeing the emotional death of the one she holds most dear (Cloud’s mental stability shattering at the Northern Crater), that she learns she cannot simply stand passively by even in the face of what she knows to be wrong, just to protect someone else’s feelings and wants. She learns that even inaction has consequences. That she has to be brave enough, assertive enough, just selfish enough to place her own needs and desires, her own thoughts and beliefs, on an equal importance to the rest of the party, even the Planet’s. That just because the world is ending, it doesn’t make her personal struggles any less important than the world’s problems, it doesn’t mean the problem can be ignored or that it will simply go away, or even that it’s unimportant in the grand scheme of things.

She erred, she fell, she “died”. And she learned, she grasped the second chance with both hands, and at Mideel, she stood firm and said, “This is where I want to be. Being with Cloud. Caring for him.” It wasn’t revenge she pursued any longer, or high-minded abstract ideals like saving the Planet. She still would help save the Planet if she could, but for once in her life, she put her foot down and make clear her own priorities – to be by the side of the one she love above all else. And she could make this decision without jeopardizing the Planet because of her ordinariness. She wasn’t imbued with special powers or special bloodlines or special keepsakes and her absence will most likely not affect the Planet’s safety or lack thereof. Even in her absence, we are sent on story missions that still ended in failure – heck, even after Cloud and Tifa rejoined, the Huge Materia space mission still failed anyway, because the point is... just because one wants to save the Planet doesn’t mean one can (after all, summoning Holy didn’t work either, at least not at first).

This is also paralleled with Tifa’s caring of Cloud: there was literally no guarantee that Cloud will ever recover from his Mako poisoning – he could be a vegetable forever, and yet this is still Tifa’s choice. This isn’t just about Cloud, but about Tifa asserting her desire to be with Cloud even in the face of both world destruction and his permanent vegetative state. This is who Tifa wants to be, who Tifa chooses to be. This isn’t something being pushed onto her as part of some “greater good” that she should ignore her own wants and needs for. (And to all those who deride Tifa as being weak for making her choices all for one man, remember that feminism isn’t about a “strong independent woman who need no man”, it’s about having the right to choose who we wish to be without being forced by any societal expectations of us. “Life doesn't make any sense without interdependence. We need each other, and the sooner we learn that, the better for us all." — Erik Erikson. If anything, Tifa choosing to stay by Cloud’s side is the very definition of feminism – it’s not about what we do, rather, that we have a right to choose without being shamed for what we choose to do)

Yet in the Lifestream is when she truly finds herself together with Cloud. She learns that, though she believed she is too ordinary to be special to anyone (remember, though she was the center of her group of friends in her youth, none of them really looked back when the time came for them, or at least she thought none did more than mere talk anyway), she was actually the reason for Cloud’s entire journey, that he reciprocated special feelings for her, that he always intended to return for her. She learned that, just as Cloud’s impetus was her reason for taking up martial arts (one of the few acts of “rebellion”/assertiveness in her youth where she was probably pressured to stay in the village either due to her father’s position or her gender), she was the reason for Cloud’s desire to be a hero too. Tifa was special in her ordinariness. She meant enough to someone who meant enough to her.

Tifa’s arc is to recognise that though she won’t ever be important to the Planet as an individual, she was important enough to the one that mattered most. It is not wrong or “selfish” to find individual love and prioritise it equal to the needs of the Planet. And in the end, it was this revelation and resolution of both her and Cloud’s mutual feelings for each other that gave Cloud the strength he’d previously only accessed from despair five years ago, the strength to defeat Sephiroth. And it was only with Sephiroth’s defeat that Holy was unleashed, and only when the Lifestream joined its chorus that the Planet was ultimately saved. In the end, it was the importance Tifa “selfishly” placed on her own wants and needs that saved Cloud, and by saving him, the Planet as well. If she’d been told that Cloud’s predicament, a single individual, was nothing in the face of the end of the world, if she hadn’t been just that little bit selfish in the face of her extreme selflessness, it might have simply brought them nothing but destruction.

Conclusion

In this sense, I believe that Aerith and Tifa were indeed developed to be two halves of the same whole. They started off as two extremes in terms of personality – Aerith was self-centered, assertive and intransigent, while Tifa was selfless, passive and insecure. Yet these are only negative traits when taken to extreme, and by meeting each other, by learning from each other, tempering and moderating each other’s behaviour, by Aerith learning to be more considerate, more humble and more persuadable (because my god, was Aerith utterly brattish and unbearable in Remake before she met Tifa), by Tifa learning to be more assertive, more confident, to take pride in herself, the two halves of a whole bring each other to balance and become better versions of themselves for it.

"The most dangerous flaws are those which are good in moderation. Evil is easy to fight. Lack of wisdom… that is very hard indeed."

P.S. tagging @enigmaphenomenon as it was your twitter thread that inspired this post. A lot of the thoughts in this impulsive post probably definitely needs a hell lot more refining by more critical minds but I hope this is a good starting point for discussion.

[foilfreak]

BEAUTY AND HER BEAST: Chapter 9 (temporary 1-2 week hiatus being taken from his fic, click ao3 link and read end notes to find out why. I WILL BE COMING BACK!!!)

WARNING PLZ READ BEFORE CONTINUING: This fic is rated NSFW and contains graphic depictions of things some people may find disturbing or alarming, including, but not limited to: violence, gore, unhealthy family relationships, Oedipus complexes, gratuitous amount of pornographic literature, ableist language, physical, mental, and emotional abuse, etc. If you are someone who does not enjoy fiction with these elements in them, then I suggest you refrain from reading this, because this fic will have all that, and probably a lot more. So, this is your first and final warning to turn around and go somewhere else if stuff like this just isn't your vibe, because from this point forward, your emotional wellbeing is in your own hands, and I will not be accepting blame if you disregarded my warnings and ended up reading something you didn't like. Idk why I feel compelled to write one of these despite this being Resident Evil fanfic, but I figured I'd cover my ass just in case.

(AO3 link below)

Despite the shrill echo of Nadine’s terrified voice being something Salvatore has prepared himself for since before the young woman even arrived in the reservoir, the real thing was still somehow 100 times worse than he could have ever imagined it being.

Chaos followed as Salvatore frantically left his hiding spot, crawling across the floor as quickly as his mangled body would allow, as a loud crashing sound vibrates the whole room once Nadine’s body finally lands, quite uncomfortably I might add, on the hardwood of the floor. The sudden frantic and terrified swinging of her arms following Salvatore’s verbal slip knocked the poor woman off balance, sending her right back down to the floor for a second time.

Staring at the writhing figure of Nadine from the other corner across the room, Salvatore sniffles pitifully to himself as tears cascade down his face. Oh how appropriately cruel, that the universe wouldn’t even give Salvatore the decency of a proper meeting with Nadine, much less a chance at friendship and even less at anything past that. It makes perfect sense that this would be the way Nadine found out how disgusting and pathetic he is. Sitting alone in a dark and dingy room, watching old romance films because he has no one of his own to hold and love like the men in the movies do, and eating entire blocks of cheese all on his own, because nothing pairs with unending loneliness like the tang of sharp cheddar and the horrible stomach ache that follows it.

Putting his hands up to cover his face, a final effort to hide himself away from the beautiful woman’s gaze, Salvatore merely sat in his new corner, his shoulders shaking with sobs of agony and his body trembling in fear as Nadine’s gaze finally locked on to him, and him alone this time, in the dark silence of the room.

“H-Hey… are you alright? I’m sorry I yelled like that, I didn’t mean to startle you like that, but you suddenly spoke up out of nowhere and it scared me half to death” The soft voice from across the room asks, causing Salvatore to pause in his moment of self-loathing. Did… did she just ask him if he was alright? Wasn’t he the one who was supposed to ask her that?

“W-what…?” Salvatore chokes out, peering out slightly from behind the cover of his hood in confusion. The sight he’s met with is one that steals his breath away, much like the first time he laid eyes upon the stunning beauty this tiny woman held. However, unlike their “first” meeting, that took place back in Mother Miranda’s lab, this time there was no metal pod separating the two, Salvatore realized, as the sight of Nadine, slouched tiredly on the ground barely a few feet away from where he cowered in the corner, registered in the mutant man’s mind.

Next, of course, came her actual appearance. Black strands tousled messily across her forehead framed her round face and golden eyes perfectly. Her long white dress bunched up around her upper thighs, revealing the curves of her large, but muscular legs, that had previously been obscured by the material of her dress. Slouched shoulders and heavy breathing caused the material of Nadine’s nightgown to slowly inched its way down the front of her chest, not exposing her necessarily, but definitely revealing more and more of her lusciously plump breasts with every harsh up and down of her shoulders.

Tears continued to fall from Salvatore’s eyes even as saliva began to fill his mouth and his fear and self-loathing slowly gave way to the growing fire beginning to kindle in the pit of his stomach. The sound of his muffled sobs of anguish and arousal escaping from behind his hands causes Nadine’s face to immediately fall, agony replacing the previously wild look her face held.

“N… N-no. No no, please don’t cry. It’s alright. I-I-I’m not going to hurt you… I mean it… see… I don’t have any weapons on me” Nadine says hurriedly, standing up and doing a spin to show that nothing that could pose potential harm to Salvatore was hiding between the folds or frills of the thin garment. “See! Nothing to hide.”

Salvatore merely closed his tear soaked eyes and shook his head, the motion moving his whole body along with it. “Nooooooooooo… y-you d-don’t… under-s-stand…”

“What do you mean? What don’t I understand?” Nadine asked, kneeling back down to the ground, moving slightly closer to Salvatore than she was before, a terrifyingly genuine look of concern and worry etched into her beautiful features.

The mutant man fought back a wave of nausea and choked on a sob at the angelic sight. Hoards of hormones equating to despair and arousal battle within the hellish confines of Salvatore’s brain. The mutant man was filled with so many mixed emotions that he genuinely couldn’t tell if he wanted to tear himself apart until not a scrap of evidence of his existence remained, or if he wanted to just spring forward and consume the delectably dangerous morsel that sat so prettily before him, like an octopus latching itself upon the almighty great white shark as it just passes above their home, pulling the now helpless and unsuspecting predator down into the depths of a true monster’s domain.

“Hey, come on now. It sounds like you’re having a hard time breathing. Why don’t you come out of the corner where the air’s a little fresher, ya?” The young woman coaxes gently, moving ever so slightly closer to Salvatore as she speaks. The movement does not go unnoticed by the hooded man, nor does the way it pushes her dress even further up her already decently exposed thighs, but with little ability to stop Nadine’s incremental advances, Salvatore merely buries his face into his hands, blocking as much of his disgustingly bloated maw as he possibly could, even as the young woman attempted to change her angle to get a better look at him.

“P-p-please… jus-just stop!” Salvatore commands, suddenly filled with a wave of confidence that abandons him just as quickly as it arrived. “j-j-j… j-just… g-go… please…”

A light mist has become visible in the light reflecting off of Nadine’s eyes, the young woman looking truly saddened by the strange man’s utter rejection of her. Whether it was out of pity for Salvatore’s sake, or fear of her own impending isolation should the likes of Salvatore even reject her company, the hooded man could neither tell, nor did he really want to know.

“Well that’s not a very nice thing to say to someone trying to be your friend now is it? I might not look as normal as I used to but I’m not here to cause any trouble” Nadine scolds lightly, her voice strong, though even Salvatore can detect a slight wobble. “But… if you can give me a valid reason why I should leave, then… then I’ll do it, no questions asked.”

A valid reason? What other reason did she need than to get away from him?

Salvatore takes a moment to wipe away some of the tears that coated his face, slightly peeking out to look at the younger woman once again before speaking. “Y-you… you can’t… s-stay here… th-this place… it i-isn’t… isn’t g-good enough f-for you… it’s… i-its not w-worthy… I-i… I’m… n-not worthy… of you…”

Nadine shifts slightly closer once again, a pained look cut into her face like a raging storm cuts through large waves out in the open ocean. Her whole body was a sea of turbulent waters as she gingerly reached her hand forward, slowly but surely inching her way closer to Salvatore, until her wine dark fingers just barely brushed against the thick, rugged fabric of his overcoat.

Silence befell the two mutants, permeating the room with tension so thick and heavy Salvatore thought he might suffocate.

The cornered man could not bring himself to look up as Nadine’s delicate fingers gently latched on to the article of clothing covering his wretched and disgusting form. Salvatore shuddered as he prepared himself for what was inevitably to come once Nadine removed his overcoat: the biting cold of the surrounding area pinching and nipping at his thick, but sensitive flesh; another shrill shriek of fear and terror that would pierce him to his very core; the sound of Nadine, beautiful, gorgeous, perfect, immaculate Nadine, fleeing not just the underground tunnels that had lead her to discover this place, but also the reservoir, never to be seen again.

Salvatore wouldn’t blame her for this choice, of course. After all, it’s what he would do if he found himself trapped with a wretched creature as grotesque and pitiful as he himself was. Death wasn’t an option Salvatore had the luxury of entertaining, but he never blamed others if they chose it over him.

He would too, if he could.

Despite his earlier expectations, the hand on his coat never moves to take the garment off the trembling man, instead, moving to gently run along the side of Salvatore’s head, down his shoulders, before resting itself softly, but firmly, along the area of growths that covered the small of his back. After taking a moment to allow the violent trembling of Salvatore’s body, in response to the young woman’s gentle caresses, to calm down to something more manageable, Nadine slowly lifts her left hand and rests it on the opposite side of the hunched-over man’s head, yet she makes no move to try and take his cloak off or remove his face from his hands.

Stillness and silence return for a brief moment, almost as though Nadine were waiting for Salvatore to raise objection to her advances and stop her, as if he had the power or control to do anything but cower in the corner and cover his growing excitement in shame. With no explicit objections voiced, the hands resting gently around Salvatore began to slowly pull him toward Nadine’s body.

“Come here” Nadine’s soft, heavenly voice commands lightly, as Salvatore’s body does as instructed with no resistance whatsoever. A broken sob of humiliating arousal escapes the hooded man when he gently falls forward into Nadine’s lap, her arms quickly moving to wrap around and hold the hooded man against her soft, warm, and strong body.

“Shhhh, it’s alright. There’s no need to be so worked up. You have nothing to be afraid of, here” Nadine coos soothingly, as her hand gently caresses his thin, leather covered arm.

Salvatore cries pitifully as the painfully comforting words and actions make him want to vomit from overjoy. “Y-you… you d-dont unders-s-stand…” the hunched man weeps, his voice slightly muffled by his knees as he continues trying to hide his face by shoving it as far between his legs as he’s physically capable.

“What don’t I understand? Could you explain it to me?” Nadine asks, patiently holding the sobbing mess of a man firmly against herself as he collects himself enough to answer.

“I-it isn’t… you… th-that I f-fear…” Salvatore begins, trailing off as another wave of cold dread and fiery desire collide violently somewhere deep inside the hooded man’s chest.

“What is it that you’re afraid of then? If not... me?” The young woman’s angelic voice questioned, the slightly fearful and worried tone of her voice toward the end of her question, as if what Salvatore thought of her was even worth her precious time to worry about, made the mutant man’s stomach wretch sickeningly.

“I-I… I f-fear… oh god-” Salvatore began, before promptly shutting up and shoving Nadine as far away from him as he could from that angle, throwing himself to the floor, on his hands and knees, in the opposite direction just as a wave of acidic bile forces its way from the confines of the man’s mouth and out onto the floor in front of him. His own hideous reflection stares back at him in the growing puddle of stomach acid once he’s done.

A spiteful reminder from the universe of what he was and why he lived the way that he did.

Drunkenly reaching his hand forward to smear the vomit puddle around so he at least didn’t have to look at himself AND sit in his own filth while he gathered the energy to get up and wash off in the lake, Salvatore missed the way Nadine’s eyes narrowed in confusion at the man’s clumsy movements, before suddenly widening as she realized what the hooded man was doing.

“No, wait! Don’t touch that, it’ll only make you feel worse if you fiddle around with that nasty stuff” Nadine says hurriedly, as she rushes forward to take Salvatore’s moving hand in her own and presses it firmly against her bosom to prevent the man from playing around in his own throw up. She gasps in shock and her grip tightens around Salvatore’s hand, as though she’d suddenly remembered something important she’d forgotten about and Salvatore’s hand had brought it back to her conscious mind, before shaking her head and pulling herself from her thoughts.

“Oh, you poor thing! Here, let me wipe your face for you, and try to take deeper, slower breaths while you’re at it. You’ve managed to work yourself into such a panic that it's no wonder you’re throwing up all over yourself.”

The room is spinning far too fast and in far too many different directions for Salvatore to really be sure what’s going on, however the feeling of Nadine’s skin pressed against his own as she tenderly raised the edge of her pristine white dress to wipe away the lines of green acidic bile that had been left on Salvatore’s lip, was a sensation of euphoria unlike anything the hooded man has ever felt before in his entire life.

Not even Mother Miranda’s own embrace felt quite as… ‘brutal’ wasn’t the appropriate word to use based on its true definition, but in that instance it's the only word that Salvatore can think of to describe how intense everything around him, Nadine especially, feels at the present moment. Her touch, her scent, her warmth, her weight, her firm grip around him, the constant rhythmic thrum of her heart beat against his cold, bony hand, all of it was so intensely brutal that it was a wonder how the combined effect didn’t beat him into the floor. It was too much for Salvatore to handle all at once, and yet he knew that if the kind angel sitting next to him retracted so much as a single one of those sensations, he’d lose himself to insanity like careless swimmers lose themselves to sudden rapid currents.

Salvatore threw up 3 more times before his stomach finally allowed him the relief the hooded man had desperately been craving. The floor was an absolute mess by this point, but thanks to Nadine, who’d managed to keep his upper body upright the whole time, Salvatore hadn’t made nearly as much of a mess of himself as he normally did, though that still didn’t fix the primary problem that had resulted in all that vomiting.

“There we go. That must feel a lot better, huh?” Nadine asks calmly, pulling Salvatore in to rest against her chest once again, his face still turned downward and away in avoidance.

Although Salvatore does not grace her question with a response, the hooded man has long since given up trying to get away from the young woman, at this point just allowing her to move him however she pleased, taking in as much of her kindness and affection as he possibly could, before she inevitably hightails it out of here, of course. It was only a matter of time, at this rate.

“You know… you’re a lot bigger than I expected you to be” comes a sudden declaration from Nadine, breaking the silence that had permeated throughout the room and immediately pulling Salvatore from his dejected whimpering.

“I mean… I suppose I should have expected that, especially since most middle schoolers are taller than me, nowadays” the young woman continues with a lighthearted chuckle, “but you looked so small and stump-like from all the way up in that stupid pod that I couldn’t help but be a little surprised when I felt you had arms and legs. You could have very well had a snake for a body for all I knew and I still don’t think I’d have been as surprised, though this huge coat you're wearing certainly doesn’t make getting a good look at you very easy.”

“Th… that’s th-the point…” Salvatore mumbles, though seemingly more to himself than anyone else.

“Really? And why is that?” Nadine asks curiously, clearly having heard the older man’s muttering.

“I-if… if you k-knew me… you’d know… th-the answer to that q-question” Salvatore replies sadly, fresh tears beginning to prickle along his lower lid, threatening to spill over as the depressing reality of his meaningless existence makes itself more than obvious.

He was a filthy monster who deserved to spend the rest of his life alone and miserable, because why would something as unholy as him ever be worthy of anything else?

“Oh, now I don’t think that’s true at all. After all, I’d like to think I know you pretty well, and I still want to see what you look like” Nadine counters, her words shocking Salvatore beyond belief.

She… knew him? How? When? In what ways? What?

The only other time they’ve ever interacted was back in Mother Miranda’s laboratory. While the hooded man supposed his gifts could be aiding in Nadine’s surprisingly positive impression of him, he hesitated to call receiving a dress and a necklace from a random stranger “knowing” someone. How on earth could she say she knew him when, for all intents and purposes, they’ve only just met?

“B-b-but… h-how… how d-do you k-know… m-me? Y-you have… t-trouble… seeing… d-dont you? D-did… did y-you see me… b-back in the l-lab?” Salvatore asks, tears belonging to an unspecified emotion once again beginning to fall as a hand moves to gently grasp at the bones lining the top of his hood.

“Unfortunately no, I wasn’t able to get a good look at you before, hence why I was trying so hard to catch a glimpse of you earlier. You are, however, right in the assumption about my eyesight. I have severely impaired vision, yes, but it's manageable with a strong enough prescription; not that I see myself getting to an eye doctor anytime soon for a new pair of contacts. But even without my contact lenses, I can still make out general movements, as well as general shapes and colors, pretty easily from far away, it's just fine details from a distance and darkness that give me the most trouble. My vision is actually perfectly normal so long as whatever I’m looking at is within a few feet of me. If I looked down right now, I’d probably be able to see your face normally. Do you hide your face away from everyone around here?” the young woman asks curiously, gently pulling the dark fabric of the hood back, slowly revealing Salvatore’s face to the dim light of the room, even as her gaze remained locked on the wall behind them.

“N-not… e-everyone… th-there’s a f-few… who… who I sh-show my f-face to… regularly” Salvatore chokes.

Really?” Nadine asks, “like who?”

“M-my… siblings.”

“Oh, so you’re not the only one around here then? Are your siblings here in the reservoir?”

“N-no… th-they live… in o-other places… of th-their own… a-around the v-village.”

“Wow, so there is more of this place to explore, then!” Nadine states excitedly. “I’d love to get out and see more of the area for myself at some point, though I doubt that’s very wise given the amount of howling I’ve heard the past few nights and the fact I don’t know my way around this area... though, even if I did, that memory is probably long gone along with the fucking rest of them… not that I would have wanted to hold onto them anyways, I don’t think.”

Salvatore’s attention is caught by the last bit of Nadine’s statement, confusion filling him over what the younger woman could possibly mean by what she’d just said. “‘G-gone along w-with the rest o-of them?’... W-what… d-does that… what d-do you m-mean?”

Nadine remains silent for a moment as she continues to absentmindedly stroke the side of Salvatore’s head, the hooded man unable to tell what she could possibly be feeling right now without risking exposing his face to her.

Thankfully, Nadine resumes speaking before Salvatore loses patience and gets too risky. “My memory of the life I had before waking up in that damn pod is foggy at absolute best, but I don’t need my memories to know that I wasn’t very happy with my previous life and that I was actively trying to get away from it somehow. What exactly was I even running from and where was I going? Who knows, and frankly I don’t care to relearn it either. I do think it's quite funny that you were talking about me needing to go somewhere else because this place isn’t good enough for me though, because honestly, even if I could somehow get the hell out of here, it's not like I’d have anywhere else to go. Getting away from the shitty life I had before is probably how I ended up here to begin with, though if I’d known this was how things would end up I might have reconsidered throwing it all away so suddenly.”

Had it not been for Mother Miranda being there for him throughout the years, Salvatore would probably think much the same way as Nadine about the whole situation, but having Mother meant he always had a purpose and a goal to work towards, so it didn’t matter that Salvatore couldn’t return to his old life. What shocked the deformed man the most however, was the fact that Nadine appeared to not only already accept the fact that she couldn’t go back to her former life, but seemed to actively be searching for something, anything new to try and fill the void that had been left behind by the life she’d, more or less, willingly gave away to come up here.

Could… could this mean…?

“Thankfully my ability to make new memories doesn’t seem to have been fucked up at all, which I’m quite happy about since I'll be needing to make a lot to fill in the empty spaces in my brain. We met for the first time in the underground laboratory I was being kept in, though I suppose it was less ‘meeting’ and more ‘seeing’ for the first time, but… still. I don’t know why you were there, or who was with you at the time, but I remember waking up just before you were about to leave. There were a couple others who’d come, before you, to look at me and a couple others for some reason, but you were the one who stuck out the most, to me. You were… special!”

Shock and dumbfounded awe nearly choke the life right out of Salvatore. He could barely comprehend a single word the young woman was saying to him, yet he clung to every heavenly syllable she uttered like they were the foundations of the word of god itself. The pain and agony he normally felt due to his cadou mutations momentarily paused, slowly weaning from its usual constant thrum to a dull numbness that felt surprisingly euphoric in all it’s nothingness.

“S-special? Me?” Salvatore breathed, almost unable to believe the words, even as Nadine hummed in affirmation of their truth. “B-but… how…?”

The giddy chuckle Salvatore’s mundane question pulled from Nadine shook the deformed man to his very core. Her girlish laughter rattles violently around inside the deformed man’s head, playing the sweet, holy tune over and over again, like a broken record that Salvatore would happily go insane listening to for the rest of eternity if he could.

“Isn’t it obvious? I’d have assumed you knew exactly what you were doing with how sweetly you talked back there, why it's almost criminal how suavely you stroked and tugged at the strings of my delicate heart. All the others were so rude, boring, and/or annoying that I thought I might die if I ended up stuck with one of them, but then you came in and swept me right off my feet. It was like nothing else I’ve ever felt before and immediately told me that you weren’t like all the others, you were a kind man and if I ever ran into you I could tell I’d be able to trust you…” Nadine trails off for a moment. “When I learned that we were being moved out of containment and onto our “permanent homes”, I hoped and prayed that I’d be lucky enough to end up wherever you were, but I didn’t want to get too excited until I found out for certain.”

“Th-then how did y-you know… it-it was me?”

“How could I possibly not? You set yourself apart from all the others right out of the gate. I'm honestly shocked you don’t remember it yourself. But there's not a single doubt in my mind that I know exactly who you are… er- well, I suppose a more appropriate way of putting that would be “I know exactly who you are to me”, not that what other people say or think has ever really been something I’ve taken with more than a grain of salt” Nadine giggle beautifully, smiling kindly as she cradled Salvatore’s hoodless, tear soaked face against her, like he were the most precious thing she’d ever laid eyes upon and wanted to hold and protect him until the end of time.

Unable to look away any longer, Salvatore allows his head to rise from his knees until it settles upon the face of the woman currently cradling him in her arms. Her gaze remained turned away from Salvatore for a moment, though for some reason the hooded man had a feeling that it was more out of respect for him and his boundaries than a lack of desire to see his face.

What a strange thing, to be treated with more kindness, love, and respect from a complete stranger than from the majority of people you interact with.

Salvatore wanted to cry when Nadine’s golden eyes finally lowered to him, her face slowly shifting downwards until their noses were little more than an inch apart from one another, though whether his tears were from agony or ecstasy, even he couldn’t properly tell at the present moment. Only one question was on his mind and the deformed man would stop at nothing until he got an answer for it.

“W-who… who am I-I… t-to y-you?” Salvatore asks, his voice barely above a whisper as he forces himself to stare directly into the endless pool of honey yellow swirling around in her irises, wanting-no… needing to know, to see with his own two eyes, what exactly he was to this woman, and whether that answer would spell endless disaster for him and his deep seeded desires, or be the key that unlocks a world of possibilities almost as endless as the spheres of gold that Salvatore finds himself unable, or rather unwilling, to tear his gaze from, lest this be the first, and last time he ever be blessed enough to see them from this close.

A long moment of silence passes as Nadine returns Salvatores gaze, the fondness of her expression only growing as she lowers her forehead to rest against his, a soft, almost breathlessly enamored expression that he’d only seen on black and white screens cast toward men eons more pleasant to look at than he was, slowly spread across her perfect face as she finally answers Salvatore’s question.

“You’re the lovely man who held my hand!”

[blorbosexterminator]

Sergio's not gonna die, he is needed for a possible re-opening of the show. Palermo is too obvious (and that matters to pina), Raquel was already fake-killed. OTOH, Denver: has a lot more protagonism this season, with flashback and all, he is a universally beloved character (always a good candidate to kill), Jaime Lorente has been seen in some town with pedro and alba filming (prob flashback but why with those 2?). 90% sure he's the dead (if anyone).

Honestly, the only thing that would truly surprise me at this point if they indeed don't kill anyone next volume. Would be a move™, I'll give them that. But yes, I do think that they'll go with Denver too, and it has been foreshadowed to be honest. Doesn't change how much I dislike and genuinely disagree with that choice though. I don't think the actor would be up for a spin-off honestly, but anyway Sergio only has the element of surprise and the parallel with his father (the show is too fond of parallels lmfao) not much else to make his death a good choice.

And as you said, Palermo is predictable. And I imagine, with how politically aware™ the show is this season, they might also try to avoid the 'bury your gays' trope.

The thing is, most of what you and I just listed are just meta-textual reasons. I'm not saying those reasons have no place at all when considering writing choices, of course not, but I do disapprove, generally speaking, of writers taking this too much into account when writing their finales.

Sergio would be shocking to a more extent than the others, but that doesn't make him any more a good choice. Denver would guarantee as much of an angry and frustrated reaction as Nairobi (Although I honestly don't dislike Nairobi's death as much as everyone else. I thought it was well-played to an extent) and would have a strong emotional response plus parallels with Moscu, but to me it would be very misplayed.

I wasn't really talking about what I expect from the show as much as what I personally believe is a good writing choice. I most expect Denver to die, but I think Palermo is the most fitting choice.

Like sure, those things are subjective, and they change from one fan to the other as well as from one writer to the other. But just because the death of a character is predictable doesn't mean it's not the most fitting choice for the situation. Not really, I think it means the audience sees something there.

Look, before anyone starts assuming I just *want* Martín to die to see some afterlife scene for my ship, or even a parallel. Yeah, sure, preferablly as a fan of them I'd love this, but I don't think they are in any way necessar. To me, they would just be peppering that would make the death scene nicer stylistically speaking. I don't even think the show canonized the after-life or something of the sort, again I just think they are a mere stylistic choice. I wouldn't be at all actually bothered if we got nothing of the sort.

I just wholly believe the best choice to go with for both textual and meta-textual reasons is Palermo. First, the meta-textual ones, despite the fact that I disapprove of how they got there, I have to admit that the show managed to get him to be more likable this season. General audiences that have previously hated the hell out of him like him enough now. But at the same time Martín is still not Sergio, Raquel, or Denver. His death would cause some sadness and emotional response in the audience but not literal rage and feeling of betrayel, like say for example how GOT fans felt. Also, Martín now has enough alive characters that care about him that would make his death sad. It's unlikely an audience would give a shit about a character's death if none of the surrounding characters do. But now there is Helsinki, who incidentally Martín is also much nicer and caring towards this season, so Helsi would have "good reasons" to react strongly to his death, Sergio supposedly also cares for Martín, and we can say Raquel respects him. So the characters around him wouldn't be indifferent, especially if his death has value in the narrative, say an actual sacrifice for the rest of them. The show itself is VERY fond of the sort of arc that goes along the line 'Selfish character who caused harm and pain to all around them reaches selfishness and then sacrifices their life for the sake of the others.' It happened with Berlin, it happened with Tokyo. And it seems is effective enough. So if I were the writer and wanted a death that is effective but won't anger audience too much, I'd 100% go with him.

And again, a point is Martín even has something that neither Tokyo nor Andrés did, he had a very direct hand in the killing of a very beloved team member. Sure, you can say Tokyo had a hand in what happened to Moscu, but Tokyo legitimately had very little choice because she couldn't find Sergio and she had no intention to do harm, she didn't know her entrance would literally cost the man's life. Martín knew very, very well what Gandia was capable of and this is exactly why he did what he did.

Martín is narratively still responsible for Nairobi's death and took no hand in even avenging her from Gandia. That was Bogota and then Tokyo. And the character seems to be weighted by that guilt to a large extent. And I think the absolute best way for the narrative to resolve this point is by Martín dying directly to save Helsinki, who the show also made a point of also incapacitating, and I'd imagine that would have repercussions on how efficient getting out of the bank would be on him. Characters rarely get injured just for the sake of it, Nairobi's terrible injury from Alicia made her much more susceptible to Gandia, who had a huge leverage on her as she was physically incapable of resisting anything. (I imagine Monica's situation would also have repercussions--hopefully just not on Denver lmfao)

So despite generally not being a fan at all of the pairing in any way or form, and how they generally make no sense to me, with how the show is going now it's definitely best for Martín to die partially for his plan and partially for Helsinki.

Like ideally, what I'd personally most love to see and what I'd personally write a 2573 different fic versions of, is for Martín to die for his plan and for Sergio. I personally believe outside of the plan, Martín's most important relationship in his arc is with Sergio. But the show already ignored their relationship enough this volume as a first and Sergio already got the strong death scenes with Berlin and Tokyo as a second, it could be seen as an excess. But with Helsinki it's meaningful on a different level. The character Nairobi cared about the most is Helsinki (and he's also nearly as well-liked by the audience), so this would balance what he did to Nairobi in a pretty significant way, not completely out-do it, but the two acts would definitely balance each other. To both the audience and to the characters, Martín would be truly "redeemed." Which despite how much I dislike, and genuinely don't agree with it, the show is already putting a lot of focus on his 'redemption'. I don't like redemption arcs generally speaking, I don't think Martín is fit for it, and I don't think it's happening in an organic way at all, and I frankly believe it made him boring, but alas, it is what is is, the show is already half-way there, it already took that route, so the only end for it is to finish it and go all the way. It would be very useless if he ended up surviving lmfao.

And of course the other reason is for Martín's personal arc. The plan is his life's work, the thing he showed most loyality and love to from the moment he showed up 2 seasons ago, the end of his arc is with the end of his plan. Never mind how A LOT of scenes would be useless if Martín doesn't actually die for the success of the plan; the whole reason Sergio opposed it so strongly is because, in his own words, it was completely suicidal. Sure, you can say that they already proved the plan is dangerous by the army going in and all of this "war", but there was no Rio, Raquel, Plan Paris or Plan Roman in the original plan, so there would have been no reason for things to go that bad in that respect, all that happened in volume one is by direct consquence of the plan changing, so that still leaves the question why was Berlin and Palermo's plan so wrong and so suicidal if we don't take into account this war? If there is no answer and if there is no answer that is actually anchored by a death in canon, then those were really all just empty scenes. And of course it's Martín, the mastermind and engineer, the artist who crafted this poem, that has to die for its completion and overall success. Since day one, his arc has been tied intimately to this plan, we barely even know anything about him beyond it. And like, three people died for the mint heist and it was a plan made to work perfectly without a single flaw, where does this put a heist that was just full of romanticism and complete focus on the gold with disregard to the people? All of the scenes we saw of Sergio rejecting the bank heist in the flashbacks on that basis have to mean something now.

Against all of this, what does Denver have? What will his death signify? Nothing, in my opinion. The man didn't even want to be there. Also I guarantee you, if he does die for Monica the way he said, every single fan will turn against her and the hate the character will receive will be insane. Like why end the story of those two characters this way? What is there beyond edginess and grimness for their own sake?

Martín's death, even if it causes sadness, will be satisfying for his character. Besides, Martín as a character is too much like Tokyo, I don't imagine he himself would be very satisfied growing old and dying under the radar somewhere; going with a blaze now, sealing off his life's work and having his death mean something too is a much, much more satisfying ending for him.

Tldr; Palermo in a very balanced position to kill, especially that he is currently the actual leader, a position the show has given him with more space and better, much nicer spotlight now than in the third season. And I imagine with volume two focused more on extracting the gold, his role will get only bigger in that respect. He's still responsible for Nairobi's death. And he should 100% die for the Gold and the completion of his plan.

[fookinfandoms]

Life Eternal | Hector Castlevania

Set before Dracula requested Hector’s services. Reader is believed to be a witch, but in reality she just doesn't care for human company.

Pairing: Hector x Reader

Warnings: Language, small mention of smut, mentions of animal death/resurrection. 

Part One.

_________________________________________________________________

They call you a witch, and you never bothered to correct them.

It was preposterous, you were nothing of the sort. You never really understood why the townspeople hated outsiders so much. It had been months since you had settled in, yet you couldn't get as much as a smile from your own neighbour.

There was one woman however that would spare you a few words, that is if you paid her some coin in exchange for her cooked goods.

Was it because you didn't attend church? Perhaps it was because you choose to remain in the company of your dog over the local women's group that congregated every Thursday. The people weren't friendly at all, and you often wondered if you made the right decision in moving to such a tight-knit community. 

You weren't the only outsider however. It had been three weeks after you had moved in when you saw him. 

He wasn't like the others here. 

He kept his head down, his voice to himself. Even when the people would throw abuse at him, he kept his eyes to the dirt. It both saddened and confused you, wondering why such was happening. He didn't look like some brute, nor some boisterous drunk... so why did they all hate him?

Finding the courage to ask the baker, she informed you that he dabbled in dark magic, and was often found talking to wild animals. He lived on the big hill, and she continued to babble on about how he was rumoured to bring animals back to life. This surprised you, and you asked for more information but she held her hand out for more coin.

It didn't bother you as much as it should, for you spoke mainly to animals too. Your small companion - a beagle named Rhubarb. He was your best friend and the only family you had left. He wasn't everyone’s cup of tea that's for sure, often stealing fish from the baskets from local fisherman. 

This was life. 

It was Rhubarb and you against the world, that is until you came home from your weekly trip to the market, having bought new blankets for the two of you when you found Rhubarb lying on the side of the road. 

He stayed unmoving, even after calling his name twice. Rain poured down heavily, and you wondered why the silly dog hadn't run under a tree yet. You knelt down by his side, placing your basket by his head. 

He still didn't move, and your breath caught in your throat.

It took you some seconds to realise he wasn't breathing, and you screamed out in anguish at the sight. Your hands shook as you pulled his small, limp body into your arms, holding him in an embrace as you sob.

His fur was darkened in harsh line, and you knew someone had purposely run over him with a carriage. He knew better than to play on the road, but being an older dog, he wasn't as quick as he used to be. 

He was your life. 

Rhubarb still had years ahead of him, running past your feet and stealing fishes from baskets. Who would be so cruel to run over a dog? On purpose? 

The tears wouldn't stop falling. Was this your curse in life? Everyone you loved being taken away from you?

No. 

If there was a way to bring him back, you will have to try. 

You wrap Rhubarb in one of the new blankets, careful not move too quickly. There was only one destination on your mind, and you hoped the baker was right. The rain had soaked through your dress completely, clinging to you like a second skin.  

Your hair blew in the wind, tangling into a mess, and tiny sobs still escaped you as you cuddled your beloved friend in your arms. 

You weren't sure how long you had been walking for. Minutes? Hours? It felt like days by the way you shivered in the storm. In reality it had only been twenty minutes, but each step felt like an eternity. If this didn't work, you didn't know what you would do. 

The sky had long since turned dark, and you felt no fear as you walked. Finally, light could be seen ahead, and you silently prayed to whoever was listening that he was home. Lighting struck from behind you, and your breathing came out harshly as you trudged up the hill. 

You wouldn't be surprised if he couldn't hear your kicks against his front door over the sound of thunder. Your hands were full, and you were sure your toes would be bruised over how hard you kicked. 

The door didn't budge, and so you kicked again, over and over. 

The tears continued to fall, and desperation came out in small cries as your arms grew weak from the heavy weight. 

“Please,” You yell out. “I know you're in there! Please!”

The door finally opens, nearly causing you to lose balance. He stands in front of you, face full of anger at the intrusion. 

“What the bloody hell do you want?” He peers down at you in confusion, his eyes staring into yours. If it weren’t for the fact you were currently shivering and holding your deceased dog in hand, you would’ve said something about his unique appearance. “Well?”

“Y-you have to help me,” You held Rhubarb closer to you. “They s-said you could help!”

The man pays no attention to the bundle in your arms, instead choosing to shut the door. He doesn’t get the chance however, as your foot wedges itself before it could close.

“What are yo-“

“He didnt deserve this!” You cry, ignoring the pain shooting up your leg at the sharp movement. The rain pours even harder, and there’s not one part of you dry.

“He?” The man questions, and instead of replying, you peel back an edge of the blanket, revealing a limp paw.

His eyes narrow slightly, before he looks back to you. “What are you asking of me here?”

“I think you know exactly what I’m asking.”

“The last time I helped somebody,” He shakes his head. “It didn’t work in my favour. Leave.”

“I will pay you anything, I will slave away in the kitchens if I have too,” Begging was your last resort. “I will give you myself for Christ’s sake! Just please help him!”

He sighs, his head looking towards the ceiling as if in deep thought before letting the door open again. He steps aside, signalling for you to enter. You do so quickly, immediately feeling better at the warmth. It didn’t help that your clothes were completely drenched. Gods, you probably did look like a witch right now.

“Well?” The man says from behind you, and you turn your head. His arms are outstretched, asking for you to pass the animal over.

Your teeth clatter as you shiver yet again, but you gently pass Rhubarb over to the stranger. He takes him with as much care, and your hands immediately begin to rub at your upper arms for warmth.

He begins to walk away, further into the house and you follow suit. A cat runs past your feet as you pass through a hallway, and it’s then you notice half her face missing. It surprises you to find that you’re not scared, and the further you look around the more you begin to notice plenty more pets.

“Don’t pay them any mind, they won’t harm you.” The stranger mumbles ahead, and you whip your head in his direction.

“I’m not worried, they seem pleasant.” Your tone matches his, and he chuckles. He stops, turning his head around with a forced grin.

“Pleasant. They’re dead. They don’t like strangers, so don’t get too comfortab-“ As if on cue, another cat rubs their head against your leg, and the stranger frowns. “Well that’s new.”

“Most animals like me, even the dead ones I guess.” You shrug, bending down to pet the cats head. It’s stomach is exposed, and your heart aches knowing the animal must’ve suffered before meeting the magic man.

“And this one?” He nods towards the bundle in his arms, and your bottom lip quivers. He begins to walk again, and you wipe away a stray tear.

“T-that’s Rhubarb,” You stand, following once more. “I’ve had him since I was young.”

“So old age got him then.”

“No,” The man was taken back by the sudden change of your tone. “Someone in the town killed him on purpose, they don’t like me and they certainly didn’t like him.”

“Bastards.” His jaw clenched at the news.

“I guess it was easier to kill my boy than it was to kill me.” He nods in agreement.

“They’re scum, all of them.”

It was your turn to nod. Finally the two of you came to a room, a stone table laying in the centre. Various knives stood at the side, and your stomach dropped.

As if sending your unease, the man shakes his head. “I’m a forge master, there is no need to worry about those.”

It didn’t exactly help calm your nerves, but realising the man was actually a forge master and not some magician made more sense. Forge masters weren’t exactly liked in the world, much to your confusion.

“I’m Hector,” Hector places Rhubard down on the table, removing the blanket off of him. “And you are?”

“(Y/N),” You stood in the back as Hector moved around. His movements were graceful, and your chest tightened at the site of your beloved pet. “I moved here recently.”

He chuckes. “I thought as much, we don’t get many of your kind here.”

“My kind?” The air turned colder by the second, and you slowly made your way to the fireplace in an attempt to warm up, keeping your eyes on the forgemaster.

“Good-hearted.” His hands rest of Rhubarbs stomach, petting him as if he were alive.

“How do you know I’m good hearted? I don’t think even forgemasters can read souls.”

“You offered me your body in exchange for your dogs life,” He looks back at you with a genuine smile. “Not many people would do that. No sane person at least.”

“Most sane people have others in their life to keep them as such, I only have him.”

“Well let me just say that there will be no need for such payment, I can see you care deeply for him.” Hector reaches for a peculiar shaped coins. “But you may want to look away, it gets quite bright.”

You do as he says, choosing to look at the fire. The room grows dark as Hector works, and you close your eyes, silently hoping for success. Minutes go by, the sound of metal on metal ringing through your ears as you breathe out quickly.

The ringing continues for sometime, before the whole room goes quiet. The only sound heard is the cracking of the fire, that is until a familiar bark startles you.

Your eyes open, and you’re met immediately with a beagle at your feet, jumping onto his hind legs in an attempt to climb on you. You fall to your knees, your arms surrounding Rhubarb as he licks at your cheeks. His eyes are no longer a dark brown, instead a shimmering blue. You didn’t care, all that mattered now was that he was alive.

“Oh my darling boy,” You cried, letting the small dog climb into your lap. “My sweet, sweet boy.”

Hector wipes his hands with a clothe, before clearing his throat.

“You have to let me pay you somehow,” You sniff as Rhubarb continues whining for attention. “You have a gift Hector.”

“Others don’t think so.” He laughs, throwing the clothe onto the table.

“The others can go jump off a cliff for all I care,” The beagle in your lap jumps away, turning his attention to Hector for pats. “You saved him, that matters to me.”

“Yes well right now you’re getting my floorboards wet,” Hector kneels down to Rhubarbs level. “So if you’re wanting to pay me somehow, you can pay me but dressing into something more comfortable and staying.”

Your stomach drops at his words, and as if realising his own innuendo, he stumbles over his next words.

“N-no not like that! I just m-mean it’s too dangerous to return home right n-now,” Hector coughs, his cheeks turning a small tinge of pink. “You know with the storm in all, and it would’ve been a w-waste of both our efforts tonight.”

In just a span of a few minutes, Hector went from a cocky forgemaster to a blubbering mess. It made you giggle, and he releases a few small chuckles himself as he scratches the back of his neck.

“Alright, I’ll stay.”

[daughterofzagreus]

The Astrological Signs of "Avatar: The Last Airbender" characters

Part 1 - Team Avatar

♎ Aang - Libra

Libra is an air sign and Aang is an airbender. More than that, though, Libra (represented by the scales) is the sign of harmony and balance. As the Avatar, restoring and maintaining balance is Aang's primary duty. Aside from all that symbolism though, Aang's personality is a lot like a Libra.

Libra is the opposite compliment to Aries, a war sign. Libra don't really like discord (at least, they don't like to be IN the discord and chaos). They're lovers, not fighters, so they tend to be peacekeepers. This is Aang to a T. Aang is not only one of the youngest characters in the show (and therefore, the most likely to be uncomfortable with violence), but he is also a monk, raised by other peaceful monks.

He values peace and all life. Even his fighting styles are evasive and are more about using an opponent's strength against them, rather than attacking. It's something that is brought up in the Book 2 episode "Bitter Work", when Aang has trouble learning earthbending from Toph. Libras (depending on the rest of their chart, of course) often tend to respond to conflict in a similar manner, by being avoidant.

You see the pacifist in Aang anytime he needs to mediate a conflict. Examples include "The Great Divide" in Book 1, where Aang has to mediate between the two tribes (as well as Sokka and Katara). He does so by telling them that "Harsh words won't solve anything. Action will". Of course, when that doesn't work, he just lies and makes up the alternative story of WeiJin and JinWei. I don't think Aang is a big fan of lies, but it was for the sake of peace, a means to an end. Very Libra.

Another thing that makes Aang a Libra is the fact that 1) Libra is ruled by Venus and 2) Libra rules the 7th house, which is essentially relationships. Aang's relationships (platonic and romantic) mean EVERYTHING to him, and there's a reason why putting one of his loved ones in danger is initially the only way to activate the Avatar state. He's a very friendly, charming and loving kid (like most Libras) and he's the first one from team Avatar who believes they can make it through the secret tunnel, because of how strongly he believes in his love for Katara. The final point is Aang's reluctance (or sometimes downright refusal) to cause harm to others unless absolutely necessary. While others use violence, Aang is more likely to want to befriend his enemies, and that's actually a good thing. It's Libra's superpower.

♋ Katara - Cancer

Cancer is a water sign that is ruled by the moon, and Katara is a (very powerful) waterbender who draws her powers from the moon. In astrology, water signs are known for being on the emotional side. And with Cancer's ruling planet being the moon (the planet of emotions and also the celestial body that pushes and pulls the tides), Cancers are known to be so emotional, that they're often just archetyped by it. Katara is similarly emotional (see the Book 3 episode "Ember Island Players"). However, Katara being so in touch with her emotions also makes her extremely emotionally intelligent. Like Cancers and most other water signs, her heightened sensitivity allows her to almost psychically sense how others are feeling, and to know how exactly to respond to and comfort them. There's a reason why Katara has such great chemistry (when it comes to her one-on-one conversations) with so many people (Aang, Haru, Jet, Zuko, Toph). Her emotional intelligence also makes her very mature for her age and allow her to see things clearer than others, or to foresee things that others don't.

Cancers are often either family oriented, or they love and value their home (this can either be their childhood home, current home, or the city, country or culture that they came from). This applies with Katara. As a waterbender, being from the water tribes is a big part of who she is, and she has a deep love for her culture. We see how being the only waterbender in the South Pole and having no one to show her the ways of waterbending saddens her, and how happy she is to hear that Hama is willing to teach her (the only other waterbender from the Southern water tribes that Katara has ever met).

With regards to Katara being mature for her age, she's also very motherly. The Book 3 episode "The Runaway" (as well as most of her interactions with Toph) demonstrates this. The moon (which rules Cancer) is The Mother in astrology, and so most Cancers have a significant relationship with motherhood. Katara was very close to her late mother and her death still affects her.

Following the death of her mother, Katara has basically had to become everyone else's mother and hold things together. You see this as well (in a more positive light) in the Book 2 episode "The Desert". In this episode, Appa is missing, Aang is too upset to think or act clearly, Toph can't see properly because of the sand and Sokka is high off cactus juice. Katara is the one that is keeping everything together in this episode.

On the downside, Katara's mothering can turn to nagging sometimes, but I don't blame her. She's a child that's had to grow up way too fast. She has a lot of pressure on her. With water, that pressure can build up, until it bursts like a dam wall (which it's likely to do). It's the combination of this, as well as Katara's strong and fearless sense of right and wrong that lead to those cataclysmic outbursts that both Katara and water signs are sometimes known for.

♋♐Sokka - Cancer sun, but with a lot of Sagittarius aspects in the birth chart

Okay, let's start with the Sagittarius side of things. There are a lot of elements of the Sag personality in Sokka. For one thing, luck. Not only does he manage to survive (and thrive) in the entire series WITHOUT any bending powers, but that boomerang ALWAYS comes back! That's some Jupiter-luck energy if I've ever seen it.

Sokka was originally going to be a more serious character, but the voice actor decided to improvise and add some of his own humor to the role, which created the Sokka that we know and love now. I mention this because the voice actor (Jack De Sena) is a Sagittarius. Sokka has the kind of personality that provides humor in difficult times and can lighten up the sometimes very heavy atmosphere in the group. He doesn't just make people laugh, he likes to laugh as well (at his own jokes and even at his enemy's jokes). In the book 3 episode "The Ember Island Players", heeven goes to the effort of getting Suki to sneak him backstage, so he could give the actor playing himself some tips and extra jokes (and low and behold, the crowd actually laughs at them). In his words, he's "just a guy who loves comedy". In fact, I think he's one of the only ones there who just decides to kick his feet up and enjoy the show (by basically turning the situation into a date night for him and Suki). Sagittarians love to laugh and make people laugh. They're optimists who like to have a good time, and are likely to be the make-lemonade-out-of-lemons type.

He's also one of the smartest and most competent characters on the show. He has excellent problem solving skills, and isn't afraid to look at things through a different angle and try new things to expand his worldview and knowledge. This is relevant, as Sag rules the 9th house which includes, amoung other things, higher learning, truth and knowledge. He can be a bit tactless and insensitive...a little slick at the mouth, but it's largely ignored by others, as he is likeable and funny enough for others to let it go. That's quite a Sag trait.

The Cancerian part of Sokka's personality is less pronounced, but it's there. He's VERY protective of his loved ones, even before the situation with Princess Yue. He is family oriented in that he admires his dad and the traditions and customs of the water tribes. He loves and is just as proud of his culture and home life as Katara is, but just in a different way. He also always looks out for the other members of team Avatar. He can tell when a member of the team needs support and immediately jumps to action (for example, the way he immediately grabs Toph's hand to guide her in "The Serpent's Pass", in "The Desert" and on the air ships during the final battle in the series finale). He's also very loving and protective of his sister, despite how often they fight. Also, quiet as it's kept, Cancers are one of the funniest signs in the zodiac.

♉♈Toph - Taurus sun, but with a lot of Aries aspects in the birth chart

Let's start with the Taurus aspects. Taurus is not just an earth sign, it's FIXED earth. It embodies the firm stance and hardheadness of not just Toph, but earthbenders in general. Tauruses are very stubborn and like to do things their own way at their own pace. Combine that with the independence and confrontational nature of an Aries, and you've got Toph.

Aries value their independence, sometimes to the point of being selfish, which is what we get with Toph in the Book 2 episode "The Chase". In this episode, it's Toph's first time riding with the group, but it's also her first taste of freedom. Like an Aries, she hates the idea of seeming weak or helpless, and has to learn that freedom doesn't mean that she has to do everything alone.

As Toph shows us, there is, however, power and strength in valuing independence, so long as you're not insecure about independence or projecting. Toph is a wealthy, sheltered child who is blind, which, in most cases, would make her vulnerable. But it's not the case. Toph ran away once before when she was little, and that's where she learned earthbending from the giant blind moles. She learned earthbending not just as a martial art, but as an extension of herself and her senses, and as a way to see. She would have never been able to master doing that (nor would shehave gone on to do even greater things like train the avatar and discover metal bending), if she didn't have the will, bravery and self assurance to run away in the first place. That little pilgrimage (her life changing adventure, if you will...but still not with Zuko, I'm afraid😔) showed the value of independence. Of going out on your own journey of self-discovery. Much like how Zuko needed to be be alone for a while during Book 2 for his own journey of self-discovery.

Oh, speaking of "Zuko Alone"...

♈Zuko - Aries

Zuko's arc in the show shows us the transition from a dark-sided, low vibrational Aries, to a high-vibrational Aries at it's best: passionate, brave, protective, strong, innovative, a good leader, driven, energetic and independent. Zuko embodies many Aries (and general fire sign) traits, both good and bad. He can be impulsive, and doesn't always think things all the way through. Aries is cardinal fire, so it's about getting up and going, just DOING something. Zuko is known for never giving up. These are things that that Iroh, Sokka and Ursa have mentioned. Zuko is an impatient person and is very fiery, hot headed and reactionary even for a firebender.

His reactionary nature makes him prone to a bit of melodrama (and I imagine that's why it's so fun for Azula or even Iroh to get a rise out of him). This is definitely the case with Aries. They're not the only sign with a temper, but they are the most likey to cause a scene and storm off in a huff about it. Or challenge you to a fight. Zuko can't refuse a fight for the life of him. At least not until he evolves and figures out his ✨true destiny✨.

One the other hand, he also keeps that same fiery energy when it comes to defending those who can't defend themselves and fighting for what he believes is right. In these cases, he refuses to back down. Even if his chances of winning are low, he'll still keep pushing forward. That's the will, energy and drive of cardinal fire. Zuko just needs to chanel all that power into something useful and constructive, like creating change for the greater good, and not distraction. Like with fire in general, Aries (and Zuko) is useful and powerful, but requires direction, guidance and purpose, so as to not risk letting the fire run wild to cause destruction and devastation.

[themilky-way]

like water {din djarin}

gif credit: no-droids

pairing: the mandalorian/din djarin x fem!reader

summary: when the one person he cares about is threatened, he lets himself indulge in the aftermath of defending them. 

warnings: some violence in the beginning, choking (not in the fun way), depictions of scratches, punches, and minor abrasions; the reader is hurt basically. oh and mando’s gun bc yeah❤️umm that’s it i think? nothing too horrible tho but if this thing triggers you, please don’t read !!

author’s note: not to be conceited or anything (is that even the right word for it lol?) but im super proud of how this turned out! requests are open btw for anyone who wishes to submit anything (if unsure, just ask which fandoms)!

----------

cyar’ika-> darling, sweetheart

nothing in that exact moment had made much sense. one minute the most precious thing to ever exist to him was snatched away, and the next his hands were gripping the treasure beneath his holster. his knuckles were lily-white at this point, holding the gun as hard as his body would allow him to without crushing underneath him, and the urge to cock it made him visibly shake. he’d been given a command, and out of all the merciless men in the filthy galaxy, he needed to follow it, so his weapon of preference stayed where it needed to. 

the meager specks of emotion that still lived within him betrayed his prominent composure, the view in front of him blocked by the sudden glaze of his eyes. the small drops of saltwater puddled together in his now hazy orbs, holding on until it was nearly impossible to stay put and then rivered down his cheeks. the cause? well, you.

you were filling up the mandalorian’s line of vision, his eyes darting between you and the bounty that had gone wrong. an alienated hand was wrapped around your innocent throat, your feeble hands wrapped around its wrist in a dumb attempt to break free. the ground you were roaming on before appeared to be never ending, and in the same way, the darkened sky absorbed you whole. vertigo was now in full effect; any quick movement caused you to shut your eyes tightly and hope to the maker you’d get through it. it took a few seconds for you to regain your balance, a sharp pain pinging around your neck forcing you to find it. you half expected to be back on the mud again, to have the man you had spent the past year flying around with pulling you to safety. instead, you found din frozen in place, an instinctive action rooted in the steel handle of his pistol. he wasn’t moving, too scared to blink as if you’d disappear if he did. 

perhaps you were; someone like you seemed too good to be true. in all actuality, it may be that you were a fever dream, a celestial that had come down from the sanctity of your home to finally rescue him from his burdens. amidst his frantic glances, he reminisced every second he’d spent with you since your unforeseen arrival, and that somehow worked for him. the gears in his brain started to turn again, and with every ounce of his strength, he pounced on the quarry and did what he should’ve done the instant you were taken from him. anger took over his worry, the effects illustrating themselves in a collage of mitted fists and blood. the pistol residing on din’s waist was useless compared to his hits; the softened position of his jawbone was locked firmly as a result of his gritted teeth and he was going to need more than your delicate hand on his shoulders to ground his senses. 

the mandalorian never expected to succumb to anyone, nor to feel remotely joyful upon hearing someone’s laugh. the idea of kindling a relationship was ludicrous, utterly impossible if only he weren’t bound to the chains of his creed. oftentimes, he wondered if someone would one day traverse his path and make him question every moral he’d been taught. din had dismissed the thought, as any other member of his intricate society would have, but the wondrous insight depicting a different lifestyle always lingered faintly in his mind. 

today, the very same visions behind his recurrent insomnia framed themselves in a frail art piece. din’s focus laid directly ahead, the fingers navigating the center controls as tight as they’d been on his gun. his eyes deserved to rest, perhaps take in the splashes of color nature was offering him, but he landed them on the same lovely sculpture adorning his cockpit. 

you were seated in the chair adjacent from the pilot’s, with your knees closely tucked to your chest. one large scrape designed itself on your leg-a dull reminder of the ordeal you were involved in hours earlier-with flakes of arid blood protecting the wound. bouncing off the skin of your throat were shades of red and purple, now properly mixing into a deeper complexion that’d require you to hide it for some time. besides the scattered nicks living on your face, and the other couple dozen on your arms and legs, the outcome wasn’t as terrible as the one your attacker received. it was a rule of thumb to not mess with a mandalorian, much less with the pretty little lady clutching his arm as if it were second nature. the foolest of fools wouldn’t even have done such a foul thing, and this particular creature came to know the punishment for harming what wasn’t rightfully his. 

it truly amazed him; the way you seemed to be so unphased by a traumatic circumstance. the woman beside him-the same one who couldn’t sleep unless a window was open-had endured pain, and the marks on her skin proved themselves in jagged indications of it. through the darkened screen of his visor, din could make out your hands neatly intertwined around your folded knees, your chin simultaneously resting on top. you’d been as observant as you always were, hardly missing his actions as he navigated his newfound family to a safe stop. sure, you were unaware of the loving term he considered of you and the baby, but it didn’t hurt to keep it a secret, right?

“hey.” it came out more hoarse than he intended it to, but the emotion behind it flowed out nonetheless. “you okay?”

not really. i don’t feel good. it was easy to say exactly that, to speak the truth, but it was even easier to lie. for the sake of his own worry, at most. your eyes were still glued to his armor, taking in the rough outline of where you imagined his skin would be underneath, or moreso the abstract idea of feeling it with your hands. reflections of your yearning came and went like the mandalorian’s missions, almost impulsively at times, and the curious, teasing tilts his helmet would bid you only encouraged that craving. much like now; the black “T” of his expressionless face leaned to the side, asking you to earnestly respond. “mm, yeah. ‘m kinda tired, though,” you mumbled.

you threw him a lie and he caught it. “don’t lie to me.” din swiveled his chair to accordingly match the peripheral of yours, his elbows coming to rest on top of his beskar-clad legs. “can you look at me?” he inquired softly. then, his intent fell on the slow shift of your head and how it turned to face him, your cheek settling on your unscathed knee. a breath fell from his lips at the doting admiration swimming in your stare. “there she is,” he confirmed with an upward curl of his lips. “is there anything i can do?” it was sincere; a genuine concern to accompany his question. you hummed in response, fearful to accidentally voice the confessions you hid from him. you blinked once, twice, until his question became a plea. “please, cyar’ika.”

reasonably, you were too busy exploring the shape of his helmet, permitting your creative imagination to paint images of the man next to you; so when your ears perceived his sudden name of endearment, there was nothing amongst the stars that you could’ve possibly denied him from. “you’ve never called me that before,” you smiled, all big and brilliant. 

“i’ve wanted to,” the man replied. what resembled ages of pent up stress released with a few curated words. his muscles relaxed, something he never believed to be attainable given his vigorous profession. “god, i’ve wanted to.” 

he followed it with a humble laugh. a sound so familiar and warm, so genuine that it empowered your grin to spread higher. “by all means, keep saying it.” now it was your turn to nervously giggle, and him who embraced the noise with everything he could. a mutual infatuation, so wonderfully obvious, yet it was refused acknowledgment. “i think there is something you can do, though.” silence advised you to continue, “can i sleep with you tonight?” 

the misguided pieces of your minds’, maybe even your souls’, reattached themselves that very same night. as the both of you slept, hands, calloused and smooth, intimately merged against the cushions of the warrior’s bed. tender kisses planted to your forehead left electricity in their wake, and the dark ambiance of his dwelling favored the entanglement of your tired bodies. 

“i wish i could see you, din,” you sighed. the manner in which it was expressed, full of sleep and everything akin, urged him to lift your weightless wrist to his lips. 

“you’ll get to one day, cyar’ika. for now just let me hold you, yeah?”

[shadowsfiguresfigments-blog]

A good place to die Chapter 26 (smut)

Warning: Harsh language, violence, smut

He was all over me, literally. Whilst he kept my lips and tongue busy with his, his hands roamed across my body, gently caressing every square inch of it. The last tattered remains of my clothes fell off, but his silken gloves kept me warm against the cold air. I sucked on his lower lip to encourage him further, and in response he leaned into me. The sensation of his touch multiplied, and during a breath pause to draw breath I opened my eyes. Penny had sprouted another two pairs of arms, giving him a slightly spider-like appearance.

Whilst he played with my hair, he simultaneously worjed my erect nipples, kneading them; pinching them just enough to illicit a sweet stinging pain. And all the while his hands wandered down further, along my hips, in between my thighs. I pressed harder against him, the familiar desperate yearning overcoming any sense of self-control I had left. There needn’t be any more barriers between us, nothing to separate us – I had been inside him, literally, for fuck’s sake – and I tore at his clothes, fighting against the last veil of silk that stood between us.

His chuckle was barely audible, more of a deep rumble that went through his body right into mine. The hands in my hair disappeared and the pressure against me lessened, but before I could protest his fingers slipped inside me. My insides clamped down on him in an unconscious effort to pull him further along, and their effort was rewarded; Penny’s finger went deeper and deeper into me, as if they were growing in length. The weirdest sensation filled my stomach – his gloves, he must have popped his gloves – and a heartbeat later he touched that sweet, sweet spot.

I screamed as the orgasm hit me like a sledge hammer, but Penny was nowhere near done. His body pressed back against mine, finally rid of clothes and all decency, and he held me so tight I was no longer able to breathe properly. He was still mercilessly working my pussy, but another hand made its way between my ass cheeks. I briefly and very feebly thought about protesting, but in response he pressed against my G-spot again. Whether it was because I was dripping wet or by some transformation of his, his fingers quickly spread some hot liquid around my asshole. Then he inserted one.

One moment, there was the sensation of having soiled myself; then he pushed through the barrier and there was some pain. It didn’t last long, though, as having him inside both front and back quickly overwhelmed me. Still, it wasn’t enough for him. His tongue swelled up, almost forcing my jaws apart, and picked up the rhythm of his fingers as it thrust deeper and deeper into me. As he had swallowed me whole, enveloping me completely, he now filled my up with himself in every way possible. I no longer could feel any ending to my body, nor the beginning of his; all of my senses were filled with him alone.

Again, there was a brief pause as he withdrew his fingers from my pussy, then he shoved his dick into me. I came immediately, and this time it lasted. Wave after wave hit me, eroding my sense of self further and further. Something was different from all the times we had had sex before – something inside me had changed. It resonated with Penny in a way that was difficult to understand – like two sound waves with just the right frequency to suddenly amplify each other.

That resonance almost tore me apart, and I screamed on the top of my lungs as Penny shuddered and came.

The following week was entirely governed by the last minute preparations for both Bee’s return as well as the store opening, which would coincide. With Auntie’s help I fought my way through the rooms and seemingly unending layers of garbage and dirt. Thankfully Bee had already declared her intentions to renovate the whole apartment by herself, and she had spent countless hours picking colors and some new furniture from catalogs. The little insurance money she got wouldn’t allow for much more, but her DIY-attitude had significantly improved over the last days. We just made sure the dirt was gone and that the facilities worked; which they did. Still, by the time I was done every evening I did little more than hit the shower and fall into bed.

Penny found his own way to keep me company – he usually waited in my room, made good use of the phone I had gotten him, and occasionally accompanied me on my ways in the form of a big orange tabby. At night he would cradle me in his arms, making our fight seem like nothing more than a bad dream.

I didn’t have the energy to discuss it any further, either; nor could I bring myself to tell him I still felt rather overwhelmed by the sex we had had. It was a weird, uncomfortable balance that I just couldn’t deal with.

He had carried me home that night, wrapped into silk-like sheets he had miraculously produced, and he had washed me in our tiny shower. I was still entirely beside myself – I didn’t even spend a thought on auntie – and just stood there as he rinsed away his cum that poured out of my body.

He even tucked me into bed.

When the big day finally arrived, I was too tired to feel the least bit excited. I almost fell asleep twice during school, but fortunately no one noticed. It was Friday, and I was excused for the last lesson (P.E.), so I got to leave early. That also meant there was no chance of any potential bully waiting for me, and I didn’t bother checking my bike for any manipulations, as there hadn’t been any for quite a while. Of course, that didn’t turn out too well – somebody had opened the valves of my tires, and by the time I got to the shop, there was no air left in them. I didn’t care, though, as I had to prepare the little buffet auntie had organized for me (nothing major, just some tea and coffee, and some cupcakes she had surprised me with in the morning). After I finished that, I went through the registry and my documents for the last time, in a desperate attempt to not think about Penny and focus on the task at hand.

A quick glance at my watch told me that I had about fifteen minutes left before the official opening hours started. I briefly wondered whether anyone would show up at all – Auntie and I had invested in some flyers, and we had distributed them both at her working place as well as my school. I had also thrown the remaining ones into random mail boxes on my various ways. Despite that, my reputation might very well end up keeping any potential customer from actually seeking the store – my store, I reminded myself – out.

For the first time in a long while I thought back to Yaneesha, Shot and the other idiots that despised me so much. The reason for their unwavering hate was still very much of a mystery to me, but I couldn’t bring myself to wish them harm. After all, they had ultimately suffered bigger losses than I did, and ever since Yaneesha had left school, I hadn’t been physically attacked anymore.

At least not by humans.

I sighed and unlocked the doors.

To my big surprise a couple of people entered while I was putting out the huge board I had painted. They roamed around the shelves, and a tiny silver-hair lady even told me how happy she was that the store was open again. I vaguely remembered her face and came to the conclusion that she was one of the very few somewhat regular visitors. Didn’t she have a fondness for novels? I directed her towards some new arrivals, which prompted my first successful sale.

It was somewhat difficult to believe, and the whole situation felt unreal. Something about the ordinariness was quite at odds with the crazy circus my life had become. I answered questions, recommended books, and made a couple of other sales. It wasn’t much, but still a whole lot more than what I’d expected – nothing.

Auntie joined me after I had been open for ninety minutes, and I could tell how tired she was. We both forced smiles, and despite my best efforts, she insisted on staying with me, though her face grew paler by the minute. Just when I had convinced her to sit down and stop fussing, her face lit up with recognition.

“Oh, you didn’t tell me he was coming. How nice!”

I whirled around just to see Benny-Penny standing outside the store, a red balloon on a string in his hands. For some reason that really touched me – I was just glad auntie sat behind me, so she couldn’t see the stupid smile spreading across my face. I rushed out and grasped his hands.

“I’m so glad you’re here”, I gushed. “I can’t believe you’re willing to go through this… Are you okay?”

He nodded, a familiar twinkle in his eyes, and handed me the balloon. It even read “Congratulations” on it. After quickly wiping my eyes I ushered him inside, ignoring the weird vibrations that built up in my stomach.

Penny looked utterly out of place, a wonderful mixture of awkwardness and otherworldly beauty that was just a tick off – probably not enough for anyone to realize but enough to cause the other visitors to show signs of unease. It was almost comical – a guy in a rather fancy suit started fiddling with his tie, a young girl put her jacket back on, and a group of teens moved closer together. Despite the fact that it wasn’t a good thing unnerve the people who I was supposed to sell to, it was still entertaining to observe. And I couldn’t help myself but marvel at his human form; the way his muscles visibly moved beneath the thin, tight sweater he was wearing; the way that ass looked in that pair of jeans; the way his movements were still the same as in his clown form.

I quickly went into the back room and tied the balloon to my backpack, not wanting to leave Penny alone for too long; but by the time I had returned he sat beside auntie and they chatted away merrily. He laughed – that wonderful, over-the-top crazy laugh of his, and shook his head. Auntie smiled, said something and started chuckling. For a moment she looked much younger, the stress lines fading, and my heart started hurting again.

How I wished I could see her like that every day.

I joined them, but I admittedly didn’t pay much attention, nor contribute much to the conversation – I was just content to see auntie and Benny-Penny happy. My odd behavior wasn’t noticed, though; Benny told one joke after another, and soon, my costumers had circled around us, joining in on the laughs. From time to time I could have sworn I saw a glint of something in Benny’s eyes, but it always disappeared so quickly I couldn’t be sure.

It was a rather pleasant experience to have him around. Time flew by quickly, and making sales felt like something I did on the side whilst I was mainly focusing on Benny. Finally the last pulk of people left the store, and I waved after them. Auntie stood up and started cleaning the buffet table; throwing away crumbled napkins and stacking plates. I offered to help, but she refused me; so I started counting the money I had made. When she left to bring the plates upstairs to the apartment, I dropped all pretence and threw myself into Benny’s arms.

“Thank you for coming”, I whispered, somewhat at a loss at how to convey the deep gratitude I felt.

He just patted my head, but I could feel how exhausted he was. I understood all too well – being around other humans and having to act normally was difficult enough for me, and I was part of their race. I reached up and cradled his cheek in my hand.

“I will make this up to you, I promise.”

Benny’s head shot up so fast I didn’t realize he had moved for a second.

Something was wrong.

His face had become devoid of emotion, the smile that had just been there completely gone, and there was an orange hue in his eyes. He stood utterly still.

“What’s the matter?”

“One of them is coming closer.”

“Who?”

“One of them.”

It took me a second to put his words and his behavior together.

“You mean… the ones that hurt you?”

He nodded, his eyes turning ever more orange. I took his hands and pulled him around to face me.

“Listen, if you need to get out of here, go. But I don’t think you’re in danger – you look like a human, you’re in a fucking bookstore, and besides, I’m not going to let anyone hurt you, okay?” That had absolutely no effect whatsoever. He was still as tense as before. “Penny, I promise, you’re safe.”

He slowly lowered his eyes, exhaling loudly. Not even a second later, he tensed up again. This time, he was watching someone outside. I turned around and saw two young men walking down the street. They held brown paper bags and yelled loudly, pushing each other constantly. My somewhat rusty instinct for bad situations told me they were trouble.

“They want to trash your shop.”

I didn’t even question him; I was too focused on the fact that they had changed direction and were now clearly walking up to us.

“I won’t allow that.” I reached into my pocket for my phone, with every intention to call the cops, but this time, Penny grabbed my hands. He had the weirdest little smile, and his left eye started drifting to the side. For some reason, I got goosebumps. I could only watch as he left me and stood in front of the duo. They shouted something, he replied, and the three of them walked away.

What was I supposed to do? I still had my phone in my hand, and I contemplated dialing 911. But what should I say? That I had possibly evaded big trouble? That my killer clown boyfriend had just left with the troublemakers and they’d better start searching for the leftovers, if there would be any? And that Pennywise might be in danger? Hello officer, you know, there’s this creature that kills and feeds on humans, and I love him very much, and he got spooked, so could you please start an investigation, and by the way, clean up after him?

“Where’d he go?”

Auntie had come back to me and looked out the door. I shook my head, gathering my jumbled thoughts.

“Oh, his mom called, he’s supposed to help her with something.”

“It was nice of him to stop by.”

“Yeah, very nice.” I still stared at the corner around which they had disappeared, as if I could make my gaze bend around it to follow them and make sure everything was okay.

“Is everything alright? Did you quarrel?”

“Oh no, I guess I’m just… a little overwhelmed with everything.” My attempt at a reassuring smile was bad at best, but somehow auntie bought it.

“Oh well, it’s been some hectic weeks for both of us.”

I nodded. A quick glance at my phone told me it was time to close down. That, thankfully, wouldn’t take long. However, there was still-

“Look who’s come!”

For the second time that day, a very welcome visitor approached the store. This time it wasn’t my favorite alien killer clown, it was Bee; with a large suitcase in hand and a warm smile on her face.

[orsuliya]

Since you do such detailed asks and give a well thought out answers, I want to know your opinion on the Ma brothers. Zilong, Zilu and Zitan. What do you think about them?

Ah, our three intrepid Ma princes... Wait a minute, why three? It's not like we're in a fairytale and while Zitan is certainly a fool, he's not nearly good-hearted enough to play the role of Ivan the Fool.

But seriously, it seems mightily suspicious of Daddy Emperor to sire three sons in quick succession and then, as far as we know, never ever procreate again. He's an Emperor and obviously fertile, so how come the imperial nursery remains so glaringly empty? Could it be that he has no concubines at all except for his beloved Xie Guifei?

Or... has the Empress been aborting babies left and right, and poisoning her way through swathes of women to boot? Not impossible, knowing her temperament, but it doesn't really make sense within the dynamic presented in the drama. Drama!Emperor hates, hates, hates the Wangs and especially his wife, so it's hard to believe he wouldn't have used this juicy tidbit to weaken their influence. In the book Wanru is allowed to run roughshod over Potato's concubines and feed them contraceptives willy-nilly, but that's because Potato doesn't really care. The Emperor, as we see him in the drama, would have found reason enough to care upon being given such an obvious opening to start a smear campaign against his favourite enemy. Stymying the imperial bloodline?! Why, I think it might be a crime and easily provable one at that!

This leaves the other option - perhaps there aren't any concubines in the palace or, if there are, they're not being, pardon my French, bred. It's not that multiple imperial concubines of lower rank aren't a thing in this universe - Potato gets at least two and possibly more after sitting on the throne for a relatively short time. It's a pity we don't know what's the policy on entering the palace. Is there a multi-stage selection process? There is certainly no indication of that! Xie Guifei might have been an attempt to balance out a Wang Empress, Seagull was Zitan's impromptu choice, Miss Screecher was meant to be chosen by Potato outside of any organized selection and the same could be true for Potato's other concubines. Our only outlier might be Zilu's Mom and even then it's rather doubtful she was ever processed properly as it would have required a lot of effort and luck to conceal an already existing pregnancy. No, Zilu's Mom was most probably a gift of 'peace' from one brother to another.

My guess as to what Daddy Emperor is thinking? If Zitan has been his preferred heir from the start and he very well might have been since it never had anything to do with Zitan's actual qualities, then it's possible that he simply didn't protest - or did so in a purely symbolic manner - when the Wangs started limiting his reproductive chances. Why breed competition? We already know he has no use for any sons lacking powerful backing of their maternal clans, see: his treatment of Zilu. And any son with such backing would be a direct threat to his favourite, not to mention a potential upset to the carefully maitained Wang-Ma-Xie balance.

...or it could be that Daddy Emperor really loved Xie Guifei and wanted no other. Seeing as he's strongly implied to spend his nights in her chambers twenty years after their only and last kid was born, this would make a staggering amount of sense. The same principle applies - he'd still not protest Wang tyranny over the inner courts, only he'd do it for Xie Guifei and not for Zitan. It does seem to fit with Daddy Emperor's general mindset. Let the others do open battle and exert all that effort, he'll just sit there, look sage and reap the benefits!

After this rather senseless and overly long prelude, let's finally get to answering your question. Mind you, those are not going to be organized, thoughtful opinions, just my subjective impressions on each and every Ma Prince.

His Imperial Spudness Ma Zilong

The not-so-little Potato that could not, but still tried! Let's start with the elephant in the room, namely his rapist tendencies or the lack thereof. See, I'm convinced that raping Awu wasn't actually in the cards, at least as far as Potato was concerned. Compromising her, sure, just lure her into an emptied palace and cry wolf. Outright raping her, no, if only because Potato is way, way too weak and soft to execute a plan this ruthless in its entirety. Besides, harming Awu to this extent would be risky as all hell and sure to provoke authentic wrath in both Daddy Emperor and Daddy Wang. The Empress is not stupid enough to give her husband the perfect excuse to do away with her son nor to alienate her main supporter in the same move. Even if she was able to force a marriage in the first place, Potato would be pretty much done for politically unless both Daddies suddenly dropped dead. The most she would be able to get would be a grandson in a privileged position, so she'd be back to square one, only with one more female to share power with. No, what Potato did and what Wanru suffered was mostly courtesy of Zilu's suspicious drugs. Not to say Potato isn't a rapist all the same, but I'd argue for diminished capacity.

As for Potato himself in his shining spuddy glory, I truly pity the man. From time to time we see glimpses of the ruler he could have become and whom he still tries to be, and it becomes clear that there was something there worth cultivating. The problem is that nobody could be bothered to even try. Daddy Emperor certainly didn't, leaving Potato pretty much to his own devices and believe me, it had nothing to do with his talents or the lack thereof. Do you remember that lovely family scene at the beginning of episode 1.? You know, the one where Awu, Zilu and Zitan lure Zilong into a trap and then leave him there to lie amidst icy rocks in the middle of winter? He could have easily hit his head and died right then and there. Or get pneumonia and die a little bit later. Does the Emperor care? No, not at all! Baby!Awu isn't that good of a liar, but even if she was, perhaps it would behoove him to actually investigate. Not from any kind of fatherly feeling, let's not expect miracles, but perhaps from political expediency? Yeah, no. And I doubt that was the only incident of this kind. Potato must have known even this early on that his father doesn't care for him, not even like an Emperor should for his eldest male scion. Moreover, there is no way Mommy Dearest wouldn't harp on about the Emperor's negligence in private, further affirming this awful truth in Potato's mind.

Mommy Dearest might care, but her care is no less toxic than Daddy Emperor's open negligence. Potato is her key to power, her only way to win the game of thrones and make all her sacrifices worthwhile... and this is exactly how she treats him. Oh, she loves him well enough as her son, clings to him in his role as Crown Prince and then Emperor, but she doesn't actually like him as a person. And oh boy, does it show! I get it, he's not this perfect shining prince that would justify her long years of suffering, but then I have this feeling she gave up on him the moment he showed himself to be perfectly average. Sure, she offers him (toxic) love and (conditional) support like nobody's business, but there's always this nasty undertone in their relationship. Mommy knows best, don't even try to think on your own, listen to me and only me. It's no wonder that Potato thinks he's perfectly useless and doesn't bother to try and better himself, if he knows that even his own mother sees him as a perfect nincompoop. Uncle Wang's open derision isn't helpful either!

And yet Potato is, deep down, a decent enough man. Better than the average Ma, I'd say. I mean, he has some scruples! They might be really, really tiny, but they're there, even as he's being subjected to a barrage of mental attacks from both his mother and his wife. Why, given proper support and a competent cabinet, he'd make a somewhat ineffective, but decent enough ruler, his handling of the flood crisis shows us this much. Potato's best quality is that he really tries. Oh, he fails, but he's no Zitan, content to sit in his room and mope while the country goes to hell. When it's important, he can make actual decisions! Which he may then go back on (or not), but it still counts. Also, he's not petty. Like, at all. He'd like nothing better than for everybody to get along and have lots and lots of plump babies. Even his decision to do away with Xiao Qi is not motivated by jealousy, no matter how hard Wanru and Mommy Dearest keep pressing on that particular button.

Is he childish? Yes. But then, he's never been given any real responsibility and for years and years languished under the care of a helicopter parent who never forced him to man up nor face actual reality, hence his disillusionment with Wanru, once she stops being this perfect smiling automaton. Is he selfish? Oh yes and it shows nowhere better than in his last will. But even so, such selfishness is pretty much par for the course when it comes to the Mas and at least Potato didn't wreck a country for the sake of personal spite, which puts him way ahead of his father, uncle Jianning and bro Zitan. And perhaps even cousin Zilu, who cared less for the country than for Huanmi.

At the end of the day, our humble root vegetable is a tragic figure. I can't help but pity him every time we see him bloom under somebody's attention. Give that man some respect and he'll pay you back with the same, weird comments about killing you nothwithstanding. And he did give us Miracle Baby, Our Lord and Saviour!

Our beloved Groomzilla, Ma Zilu

Daddy Emperor must have been stupid, high, blind or all of those in order to let Zilu and his beautiful brain slip through his fingers. He was right there, that defenseless, motherless boy and ripe for the taking too! If after years and years of being neglected and treated as an afterthought, after suffering an obvious slight of losing his love on Daddy Wang's say-so, after being allowed to supposedly run wild with no attempt at parental intervention... If after all this Zilu still craved his father's approval in whatever form he could get it, craved it so much that he allowed himself to be led into an obvious trap, then what kind of loyalty might he have offered, had somebody bothered to nurture him properly?

And it's not like his talents were easy to sweep under the rug. It's not until after he's an adult that Zilu takes up the pretense of being a never-do-well; during his adolescence he was still giving it his all, hoping in vain that his father might notice and offer him some sweet, sweet parental validation. Alas. The lack of powerful backing from his maternal family is an obstacle, but not if one actively tries to fight against consort kin clans and their influence. Or is it only the Wangs who are the enemy? Must be so, otherwise why the hell would one not see Zilu's relative independence as his greatest asset? You don't even have to make him Crown Prince to use him; just instill some sense of pride and validation, feed his need for attention and put him behind Zitan's throne. Okay, maybe don't do that last thing, deadly brotherly competition being a whole thing in palace environments, but still, use him! But no, Huanmi remained the only person to actually see and appreciate Zilu for what he was. Is it any wonder he was so absolutely loyal to her that even when it looked like she had attacked him with lethal intent, he still cared about her safety most of all?

And is it any wonder that he expedited his considerable will and brainpower solely for her benefit? I was absolutely floored when I realized that becoming an Emperor wasn't actually his ultimate goal - marrying Huanmi in the biggest, reddest wedding possible was! Even if he needed to drag the more august guests in at swordpoint. Not to say he didn't want to take the throne for his own sake; he absolutely did, but only as far as it served as a big fat fuck you to every person who kept dismissing him out of hand, so basically every person other than Huanmi. Taking the crown was a power fantasy, an idee-fixe of sorts, but for all that keeping a throne in one's basement can be seen as somewhat peculiar, there are very few - if any - signs of actual delusion in Zilu's actions. The throne is not a goal in itself, merely a way to achieve his primary goal, which is to marry the woman he loves, take revenge for Huanmi's sake as much as his own and build a life worthy of her. She's his Empress and by gods, she's going to be the real deal soon enough, no more cosplaying in private villas, however nice it might be!

Ma Zitan, the one and only Master of Mope

With every Ma Prince I become more and more convinced that there was something seriously wrong with Daddy Emperor's brain. Neglecting Potato makes some sense within the greater political picture, letting Zilu lie fallow is the height of foolishness, yet it's more a matter of criminal inaction than actively doing something wrong, but Zitan? Oh, there is no excuse for the way Daddy Emperor chose to deal with Zitan. If the Third Prince was truly his intended heir from the start and there is little reason to believe otherwise - if Wangs are to go then Potato is done for, Zilu was never even considered and Zitan remains the favourite long after showing his complete uselessness - why not try to prepare him for his future role? True, doing so openly might provoke the Wangs, but it's not like there aren't any ways to present such ruler lessons as something else, even a punishment. But no, let's just hope he turns out okay all by himself!

Now, logically reasoning, if Zitan was Daddy Emperor’s favourite and the prince he originally wanted as his heir, then Zitan should be given all possible help, right? So why wasn’t he taught any actual skills, whether in governance or in military matters? The thing is… they might have tried. In episode 61, when Zitan asks his faithful pair of retainers if he would be able to best Xiao Qi, their first answer is not that he’s the Emperor so it’s a given. Well, that too, but the first, immediate response? You studied the art of war. Which, okay, might be a reasonable guess when it comes to any prince, but those retainers are rather young and only recently-promoted. Before their soujourn at the Imperial Mausoleum they probably served somewhere within the wider imperial household, but not close enough to any great personage to be knowledgeable about what the princes might or might not have studied. Also, that answer, should Zitan’s lessons be limited to his early childhood, would make them look like idiots or bootlickers of the worst sort. But let’s say that Zitan actually studied the art of war and did so longer than his brothers. Or, alternatively, with more famous masters. That would naturally be a subject of some talk, if only within the imperial household itself. If so, then the female retainer, who seems rather astute in general, gave the best answer she could give.

Okay, so maybe somebody actually tried to help Zitan along. It still failed. Zitan at twenty or so is singularily useless and strangely unambitious, and no, calligraphy doesn't count as useful, not if one is an imperial prince and Emperor-to-be!

It's not Zitan's uselessness or even his refusal to feel any kind of reponsibility for his own people (as shown in the Huizhou arc) I have the most issue with. Although the latter is simply disgusting. And... really, really short-sighted. If Huizhou falls, as it surely must, Jianning and Co. get a clear way to the capital, leaving Xiao Qi to play deadly catch-up. Which means that Zitan's family is pretty much done for. Now, he might not care about Potato and Zilu, but surely he should feel something towards his father? Some filial piety, if not actual love? But no, screw the people of Huizhou and screw Daddy Emperor. Still, does he think that Jianning wouldn't pursue him to the ends of the earth in order to eradicate a potential claimant?

No, what really angers me is the way Zitan treats the women he claims to hold dear. And I'm not even speaking of Awu, although it's rather obvious that he cares little for her internality and rather more than is healthy for his idealized image of her. Xie Guifei dies for him, which is not his fault in the least... or is it? See, I'm pretty sure that Zitan's insistence on marrying Awu despite his mother's reservations was what provoked the Wangs to take certain... steps. Provoking a power struggle is all fine and good, if you're at least somewhat prepared for the consequences. Zitan is no fifteen year old well-bred young lady, he's an imperial prince right in the middle of a delicate balance of power, how the hell does he not know or care about possible ramifications? Naivety is theoretically not a crime, but that surely is criminal naivety. Which begs the question - how hard was that boy coddled by his mother? My guess is a lot. But Xie Guifei is but a trifle compared to the elephant in the room.

Xie Wanru. Xie Wanru, who supported Zitan as much as she could while being in a precarious situation herself. And whom he had no problems with asking for further support, going as far as to aim for the throne, disregarding her own and her children's potential interests. Xie Wanru, who didn't make the first move, even knowing Zitan to be a potential threat to her and hers. Xie Wanru, whose baby got a full portion of avuncular love in form of actual torture and was lucky to get away with his life. Xie Wanru, his sister, whose ghost must have screeched with fury upon hearing Zitan laud himself as this paragon of brotherly feelings in comparison to the well-intentioned Turnip.

Oh, and he just sat there like an offended child while the country kept sliding into chaos, simply because some evil old men didn't let him kill Cheng's entire army with his sheer incompetence. Those dastardly old bastards! Let them scramble around and let the people in the provinces keep dying; they all deserve this for not recognizing Zitan's awesomeness! I'm not saying he should have fixed everything. I'm saying he should have done the bare minimum. He killed a brother for that throne, now he should actually do something with it. Other than purposefully provoking the only guy who actually restored peace and stability simply because the man happens to be married to Zitan's first love.

I'm sorry, I cannot with Zitan. There's a lot more to be said about that twerp, much of which has already been said, but at this point refraining from plowing on it's a matter of mental hygiene.