#otherwise situations where one tries his best to be extra serious and the other tries his worst to de-escalate making the other mad af

[ndostairlyrium]

came for complaining, left without a nose

[fridayfirefly]

The Power of Luck [Chapter One]

Read The Power of Luck on AO3

Masterlist [All Works]

Masterlist [The Power of Luck Series]

Written for Maribat March Day 6 - Miraculous Side Effects

The Ladybug Miraculous had quite a few side effects. Marinette was able to think quick on her feet, she was a skilled tactician in battle, and her reaction time was half that of a normal human. Most notably, the Ladybug Miraculous granted its user the force known as Miraculous Luck, which, depending on the situation, was sometimes more of a curse than a blessing. Marinette didn't get to choose how that good luck manifested. For instance, when she needed an extra day to finish a history project, her school closed down due to a gas leak. Or when she wished for a fresh start after the defeat of Hawkmoth, her parents were offered a deal to grow their bakery business in America.

Marinette assured her parents that she didn't mind moving. After all, most of her class had already moved on. Lila had been deported to Italy, narrowly avoiding jail time. Chloé (much to her dismay) was sent by her father to an all-girls boarding school in England. Adrien was taken in by his Aunt Amelie (as Gabriel was in jail and Emilie was declared brain-dead) and moved to England as well.

No one else from Marinette's class left the country, but many of them moved out of Paris. Nathanial was accepted to an elite art school in Marseille. Max was accepted to a gifted program at an elite school in Bordeaux. Officer Raincomprix was transferred to Toulouse and took Sabrina with him. Juleka and Luka both started homeschooling after their mother sailed the houseboat down the Seine to the city of Rouen.

Worst of all was the loss of Alya. Her parents were horrified that the son of Hawkmoth was in the same class as their daughter, and promptly pulled Alya out of class and decided to move out of the city. Alya begged them for weeks but nothing came of her protests. In the end, Alya left too.

The Miraculous Luck could do a lot of things, but it couldn't keep her friends together. Those who remained at François Dupont filled holes in other classes. Marinette tried to make the best of her new class, but she felt no real connection to them. When her parents proposed the move, Marinette jumped on the opportunity. In Gotham, she wouldn't be haunted by the ghost of her old life.

Marinette cut her hair, leaving it choppy and just above the shoulders. She donated all of her brightly colored clothes to the thrift store down the street and created a new wardrobe for herself. It was toned down and mature, much more fitting for Gotham.

Marinette left Paris a much different girl than the naive fourteen-year-old who thought she could save the world. She was ready for a city like Gotham, a city that didn't make any promises, a city where Marinette could set down some new roots.

-----

At first, it was easy to fly under the radar at Gotham Academy. It was a school filled with the self-absorbed children of millionaires and billionaires, after all. Marinette was there on scholarship - her good grades, leadership experience, and working-class parents combined to cut her tuition down by 75%. Marinette quickly learned that scholarship students were at best ignored, and at worst mercilessly bullied. So Marinette kept her head down and vowed that she would get through the year unscathed.

There was one variable, however, that the Miraculous Luck wasn't able to account for. Marinette's entire plan fell apart thanks to one boy: Damian Wayne.

Marinette became acquainted with Damian Wayne through the school's rumor mill. She learned that he was one of the most wealthy and most attractive people in the school, but he was thought himself too good to spend time with any of his fellow classmates (Marinette couldn't fault him on the last bit; she also found the students at Gotham Academy to be difficult, to say the least). Marinette also learned through the school's rumor mill that Damian spent quite a lot of time staring at her. Given that Damian had never paid the slightest amount of attention to a Gotham Academy girl before, this was a big deal. Suddenly Marinette was the farthest thing from under the radar. Everyone who used to look down on her wanted to be her friend. It was exhausting.

Marinette resolved to ignore Damian Wayne - an easy task, given that she still didn't even know what he looked like. Now that everyone was staring at her, it was hard to

"Why?" grumbled Marinette. "Why couldn't my so-called Miraculous Luck help me get through one normal year of school?"

Tikki shrugged from her spot inside of Marinette's backpack. "Maybe all of this attention will turn out to be a good thing?"

"I doubt that." Marinette glanced around, checking that no one had spotted her talking to her backpack. There was one spot in the cafeteria that was hidden from view, a window-sill nestled behind a pillar, bordered by a wall on one side and an out of order vending machine on the other. Marinette sat on the window-sill every day to eat lunch, with Tikki as her companion for the meal.

"I think your problem is that you're overthinking this. Miraculous Luck always works out in the end, even if there are some obstacles in the middle."

"I just want this horrible school year to be over," sighed Marinette, setting her head down in her arms.

"Don't give up yet, Marinette. I have high hopes for this school year," said Tikki.

Marinette had some serious doubts but picked her head up anyway. Maybe this year wouldn't turn out the way she expected. Marinette defeated Hawkmoth, the greatest villain Paris ever faced. She could survive a year of high school.

-----

Marinette was going to survive her senior year of high school. Damian Wayne on the other hand... Marinette still wasn't sure if she was going to let him survive the year, after everything he put her through.

"Excuse me?" a sickeningly sweet voice piped up from behind Marinette.

Marinette put on her best disinterested-face, took out one headphone, and turned around. "Yes?"

There were three girls standing behind her: a blonde, flanked on both sides by a brunette and a red-head. The blonde girl had a smile on her face but a devious look in her eyes. Marinette had long ago learned to spot manipulators, and this girl had it written all over her. "Are you Marinette Dupain-Cheng?"

"Yes."

"My name is Julie Cooper. I was just wondering... Are you dating Damian Wayne?"

Marinette huffed in exasperation. "What do you think?"

Julie's eyes narrowed. "I just wanted to warn you. I mean, did you really think that Damian Wayne would seriously date a girl here on scholarship? You should break up with him before you get hurt."

"It was a rhetorical question. I'm not dating Damian Wayne. It's just a rumor."

Julie instantly perked up. "Oh, good! I was beginning to think that Damian had lost his mind. I mean, I'm sure you would be a nine or a ten at a public school, but at Gotham Academy, you're like a seven, maybe an eight on a good day. Most of the girls who go here are actually hot, not just," the girl waved her hand towards Marinette. "Above average."

Marinette wasn't sure if Julie meant for her to feel flattered or offended, but her words had the strange effect of making Marinette feel both all at once. "Um, thanks? I'm going to go now."

Julie's brunette friend suddenly paled as the girl started to tug on Julie's sleeve. "Um, Julie?" she whispered.

"What, Nora?" Julie's eyes widened as they fixed on something behind Marinette.

Marinette turned around to see what the cause of their concern was. Or rather, to see who the cause of their concern was. It was a boy, tall and scowling. "Are you done here, Cooper?"

Julia nodded, a nervous edge to her voice, "Bye, Marinette." She and her two friends hurried off, exchanging frantic whispers.

"What do you want?" asked Marinette with a sigh. She was tired of dealing with boys who were only interested in her because Damian Wayne was interested in her.

"I wished to apologize."

"For Julie? Did you put her up to this?"

The boy looked confused. "No, of course not. I meant that I wanted to apologize for everything, not just Julie Cooper."

"For everything?" The truth suddenly dawned on Marinette. "You're Damian Wayne! I didn't think that you would be so tall."

"You didn't know what I looked like?" There was real shock in his voice.

"Well, by the time I learned that you had been staring at me everyone was staring at me, so that wasn't much help in figuring out who you were."

"You could have googled me."

Marinette shrugged. "I could have, but it felt weird to google one of my classmates. I pretty much just resigned myself to never figuring out who you were."

"I should have approached you sooner. I've wanted to apologize for a while, but every time I've caught you alone you've looked like you wanted to be left that way."

"I'm not a fan of most of the students here."

"The students here can be..." Damian searched for the appropriate word. "Tiresome. I resigned myself to a dull four years of high school in their company. That is, until I saw you."

Marinette cocked her head. "Why me, though? I'm nothing special."

"You're different than everyone else here."

Marinette stiffened. "I know. I've been told. I'm here on a scholarship which means I don't belong," she snapped

Damian shook his head. "No, that's not what I meant. You move through life differently than all of the other students here. You don't care about the gossip or drama - at least, not until you were right at the center of it all. You've seen the real world, so you float above the high school drama. You're just so... so..."

"So what?" Marinette's tone softened.

Damian ran his hand through his hair, ruffling it. The addition of the messy hair added a certain charm to his otherwise polished exterior. "I've been brainstorming for the right word for weeks. The best I can come up with is pure. You don't let yourself become affected by anything in this school."

It was a very flattering description of her. It was also very on the nose. "I'll forgive you, Damian Wayne, but only on one condition."

"What?"

"I want to get to know you, and I have a feeling that you feel the same way."

Damian nodded. "It's a deal."

Maybe her Miraculous Luck wasn't so useless after all. Marinette had expected to go the whole year without making a single friend. Now, it seemed that she might make one after all.

@maribatmarch-2k21

[blue-mood-blue]

No one asked about the eye.

It wasn't something Peter Nureyev even noticed that he'd noticed, just another unnecessary piece of information filed away in the back of his mind for use later if he needed it. He was doing his best to stay out of Juno Steel's way, after all, ensuring that they weren't stuck in a room together alone and forced to make stilted, polite conversation; he rarely had reason to spare extra energy in observing the way the rest of their strange band interacted with Juno.

When he caught a glance at Juno rubbing his eye one morning under the patch, shuffling past where Peter was seated at the table and nodding along to whatever tangent Rita was prattling away about behind him while obviously retaining nothing, the thought occurred to Peter again: no one ever asked Juno about his eye. It went mostly unremarked upon entirely, even when "family dinner" devolved into "taking cheap shots at each other."

Like as not it was just good manners, Peter decided as he shifted his attention back to the tablet in his hand. It would be in poor taste to pepper someone with questions about a serious, visible injury, and if Juno didn't bring it up it hardly fell to any of the rest of them to bring it up for him. And Juno had been without an eye for some time - if he wanted a cybernetic alternative, he could have gotten one long before now. He could have listed it with his other requirements for working with Buddy's crew, even. That was his own business.

No one said anything about the eye - asked any questions, voiced any concerns, made any offers - and Peter put it out of his head. Peter put it out of his head when Juno forgot his patch and still seemed surprised to find an empty socket, when Juno’s depth perception still suffered despite the time he'd had to get used to it, when Juno took emptied cans from a meal and lined them up outside whenever they were somewhere with enough gravity to make it worth his while and practiced his shooting.

Juno went wide every time. And every time, Peter remembered his precise shooting from before, and felt a pang in his chest.

"He isn't getting any better." Peter wasn't sure why he spoke up, and to Jet, who seemed absorbed with whatever he was doing to the Carte Blanche while Peter idly watched Juno practice. He hadn’t meant to say anything, it was the kind of pointless sentiment that was best left in Peter’s head if it had to be anywhere at all, and it was a small mercy that he’d said so softly enough that Jet had plenty of room to pretend he hadn’t heard.

"He is not," Jet replied.

Should have kept his mouth shut, Peter thought, while continuing to not keep his mouth shut. "It's concerning that he hasn't improved by now, considering when he lost the eye. He might never get that sharpshooting back."

"He might not," Jet agreed.

"He could consider getting it replaced - the technology exists." Just because it would make their work easier, Peter justified to himself. The only reason he cared about Juno Steel's sharpshooting was because it might be necessary to save their lives at some point. Otherwise, he would leave well enough alone.

There was no reply from Jet, and Peter assumed the man had finally decided that the conversation wasn't worth continuing. He was surprised, then, when he looked up and found Jet regarding him seriously, that steady gaze unwavering.

"I do not think Juno would want such a thing. I would advise you not to mention it to him." Before Peter had the chance to ask what he meant, to figure out how Jet could have come to that leap of a conclusion when he barely knew Juno and certainly hadn't been there when he'd lost the eye, Jet stood up, collected his tools, and went back inside.

Peter watched another wide shot, lost in thoughts that didn't get him anywhere.

~~~

It was late, and the Carte Blanche was quiet, and Peter didn't know why he was awake.

It might have been that the bed felt too empty; a startlingly vulnerable conclusion, since Juno didn't spend every night there even after their conversation, but there was no point denying the possibility. More likely that he'd heard something, and the ability to wake quickly had saved him too many times for him to easily put aside the habit now. When he didn't hear it again, he rolled to the far side of the bed and resolutely tried to fall back asleep.

Five minutes later, with a put-upon sigh, Peter dragged himself to his feet. The idea of the empty bed had wormed its way into his head and he couldn’t stop thinking about the cold, extra space. It was ridiculous and mortifying that he was actually considering knocking on Juno's door in the early hours of the morning to ask for a space in his bed; worse that he knew he wouldn’t, and that he would never get back to sleep now that he’d allowed himself to consider it. Might as well find a distraction, since he was up anyway.

He'd already passed the living area on his way to the kitchen when he stopped, a delayed reaction to something sending a chill down his spine, and slowly walked back in. It was dark - the faint lights of the hallway filtered in and mixed with the ambient light from the windows, giving only just enough illumination for Peter to find what unsettled him. There was someone in there, on the couch, sitting straight as a mannequin who’d been positioned that way and whispering something in a low, unnaturally steady thrum.

Peter froze in the doorway. It was Juno.

He didn't seem right; it was a vague conclusion that didn't do the pit in Peter's stomach justice, but it was a hard thing to define besides a sense of wrong. The muttering and the blank stare told him that Juno was probably sleepwalking, or something like it; the rigid way he was sitting and his sharp focus on nothing implied something else. He hadn't reacted at all to Peter passing through the room, to Peter walking right in front of him and right past that focused, unfocused stare, and he didn't react as Peter quietly walked closer.

"Juno?" Nothing. Not a twitch to indicate he'd heard, not so much as a pause between the stream of muttered, whispered words. Peter crept closer, sat slowly down next to him on the couch, and as he was reaching up to touch his shoulder he heard what Juno was saying.

“Goodness-is-the-only-purpose-I-have-little-potential-for-Good-therefore-I-am-worth-little-the-Tower-has-great-potential-therefore-it-is-great-"

It all felt deeply, deeply unsettling. It was Juno's voice but not his words; the cadence was even and emotionless and mechanic, as if something else were speaking through him with no concept of how to be Juno. Peter's hand stopped because suddenly, foolishly, he was afraid to attract the attention of whoever it was sitting next to him. And just as foolishly, he was afraid to leave Juno alone and lost.

"It's a dream, Nureyev," he muttered to himself, disgusted that a simple act of comfort was beyond him, even momentarily. Juno was trying, and what was Peter doing? Sitting next to him, unable to touch him, useless to him. Ridiculous. "Just wake him up and maybe you can both get some sleep."

"Boss?" Peter nearly jumped out of his skin, and he jostled Juno next to him; in his focus on listening to what Juno was saying, he hadn't heard Rita walk in. She was rubbing sleep from her eyes, looking between Peter and Juno. "Boss, you feelin’ okay?"

"-systems-are-beginning-to-fail-Emotional-Danger-Avoidance-Protocol-has-been-deactivated-request-received-diverting-remaining-processing-power-from-pain-numbing-functions-"

"Oh." Rita didn't seem confused. Concerned, though, in a quiet way that was so unlike her it made Peter wonder what happened to people on this ship at night to change them so thoroughly. Or perhaps, not on this ship at all. “You better leave this to me, Mista Ransom. I mean, you could try, but he probably wouldn’t remember you and it’d get pretty confusing.”

The pit of unease at the bottom of Peter’s stomach was widening, quickly. He stared at Juno. “He wouldn’t… remember?”

“He gets a little scrambled when he gets like this - it’s not really surprising after spending all that time with someone talking at him in his head all the time, you know, he told me about what it was like and I don’t think I’d like it myself, someone tryin’ to tell me what to do -“

“What… what are you...” Peter shook his head. Not important. It wasn’t important for him to understand right now, while his questions would only leave Juno stuck in his own mind longer. “Can you help him?”

Rita smiled at him reassuringly, as if the situation had not left her terrifyingly out of her depth. All the better, Peter thought faintly, as he continued to sit by and be useless. “Oh yeah, I got him. You can go to bed if you want.”

Peter shook his head. He would not be sleeping tonight, not until Juno was well. He could think about what his inability to leave meant later.

"Must've been a bad day if you're dealing with this again, huh?" She was talking to Juno and he wasn't hearing her, so she sat on his other side and tapped him on the shoulder. He didn't react. "Mista Steel, it's Rita. You remember me, right? Rita's gonna get you outta there, don't you worry, boss."

"Ri-ta." He pronounced it like the sound was something strange and foreign, like he was making a first attempt to say something he'd never tried before. “Rita. Rita. Rita Rita Rita Rita...”

Suddenly, Juno's head snapped to look at her. It was unsettling; someone who was asleep should have been slower to react, but the movement was unnaturally swift. He looked right at Rita, and this time when he spoke, he almost, horribly, sounded like himself. He was smiling. "The net Good of: save the Tower and bring peace to every human in the Galaxy. Outweighs the net evil of: killing every person in this room, one by one, until you reveal yourself."

Rita just took one of his hands and patted the back of it. "Okay boss, that's real nice and all, but I'm sitting right here. You don't gotta lure me out, and besides we're not even there right now and we haven't been for a long time now. If you really wanna get back at me the only thing you can do is fire me, and we both know you’d never actually do that because then where would you be?"

The silence was so much bigger after her chatter; there was a tension in her shoulders that she wasn’t letting show on her face. And then the tension in Juno collapsed like a puppet with its strings cut, and Peter heard a beautiful sound. "Rita?" He sounded exhausted, but that was unmistakably and mercifully Juno’s voice. "What am I... doing on the couch?"

Rita's smile was big enough to light up the room - big and genuine and relieved. Peter wondered if she would ever explain what he'd just seen, and somehow he doubted it. "You promised to watch a movie with me and Mista Ransom, boss! And since you're awake now anyway and you always say you're too busy to watch a movie in the middle of the day I just thought we might as well watch something in the middle of the night instead, since all you're ever doing then is sleeping anyway -"

It didn't seem like he was keeping up very well with what Rita was telling him, but the mention of "Ransom" must have caught his attention because he turned around to confirm that Peter was there. Snapped out of whatever trap of his own mind he'd been caught in a moment earlier, Juno just looked tired; Peter reached for his other hand and gave it a squeeze, smiling in a way that he hoped masked his uncertainty. "Might as well watch something until we all fall asleep, hm?"

Peter wasn't sure if Juno was too tired to comprehend what either of them were talking about, or if he was just comfortable enough in their combined presence that it didn't matter that he didn't understand; whatever the reason, instead of answering either of them or asking any more questions he lay his head on Peter's shoulder and was almost asleep already by the time Rita got back with her tablet.

~~~

It was only a voice, robotic and designed to be soothing. The message calmly explained the steps of the security procedure before the event during the elevator ride, and Juno reached for Peter's hand.

His grip was tight and desperate, like a vice, but he wouldn't look over to Peter. He wouldn't explain if he could, wasn't allowed to explain here even if Peter was allowed to ask and they weren't already in their characters for the latest job. Juno wasn't ready to talk about it.

Peter squeezed his hand and took a step closer, disguised behind a subtle shift in his stance. "Just hold onto me, love," he muttered under his breath, hoping Juno could hear. "We'll make it through."

~~~

It was garbage television, what Peter finally settled on while he worked his way through an enormous bowl of ice cream in the preciously rare, quiet evening on the Carte Blanche. He'd probably have joined the festivities planetside if not for the badly-sprained ankle and cracked ribs, and he'd probably have been more upset about the whole thing had Juno not volunteered to stay with him. As it was, he allowed himself to enjoy the evening for exactly what it was - quiet and calm that he usually didn't get, and alone time with Juno with blissfully few expectations for either of them.

Juno had settled him in, placed the bowl and the remote in his hands, and kissed the top of Peter's head before promising that he'd be back in a minute. Peter took advantage of his absence to find something really awful to watch, fully planning to use his injuries as emotional manipulation if Juno started to complain. Remote privileges were rare in their strange little group.

He'd settled on a conspiracy program before Juno got back, a recent special set in Hyperion City - ought to be good for a laugh for Juno, too, who'd probably spend the entire time arguing with the host about everything she didn't know about the city he'd grown up in. Peter had seen the odd article about it circulating the tabloids - New Town, home of experimental brainwashing that no one could prove. As unlikely as it was interesting, far-fetched as it was entertaining.

Juno walked in as the theme started to play, already groaning. "I have no idea why you like this show. It's such a crock of shit and you know it." The criticism was tempered by good-natured laughter.

"Some of us like a good story well-told, Detective, even if it's not quite true." He smiled as he looked above him, where Juno was leaning over the couch... and stopped when he saw his expression. "Juno?"

Juno was staring at the tv, looking for all the world like he'd just seen a ghost. The program opened on a scene of former Mayor O'Flaherty, giving a speech about good to an awed and eagar public, specifically about creating a better home; Juno stared, so still and yet hanging on every word.

"Juno, dear? Are you... alright?"

He shook his head and cleared his throat. "Uh, what exactly are you watching?"

"That 'New Town' conspiracy, the one with the brainwashing." Juno didn't say anything, didn't seem to react in any way Peter could see. "Juno. Tell me what's wrong, please."

Juno rubbed at his eye, first over the patch and then under it, still watching the tv. The footage had changed from the speech to a dramatic shot of New Town's grand opening, played in slow motion with tense, swelling music to make the moment appropriately dramatic. "It's... nothing's wrong." He glanced down at Peter, and cracked an uneasy smile when he saw exactly how much Peter believed that. "Okay, nothing's wrong right now. It's just..."

"Just...?"

"A bad memory. A few bad memories."

Peter wasn't sure if he should ask, wasn't sure if he was allowed. Juno had put so much work into being open; wasn't it his part to respect the boundaries where they were, and to trust that Juno would talk to him when he was ready? They'd invested so much time and effort in building something that wouldn't collapse and hurt them both. So instead of pushing, he asks: "Sit with me?"

And when he does, Juno asks him: "Did I ever tell you how I met Buddy?"

When Juno starts his story, honest and well-told, Peter turns off the television to listen to him.

[allmightluver]

So, what is your take on the EM relationship? Who was the one to fall first and confess? Please support your speculations/opinions with canonical evident, if you'd like 😏 (BECAUSE YOU'RE SO DAMN GOOD AT IT ❤️) Thank you for your time 🙏

Oh goodness

You really want me to go all out huh Kunshi 😏

Well, I’ll try to summarize this as best I can ***(This may have some spoilers so be warned)**

The relationship between All Might and Eraserhead has been quite the journey. You can say, frenemies to “hey you’re not so bad”. They’ve known of each other for years, before the present timeline. Here in Vigilante’s, Eraserhead tells Tsukauchi that the situation they’re in is so dire, they need the Number 1. Aizawa acknowledges how powerful All Might is, despite disapproving of how handles media and fame.

But they didn’t really know each other until All Might started at UA. 

Aizawa believed Yagi to be reckless, irresponsible, and foolish in taking a job he has no training for. Not to mention the obvious favoritism. Yagi believed Aizawa to be too harsh and cold hearted on the children. Though as the two got to know each other, and went through traumatic events together (USJ and Kamino), they started to warm up more to each other, actually taking the time to get to know one another. 

All Might rushes to an injured Aizawa’s side, and the sight of how broken, bloodied and damaged his co-worker is visibly upsets him. The way Toshinori’s voice softens as he apologizes to Aizawa, unclear if it’s out loud or in his mind. Toshinori probably feels terrible whenever anyone’s been injured, but he seems particularly held up over Aizawa, most likely because he himself couldn’t be there when it happened. He was of being a hero all morning, and wasted all his time in his muscle form, so he wasn’t there with them like he should have been. Which meant Aizawa and (Thirteen) had to fight to protect the students, even if they were clearly unmatched. They were both badly injured in the process, all because Toshinori wasn’t there.

Then after the fight, Toshinori cuts his friend, Tsukauchi, off and asks how Aizawa, wait, Eraserhead, is doing. Oh and Thirteen too. He was relieved to find he they were alright.

When Kamino hit we see how intently Aizawa watches the news, watches All Might, watches Toshinori. He was clearly concerned, and in seeing AFO summon his many quirks in order to eliminate All Might once and for all, Aizawa’s concern only grows. And for good reason.

As an after effect, the students needed to move into dorms. Aizawa and Toshinori are paired together to speak to 1A’s students. It’s in the car that Aizawa, awkwardly, offers to buy Toshinori a drink. To which Toshinori politely declines, as he can’t drink. (*face palm*) 

However, after dealing with Bakugo’s...different family, Toshinori nudges Aizawa with an elbow his injured arm no less, and whispers that he now owes Aizawa a drink. 

Dunno about you, but I’d have to be pretty comfortable with someone before I’m close enough to nudge them and whisper secrets. And Toshinori is always seeking to know Aizawa better, be closer, impress him.

They even go out on a date to get a drink together.  Toshinori’s inner dialogue is the most interesting, from “I’m going to be even better friends with Aizawa-kun...!” to “All Might, you just gotta push past the walls of Aizawa-kun’s heart!” ...uh huh. To which Mic and Midnight totally crash their “Secret Dinner Outing” and invite themselves to stay, much to Toshinori’s (”Or on second thought...probably not then.”) and Aizawa’s despair (”Go home!” x3). Get outta here, you’re ruining our date!  And after Toshinori takes his leave, Aizawa chases him down outside to say....? “Thank you very much. I’m drunk right now so I probably wouldn’t say this if I wasn’t. But because you fought at Kamino and took down AFO for us, I’ll do my part and look after the students as much as I can. That’s why I want to thank you for everything.” To which after a silence, Toshinori responds with, “Aizawa-kun, let’s watch over the students from here on out together.” ...to which Aizawa mentions he won’t remember any of this and to never bring it up ever again.  (*repeat face palm*)

This only proves they’re becoming much, much, closer. They’ve gone beyond plus ultra frenemies and onto true friends. They take each other’s words and thoughts into account in a serious manner, like how Yagi managed to convince Aizawa to let him go to Bakugo and Midoriya when they snuck out, as well as going easy on punishment for them.

Aizawa’s also shown growing concern for Toshinori after his retirement. Firstly from seeing Toshinori out and about so soon after Kamino while he was still recovering from his injuries. And on the occasion a falling rock nearly connects to Toshinori’s head, you can see how quickly Aizawa reacts. The way you can almost see a flashback of his childhood friend’s unfortunate death running through his head as he tries to save Toshinori from the same fate. Once Midoriya saves Toshinori, Aizawa still reaches out to him, like he’s worried the man may get hurt, break, as he tells him that it’s not safe in this environment, and that Toshinori should leave, go where it’s safe.

When Aizawa couldn’t attend Bakugo and Todoroki’s extra classes, he asks Toshinori to go in his place, and even makes Present Mic go along as a body guard. He’s clearly concerned for the former hero’s safety and well-being. Toshinori now often fills in for Aizawa if he can’t make it to his own class.

When Midoriya’s new quirk is discovered, Aizawa takes Toshinori’s anxiety about the situation seriously, and they immediately go to put a stop to the training battle. 

But once Midoriya’s quirk settles down, Aizawa decides to let this play out, and calms Toshinori, saying he’ll put a stop to it if the situation happens again.

He later describes Toshinori as a genius, naturally talented, when explaining to Shinsou how he doesn’t expect the kid to be on the same level with the others in the hero course right off the bat. Aizawa has extreme respect for Toshinori.

The biggest moment between the two is late on a snowy night, when Toshinori sits outside in the cold, alone, contemplating...well, his life honestly. Aizawa find’s him, “there you are,” apparently looking for the taller man. Toshinori at first automatically deflects any questions about himself, and asks about the children. He then offers to help Aizawa with training Eri, in which the underground hero gladly accepts (something that Aizawa would not have done in the past, as he hated even speaking to the older man before). But Aizawa can see through the façade, and asks what’s wrong. Aizawa is one of, if not the only, person Toshinori confides in so deeply.  Horkioshi confirmed recently that of everyone (adults, I assume), pro heroes included, Toshinori is the closest to Aizawa. Toshinori decides he can trust Aizawa with his mental weights. He’s decided to live, but feels useless staying alive, powerless, unable to help anyone, or at least how the children need him to. 

Aizawa’s initially unnerved at the fact that Toshinori decided to live, as if the contemplation of otherwise was there. But he listens quietly, intently, to what Toshinori says. Finally, he tries to reason with the older man that being a workaholic, and never having time to rest, isn’t good either, points out that after holding up the country for decades, suddenly not having it has left an addiction. Toshinori doesn’t know what to do if he’s not running himself ragged. But also tells him that he is helping the students--by being alive, and by being here for them. There are a lot of people (Aizawa included?) that gain strength, just by Toshinori being there, alive. And he asks him to please keep on living and acting like his normal self. Toshinori’s overcome with emotion at his words.

For a relationship between the two, I’m sure they both would have had feelings for quite some time before ever admitting to it. Knowing their personalities, Aizawa would feel his feelings were illogical and deceptive. Toshinori is just a tad older than him, has met probably thousands more people than Aizawa ever will, and he was the number one hero. Falling for a guy like that just seemed too predictable and annoying. But Aizawa soon learns the differences between All Might and Toshinori, and while the latter still rubs him the wrong way at times, the tall, willowy man has managed to capture his heart. He feels compelled to care for the other, make sure he’s taking proper care of himself. And yet he tells himself it’s too invasive of the other man’s privacy; none of his business. When Mic and Midnight drag him to the bar and question him why his mood was off, he’d give no answer save for a shrug, and down another beer.

Toshinori would have feelings rather early, but most likely not realize they were more than just finally getting the grouchy Aizawa-kun to tolerate him. As weeks go by, he would catch his heart racing at Aizawa’s presence, blushing when the scruffy man would make tea for him after a coughing fit, and way too elated when Aizawa accepted the invitation for a drink together, alone. One night it would hit him just exactly how he feels for the younger man, and his heart would clench. Surely Aizawa couldn’t feel the same way, especially for a man as old, sickly, and awkward as himself. Even if it were possible, his own death is due to come within the next year, and he couldn’t do that to Aizawa-kun. He’d spend several nights fighting and eventually failing to quietly let his tears fall into the pillow below him as he tries to sleep, alone.

The two would cautiously work together, stepping around their own feelings to keep things normal between them. All the while Aizawa’s brain would fight against his heart, and Toshinori’s chest would tighten until a bloody cough was produced.

Finally, finally, after Mic and Midnight pry it out of Aizawa like a game of Operation, they force him to ask Toshinori out. It takes a week, but Aizawa finally finds the right moment to ask the former hero out for a drink and bar food. Glamorous as always, especially for a first date. But Toshinori gladly accepts, and spends the rest of the day convincing himself it’s just a friendly supper, between friends, not a date.

That night the two have a lovely evening of greasy bar food (which Toshinori politely only orders a small plate of fries, as there’s nothing blander on the menu) and beer (Toshinori also drinks a plain water). Aizawa apologizes for not taking Toshinori’s diet into account when picking where they met, and says he’ll let Toshinori pick the restaurant next time. Toshinori freezes at his wording. Aizawa’s quick to try and resolve, but Toshinori stops him. Asks him what exactly this is. A friendly dinner? Or something more? Aizawa buries into his scarf, and answers with a question in return; what do you want it to be? It’s then Toshinori sets his glass down, takes a moment to breathe, before spilling that he’d hoped it was a date. He’s bright red as he explains how he believes he’s developed...feelings over the months working together. That he wanted to go out again, but that he hadn’t wanted to force his feelings on Aizawa. Who would want someone like him?

These two have so much chemistry. They’ve been through so much together already: disagreements, near deaths, critical injuries, awkward moments of a budding friendship, talking each other off the ledge. In all the ships of the series, EraserMight has one of the most obvious connections and chemistries.

[shihalyfie]

Hi :) If it's not too much trouble, could you please share your take on why they'd continue the Adventure brand after tri. was such a flop? (and a tangent: what does "dark history" even mean?). We got Kizuna, the reboot, and a 02 movie. Logically, it doesn't really make sense they'd keep investing in it.

This is a thorny topic, and I'd like to reiterate that although I've ended up making more posts related to this series and the discourse surrounding it recently (probably because it's even more on the mind now that another movie is on the horizon and a lot of people are apprehensive for various reasons), I do not want this blog to be making a brand out of being critical of this series. I’m writing this here and in public because I figured that there is a certain degree I need to clarify what I mean about audience reception/climate and how it might impact current or future works, and I’m admittedly also more than a little upset that I occasionally see Western fanbase criticisms of the series getting dismissed by people claiming that the only people mad about it are dramamongering or ignorant Westerners (which could not be further from the truth). However, this is mainly to address this and to answer your question, and is not intended to try and change anyone's existing opinion or impression of the series as much as it's me trying to explain (from my own personal reading of the situation) what practically went down with critical reception in real life; no more, no less.

The short summary of the matter is:

The series was a moderate financial success (albeit with some caveats; see the long version for details) and definitely outstripped a lot of prior attempts to revive the franchise;

However, the overall Japanese fanbase-side critical backlash from tri. was extremely and viciously negative to the point where even acknowledging the series too much could easily result in controversy;

Kizuna’s production and the PR surrounding it very obviously have this in mind with a lot of apparent “damage control” elements.

The long version is below.

Note that while I try to be diligent about citing my sources so people understand that I’m not just making things up wholesale, I’m deliberately refraining from linking certain things here this time, both because some of the things mentioned have some pretty crude things written there -- it’s not something I feel comfortable directing people to regardless of what language it’s in -- and because I don’t want to recklessly link things on social media and cause anyone to go after or harass the people involved. For the links that have been provided, please still be warned that some of them don’t really link to particularly pleasant things.

I am not writing the following information to suggest that anyone should agree or disagree with the sentiments being described. I know people tend to take "a lot of people like/hate this" as a signal of implication "it is correct to like/hate this" when it's not (and I especially dislike the idea of implying that Japanese fanbase opinions are the only correct ones). There's a reason I focus on "critical reception being this way" (because it influences marketing decisions and future direction) rather than how much this should impact one's personal feelings; this is coming from myself as someone who is shamelessly proud of liking many things that had bad critical reception, were financial failures, or are disliked by many. As I point out near the end, the situation also does seem to be changing for the better in more recent years as well.

Also, to be clear, I'm a single person who's observing everything best I can from my end, I have no affiliations with staff nor do I claim to, and as much as I'm capable of reading Japanese and thus reading a lot of people's impressions, I'm ultimately still another “outsider” looking in. These are my impressions from my observation of fan communal spaces, following artists and reading comments on social media and art posting websites, and results from social media searches. In the end, I know as much as anyone else about what happened, so this is just my two cents based on all of my personal observations.

A fanbase is a fanbase regardless of what part of the world you're from. There are people who love it and are shameless about saying so. There are people who have mixed feelings or at least aren't on extreme ends of the spectrum (as always, the loudest ones are always the most visible, but it's not always easy to claim they're the predominant percentage of the fanbase). That happens everywhere, and I still find that on every end I've seen. However, if I'm talking about my impressions and everything I’ve encountered, I will say that the overall Japanese reaction to tri. comes off as significantly more violently negative on average than the Western one, which is unusual because often it's the other way around. (I personally feel less so because the opinions are that fundamentally different and more so because we're honestly kind of loud and in-your-face people; otherwise, humans are mostly the same everywhere, and more often than not people feel roughly the same about everything if they’re given the same information to work with.)

This is not something I can say lightly, and thus would not say if I didn’t really get this impression, but...we're talking "casually looking up movie reviews for Kizuna have an overwhelming amount of people casually citing any acknowledgment of tri. elements as a negative element", or the fact that even communal wikis for "general" fandoms like Pixiv and Aniwota don't tend to hold back in being vicious about it (as of this writing, Pixiv's wiki refuses to consider it in the same timeline as Adventure, accusing it of being "a series that claims to be a sequel set three years after 02 but is in fact something different"). Again, there are people who openly enjoy it and actively advocate for it (and Pixiv even warns people to not lord over others about it condescendingly because of the fact that such people do exist), and this is also more of a reflection of “the hardcore fanbase on the Internet” and not necessarily the mainstream (after all, there are quite a few other Digimon works where the critical reception varies very heavily between the two). Nevertheless, the take-home is that the reputation is overall negative among the Internet fanbase to the point that this is the kind of sentiment you run into without trying all that hard.

I think, generally speaking, if we're just talking about why a lot of people resent the series, the reasons aren't that different from those on the Western side. However, that issue of "dark history" (黒歴史): there's a certain degree of demand from the more violently negative side of the fanbase that's, in a sense, asking official to treat it as a disgrace and never acknowledge it ever again, hence why Kizuna doing so much as borrowing things from it rather than rejecting it outright is still sometimes treated like it’s committing a sin. So it's somewhat close in spirit to a retcon movement, which is unusual because no other Digimon series gets this (not even 02; that was definitely a thing on the Western end, but while I'm sure there are people who hate it that much on their end too, I've never really seen it gain enough momentum for anyone to take it seriously). If anyone ever tells you that Japanese fanbases are nice to everything, either they don't know Japanese, are being willfully ignorant, or are lying to you, because there is such thing as drama in those areas, and in my experience, I've seen things get really nasty when things are sufficiently pushed over the edge, and if a fanbase wants to have drama, it will have drama. This happens to be one of those times.

(If you think this is extreme, please know that I also think so too, so I hope you really understand that me describing this sentiment does not mean I am personally endorsing it. Also, let me reiterate that the loudest section of the fanbase is not necessarily the predominant one; after all, as someone who’s been watching reactions to 02 over the years, I myself can attest that its hatedom has historically made it sound more despised than it actually is in practice.)

My impression is that the primary core sentiment behind why the series so much as existing and being validated is considered such an offense (rather than, say, just saying "wow, that writing was bad" and moving on) is heavily tied to the release circumstances the series came out in during 2015-2018, and the idea that "this series disrespected Adventure, and also disrespected the fanbase.” (I mean, really, regardless of what part of the world you’re from, sequels and adaptations tend to be held to a higher bar of expectation than standalone works, because they’re expected to do them justice.) A list of complaints I’ve come across a lot while reading through the above:

The Japanese fanbase is pretty good at recordkeeping when it comes to Adventure universe lore, partially because they got a lot of extra materials that weren’t localized, but also partially because adherence to it seems to generally be more Serious Business to them than it is elsewhere. For instance, “according to Adventure episode 45, ‘the one who wishes for stability’ (Homeostasis) only started choosing children in 1995, and therefore there can be no Chosen Children before 1995” is taken with such gravity that this, not anything to do with evolutions or timeline issues, is the main reason Hurricane Touchdown’s canonicity was disputed in that arena (because Wallace implies that he met his partners before 1995). It’s a huge reason the question of Kizuna also potentially not complying to lore came to the forefront, because tri. so flagrantly contradicts it so much that this issue became very high on the evaluation checklist. In practice, Kizuna actually goes against Adventure/02 very little, so the reason tri. in particular comes under fire for this is that it does it so blatantly there were theories as early as Part 1 that this series must take place in a parallel universe or something, and as soon as it became clear it didn’t, the resulting sentiment was “wow, you seriously thought nobody would notice?” (thus “disrespecting the audience”).

A lot of the characterization incongruity is extremely obvious when you’re following only the Japanese version, partially because it didn’t have certain localization-induced characterization changes (you are significantly less likely to notice a disparity with Mimi if you’re working off the American English dub where they actually did make her likely to step on others’ toes and be condescending, whereas in Japanese the disparity is jarring and hard to miss) and partially due to some things lost in translation (Mimi improperly using rough language on elders is much easier to spot as incongruity if you’re familiar with the language). Because it’s so difficult to miss, and honestly feels like a lot of strange writing decisions you’d make only if you really had no concept of what on earth happened in the original series, it only contributes to the idea that they were handling Adventure carelessly and disrespectfully without paying attention to what the series was even about (that, or worse, they didn’t care).

02 is generally well-liked there! It’s controversial no matter where you go, but as I said earlier, there was no way a retcon movement would have ever been taken seriously, and the predominant sentiment is that, even if you’re not a huge fan of it, its place in canon (even the epilogue) should be respected. So not only flagrantly going against 02-introduced lore but also doing that to a certain quartet is seen as malicious, and you don’t have as much of the converse discourse celebrating murdering the 02 quartet (yeah, that’s a thing that happened here) or accusing people with complaints of “just being salty because they like 02″ as nearly as much of a factor; I did see it happen, or at least dismissals akin to “well it’s Adventure targeted anyway,” but they were much less frequent. The issue with the 02 quartet is usually the first major one brought up, and there’s a lot of complaints even among those who don’t care for 02 as much that the way they went about it was inhumane and hypocritical, especially when killing Imperialdramon is fine but killing Meicoomon is a sin. Also, again, “you seriously think nobody will see a problem with how this doesn’t make sense?”

I think even those who are fans of the series generally agree with this, but part of the reason the actual real-life time this series went on is an important factor is that the PR campaign for this series was godawful. Nine months of clicking on an egg on a website pretending like audience participation meant something when in actuality it was blatantly obvious it was just a smokescreen to reveal info whenever they were ready? This resulted in a chain effect where even more innocuous/defensible things were viewed in a suspicious or negative light (for instance, "the scam of selling the fake Kaiser's goggles knowing Ken fans would buy it only to reveal that it's not him anyway"), and a bunch of progressively out-of-touch-with-the-fanbase statements and poor choices led to more sentiment “yeah, you’re just insulting the fanbase at this point,” and a general erosion of trust in official overall.

On top of that, the choice of release format to have it spread out as six movies over three years seems to have exacerbated the backlash to get much worse than it would have been otherwise, especially since one of the major grievances with the series is that how it basically strung people along, building up more and more unanswered questions before it became apparent it was never going to answer them anyway. So when you’re getting that frustrated feeling over three whole years, it feels like three years of prolonged torture, and it becomes much harder to forgive for the fallout than if you’d just marathoned the entire thing at once.

For those who are really into the Digimon (i.e. species) lore and null canon, while I’m not particularly well-versed in that side of the fanbase, it seems tri. fell afoul of them too for having inaccurately portrayed (at one point, mislabeled) special attacks and poorly done battle choreography, along with the treatment of Digimon in general (infantilized Digimon characterization, general lack of Digimon characters in general, very flippant treatment of the Digital World in Parts 3-5). If you say you’re going to “reboot” the Digital World and not address the entire can of worms that comes with basically damaging an entire civilization of Digimon, as you can imagine, a lot of people who actually really care about that are going to be pissed, and the emerging sentiment is “you’re billing this as a Digimon work, but you don’t even care about the monsters that make up this franchise.”

The director does not have a very positive reputation among those who know his work (beyond just Digimon), and in general there was a lot of suspicion around the fact they decided to get a guy whose career has primarily been built on harem and fanservice anime to direct a sequel to a children’s series. Add to that a ton of increasingly unnerving statements about how he intended to make the series “mature” in comparison to its predecessor (basically, an implication that Adventure and 02 were happy happy joy series where nothing bad ever happened) and descriptions of Adventure that implied a very, very poor grasp of anything that happened in it: inaccurate descriptions of their characters, poor awareness of 02′s place in the narrative, outright saying in Febri that he saw the Digimon as like perpetual kindergartners even after evolving, and generally such a flippant attitude that it drove home the idea that the director of an Adventure sequel had no respect for Adventure, made this series just to maliciously dunk on it for supposedly being immature, and has such a poor grasp of what it even was that it’s possible he may not have seen it in the first place (or if he did, clearly skimmed it to the extent he understood it poorly to pretty disturbing levels). As of this writing, Aniwota Wiki directly cites him as a major reason for the backlash.

In general, consensus seems to be that the most positively received aspect of the series (story-wise) was Part 3 (mostly its ending, but some are more amenable to the Takeru and Patamon drama), and the worst vitriol goes towards Parts 2 (for the blatantly contradictory portrayal of Mimi and Jou and the hypocritical killing of Imperialdramon) and 4 (basically the “point of no return” where even more optimistic people started getting really turned off). This is also what I suspect is behind the numbers on the infamous DigiPoll (although the percentage difference is admittedly low enough to fall within margin of error). However, there was suspicion about the series even from Part 1, with one prominent fanartist openly stating that it felt more like meeting a ton of new people than it did reuniting with anyone they knew.

So with all of that on the table: how did this affect official? The thing is that when I say “violently negative”, I mean that also entailed spamming official with said violently negative social media comments. While this is speculation, I am fairly certain that official must have realized how bad this was getting as early as between Parts 4 and 5, because that’s where a lot of really suspicious things started happening behind the scenes; while I imagine the anime series itself was now too far in to really do anything about it, one of the most visible producers suddenly vanished from the producer lineup and was replaced by Kinoshita Yousuke, who ended up being the only member of tri. staff shared with Kizuna (and, in general, the fact that not a single member of staff otherwise was retained kind of says a lot). Once the series ended in 2018 and the franchise slowly moved into Kizuna-related things, you might notice that tri.-branded merch production almost entirely screeched to a halt and official has been very touchy about acknowledging it too deeply; it’s not that they don’t, but it’s kind of an awfully low amount for what you’d think would be warranted for a series that’s supposed to be a full entry in the big-name Adventure brand.

The reason is, simply, that if they do acknowledge it too much, people will get pissed at them. That’s presumably why the tri. stage play (made during that interim period between Parts 4 and 5 and even branded with the title itself) and Kizuna are really hesitant to be too aggressive about tri. references; it’s not necessarily that official wants to blot it out of history like the most extreme opinions would like them to, but even being too enthusiastic about affirming it will also get them backlash, especially if the things they affirm are contradictory to Adventure or 02. And considering even the small references they did put in still got them criticism for “affirming” tri. too much, you can easily see that the backlash would have been much harder if they’d attempted more than that; staying as close as possible to Adventure and 02 and trying to deal with tri. elements only when they’re comparatively inoffensive was pretty much the “safe” thing to do in this scenario (especially since fully denying tri. would most certainly upset the people who did like the series, and if you have to ask me, I personally think this would have been a pretty crude thing to have done right after the series had just finished). Even interviews taken after the fact often involve quickly disclaiming involvement with the series, or, if they have to bring up something about it, discussing the less controversial aspects like the art (while the character designs were still controversial, it’s at least at the point where some fanartists will still be willing to make use of them even if they dislike the series, albeit often with prominent disclaimers) or the more well-received parts of Part 3; Kizuna was very conspicuously marketed as a standalone movie, even if it shared the point of “the Adventure kids, but older” that tri. had.

(Incidentally, the tri. stage play has generally been met with a good reputation and was received well even among people who were upset with the anime, so it was well-understood that they had no relation. In fact, said stage play is probably even better received than Kizuna, although that’s not too surprising given the controversial territory Kizuna goes into, making the stage play feel very play-it-safe in comparison.)

So, if we’re going to talk about Kizuna in particular: tri. was, to some degree, a moderate financial success, in the sense that it made quite a bit of money and did a lot to raise awareness of the Digimon brand still continuing...however, if you actually look at the sales figures for tri., they go down every movie; part of it was probably because of the progressively higher “hurdle” to get into a series midway, but consider that Gundam Unicorn (a movie series which tri.’s format was often compared to) had its sales go up per movie thanks to word of mouth and hype. So while tri. does seem to have gotten enough money to help sustain the franchise at first, the trade-off was an extremely livid fanbase that had shattered faith in the brand and in official, and so while continuing the Adventure brand might still be profitable, there was no way they were going to get away with continuing to do this lest everything eventually crash and burn.

Hence, if you look at the way Kizuna was produced and advertised, you can see a lot of it is blatantly geared at addressing a lot of the woes aimed at tri.: instead of the staff that had virtually no affiliation with Toei, the main members of staff announced were either from the original series (Seki and Yamatoya) or openly childhood fans, the 02 quartet was made into a huge advertising point as a dramatic DigiFes reveal (and character profies that tie into the 02 epilogue careers prominently part of the advertising from day one), and they even seemed to acknowledge the burnout on the original Adventure group by advertising it so heavily as “the last adventure of Taichi and his friends”, so you can see that there’s a huge sentiment of “damage control” with it. How successful that was...is debatable, since opinions have been all over the board; quite a few people were naturally so livid at what happened with tri. that Kizuna was just opening more of the wound, but there were also people who liked it much better and were willing to acknowledge it (with varying levels of enthusiasm, some simply saying “it was thankfully okay,” and some outright loving it), and there was a general sentiment even among those who disliked both that they at least understood what Kizuna was going for and that it didn’t feel as inherently disrespectful. (Of course, there are people who loved tri. and hated Kizuna, and there are people who loved both, too.)

Moreover, Kizuna actually has a slightly different target audience from tri.; there’s a pretty big difference between an OVA and a theatrical movie, and, quite simply, Kizuna was made under the assumption that a lot of people watching it may not have even seen tri. in the first place. An average of 11% of the country watched Adventure and 02, but the number of people who watched tri. is much smaller, in part due to the fact that its “theater” screenings were only very limited screenings compared to Kizuna being shown in theaters in Japan and worldwide, and in part due to the fact that watching six parts over three years is a pretty huge commitment for someone who may barely remember Digimon as anything beyond a show they watched as a kid, and may be liable to just fall off partway through because they simply just forgot. (Which also probably wasn’t helped by the infamously negative reputation, something that definitely wouldn’t encourage someone already on the fence.) And that’s yet another reason Kizuna couldn’t make too many concrete tri. references; being a theatrical movie, it needs to have as wide appeal as possible, and couldn’t risk locking out an audience that had a very high likelihood of not having seen it, much less to the end -- it may have somewhat been informed by tri.’s moderate financial success and precedent, but it ultimately was made for the original Adventure and 02 audience more than anything else.

I would say that, generally, while Kizuna is “controversial” for sure, reception towards the movie seems to be more positive than negative, it won over a large chunk of people who were burned out by tri., and it clearly seems to have been received well enough that it’s still being cashed in on a year after its release. The sheer existence of the upcoming 02-based movie is also probably a sign of Kizuna’s financial and critical success; Kinoshita confirmed at DigiFes 2020 that nothing was in production at the time, and stated shortly after the movie’s announcement that work on it had just started. So the decision to make it seems to have been made after eyeing Kizuna’s reception, and, moreover, the movie was initially advertised from the get-go with Kizuna’s director and writer (Taguchi and Yamatoya), meaning those two have curried enough goodwill from the fanbase that this can be used to promote the movie. (If not, you would think that having and advertising Seki would be the bigger priority.) While this is my own sentiment, I am personally doubtful official would have even considered 02 something remotely profitable enough on its own to cash in on if it weren’t for this entire sequence of events of 02′s snubbing in tri. revealing how much of a fanbase it had (especially with the sheer degree of “suspicious overcompensation” Kizuna had with its copious use of the 02 quartet and it tagging a remix of the first 02 ED on the Hanareteitemo single, followed by the drama CD and character songs), followed by Kizuna having success in advertising with them so heavily. Given all of the events between 2015 and now, it’s a bit ironic to see that 02 has now become basically the last resort to be able to continue anything in the original Adventure universe without getting too many people upset at them about it.

The bright side coming out of all of this is that, while it’s still a bit early to tell, now that we’re three years out from tri. finishing up and with Kizuna in the game, it seems there’s a possibility for things improving around tri.’s reception as well. Since a lot of the worst heated points of backlash against it have a very “you had to have been there” element (related to the PR, release schedule, and staff comments), those coming in “late” don’t have as much reason to be as pissed at it; I’ve seen at least one case of a fanartist getting back into the franchise because of Kizuna hype, watching tri. to catch up, casually criticizing it on Twitter, and moving on with their life, presumably because marathoning the whole thing being generally aware of what’ll happen in it and knowing Kizuna is coming after anyway gives you a lot less reason to be angry to the point of holding an outright grudge. Basically, even if you don’t like it, it’s much easier to actually go “yeah, didn’t like that,” not worry too much about it, and move on. Likewise, I personally get the impression that official has been starting to get a little more confident about digging up elements related to it. Unfortunately, a fairly recent tweet promoting the series getting put on streaming services still got quite a few angry comments implying that they should be deleting the scourge from the Internet instead, so there’s still a long way to go, but hopefully the following years will see things improve further...

In regards to the reboot, I -- and I think a lot of people will agree with me -- have a bit of a hard time reading what exact audience it’s trying to appeal to; we have a few hints from official that they want parents to watch it with their children, and that it may have been a necessary ploy in order to secure their original timeslot. So basically, the Adventure branding gets parents who grew up with the original series to be interested in it and to show it to their kids, and convinces Fuji TV that it might be profitable. But as most people have figured by now, the series has a completely different philosophy and writing style -- I mean, the interview itself functionally admits it’s here to be more action-oriented and to have its own identity -- and the target audience is more the kids than anything else. As for the Internet fanbase of veterans, most people have been critical of its character writing and pacing, but other than a few stragglers who are still really pissed, it hasn’t attracted all that much vitriol, probably because in the end it’s an alternate universe, it doesn’t have any obligation to adhere to anything from the original even if it uses the branding, and it’s clearly still doing its job of being a kids’ show for kids who never saw the original series nor 02, so an attempt to call it “disrespectful” to the original doesn’t have much to stand on. A good number of people who are bored of it decided it wasn’t interesting to them and dropped it without incident, while other people are generally just enjoying it for being fun, and the huge amount of Digimon franchise fanservice with underrepresented Digimon and high fidelity to null canon lore is really pleasing the side of the fanbase that’s into that (I mean, Digimon World Golemon is really deep in), so at the very least, there’s not a lot to be super-upset about.

[how-masterful]

To Have Your Cake (And Eat It Too)

Dhawan!master x Reader

Summary: The Master has gotten himself tied up. On your birthday of all days. Stuck in a straightjacket and with no idea how long its going to last, you decide to treat your Time lord with a share of your sweet and sinful birthday desires

Notes: for the second year in a row, this is the official how masterful birthday fic™ for her absolutely beloved @plethora-of-imagines . happy birthday, my love! I hope through all the chaos of losing the first draft, flaky internet connections, and a crippling desire for this fic to work out, you hopefully enjoy your birthday gift! 🥳❤💫

this fic was partly inspired by this piece of artwork by @/thoscheii

The Master tugged angrily on his arms, for the fifth time that minute. He grit his teeth together, yanking his shoulders downwards. 

It was a fruitless effort. 

The straight jacket still refused to budge.

“I’ve tried everything, Master. You really are stuck in there until those time locks fall off.”

He tugged once more, before sighing and sinking back into his chair.

“Great. Absolutely magnificent.”

It was a stupid idea. You’d told him as such. The planet of the bachelors, solo men that thrived on their isolation from women. Females within the species simply didn't exist. The Master had seemingly decided the best idea in the universe, something he’d say about every new plan, would be to try and blend in in order to steal some exciting world destroying weapons (and obviously refuse to tell you about the details). It would be an absolute piece of cake, he’d decreed as soon as he’d planned it- sneak in, steal the plans, sneak out. It would only take fifteen minutes or so. That was 7 hours ago.

However, in his pride and… underestimation of the species’ intelligence, he’d made a single, glaring oversight.

He hadn't taken the bloody wedding ring off of his finger.

“Have you really tried everything?”

You turned from your position leant against the console, sending him an offended expression. The Tardis hummed and whirred in your defence.

“Yes! Every single idea you gave me!”

“Are you sure?”

You widened your eyes in an expression that hopefully conveyed to him it wouldn't be wise to ask again. The Tardis beeped rapidly, hoping to dissolve the tension. Still leaning against the console you folded your arms, looking down at your husband. 

“Yes, Master. I promise. I really think you’re just gonna have to wait this one out.”

The Master let out a loud and rather obnoxious groan. He let his head fall back, scrunching up his face in a look of pure annoyance. But even that expression of disappointment, and most likely rage, couldn't be fully executed. The thick red collar that sat around his neck propped up his head like a neck brace.

To his credit, taking off his ring wasn't something he had to do often. Since the day he’d put it on for the first time it never seemingly came off. That was part of his overt sentimentality that you secretly adored. Plus, it hadn’t caused any problems for the pair of you. The ring, a golden band engraved with endless circular Gallifreyan, sat snugly on his finger and often shone, even in low light. It acted as a symbol, a sign to other creatures great and small that he was indeed a taken Time Lord. It matched your own, your wedding band sharing the same design that comfortably nested itself upon your own hand. Of course, yours had to share a finger with the engagement ring- a white point star, shrunken perfectly to sit and shimmer in a band forged from the oldest nugget of gold in the universe.

You looked down at the ring, smiling fondly at the glimmering star that sat on your finger. It shifted and refracted at even the smallest of movements, even in the low light of the Tardis. From there you looked up to see the Master still trying to flop back his head, grumbling and muttering something most likely threatening to himself. You tilted your head, watching him struggle, before carefully making your way over to sit yourself down in his lap. Taking his face in your hands you carefully brushed over his cheeks with your thumbs, the anger and rage that simmered in his expression slowly melting away as he stared up at you with a rare, rather defeated expression.

It wasn't often that the Master was the one in need of saving. At least in the typical, damsel in distress sort of way. It was no secret that the Master had a history of getting in over his head, especially when it came to the Doctor and their centuries long rivalry- from the Autons all the way to the Kasaavin, the Master would sometimes need that extra helping hand. But with you, he was always so proudly in command. The Master of the situation, one could say. With you he would stride in, proudly taking control over every situation: if you were in danger he’d burst in burning with unstoppable rage, guns blazing- more likely TCE blazing, and would happily destroy anything and anyone that was in the path between you and him. Only now it was him that required the whole rescuing thing.

Seeing him like this, bound in a jacket with timed locks that simply refused to budge, almost made him look humbled. But of course he wouldn't let something so small destroy his persistent (And slightly enjoyable) egomania.

“It suits you, y’know.”

The Master rolled his eyes.

“Is that your way of making me feel better?”

“I’m serious. I never thought I'd say it, but you suit a collar and straight jacket.”

The Master bit back a laugh, sending you an incredulous expression.

“Really? Is that so? Because I feel like a knock off Houdini. Even I don't deserve that.”

You pouted dramatically, sticking out your bottom lip. Your hand reached up to ruffle his already messy hair, earning an even angrier scowl.

“You’re enjoying yourself far too much. Just you wait until I get out of here.”

“Aw, is the big bad Master angry he's got his collar on and matches his wife?”

The Master gave a reluctant laugh, narrowing his eyes like a cat. You tickled under his chin with your fingers, enjoying watching him attempt to squirm away. You could tell he was trying so hard to seem offended, but the way he subtly titled his head to grant you more access to the strip of skin under his chin made you believe otherwise. 

It was also undeniable that the thick red collar that sat around his neck matched your own. It seemed, to the Master, that his collaring of you was a pre marriage arrangement. Your own was a rich, purple leather that curved around your throat, lined with golden velvet that sat flush against your skin. Golden hardware, buckles and rings decorated the piece, making the thing look incredibly lavish and expensive- and judging by the Masters taste, it probably was.

“Don't patronise me, love.”

The Master was scowling again. It looked rather cute. You placed a quick peck to the top of his forehead, watching him scowl in return.

“I can't help it Master, you look like a kicked puppy. All grumpy and angry. You know Its your own fault you got into this mess.”

The Master opened his mouth, ready to argue to the ends of the earth as to how he wasn't responsible for the consequences of his own actions. This argument was neither new, nor something you wanted to get into again.

 Suddenly, you had a thought. It was a naughty thought, rather nefarious. 

Though not deadly, the thought was slightly dangerous. If only for what the Master might do when he finally got free. Yes, this was an ample opportunity for you to follow through, and use the new situation to your advantage. He’d be so proud, you thought, if it wasn't him in said situation. 

You pushed your finger against the Master's lips, catching the Time Lord slightly off guard. Once again, his eyes narrowed.

“Move. Your. Finger.”

“I’m pretty sure this is the universal symbol of shut up and listen, Master.”

The Time Lord pressed his lips into a thin line, glaring absolute daggers in your direction. Slowly you pulled your finger away from his lips, moving your face so close your noses almost touched.

“Fine, I'm listening.”

“Of all the days, Master. You had to choose today. Lucky for you, the Tardis thinks there's not much time left on those time locks. Lucky for me, it gives me just enough time to have some fun with you.”

If the Master's eyes were narrow before, now they were creeping wide. You could see the calculations his brain was performing behind his eyes, all the thoughts and possibilities swirling around in his head like brain soup. Rarely was the Master ever in a situation where somebody intended to have fun with HIM. Usually it was the other way around. This was a new sensation, a feeling of which the Master in all his years of existence had yet to fully comprehend.

Was this… what nervousness felt like?

It wasn't long until he was about to find out.

In all his time, cataloguing his thoughts and trying to figure out what you could possibly mean, the Master failed to notice you slipping from his lap and heading off towards the kitchen. With a skip in your step, you quickly made your way towards the piece of delicious, freshly baked cake that sat under the crystal glass dome on the counter top-  grabbing a fork on your journey back as you circled, returning to the door from which you came.

Quickly scarpering back to the console room, you could see the Master still thinking, his eyebrows furrowed as he tugged at the jacket once more. He really did look like a curious cat, sneering at the problem at hand while also being absolutely fascinated. You carefully made your way towards the Time Lord, letting out a small cough to break him from his focus. Suddenly, his head snapped up towards you, his mess of hair flying backwards as he looked from your smug expression to the plate in your hand, before turning back to your face with a knowing look.

The large triangle of birthday cake, decorated in thick frosting and rainbow sprinkles, sat upon the fine china plate. 

“What are you up to now?”

“You decided to get yourself tied up on my birthday. You’re going to enjoy this slice of cake with me even if I have to feed you it by hand. Now open.”

The Master watched intently as you held the fork to his lips, sending you an unimpressed expression.

“There's nothing on it.” he deadpanned.

“I know that,” you sighed. “Hold it for me while I get myself comfortable.”

The Master rolled his eyes, before opening his lips and taking the fork between his teeth. He looked like those flamenco dancers that would brandish a rose in their mouth while dancing, only slightly less flamboyant. Though the Master definitely was no stranger to flamboyance, if his past regenerations and even more recent plans were anything to go off.

“What on earth are you planning?” he mumbled through gritted teeth, watching you precariously place the plate upon his thigh. His eyes watched with absolute wonder as he saw what you were doing.

Carefully, in front of the Time Lord, you began to tug at the hem of your underwear from beneath the already rather short dressing gown- the pile of clothes you’d rescued him in already sat in a pile in the corner of the room. You slowly shimmied your panties down your legs, his eyes never leaving your body as you purposely drew out your movements. You could tell the Master was fascinated, the way his chest had begun to rise and fall slightly faster than usual. Methodically you teased him, slipping the underwear from your legs and throwing them on to the pile. Your hands then slowly wandered to the Master's knees, the Time Lord taking in a deep breath as you fiddled with the zipper of his trousers, pulling it down to expose his underwear. You took hold of the plate on his thigh before it toppled, using your other hand to pull down the waistband of the Masters underwear, carefully freeing the Masters hardening cock. You could hear him let out a low, guttural groan behind the fork.

Without breaking his gaze you straddled over his thighs, pushing your body against his own as you sank yourself down to sit on his now firm cock. You gasped softly as you felt him inside you, the Masters left eye practically twitching as he bit down on the fork in his mouth. You rocked backwards and forwards a couple times, settling yourself down in his lap, before you brought the plate to sit between your chest and his own. Soon after, you finally reached to pull the fork from between his teeth. The Master was staring at you, wordlessly, lightly panting for breath as you smiled oh so innocently.

“There,” you teased. “Much comfier.”

The Master was working his way towards catching his breath.

“You know… if you were anybody else… I'd kill you for this.”

You laughed lightly, measuring out the size of the first bite with the prongs of the fork.

“Good. Because if anybody else did this to you, I'd kill them as well. You’re my husband after all.”

“You’re getting far too cheeky, love. I think you need reminding who's in charge here.”

You leant forwards in the Masters lap, purposely shifting your hips. You couldn't help but smile at the involuntary gasp he gave.

“What are you going to do, Master? Spank me? With what hands?”

The Master met your gaze, matching your expression. Your faces were mere inches away from each others, your eyes daring each other to make the next move.

“You’re in so much trouble after this.”

“You can't punish the birthday girl, Master. That's just plain old rude.”

The Master chuckled fondly.

“Forgive me for misplacing my manners, dearest. I must’ve left them with my hands.”

“Apology accepted.”

You nipped at the end of his nose with your teeth, before giggling cheekily and leaning in for a kiss. The Master, in all his superiority and domination, couldn't help but kiss back. He always failed to stay fully angry at you. Your noses brushed together as you stole a kiss from each other's mouths, the pair of you dissolving into quiet laughter once you parted. 

“Let me have this moment, Master. Please.”

The Master pondered for a moment, tilting his head dramatically to the side and watching your hopeful expression blossom onto your face. He huffed out a sigh, looking up at you with another defeated expression. Only this one was full of genuine fondness.

“Fine.” he sighed finally. “Because it's your birthday.”

Your smile was absolutely beaming. You pulled the end chunk of cake onto the fork, holding it up to the Masters mouth. The frosting was almost dripping back onto the plate from the fluffy, bite sized piece. He parted his lips, waiting for you to place the cake into his mouth.

“Say please, Master.”

“Don't push it, Y/n.”

You simply shrugged in return, before placing the cake into the Master's mouth. As he chewed you gently began to circle your hips, lightly moving atop his cock, generating a small amount of friction. The Master gave a quiet moan, letting his eyes flutter shut as the cake melted on his tongue. He licked at his lips, catching the small trail of frosting and sprinkles that had remained on his lips.

“How is it?” you purred softly.

The Master smacked his lips together, before giving a lazy smile.

“I’m enjoying myself more than I anticipated.”

“Poor Master, did you think I was going to torture you?”

The Master chuckled as you offered him another piece of cake, parting his lips and watching you intently as you teasingly pulled the fork slowly from his mouth. You continued to twist and circle your hips, the Master's eyes watching you almost hypnotically. You could feel a hot flush begin to creep up your face, the apples of your cheeks blushing a sweet red as your shoulders began to relax. The Master smirked, watching you break off another chunk of the sprinkle covered cake. Only this time you placed it into your own mouth.

You could see why the Master reacted so positively. The flavours swirled and collided in your mouth, your taste buds exploding with sensory pleasure. Your hips swivelled and rocked, much like clockwork, as you rolled your head over your shoulders and gave a deep moan of pleasure.

“Shit, that's a good cake.” you admitted, fluttering open your eyes. The Master was licking his lips, hands lightly tugging on the straightjacket as you licked the frosting from your teeth.

“It's almost as nice as our first wedding cake.”

“Go on, take another bite.”

Weakly, you nodded, breaking off another chunk with the fork and placing it on your tongue. The ‘yes Master’ you gave was almost a whisper.

You did the same for your husband, feeding him another chunk of the cake while continuously building a rhythm of motion atop his cock. The Master was groaning, harder than before, a light sweat beginning to form on his brow. He couldn't help but notice how much closer you’d pressed yourself to his torso, the cake almost sliding from the plate that was now practically diagonal against your chest.

“Y’know, it's not the first time I've worn something like this.” the Master admitted between mouthfuls.

“Seriously?” your voice was almost lost behind a moan.

“White straightjacket, red collar, I think they- fuck- chose something from my personal history to cage me in.”

The Master was now beginning to thrust his hips up against yours, jostling your rhythm and causing you to give a shocked gasp of pleasure. The plate almost fell from your chest, barely being caught by your spare hand and the edge of the fork.

“Master, yes-”

You bit your bottom lip to suppress the guttural moan you wanted to give. The sweetness of the cake mixed with the burning deep in your belly was causing your senses to go into overdrive. The Master was methodical, thrusting up as best he could with the top of his body tied in place. His movements were sending chills shooting up your spine, knowing exactly how to make you gasp for breath and beg for more. He always knew exactly what you desired, his body and mind instinctively understanding every primal desire you had. Maybe you were just obvious. Or perhaps he was more sentimental than he let on.

Soon the once imposing slice of cake was nothing more than a single section. Crumbs and sprinkles poked from the corners of your mouth and onto your lips, the Master's teeth gnashing upwards in a bid to lick them away. Your speed and ferocity had increased to the point where you needed to stabilize yourself atop the Masters thrusting cock. Both of you had begun to sweat. Something needed to give.

“Master, I need, fuck-”

“I swear to god, let me taste you.”

The Master was panting like an animal.

“The plate-”

“Fuck the plate. I’ll buy you as many as you want. Come here, do as you’re told.”

You gave an inhumane snarl as the fork clattered to the floor, your fingers grasping hold of the last square of cake. Frosting oozed down your fingers as you relented your grip on the plate, the small black plate crashing down onto the hard wood and shattering into thousands of shards. The Master opened wide as you bucked your hips, your fingers pushing the cake firmly against his mouth. Sprinkles and crumbs smeared over the Masters lips as you abandoned all inhibition, your own mouth diving in to follow as your lips crashed together in an animalistic kiss. Teeth and tongues slashed and battled for control as the sweet concoction oozed down your throats, the taste of the frosting melting into the taste of each others mouths.

Crumbs and sticky decoration stained the clean white straightjacket as your fingers clasped hold of the Masters shoulders, your forehead pushing against his as he snarled into the kiss. Your hips thrusted furiously against his own, the pair of you rising and falling against the back of the chair as you begged for friction and every sensation you were willing to share. Your fingers fisted into the back of the Master's hair, the other hand stroking down his back and running over the intricate set of time locks that connected the jacket together in an intricate lattice of latches. You tugged on them as you went, growing deeper into the kiss as you bounced yourself up and down in the Masters lap. 

You could feel yourself getting close to the precipice of satisfaction, the Master's teeth nipping at your bottom lip as his tongue licked over the mess. Your noses pushed together as you hissed in delight, your body clamouring for release as you whined pathetically in his ear.

“Master, so close” you begged, tugging on his earlobe with your teeth.

The Master snapped his teeth together, pushing his forehead against his own.

“Don't you dare cum” he barked, groaning as you licked down the side of his face.

“Please, please I can't-”

“Listen to your Master” he growled in your ear. As if that would do anything but make it worse.

The Master continued to thrust and groan, his face flush almost as red as his collar as he edged you closer and closer to release. You struggled to even control your mouth, groans and cries of pleasure escaping your throat as you completely fell apart in the Masters lap. Everything was building up inside of you, your body absolutely ready to feel the warm wave of release course through your very being. All you were waiting on was the Masters word.

And then it finally arrived.

“Cum”

You felt your whole body ricochet from the sudden release of pressure. Your scream was painfully desperate as you felt yourself fold into nothingness in the Masters lap. You gave in completely, the warmth spreading through your entire body as you climaxed hard and fast upon the Masters still hard cock. Tears were mixing with the streaming sweat as you slumped forward against the Master's chest, the Time Lord chuckling as your exhausted eyes fluttered shut on impact. You were about to sleepily flirt, much like usual, sweetening the already malleable Master with your flattering words and praises, when a loud bang sent your eyes flying wide open.

One by one, the time locks that ran up the Masters spine unclasped and plummeted down to the floor, collecting in a heap as they slid through the back of the chair. You picked your head up to look at the Master, sweat dripping from his brow and sprinkles caught in his stubble, watching as the Time Lords face slowly began to spread into a dangerous grin. You felt a chill go down your spine as he slowly began to unfold his arms, forcing you to sit up in his lap, supporting yourself by pushing down on his thighs.

“Well then”

The Master purred, pulling his arms free from their clasps. His fingers wriggled within the triangle shaped tip of the sleeve, his hands reaching up to slickly unclasp the thick red collar from around his neck. It fell to the floor, joining the locks, fork, and what was left of the plate. He looked down at you with a typical, Masterful, Cheshire cat grin.

“Would you look at that?”

Instinctively you gulped, looking up at the Master as he lifted your chin with his cloth covered fingers.

“Now I don't know about you, love, but I've noticed you’ve been getting a little bit too cheeky for my liking.”

At best, you sent him a weak smile. You knew what was about to happen.

“And I have hands now. Lucky, lucky you.”

“I'm guessing you’re going to punish me now, aren't you Master?”

The Master shushed you, tutting as he shook his head. He still clasped your chin in his hand.

“You said it yourself, dear. I can't punish the birthday girl. But I can encourage her to help me get the release I so lovingly provided for her. It's only fair, after all. If there happens to be a lesson or two learned in the process? Call that an added bonus.”

You chuckled weakly as the Master guided you to stand, supporting your still twitching hips as you sent him a wry smile.

“Y’know Master, there's a phrase we have on earth. You can't have your cake and eat it too.”

The Master tilted his head, his mouth making a small ‘o’ shape as he crooked an eyebrow. It soon melted away into a gentle smile, his fingers tucking a stray strand of hair behind your ear.

“Oh, my love.” he grinned, a chuckle building in his throat as he pecked the top of your forehead.

“I just did.”

All of a sudden you felt yourself being lifted into the air, the impact of the Masters shoulder against your stomach knocking the wind out of your system. He barked out a proud laugh as he raised a hand to spank your already reddened ass, his teeth nipping at the soft flesh of your hip as you gave a surprised yelp.

“Happy birthday, Y/N!” he cried, laughing as he carried you towards the bedroom, where god knows what painful pleasure awaited you.

“I hope the birthday girl has room for seconds!”

[night-will-fall]

ok i have a quick rant on the Darkling/Darklina/Shadow and Bone trilogy i have to get out. i genuinely feel she let down his character, alina’s character, and in general the whole arc of the narrative.

**i want to clarify first that I am not anti Leigh. i’ve tagged that per someone’s request, but the truth is i simply feel that anybody who decides to put a story out there in the world, or any kind of writing, will be subject to criticism. that’s part of writing, it’s part of art, and it’s just part of creation and the real world, no matter your intentions or motivations for your piece. just like this post—it should be subject to criticism, too. that’s how discussion happens and people learn. it’s not an attack on the original writer because the writer is not their work. i love Leigh and her choice to put her stories out in the world, even if i disagree with some of the choices she made. it’s only because of her that we get to have these conversations about our favorite characters in the first place. (I also don’t think it’s fair to her and all the work she put into SEVEN novels to reduce the decisions she made about her characters and plots to ‘coping’ — just my two cents. I’m sure her trauma influenced her work, it’s hard to imagine otherwise. but I doubt she or anyone else would vouch for people refusing to critique their work because of something she went through that does not define her.)**

the problem i have with Leigh’s writing of the Darkling is that after Shadow & Bone, it was so forced. she wrote him doing all of these implausibly horrible things after the fans started to like him to force it down our throats that he was the irredeemable villain. and yet when he was first introduced, i was so hopeful that this character called ‘the Darkling’, a shadow summoner and master of darkness, wouldn’t fall into the predictably, disappointingly easy trope of evil as darkness and good as light. so when she did exactly that, it felt like a betrayal of the character after he had already begun to take on a life and heart of his own. we connected to him. and she did her very best to sever that connection in favor of an emotionally manipulative boy who did almost nothing to help alina grow. Mal actually hindered and harmed her growth, constantly guilting her for having wants, desires, and feelings of her own that didn’t revolve around him, whereas the Darkling never wanted her to be anything but herself. he, like her, was capable of seeing the bigger picture, whereas Mal was an absurdly selfish and bizarre character that cared about none of that (and didn’t even “want” alina until she was famous and desired ?!! like come on). i sincerely can’t believe he was intended to be the love interest we connected with and rooted for.

and i know she likely had personal reasons for characterizing Aleksander the way she did, possibly attempting to embody anecdotal experiences with a specific person who did her harm in her own life, but with this character it felt unnatural and forced. she basically ignored of all of his character’s potential as a complex, nuanced human tortured by watching generations of his people’s pain, trauma, exploitation, murder, etc. (even if it was true that he had eroded morally/emotionally because of the mervost and centuries of standing witness to these atrocities), ironically dismissing his potential to grow in a story that was supposed to be all about growth (another narrative failure i won’t get into here). not to mention that his mission’s intent wasn’t even inherently evil (morally grey at worst, which is so much more compelling than pure evil anyway, which makes it extra disappointing that she bungled this), and by the end of the series all of his completely valid points just went unaddressed and people continued to suffer for it. his attempts to solve that problem were simplistically reduced and deemed as plain ‘evil’, with very few people recognizing the deep empathy and collective pain that drove his actions—something that alina actually did understand. 

i feel bad for him. that’s why i like him and that’s why i like Darklina. he deserved better, and so did alina. their chemistry was so eloquently written (and portrayed in the show) and i truly believe they could’ve helped each other grow. but we never got a chance to see or explore that because of how Bardugo’s personal feelings obscured the natural direction of her characters’ development, ultimately doing a serious disservice to her narrative (she does this a few times — prioritizes certain plotlines and actions that she wants to include even if they don’t align with the natural progression of the story). she tries to make us believe certain things and feel certain ways about her characters and plot points in opposition of the simple truth that they just don’t fit. alina’s character essentially ends up right where she started with only a few slight differences, one of them being the loss of power, which was something that made her uniquely, intrinsically her, and was cruelly ripped away in a nonsensical punishment for what? daring to trust? daring to break away from the insecure hold Mal had over her, and constantly used against her? daring to grow and learn? daring to delve deeper into her own power as a Grisha? daring to connect with the Darkling and the nobility of his motives? it was all around just a sad and disappointing direction to take a story that had so much potential to be powerful and different.

[not to mention all of the beautiful balance in the light/shadow trope, the star-crossed lovers torn apart by situational and ideological conflict, the novelty of their powers and their mirroring inabilities to “fit in” or find others like them, like. come ON, that could have been so great. ugh. just to abandon it all for dusty, insecure Malware. pls.]

ok end rant. thank you if you read my heated word vomit.

[peachsayshi]

Chapter 10 - Intimate (2)

Tags: Friends with Benefits, Angst, Fluff 

Summary: Gojo uses you to relieve some of his stress after his little argument with your best friend, and poses a question that catches you off guard.

A/N: this chapter was a bit difficult for me to write and I think it's because it turned out to be sort of a filler chapter! Also, please excuse any errors - I am definitely posting this half asleep lol! but I am really excited to share the upcoming ones! I initially said that this was going to be 25 chapters but I outlined the rest of the story and there will be more! Hehe I do plan on doing the few extra one-shots in the end, so I hope you enjoy.

- - - 

“Tell me you’re mine…”  

You blushed at the thought of Satoru’s words, painfully aware of the knot that tightened in the pit of your stomach which then tugged at your lungs, slowing your breath. You reached for the seasoning packets, ripping open the colored wrappers to prepare the ramen broth. You watched as tiny circles began to form from the bottom of the metal pot, bubbling it’s way to the surface. You could hear the shower still running from your bathroom, a bit relieved that Gojo was taking his time because you wanted to bask in the few precious minutes you had to yourself to try and quieten your racing thoughts.

You couldn’t focus on the task of preparing dinner because the word “mine” slipping from Gojo’s lips in a feverish claim was playing on a loop in your head. The way his tone darkened with urgency when he held his body close to yours sent goosebumps to run up your arms. You couldn’t figure out where the possessive streak came from or why he felt the need to assert his dominance over an act that should not have been as intimate as it felt. You folded your arms over your chest, subconsciously pinching your skin as you tried to ignore the way your heart skipped a beat.

There was a difference when you made your own personal comparisons in the safety of your mind versus Gojo bringing it up in the bedroom. Somehow admitting your confession to him made you feel vulnerable and his reaction didn’t make it any  better, appearing to be competitive about the entire situation.

That doesn’t make any sense, why would he care? you wondered.

You never actually paid attention to how Gojo felt about your ex-boyfriend. For the most part he’s always been nice to him. Although the two of them weren’t the closest of friends, they seemed to get along whenever you all hung out together. You never would have anticipated that Gojo would be…

Jealous of him ?

That he would resent him?

Honestly, you didn’t even have an explanation for what it could possibly mean.

“ Pay attention…”

Gojo’s voice startled you, you didn’t even realise he was standing right behind you until you noticed him reach his arm forward to reduce the flame, stopping the water from bubbling over the pot.

“Whoops! Lost my train of thought for a second...” you lied, refusing to look in his direction in the hopes that he wouldn’t catch you blushing.

“That’s a safety hazard, you know?” he teased, still standing dangerously close behind you as he reached for the dry noodles himself and placed them into the pot. “You need sharp eyes when cooking otherwise you’ll end up having an unnecessary accident.”

A nervous chuckle escaped you as you circled to face him. Gojo had borrowed one of your black silk scarves, using it as a makeshift blindfold since his own was now tumbled between your bedsheets on the floor. You could smell your coconut and hibiscus body wash off him, the scent combining with the residual cologne on his clothes. An easy smile spread across that handsome face, his relaxed demeanor contrasting the state he was in when he first knocked on your door.

He’s your friend, you reminded yourself. What happens in the bedroom doesn’t mean anything…  

It shouldn’t mean anything.  

“Whatever you say, sensei ...” you chirped, burying your wayward thoughts. “Why don’t you grab those mats and I’ll bring these over to the table”

You assembled the two bowls, adding a little extra broth for Gojo because you knew he preferred it that way. Meanwhile, he had placed the two mats on the opposite side of the dining table, taking care not to disturb your work set up.

“Here you go,” you said, as you slid the bowl in front of him while he took his seat.

“Thank you!”

At first you both sat in silence, Gojo was responding to a few unanswered text messages but you were studying him with curious eyes, waiting for him to give you an explanation for his sudden visit.

“ Sooo, you want to tell me what that was all about?” you asked.

“That being?”

You waved your chopsticks in the direction of your bedroom, raising your brow before replying, “That being the sequence of events that just transpired…”

“ Stress relief ...” Gojo explained in between bites as he casually tucked his phone back into his pocket.

You thrummed your fingers against the warm bowl in your hands, fidgeting with the chopsticks in the other.  “Well, I’m glad I could help you unwind, I guess...”

He flashed you a wicked grin, “Me too, because I need a repeat of the show...”

“I can’t look at you when you say that,” you remarked, focusing your attention onto the noodles and growing shy at his comment.

“Am I embarrassing you?”

“A little…”

“I don’t understand why, that was fucking hot ...”

Your face burned, the heat radiating all the way to the back of your neck from his words. You cleared your throat as you rolled your eyes at him, desperately trying to brush off his statement in a cool manner. You could feel the knot in your stomach, the thoughts you were having crept back into your mind as you tried to hush them away.

You decided to shift the conversation away from the bedroom and back to Gojo instead. If he wasn’t so flustered by his own emotions, you might have accepted his excuse of needing to relieve stress but you knew there was more to the story.

“Did something happen at work?” you questioned.

Gojo chuckled to himself, “It’s funny how you won’t even acknowledge my compliment... ”

“Are you really going to make me pry a proper answer out of you?” you huffed, and he could hear your annoyance in your tone.

Gojo wished that he didn’t have to get into this particular part of the conversation with you, knowing full well how it was going to bring down the mood.

“No, nothing happened at work,” he said with a sigh, “I was with Rina. She asked me to stop by her shop…”

You knitted your brows in confusion, “That’s kind of random.”

Gojo nodded his head, “I thought so too. She initially told me that she wanted to get my opinion on some new items she was dropping for her menu. Turns out I was only there because she wanted to know how long you and I have been sleeping together for…”

You choked at his statement, his nonchalant words nearly going over your head.

Gojo kept eating, unphased by your reaction. “Need some water?”

“Y-yes…no, ugh, nevermind …she asked you how …”

“ How long you and I have been fucking… ” Gojo replied, flicking his index finger back between you both to fully clarify his statement.

The knot in your stomach cinched, a wave of nausea swirling in your gut as you placed your chopsticks down.

“How... how did she even find out? ” you whispered to yourself as you slumped against the back of your chair.

“She saw us at the park.”

“ Oh .”

You and Rina have both had your fair share of arguments before but sometimes when her emotions got the better of her, Rina’s outbursts often came with her sharp tongue. Over the years you had to explain to her that her words carried more weight than she thought, and in turn she became more conscious around you. However it suddenly dawned on you that Gojo might have been on the receiving end of Rina’s unfiltered anger.

You covered your face with your hands, groaning with frustration. “What did she say?”

“ Hmm ?”

“What did Rina say to you?”

Gojo shrugged his shoulders, “don’t worry about what she said to me. I know she didn’t mean anything by it...”

“But you were upset when you got here…”

“Let’s clarify something, Rina was upset because she was hurt. I was just annoyed by the situation. There’s a difference...”

You wished he would take your conversation a little more seriously and not brush it off with such ease but sighed knowing full well that Gojo wasn’t going to tell you what exactly happened which meant that Rina must have said something deliberately hurtful towards him.

“ I’m sorry… ”

“Why are you apologizing?”

You picked up your utensils, “For dragging you into this unnecessary drama I started. I should have just told Rina what was going on between us…”

Gojo paused after slurping a noodle, “well, why didn’t you tell her?”

“She’s been overprotective recently… ” you explained, not wanting to get into the details that the reason was purely based on your break up and how terrible you have been about getting over it. “I knew that if I told her about our arrangement she would analyze me to death over it and I didn’t want to deal with that…”

“Fair point,” Gojo acknowledged with a hum.

His short responses unsettled you, and you found yourself overcompensating to make up for it. “I’ll talk to her and smooth things over and I’ll make sure she apologizes for whatever it is that she said to you. She shouldn’t take her frustration out on you just because she was upset with me...”

Gojo nodded his head but you could clearly sense that he was not in the mood for any serious conversations right now. Taking himself out of this particular topic, Gojo quickly changed the subject after you made your last statement.

He kept the rest of the chat lighthearted, distracting your worries by telling you little anecdotes he had about his co-worker, Nanami. You suddenly found yourself giggling when Gojo revealed that he practically stalked Nanami for an entire day just so he could force the man to hang out him.

“I feel bad for the poor guy, you completely terrorize him,” you stated, clearing the table once you were both done eating.

You made your way over back to your kitchen where you rinsed off the bowls before placing it in the dishwasher. “You’re free to hang out if you want,” you offered, noticing Gojo get himself together as he was preparing to leave.

“I think I distracted you enough for tonight,” he replied.

You walked him to the door, following in line with his long strides. Just as he was about to reach the handle of your front door, he stopped before turning to face you.

“You don’t owe anyone an explanation about what is going on between us,” he stated, his voice low and serious.

You blinked a couple of times in surprise before parting your lips to respond, “I know I don't owe anyone an explanation but I know what Rina’s feeling and the only way I can see myself fixing this problem is by telling her everything. We never keep secrets from each other and I would probably be equally as hurt if she chose to hide something from me too... ”

Gojo pressed his lips together, navigating the words floating in his mind before reaching his hand out to touch your fingers.

“I get it but I just…”

“ Just ?...”

He exhaled, “I don’t want you overthinking anything between us, okay?”

“Don’t worry, even though we are terrible at sticking to our own rules, I am fully aware of where we both stand…”

You notice the relief wash over Gojo’s face as he slips his fingers away from your touch, “Good, because I like what we are doing.”

“I-I like it too…” you replied almost instantly, your heart racing at your own admittance.

The sorcerer left you a bundle of nerves when he said his goodbye. The knot in your stomach made its presence known, twining itself around your insides as you couldn’t escape this foreign emotion that seemed to have infiltrated your body.

*** 

CHAPTER 11 - FRIENDS

[husbandograveyard]

I thought my mind is angst free but le nope, here I am. Hazel, my precious ray of sunshine, may I ask for some angst torture with Sanji and Zoro (not poly, lmao) and fem s/o who hid severe medical condition from them. One day it suddenly gets much worse and Chopper is not available; boys can't do nothing much than watching her fading away in their arms and begging her to not go where they can't follow (ah yes, lotr reference). But happy ending plz, if possible T^T Thank you UwU

Some Angst for Bas! :Hellmo: I tried not to angst it up too much, and they ended up about double as long as I intended. I hope you like them and thank you for your insane patience! Sending you love! 

Having an S/O who hides a severe medical condition HC - Sanji, Zoro 

2nd person. Female reader. tw: illness, mentions of illness, light angst 

Sanji 

Sanji is quite observant. He keeps an eye on his lover, and he knows you better than you sometimes know yourself. So he definitely knows something is up: the visits to chopper, the sudden breaks you need to take in the middle of chores and training. But you never talk about it and he respects your privacy. 

No matter how much he wants to help you, no matter how much he really wishes you would open up to him about whatever is going on, he knows that you want to tackle this by yourself. 

That does not mean he lets you do everything by yourself all the time. He finds many ways to help you around, disguising it under his gentleman attitude. 

He cooks you special dishes that are filled to the brim with all kinds of vitamins and other nutritional elements that will help you keep healthy and strong, even though he has absolutely no idea what part of your health is the one that is stopping you. 

He carries everything that might be too heavy for you, not wanting to over stress you. Even if you’re plenty strong, he will just say that it’s a men’s duty to carry his lady’s stuff. 

Even when you're training, he will bring refreshments, make sure you take plenty of breaks, draw you a nice bath after and massage any aching muscles if you will allow him. 

Sanji is near you when you have the worst episode of your illness you’ve ever had. You feel weak, everything hurting, and you just collapse in the middle of the deck. Sanji would catch you right before you fall, worriedly asking you what you need, but he realizes you’re already unconscious and cannot reply. 

Chopper is out with some other crewmates to get supplies, so Sanji is immediately panicking, torn in between leaving you on the ship to go get Chopper as fast as possible and staying with you in hopes the others will return soon. He eventually settles for the first, deciding that your chances are best when Chopper is involved. 

He picks you up and carries you to your bed so at least you’re in a comfortable spot, but when he turns to leave, there’s a soft tug at his sleeve and he can hear you very faintly whispering to stay. Your eyes are barely open and you’re wincing with every little sound and movement around you. He kneels down next to the bed, tears now falling freely as he begs you to stay with him and not to give up. Chopper will be there soon. 

You have fallen unconscious again when Chopper returns. Sanji races outside the moment he hears them arrive and drags Chopper over to the room, explaining as quickly as he can. He insists on staying with you as Chopper looks after you. 

Luckily, Chopper is already aware of your situation, and he’s able to help you swiftly. 

You wake up not that much later, still in loads of pain, Sanji holding your hand as tight as he can without adding to the pain.

“Please y/n…. let me help next time”

Zoro

Zoro notices something is off rather fast… but much like Sanji, he is not one to pry. You tell him you’re fine, he will believe you.. up until a certain point that is. 

For the most time, you can just dismiss him by telling him there is nothing seriously wrong, trying not to worry him, and assure him that you can handle it. After all, Zoro won’t needlessly hurt your pride by being overbearing or smothering you when it’s unnecessary. 

He’s still picking up on some cues. Just because Zoro is pretty routine-oriënted, he will notice it when things are out of place or not going like they should. On days where he notices you’re struggling, he will pull you with him for an extra nap, bother Sanji for some extra healthy food… the small things that let you know that he cares, he just doesn’t want you to be bothered or feel bad that he’s helping.

He’s training when he hears a loud crash, and even though it’s not that rare for things to fall and break on the ship, he has to do a double take, seeing as the only ones on the ship are you, Usopp and him. The latter usually just spends time tinkering away, and wasn’t supposed to emerge from his room until an emergency happened or the others returned. Weights are swiftly dropped as he shouts down from the crow’s nest. 

“Y/n? Everything all right there?” 

When there is no response, he rushes to where you are supposed to be. He knows you’re not one to joke, especially since you very well know how overbearing he can get when there’s serious danger involved. 

He finds you on the floor, a little scrape bleeding from the fall, but otherwise you seem unharmed. 

He almost lets out a sigh in relief when he notices tears silently streaming over your face. Your expression is contorted, laced with pain and he feels his heart sink all the way into his shoes when he rushes over, easily picking you up and cradling you, his actions a little more rough than intended, only because he just wants to make sure you’re helped as soon as possible. 

You let out a yelp as he picks you up. It’s loud, but not as intense as he’s used to from you. You’re visibly weak and he curses himself mentally for not saying anything earlier today or staying with you when he noticed today was another one of your ‘off days’. 

“Y/n, what’s wrong? What can I do?” 

You open your mouth a couple of times, but find that even talking has become hard, if not excruciating, and you can barely choke out “Chopper”. 

Zoro holds you as close as he can without crushing you or causing you any more pain, and yells out to Usopp to hold the fort. He needs to get you to the doctor, ASAP.

His sense of direction is not really helping, but fortunately, the rest of the crew doesn’t take too long to hear of a ‘green haired man frantically looking for his crew while practically running in circles’. 

The rest of the crew finds you guys relatively fast, but by then you’re slipping in and out of consciousness. Zoro had been cursing about them getting away, and simultaneously kept talking to you, panic apparent in his voice as your answers are incoherent or altogether absent. 

Chopper, as the only one aware of you condition, manages to help you faster than any other doctor would be able to, but you’re going to need some extra medicine and rest for letting it come this far. 

Once he gets the ok, Zoro carries you back to the ship, ignoring all your protests. He will see it as his personal responsibility to make sure you rest and get your meds in time. 

He kisses your forehead as he puts you down on your bed to rest once you’re back at the ship.

“Sorry y/n, some burdens cannot be carried alone. I will help, even if you don’t want me to.”

[canary3d-obsessed]

Restless Rewatch: The Untamed Episode 11 second part

(Masterpost) (Other Canary Absurdity) 

Warning: Spoilers for All 50 Episodes!

Message from the Lan Clan

After dinner the Yunmeng bros go to talk to Jiang Fengmian in his study. They're quiet and respectful here, with no shoulder-shoving or arguing. This scene has such Brady Bunch energy, where Dad's Study is the Man Place where boys come to talk about Serious Things.

The boys tell Dad Jiang about the Yin Iron and he says yeah, I know. This is probably why he let them run off on their road trip without punishing them, but he could have, like, shared data with them so they might have actually achieved something related to the Yin Iron, rather than just wandering around the countryside bonding with Lan Wangji and Nie Huaisang.

He shows them a letter from the Lans that basically says the Lan Clan is in the shit, and he tells them they've got to go to the Wen indoctrination because otherwise they will also be in the shit. 

He gives the boys a warning about the Yin Iron, which is that 

1. it can be refined and 

2. if you refine it carefully, it will not control you. 

Awesome tip, will definitely use, thanks pop.

(more behind the cut)

Jiang Cheng wants to argue about going to the Wen party, but Wei Wuxian vocally gets on board, not leaving any opportunity for whining. 

Wei Wuxian is only sucking up a little bit in this scene. He obviously has a lot of affection for Jiang Fengmian, but WWX doesn't play up to his favoritism nearly as much as he could. Compare, for example, how he leans into Yanli's preferential treatment of him.  

Fight Outside the Cold Cave

Over on the Gusu side of the country province township, the disciples have gathered outside the cold cave that previously none of them knew about, and Su She is freaking out. 

Most of the acting in The Untamed is naturalistic, but then there are occasional characters who are portrayed with a much more theatrical, broad style. Su She's villainy is not given a lot of layers; he's playing a type, more than a person.

Many of the villains in The Untamed are played this way, but not all. Wen Zhuliu, for example, is a genuinely horrifying bad guy while also conveying depth and ambivalence--despite having hardly any lines. And JGY is a masterpiece of a performance. For Su She, the directors or the actor have opted for "sniveling backstabber" as a type, which is unfortunate, because it robs his final scenes of emotional impact.

Lan Qiren tells the disciples to get to safety. He rushes forward, gamely getting his ass kicked by human cuisinart Wen Xu.  He's not as effective a warrior as either of his nephews but he's a brave S.O.B.

Hanguang Jun to the Rescue

Before things can go completely pear-shaped, Lan Wangji sails in with his guqin.

The Blue Steel technique of the Lan Clan

Like many gifted learners, Lan Wangji's musical abilities are more advanced than his social skills. Here he musically makes the ground literally explode, almost as if it had been specially rigged with incendiary charges.  

Lan Wangji is very pretty when he's worried, and his affection and concern for his uncle is touching. He's 100% not interested, as we will see, in Lan Qiren's whole "lets all die for the future of the Lan Clan while my nephews hide" agenda. He's on his own agenda of smiting the wicked and protecting the weak.

Notice how Su She is standing right next to Lan Qiren here, even holding his arm? The next thing that Lan Qiren says is to tell all the disciples to keep up as they run into the cave. Somehow Su She totally does not keep up, and he gets caught outside along with a bunch of other disciples.

Giving Up

Wen Xu and his men kill most of the other caught disciples, and then threaten Su She, asking him how to get into the cave. In fear for his life, he tells them. Not cool, Su She, but possibly forgivable. Although when you voluntarily join a, you know, battle cult, physical courage is kind of an important qualifier.

But this shit here...

They didn't fucking ask about the books, douchebag.  

Su She was there in Lan Qiren's house when the two heads of his clan knelt to each other, each claiming the right to be the one to stay behind and die. And he heard Lan Qiren say that the ancient books are the foundation of the clan and that only if LXC and the books survive, will the clan continue. By giving up both men, and pointing out the book situation, Su She has totally earned his expulsion. 

Lan Wangji Takes a Stand

Lan Wangji decides, for the first but not last time, to openly defy his uncle...and it's got nothing to do with Wei Wuxian. Lan Wangji is a hero, who follows the dictates of his conscience. His conscience is extremely filial and extremely orthodox, but he’s got a growing open-minded streak.  This is going to cause a whole lot of conflicts for him over the next few years.

This time, however, he manages to skate out from under the whole disobedient, unfilial thing by citing Lan Yi's directive, which means Lan Qiren has to accept it because she's his predecessor and elder relative (She is probably not a literal ancestor, since she spent her life in a cave putting fucking headbands on fucking rabbits which probably didn’t leave time for having babies).

This is a pretty extraordinary moment for Lan Wangji and for Lan Qiren, because Lan Wangji just asserted his own form of authority to do the exact opposite of what Lan Qiren wanted, and Lan Qiren just sucked it up and let him.

It's also very different from western stories involving a holy McGuffin such as the Yin Iron. Lan Wangji's solution of "fuck it, just let the bad guys have it, it's not worth so many people dying for" is refreshing and surprising to me, a westerner raised on The One Ring, the Grail, the Death Star Plans, etc.

Lan Wangji steps out of the cave and uses a sword blast to save Su She, the ungrateful bastard, from getting stabbed by Wen Xu. Then he surrenders, and they break his leg to slow him down. This does not actually incapacitate him, because he is Lan Fucking Wangji, already a BAMF at like 17 years old. When they whack his leg, his chunk of Yin Iron falls out onto the ground.

That thing was in a magic bag of holding before. So...it just falls out when you whack him? If they whack him again will his guqin fall on the ground? What about candy?

Archery Practice at Lotus Pier

Meanwhile, back at Lotus Pier, the brothers are enjoying some quality time together before they head to the hostage-taking indoctrination.

Wei Wuxian is such a great cultivator that he can hit a distant target even when he jerks his bow upwards as he releases the arrow.

Jiang Cheng seems fairly pleased, and proud of his brother. He's competitive and fundamentally grumpy but not, at least here, a sore loser.

Club Ruohan

We go over to Da Club, where Wen Ruohan is yelling at Wen Qing for letting Lan Wangji and Wei Wuxian go. He names them both, so they're becoming more and more known to their enemies. Which is not a good thing.

He menaces her with the zombie mosh crew, having them kill a dude in front of her and then saying her baby brother will be next in the circle of zombies if she tries any more stunts. Neither of them can imagine how much zombie ass her baby brother is going to kick, later in his (un)life.

Side note: What is up with WRH’s hair? Why bother pulling your hair up over your ears if you're going to leave an enormous curtain of it over your face? It's because he knows there's a wind machine next to his throne, isn’t it?

Leaving Lotus Pier

Jiang Cheng: when I ran off earlier in the year on my road trip you didn't pack a goddamn thing.

Wen Indoctrination

Is it even possible to stand next to this much active volcanic shit and not, uh, die? I live in the tornado part of the US so I don't know much about lava (yet. 2020 still has 2 months to go). But it seems like it would be hard to breathe the air. Also they appear to build houses on lava piles, which seems imprudent.  I say that even as someone who plays The Elder Scrolls Online, which is full of lava towns and nonsense like “ash farming.”

Nie Huaisang is adorable at all times, but particularly here, when he's so happy to see his friend who *didn't* fuck his gege and then abandon him without an explanation. 

Nie Huaisang: I'm so glad I can count on Wei-Xiong to be consistent and not vanish for months, or become a traumatized shell of his former self, or, like, horribly die.

Jin Zixuan isn't quite as happy to see Wei Wuxian.

Wen Chao enjoys the sound of his own voice way too much, and is malevolent and boring. On the plus side, he likes to stand with his hand stuck out in the air, which is fun for your resident photoshopper.

Nie Huaisang is so miserable every time he's holding a sword, or blade, or whichever we're supposed to call this. He's got his fan tucked into his belt, which is sweet. He is happy to give up his sword but don't you dare try to take his fan.

Meanwhile Wei Wuxian is worried about Lan Wangji, and Jiang Cheng isn't.

Lan Wangji shows up under guard, and takes his position at the front of the line, but without any extra disciples. The Wens let him change into snowy white robes after breaking his leg which will go well with arterial blood spray. He's focused and is determined not to interact with Wei Wuxian in this public context.

When I was little, I would sit near my best friend at church on Sunday, but not be allowed to talk to her until church was over, and it was exactly like this. She was good at churching and I was hyper and hated church. We are still best friends and these things are still true.

This interaction is like a thumbnail for the whole dynamic of these three boys: Lan Wangji outwardly ignoring Wei Wuxian while having many interior feelings about him; Wei Wuxian demanding attention and creating a bit of a scene, due to his very genuine caring; Jiang Cheng telling him to leave that boy alone for fuck's sake.

Lan Wangji: Stop trying to talk to me Wei Ying, I’m busy composing a song in my head about the two of us and our love for each other. 

[liptonsbabe]

The light is coming [B.W]

Previous

Bill Weasley x Lexington! reader

Summary: The reader wants to leave Beauxbatons attending to her sister’s pleadings to join the Order of the Phoenix. Byron Murphy wants to leave with her and the rumors about the two of them having a romance follows them to England

Word count: 2.4K

Warnings: none(?

A/N: Chapter 2 of this new story. I hope you like it! Bla bla bla english not my mother language bla bla, let me know if i screwed something up. Enjoy!

Chapter2: Beauxbatons

You received your sister's desperate letters all the way to your own room at Beauxbatons Academy of  Magic. Your brow couldn't help but twitch at the sight of the dozens of letters crowding your window sill after you had finished teaching your classes for the day.

You let the Tonks family owl get in before it fell from the tenth floor of the castle of how gnarled its wings were. France had turned into a huge fridge in the last few days, so you were surprised that the little grayish owl could carry so many letters tied to its legs in the middle of a blizzard.

The owl let out a whimpering sound as you took it in your arms and, removing the tethers, laid it on your bed near the fire in the fireplace; you scooped some food onto a napkin and walked to your desk to read the correspondence.

Although you were familiar with your older sister's great euphoria when sending letters, you recognized that this time they were not just letters asking you to tell her how things were on the other side of the pond or demanding to know the latest gossip about your love life. No, the letters that your sister Nymphadora had sent you were totally serious, mature and direct; in each and every one of them she asked you for help on her behalf and on behalf of Albus Dumbledore.

Nymphadora asked you to return home even though she knew the reasons why you had decided to leave for France. She demanded your help to put an end to an evil that was plaguing the community and was forcing you to be part of an organization that Dora described as 'The Order of the Phoenix' created and spread by the Hogwarts’ headmaster.

You knew Albus Dumbledore very well, you remembered the man who had visited you at the Tonks' house on your eleventh birthday asking you to join the school he ran. No matter how much he begged you, you never agreed to what he asked, not cause you didn't want to, but because you and your adopted family would be better if you went away from there.

Andromeda Tonks was the mother of a little two-year-old girl when someone knocked on her door in the midst of a blast of icy rain. Opening the door she found to her surprise that a small basket was in front of her feet, soaking wet and holding a rain-soaked baby girl who was crying inconsolably.

"Ted! Come look at this, Ted!" She cried out as she carried the wet baby in her arms who snuggled into her arms as soon as she felt the woman's warmth “For Merlin's sake, Ted!

Her husband ran to the doorway as he carried little Nymphadora, who was hugging a stuffed hippogriff. The man stopped in front of his wife, staring in amazement at the gift that had been left in front of their house.

"It's a baby, Ted! Someone has left their baby here and in the middle of a storm!"

"There's got to be a note" Reasoned her husband, shaking with fright "If there isn't, maybe... maybe she was left here by mistake and we'll have to look for her parents.I s there a note? What does it say?"

The note Ted Tonks was referring to was nothing more than a piece of parchment worn and almost undone by the water in the basket. Andromeda held it up to the light to decipher the message, but all she could read was: "HER NAME IS (Y/N)". The message was accompanied only by a golden locket that had the image of a clay pot with hands that molded it; on the back were the initials '(Y/N) and an S at the end. Andromeda didn’t understand why.

Even with all that, they decided that they would keep little (Y/N) Lexington -that was the word that was engraved on the basket, with which Andromeda concluded that that must be your last name- at least until your real parents came back claiming that everything had been a big mistake. Years passed and no one went in search of you.

You caressed the necklace slowly, remembering the story your mother Andromeda told you, always telling you that, even though you were not her biological daughter, she loved you as much as if you were, and that Dora loved you as if you were her sister. So, you felt the need to help her in everything your sister asked you.

Your powers were strange, no one knew what they were due to, but the Tonks family never wondered even when they appeared out of nowhere, at five years of age and after having seriously injured Nymphadora. You decided it was best to leave for France and learn to use your powers away from your family.

Now you didn't know if Madame Maxime would let you go back home, after all, you had thought of quitting being a teacher to devote yourself fully to be an auror because for that you had studied day and night until exhaustion, however your intentions had been an enigma for Madame Maxime, who flatly refused to let you abandon your classes of defense against the dark arts. But, if Dora needed you, you had to be there, because there was nothing you wouldn't do for your sister.

Folding each of the letters, you approached your bed and with your wand made all your clothes fly out of the closet until they dropped into the open suitcase that rested under your chest of drawers. You deftly closed the latch and made it become the size of a coin, loading it into your front pocket. You opened the door and ran down the stairs.

You greeted every student you came across and even talked to each of them on your way to the principal's office. You started running, thinking that you had to be that very day at the address Dora had attached to you in the last letter she sent. You fixed your hair before you reached the office and knocked three times on the door. A light voice gave you the pass on the other side and you rushed in.

“Excusez moi madame” you said as you saw the headmistress sitting in front of her desk. On the other side sat a man you recognized as Byron Murphy, a senior auror who worked as an assistant teacher of defense against the dark arts. You frowned after Byron smiled at you" I'm sorry to interrupt you, but I need to talk to you about something important.

"What is it, Professor?"

"I... well" You cleared your throat, looking down at your shoes "You see, my sister has written to me from England as a matter of urgency and she asked me to return home immediately”

"C'est du jamais vu!"Shouted the woman, kicking her desk. Byron jumped in his place "This must be a joke. Just today my two defense professors wish to resign, is this some kind of loving decision?”

Your cheeks soon turned into two shiny fresh tomatoes from the embarrassment. Byron looked at you with a raised eyebrow and held out his hand for you to take, wanting to play along with what the headmistress had just said. You shook it off, because you were not indifferent to the gossip going around the school about the two of you.

Byron Murphy would take any opportunity to be near you, and you even thought it was all a plan of the auror when Madame Maxime appointed him as assistant for defense against the dark arts; you soon learned that the class itself was very heavy and that even though you refused to accept Byron's help, you had no choice but to lean on him when things didn't turn out as arranged. Even with all that, the girls came up with that both of you were in a romantic relationship. There was the day you overheard your fourth graders whispering about how they had discovered that you and Professor Byron Murphy were getting married next winter. You punished them with extra homework.

"No, god, it's nothing like that."

"Then what is it?"

"My sister needs me, ma’am. There's.... there's a matter in England that I must help her settle."

"What kind of matter?"

"Uh, well" You knew that the next thing you would say would seriously upset the headmistress, but you had no choice but to be honest and get out of there as soon as possible “She doesn't mention much about the situation, but in every letter she has sent me Albus Dumbledore's name comes up”

There was a long silence that was cut short when the huge headmistress stood up and the chair she was sitting in fell backwards causing a frightening clatter. You took a couple of steps back and tried to keep your hands as close to your wand as possible. Byron got up as well, walked over to you and stood next to you, holding your hand in case the situation got out of hand.

“Albus Dumbledore! That unfortunate little man! I've had enough of him since last year!”

“Are you referring to the Triwizard Tournament?” Byron asked

“Of course that's what I mean! That damned Tournament where Hogwarts had two winners, unfairly of course, but nothing could be done cause the laws of the damned Goblet were clear, weren't they? They didn't accept appeals. And then... what happened to that Diggory boy... what they said about the return of He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named.... Albus Dumbledore is a liar!” You closed your eyes as a drop of spittle landed on your cheek. Byron shook his head

“You don't believe in the Dark Lord's return?”

“Of course not!” You both knew that the headmistress was really annoyed as her French accent became even more pronounced. You looked at Byron for a second before looking back at the angry woman “I've read about it in the newspaper, in The Daily Prophet, as they call it, Igor Karkarov has kept me informed of the matter.

“Do you still have contact with that man?”

“Sure do i! He and I have been friends for years and he has been affected by the thing as well. The poor man has had to hide in a hut on the outskirts of Bulgaria from where he has been able to get hold of influences who send him copies of the newspaper every month. Otherwise we would both be in the dark. So i’m very sorry for what i’m about to tell you, Professor Lexington, but I will not accept any kind of resignation on your part.

“Madame, if you'll just let me....”

“Much less when you plan to join Dumbledore's madness. I'm sorry, but you'd better get back to your classes”

The thing was, that the issue was about more than just Dumbledore, it was about protecting your family, your friends and in the worst case scenario, the entire magical community. You may not have been present at Hogwarts a year ago, but you firmly believed what Dora had told you about Cedric Diggory's murder; there was no reason not to believe in the Dark Lord's return, cause even those who were Death Eaters had been disappearing overnight. And you firmly believed in your sister's word, she, being an auror, was aware of the severity  of the situation and that's why she was strongly asking you to go back home and help her in any way you could.

No, you couldn't stay at Beauxbatons for a second longer.

"It is a pity that you don’t accept my motives, Madame, but I have already made up my mind. I have packed my bags and will leave immediately with or without your approval" The woman was about to retort, however, you stopped her "I believe in my sister's word and of course I believe in Lord Voldemort's return.

"Don't say his name!" Madame Maxime shrieked, covering her ears. Byron shuddered

"Cedric Diggory shouldn’t have died and we mustn’t stand idly by; there are people out there fighting and dying at the hands of dark magic, spreading fear and starting an internal war that we may never be able to get out of. Desolé, madame, but I cannot stay out of this. I have learned much here, and even managed to control my powers, despite that, i’m loyal to my family and, therefore, i’m loyal to Albus Dumbledore.

You turned around, ready to leave when the giant's powerful voice stopped you.

"Professor Lexington, are you aware that if you leave the school you will never return?"

You looked at her over your shoulder

"Believe me, Madame, if you refuse to believe in the return of He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named and try to make others believe it is so, then I have no desire to return."

Leaving the office, you ran down the stairs trying to get to the front door. After all, from France to London wasn't too long a walk, you could just disappear and show up at the place Dora had marked for you. You would if you had the slightest idea where that place was.

A few hurried footsteps followed you, stopping you in front of the main door.

It was Byron, who was carrying a small suitcase on his back.

“Hey, you don't have to run away from me, honey”

“Leave me alone, Byron”

“Well, okay, listen” He grabbed you by the cheeks as you tried to leave the castle. Your eyes met his, noticing how a smile began to form on his lips “What you said to Olympe was wonderful, it really was. And you of all people know that I also believe in the return of you-know-who”

“Do you?”

“Yes. I was about to tell Madame Maxime my reasons to resigning  when you arrived”

“What are those reasons?”

Byron smiled sideways, stroking your cheeks.

“I want to fight against Lord Voldemort”

“What”

“Just as you hear, dear. After all, that's our job as Aurors, isn't it? I can't stay in this castle and pretend to be a teacher when they may need me out there. I've heard about the Order of the Phoenix, about Albus Dumbledore, his name is going around the world. So i want to be a part of it too”

“Byron...”

“Just... let me come with you, okay? You'll need all the help you can get”

Byron being an auror of a higher rank made everything easier, because then you would have extra help against the Dark Lord; however, you weren't prepared to be around him any longer than necessary. Byron stroked your cheek and, smiling, he opened the door for you. You sighed, taking his hand to disappear from there together.

[writingwitharlo]

Sound of Comfort

Summary: Teddy isn't a happy bunny, but there is something that can always lift his mood. (tiny bit of angst, little bit of comfort, loads of fluff)

Teddy Lupin/Victoire Weasley

A/N: no idea what this is but it's whatever, enjoy, i like this idea, haven't really seen this much i don't think

The silence in the Hufflepuff common room was disrupted by the sound of footsteps descending down from the entrance.

Victoire looked up from the book she had been reading to occupy herself as she waited for Teddy to return from his evening's detention. Earlier that day, he had asked her to help him with a potions assignment and, of course, she wouldn't leave him hanging, even though it was already getting late.

Her mouth opened as said boy came into view, ready to ask him how it went, but seeing the dark and tired look on the Hufflepuff's face, her lips shut again. Victoire got to her feet, ready to greet him with a hug, or whatever he needed but before her hand could even made contact with the older boy's arm, he had already pulled away and muttered a low 'Don't touch me' as he headed straight for the boys' dorms.

Confused and concerned, Victoire exchanged a look with Teddy's best friend and fellow Hufflepuff, Caden, who had been lounging around the common room as well.

(Caden and Teddy were the only two Hufflepuff boys sorted into their year, meaning their dorm was only ever occupied by the two of them. This obviously contributed to both of them becoming very close friends, and essentially like brothers.)

Caden shrugged and jerked his head in direction of the boys' dorms, gesturing to Victoire that she should follow him. The Ravenclaw simply nodded and made her way quietly to their shared dorm room.

Carefully, she opened up the door and peeked inside. At first she was unsure if Teddy was even there; the lights were off and there seemed to be no sound. The pile of shoes and clothes next to the dresser, however, told her otherwise.

Victoire inhaled deeply before stepping inside, gently shutting the door behind her but with enough force so that Teddy was aware somebody else was present. With a quick flick of her wand she ignited a couple of lamps, flooding the room in soft warm light.

"Teddy?" she spoke softly, observing the lump underneath the covers on the far left bed. When it didn't move, Victoire approached slowly, settling down next to it quietly and resting a gentle hand on top what she could only guess was Teddy's shoulder.

They stayed like that for a little while until the lump moved, but only enough to lift one corner of the covers. Victoire didn't need to be told twice; she took the corner and scooted closer to the warm body underneath, draping the covers over the two of them.

Victoire's arms slid around his torso as she pressed herself close to the other's back, her nose burying into the back of his neck. Only their heads were now poking out from the covers. Teddy had stripped off his jeans and socks, leaving him in his boxers and the long-sleeve shirt he had worn all afternoon.

"What happened?" Victoire whispered quietly, resting her cheek against his shoulder.

"It's stupid," Teddy grumbled, his voice a little raspy.

"It can't be that stupid if it made you this upset."

There was more silence and Victoire almost accepted that she would not be finding out today, but with a huff Teddy began explaining the argument he had gotten into during his detention with a Slytherin boy.

It didn't sound like it had been a serious argument, but by the end of it Professor McGonagall decided to check on them, just as they reached the height of the argument. Of course the Slytherin threw him under the bus and Teddy got dealt another days detention.

Victoire couldn't help the soft giggle that spilled over her lips, causing Teddy to look back over his shoulder at her. She slightly released her grip on him, allowing him to turn over and fully face her. "Sorry," she whispered, placing a hand over her mouth. She didn't mean to be insensitive.

Teddy pouted at her, but he already seemed less upset than when he had first returned. Nevertheless, Victoire opened up her arms for him, allowing the Hufflepuff to snuggle close. His head rested against her chest, tucking itself beneath her chin as his arms snaked around her body instinctively.

Victoire's fingers found their way into the other's blue hair, combing through the soft curls. "Tell me, what can I do to chase away this grumpy-grump?" she asked softly, scratching the back of Teddy's scalp and smiling as she felt him melt into her touch.

Teddy didn't reply with words, only a soft groan.

"Is this helping?" Victoire asked with a chuckle, focusing the gentle scratches to the base of his scalp.

Another hum.

Victoire laughed, letting her head fall back onto Teddy's pillow. It would never stop being adorable how much Teddy's mood could be affected by physical affection, it was like dating a human sized puppy.

Teddy's arms tightened around her, drawing her closer by her waist. He had his arms placed between her cardigan and the vest top she was wearing, giving his hands full access to rub her back.

The Ravenclaw smiled to herself, letting her eyes flutter shut as she felt his warmth traveling up and down her back slowly before sliding back around her waist.

One thing Teddy inherited from his father was his lankiness. Built tall and lean, his arms could easily fully encompass Victoire in their grip. He held her so close, that his hand could reach the respective opposite sides of her waist.

Victoire let out a content sigh, planting a couple gentle kisses to the top of the other's head.

Teddy slowly lifted his head, looking up at the Ravenclaw with a face of innocence. "I think I know what might help," he mumbled quietly.

Victoire raised a questioning eyebrow, bringing one of her hands up to brush a stray curl out of Teddy's face. "Yeah? And what would that be, my love?"

Before she had even fully asked the question, Victoire knew she was in for trouble.

Teddy's eyes darkened slightly and a playful smirk tugged at his lips.

Only a sharp inhale of anticipation was heard before the poised fingers struck their target. Victoire let out a shriek of surprise at the meticulously executed attack before she was subjected to a peal of giggles. The fingers rapidly clawed at the softer parts between her lower ribs.

It wasn't often that Victoire found herself on the receiving end of these torments. Quite early on, even before they started dating, Victoire was aware of Teddy's persistent physical touches. A squeeze to the knee, an arm wrapped around the shoulders, a quick scribble to the back of the neck, it was Teddy's most frequent gesture of affection. So it only made sense that the Hufflepuff boy craved similar gestures in order to receive the same affection.

It didn't take long for Victoire to realise that Teddy would purposefully put himself into situations that would make him victim of a good tickle. Whether that was being extra sassy with his responses, or annoying Victoire when she was trying to study, or even just playfully tackling Caden to the nearest cushioned surface, it would always eventually lead to the same scenario.

Now that Victoire and Teddy had spent more time together and learned more about the other's ways, it almost came natural. Of course, this was one of the less common situations.

"You're mehean!" Victoire protested as she tried to push Teddy away by his shoulders. His grip was so tight, however, there was absolutely no chance she would be able to free herself.

"I'm just taking up your offer to help me," Teddy replied, the smile on his face much to smug for the Ravenclaw's liking.

Every now and again, Teddy would get into these moods where nothing but a squirming Victoire beneath him could quite satisfy.

Teddy let one of his hands climb higher up Victoire's ribcage, forcing her to clamp her arms down, which was futile since another set of arms was already in the way.

"Nooho! Ted!"

Teddy grinned and halted his attack. His grip loosened and his hands settled flat against her back where they wouldn't do any real damage.

"Merlin," Victoire panted, a few residual giggles still bubbling over. "Next time, give me a head's up at least." She looked down at Teddy's still smug face and rolled her eyes, planting her hand on his face and shoving him away. "You had planned this from the start, didn't you?"

Teddy chuckled as he flopped onto his back. "I didn't actually"

He looked back at her with sincerity. "After you laughed at my detention story, I was reminded that your laugh is actually really comforting."

Victoire wanted to roll her eyes at his sappy reply but from his face she could tell that he was actually being serious and the tips of her ears turned a little warm. "You couldn't have just said that?" she huffed also flopping onto her back.

Teddy shrugged, biting down on his bottom lip. "Where would be the fun in that?"

There was a moment of silence between them, with Teddy watching Victoire, unsure if he had overstepped some line and with Victoire staring up at the dorm ceiling, still a little breathless.

"You're really going to be the end of me, you know that?" Victoire suddenly spoke, sitting up and discarding her cardigan before laying back down.

Teddy's eyes widened in confusion and he propped himself onto his elbow, unsure what she meant.

"You get five minutes. Do your worst."

"W-What?" Teddy asked.

"You heard me."

Teddy got onto his knees, the covers now long forsaken as they slid off the bed onto the floor. "Are you serious? You are serious." He could barely contain the grin that split across his face as he straddled just one of her thighs, giving her enough freedom to kick him off if she really felt the need to.

"Don't eye me up like that, Lupin. Just get it over with already." Victoire wanted to squirm under his intense gaze and felt her body heat up slightly. Even with his disheveled hair and crumpled shirt, he could still express something menacing if he wanted to.

Teddy hovered over her, planting his hands on either side of her head. "You're the best girlfriend, did you know that?" he murmured, pressing his lips against hers for a moment.

As he pulled apart, he grabbed each of her wrists and slowly brought them together above her head where he pinned them easily with one hand.

Victoire swallowed, instinctively tugging at her arms but not surprised when they barely budged. "I hope you know that you'll be getting your share after this."

Teddy chuckled and took in the body beneath him, his eyes getting caught on the strip of skin now visible as the hem of the thin top had rucked upwards.

"Oh, god," Victoire whispered and Teddy looked at her with a smirk, his free hand coming up to lightly trace across the bare skin.

With a suppressed squeak, Victoire tried to suck in her belly as much as possible. Not that that was going to save her.

His hands were warm and gentle, but tickled nonetheless. Only when a finger dipped into her belly button and wiggled deep against its base did Victoire break, a loud clear laugh erupting.

The touch felt like it was coming from inside her body, causing the Ravenclaw to twist her pelvis from one side to the other but with no success.

Now that Teddy had begun he was not holding back. A claw formed over the center of the belly, the fingers twitching just ever so slightly and yet were enough to produce a completely new sound of desperate laughter.

As the tormenting fingers passed by her ribs and reached Victoire's armpit a little while later, she could feel that she was reaching her limit. There was no way of telling how many minutes had passed. For all she knew, it could have been 2 or twenty.

Teddy gave her the shortest of breaks to catch her breath before lightly tracing sloppy lines and circles from her upper arm to her upper ribs and back again.

"Ahaha, fuhuck!" Victoire snorted, making a move to bite at his hand.

Teddy gasped, retracting his free hand but keeping her pinned with the other. "Did you just try to bite me?" he asked accusingly, that certain look in his eyes that always left Victoire feeling giddy and hot.

"Nobody said... I couldn't," she replied factually while still trying to catch her breath.

Teddy licked his lip as his eyebrows shot up and he nodded slowly. "Very well. Nobody said I couldn't either."

Before Victoire could even process his words, Teddy had released her arms, using both hands to grab ahold of the vest top's hem and revealing her full stomach to which he pressed his face, playfully biting and nibbling at the skin.

Victoire shrieked. Not only were the gentle nips and the occasional swirl of his tongue torturous, the 7th year was also starting to grow in a decent amount of stubble, meaning with every movement, the prickly hairs sent tiny electric sparks through the Ravenclaw's nerves.

Said Ravenclaw trying her best to curl in on herself but it was no use. Teddy had found his new target, which meant the only defence was offence.

With her head thrown back in laughter, Victoire blindly searched for his open spots. One hand managed to find its way across the back of his shoulder and into his armpit while the other explored every inch of his exposed neck.

Needless to say, Teddy's attack did not last for much longer, interrupted by scrunched shoulders and shouts of protest. Victoire's revenge was quick to follow.

Only when Caden eventually returned to the dorm were they able to agree on a truce. As they collapsed next to each other, cheeks burning and stomach's hurting, both of them knew they weren't leaving that bed until the next day.

[my-writings-and-musings]

Hey, if you're still doing those angsty oxygen scenarios, could you do one with Rumble? I know he's not a lost light bot but it would mean a lot to me

He means a lot to me too, anon. Plus as I see it, being a Lost Light bot is a state of mind.

Here's all my previous posts with this popular prompt!

Part One: Here!

Part Two: Here!

Part Three: Here!

Part Four: Here!

Part Five: Here!

Part Six: Here!

Part Seven: You are Here!

Part Eight! Here!

Part Nine: Here!

Part Ten: Here!

Part Eleven: Here!

Part Twelve: Here!

Rumble

·The story of how you both ended up on the Lost Light is a long and rather ridiculous one, but thankfully you're both quite happy now with the way things have turned out. Hanging out and playing video games is one of the more calm and non-destructive things you two do around the ship, and it's an activity he adores having someone to share with, as not too many bots share the hobby. Being absolutely tiny by Cybertronian standards but huge compared to you, he typically encourages you to sit on his lap while you game together, something he claims is only done to ensure you both can see. Being a good sport, you agree so he can keep protecting his reputation as a tough bot who never cuddles anyone, and also because you know he's secretly in need of said cuddles despite his claims otherwise. You're well in to a rather relaxed gaming session when an emergency communication pings both of you.

·Quite open about how annoyed he is, the feeling only grows when the line is barely audible, static blurring all but every other word of what sounds like a rather urgent message. Though he does try to ask for a repeat of what's said, when the feed simply dies he's quite tempted to just ignore it and keep playing games. Admittedly that sounds good to you too, but being on a gigantic alien vessel makes you far less comfortable at the prospect of things being uncertain, as what's minor to the bots can be quite dangerous for you. Initially your gentle insistence on seeing what might be going on only gets an exaggerated groan regarding how it's probably nothing and that the two of you are having fun so who cares? The pouting is something you're rather accustomed to, so you follow a strategy of gentle pushing to get him moving, which results in him growing ever more dramatic until he's lying back on his second hand couch as if getting up would be physically painful.

·A gentle kiss on his nose finally melts away his immature resistance, but only after he blushes like a lamppost and huffs to try and pretend he's not doing it because you've convinced him or anything. With one last sorrowful look at his console, he hefts you into his shoulder and moves out, not willing to wait on your tiny human legs. Though he's obviously grumpy there's still care and consideration in how he walks with you, as he's never going to risk dropping your squishy human self if he can help it.

·Repeated attempts to comm anyone for some information turn up nothing but static, and that leaves both of you quite confused, with the minibot commenting on how odd it is that no one is answering. Being near the living quarters at this time of day means there's no one around to ask, so he hurries along whilst looking for a signal, reasoning that the two of you should head to the bridge or somewhere equally important to look for answers. Knowing he has way more experience in this than you do, you happily let him take the lead, smiling softly at how your agreement makes him puff up with pride. Being a mini has made him rather unaccustomed to any kind of leadership, so even the simplest praise or deference always means the world to him.

·His ego boost is quite rudely interrupted by a sudden tremor through the ship, though he's hardly knocked off balance for long due to his unique skills. Keeping his footing solid and you secure on his shoulders, he immediately asks if you're okay once the floor steadies beneath him, knowing that it was just a little shake but worried nonetheless. You assure him that you're fine, which convinces him to hold you a little less tightly. Looking up into his visor, you're concerned to see his usual calm replaced with a much more serious expression. It's one you know to only expect when things are about to get bad. As he starts walking again, he explains that, as an expert on seismic things, he knows that the ship has just been snagged. Having an internal sensory system specifically designed to detect these things also makes him certain of the exact size of the enemy and where it hit; and what he detected isn't good.

·Despite being less than half his height, Rumble is your immediate worry as he goes on to explain more of the situation, talking more to cut through the quiet to calm his nerves. You know that you're not built for alien robot battles, but quite frankly, neither is he. Not on his own at least. Though he'll surely deny it now, he's confided in you that without his brother or a bigger bot to sync up with... fighting anything but other minis is a lot harder. Knowing that makes you press him gently on a plan; where should the two of you go to be safe?

·As expected he's immediately adamant that he's fine, but his attitude to you is another story, as is obvious by how he shifts you completely into his arms and holds you tightly. With a promise that he won't let anything touch you, he surprises you with a completely unrestrained sense of protective drive, something quite out of character for a bot that usually struggles with deep feelings. Knowing that ships always have extra guards stationed at key locations, he decides to hurry his way to the medical bay, secretly hoping not to encounter any enemies on the way. Not that he's embarrassed to be a mini or anything, but in moments like these he really wishes he could be big and strong for your sake... Pushing those thoughts deep down, he hurries along and tries to focus on how cool he looks carrying you to safety. Maybe after all this is over he'll be able to tell some awesome stories about rescuing you.

·Seeing you get a little sleepy absolutely baffles him, and he gives you a little tap to wake you up with a tease about taking poorly timed naps. Not having realized you were nodding off, you rub at your eyes in confusion, suddenly aware of sleepiness that certainly wasn't present earlier. At your continued and obvious exhaustion he's quite worried. Had he better practice at driving with an occupant he'd have given you a ride to save time, but even at the best of times previous attempts at that were disasters, so in your current state you'd probably end up getting seriously hurt... It's yet another thing to regret as he holds you closer and hurries along, secretly trying to establish communication so he can hopefully get some answers. The lack of success makes him more worried with every passing minute.

·Though Rumble is no stranger to cuddling behind closed doors and carrying you to show off his strength, this is the first time he's held you like this in public for so long, and it feels very nice. You know he's worried about you, but it's getting harder to focus on staying awake and comforting him with his arms keeping you so secure, and his little spark humming so warm and strong right next to you. Only his gentle pleading for you to keep your eyes open prevents you from nodding off, mostly because his voice is so sad as he does so, and you can't handle seeing that sweet face grow any more worried. Clearly it must be bad if he's openly showing his softer side. You're aided in staying awake by a rather unexpected visitor nearly stepping on the minibot as he enters a hallway, and in the panicked blur that follows your mind is just sharp enough to catch the towering form of a very unfriendly alien before you're laid on the ground and Rumble charges forth in a preemptive strike.

·Though he's every bit as fearless as he usually is in appearance, in his spark he's absolutely terrified as he breaks out his piledrivers, the lack of his brother or Soundwave leaving him with a sense of total helplessness that he has to force down for your sake. The alien is a kind he doesn't recognize, but it's big and clearly hates bots by the way it strikes to kill. Using his tiny size to his advantage, he hammers the legs that are too slow to kick him away in time, striking with a level of force that strains his shock absorbers to a painful limit. The hulking alien collapses as its means of support are demolished in a messy and agonizing attack, but the mini takes no chances, hopping up to the head and delivering a blow capable of creating an earthquake all on its own. He's left panting from the exertion but grateful to have proved himself. Sore from the strain, he hurries back over to you and can't help but ask if you saw what he just did?

·Tiny jubilation is crushed when he hears your weak reply. Even though you're smiling at his victory, you're obviously barely holding on, and that means whatever invisible malady is afflicting you is growing more severe. Scooping you up in bloodied servos, he tries to keep the tears welling in his visor from falling, though admittedly he's not sure why since his image matters very little in the face of losing you. Thinking fast, he breaks open a vent cover and makes use of the claustrophobic shortcut to hurry to the medical bay, ignoring his own overworked body's protests to save you at any cost. Not knowing what the problem could be, he's still tearing himself apart inside over every tiny delay that could now result in the difference between life and death. If only he hadn't hesitated to stop gaming, or had been paying enough attention to avoid that alien... How like him, to prove unworthy of something by ruining it.

·You'd been physically incapable of staying awake as he'd closed in on the part of the ship where help would hopefully be found. Though you had tried so hard and been so heartbroken by his struggles, exhaustion unlike anything had ultimately forced you to rest, with his protective grip on you making it hard to worry as you slipped under. Tears had started to fall without restraint the moment you went quiet. It had made quite a scene when he'd burst into the medical bay, ploughing through a vent cover and startling multiple bots on guard as he yelled for someone to help you, nearly getting shot until he was recognized with you in his arms. Nearby medics had been quick to explain the breakdown of the atmospheric generators and the loss of oxygen, but he brushes all that aside with a single question; will you be okay?!

·Every bot present is immensely surprised by his demeanor. He's known as a troublemaker and a prankster, so even with your relationship to him being taken into consideration, his agony over your condition is not something they could have ever predicted. The loyalty to you is unshakable and obvious even after you receive the care you need, as he refuses medical attention for himself and doesn't care in the slightest when the alien ambush is declared defeated. Not even the prospect of free drinks at Swerve's to celebrate can make him leave you for a second. All he wants is for you to wake up, and to hopefully not be mad once you wake up and learn what happened, which he believes he made worse by being irresponsible and wasting time... Though it isn't allowed, he crawls into your berth with you to snuggle when no one is present.

·You awaken to a much clearer head and the warmth of a bigger body huddled closely around you, and as soon as you open your eyes a familiar frame welcomes you back to consciousness. Whispering a greeting, you're shocked when the mini suddenly clings to you and begins pleading for your forgiveness while also recounting what happened to make you "sick", confusing you beyond all belief at first. Why would the bot you remembered saving you need to apologize? It's only by listening that you realize his misplaced blame is likely motivated by fear, as his hot tears pattering against the berth suggest a bot recently scared out of his wits. The poor mini is blaming himself for his lack of action, in full belief he could have moved faster and should have the moment something was wrong, and sounding quite convinced of his role in your injurey before you shush him as gently but audibly as you can.

·Wiping away heavy tears on his cheeks, you speak clearly through the oxygen mask still secured to your face, reassuring him that he did nothing wrong and had no reason to believe things would play out as they did. When he tries to miserably reply that he's still should have jumped at the first sign of trouble, you remind him that he jumped into action when it counted, taking down an enemy several times his size without anything but his own fists as weapons. Perking up to hear you remember his burst of bravery, he asks a little more confidently if you recall how he punched the alien so hard the hallway shook from the force, and you smile while you assure him that you saw every heroic moment. Hearing himself be referred to as a hero seems to reassure him in ways he didn't know he needed, and the rush of his own gratitude is enough that he hugs you tight without a hint of bashful hesitation. Just being here and safe with you makes it hard to be worried about anything at all.

[a-simple-imagine]

Look Pretty

Requested by anonymous: “Would you please write something with Hermione x reader where they are at slug horns party and the reader is trying to help Hermione escape Cormac and the two are dancing around their feelings for each other or something?”

Pairing: Hermione Granger x fem!reader

Words: 4k

A/N - I’m not sure how i feel about this one tbh but I hope you enjoy it

You had never been one for parties; large social gatherings where people just stood around and talked? What exactly was fun about that. You'd much rather spend your evening in the common room but alas you find yourself stood before a full-length mirror inspecting your outfit for any imperfections. It was considered a privilege to be invited to Slughorn's Christmas party; it was only for esteemed guests and high achieving students. Each student was also supposed to bring a date; this could be anyone the student saw fit. High achiever or not. After some convincing from Hermione, you had agreed to attend the party but now your nerves had you feeling like you could throw up. Outfit number five was beginning to look worse by the second and you wanted nothing more than to just snuggle up in your bed. Y/E/C eyes stare back at you and a defeated sigh slips past your lips. How you wished Ginny or Hermione were here to fight your doubts with their uplifting compliments. Maybe you should change? The first outfit you tried on had been nice.

"How much longer are you going to be?" An impatient Harry Potter calls out to you; it was surprising that his voice carried so well from the common room. Then again, it was rather quiet this evening. With one final glance over your chosen items of clothing, you reluctantly commit to outfit number 5. With a quick spray of something flowery as a finishing touch, you descend the stairs to join your fellow wizard.

"Calm down, Harry. I didn't know you were in such a rush."

"I'm not," He turns around just as you reach the bottom step, his smile beginning to fade. "I just never expected you to take so long- you look nice."

"Really?" You look over yourself with a grimace. It didn't feel nice. "I'm not too sure I like it anymore. Maybe I should have worn something else."

"I honestly think you look lovely," He assures you with the kindest of smiles. Such a genuine boy, you have no reason to doubt him.

"Then thank you," It was hard not to feel a little embarrassed. "You look... rather dashing yourself, Mr. Potter," His dress robes were nothing to write home about but they suited him well; sleek black paired with a reddish shirt and a black bow tie.

"Shall we head out?" Harry holds out his arm in offering to which you gladly accept. Looping your arm through his before leaving the Gryffindor common room together.

It was a pleasant evening as the two of you wandered through the corridors. The quiet corridors a stark contrast to the normal hustle and bustle of Hogwarts School for witchcraft and wizardry. You rather liked how peaceful it seemed. The looks of strangers, on the other hand, you didn't appreciate. Don't these students have better things to do?

"So who did you end up inviting to the party?" Harry asks, relieving you of your increasing self-consciousness that came with the silence.

"No one," Your first choice hadn't been available so why bother with another. It just seemed like an unnecessary task. "Everyone had dates already- Who did you ask?"

You knew whoever it was they were just a substitute for who he really wanted to go with. Otherwise, he probably wouldn't have agreed to let you tag along. "Luna,"

"Loony Lovegood?" It was a nickname that often drifted around the castle for the unique Ravenclaw. And not always with the nicest intentions but she welcomed it like it wasn't supposed to be an insult which you found rather intriguing. "interesting choice."

"I wasn't sure who to ask, honestly." He defends his choice. Harry Potter was the chosen one, he could have invited just about any girl to this party and they probably would have said yes. Not to mention that you had overheard that Romilda Vane was hoping he would ask her. She's basically obsessed with him. "And she's my friend so why not?"

"Oh it wasn't an insult- I actually adore how weird she is," Perhaps Harry had been wise to bring his eccentric friend; she'd surely liven up any dull party with her unique tales. "She's like the perfect dinner guest."

You look to him from the corner of your eye wondering what exactly he is thinking. You probably would have asked him if he hadn't already arranged to go with Luna. "You should have just asked Hermione," Harry says after a moment bringing a sour taste to your mouth. Your relationship with Hermione could be easily summed up in one word; Complicated. She was one of your best friends and you wouldn't change that for the world but you also couldn't deny that you had begun harbouring feelings for her as well. "She would have said yes."

With a heavy sigh, you let your arm drop from around his. From the moment you heard about the Christmas party, you had been under the assumption that you'd go with Hermione But when the time came to actually ask her, Harry informed you that she had a date already. Which was fine. She was allowed to go with whomever she likes. "How do you know?"

You hadn't expected to sound so bitter but it couldn't be helped. His shoulder bumps against yours and you weren't sure if it was intentional or not. "Call it a feeling."

"You know what potter? I don't remember asking for your opinion," you huff defensively, storming off just a few steps ahead. "You can't talk anyway- why isn't Ginny your date tonight?"

"Why would Ginny be my date?" You have to stop yourself from laughing. He couldn't be serious. Anyone with half a brain could figure out that he had a thing for the Weasley girl and honestly who could blame him; Ginny was a talented young witch, very smart and beautiful.

"It doesn't take a genius to work out you have a thing for her." You continue with a roll of your eyes. "I know it. Hermione and Ron know it. Everyone knows it- even slug club thanks to you making a fool of yourself during that dinner party."

"I didn't make a fool of myself."

"You did though," You chuckle, thinking back to the night in question. It was a slug club dinner party and Ginny had shown up late. She may as well not have come at all considering you were eating dessert by the time she arrived. Hermione suggested it was because of Dean and you wouldn't be surprised if that was true. "You basically leapt out of the chair, Harry. It was really awkward to watch."

"I was just being polite," You highly doubted that. "And she is with Dean anyway so I suspect they'll be attending together."

"I guess... Dean's cute but Hermione says they're always fighting," Extra emphasis on the always. It wasn't really any of your business but as a close personal friend to the youngest Weasley, it was hard not to get involved. "You two, however," you glance towards the chosen one in all his glory. You come to a stop before him, adjusting his crooked tie so it sat perfectly straight. "Would make quite the pair."

All talks of crushes were lost among the wind as you rounded the corner almost crashing into the young Ravenclaw that stood waiting patiently. Catching yourself before the collision, you take a few steps back. "Hey Luna," Her outfit could not scream Luna Lovegood more if it tried; it was silver and reflective. "Don't you look... shiny."

"Thank you," Had you meant that as a compliment? You weren't too sure but she took it as one. Falling behind, you listen to Luna’s ramblings during the short walk left to Slughorn's office. The ceiling and walls had been draped with emerald, crimson and gold hangings which resembled a tent. There were way too many people here for your liking which made it awfully hot and stuffy. You almost instantly found yourself alone within the crowd feeling terribly awkward.

When with friends like Harry, Ron and Hermione, you could talk forever given half the chance. But being put into a situation surrounded by complete strangers and you'd freeze up; it was hard talking to people you either didn't know at all or only saw in passing. Hiding away in the corner of the room, you search the room for someone you knew. You spotted Neville walking around offering drinks to the guest from his silver Tray. Ginny was halfway through a conversation with Dean; thankfully she seemed to be smiling. Meanwhile, Snape was looking very bored as Slughorn drones on about one thing or another. You never expected to see Snape here but apparently he had been a past member of the Slug Club. No surprise there considering he went on to teach potions. After what felt like a lifetime of standing awkwardly on the sidelines, you finally spotted Mr. Potter just outside the makeshift walls. "I told you not to leave me alone with these people," You whisper-yell as you push the fabric aside. Harry seems surprised by your sudden interruption but all attention has turned to his companion. It was none other than Hermione Granger in a little pink dress; she looked beautiful even as she shoved something into her mouth. "What are you two doing?"

"Hermione is hiding from Cormac," Harry answers, signalling towards the other girl with a flick of his wrist.

"McLaggen? That's who you came with?" Cormac McLaggen, in your less than favourable opinion, was as sleazy as they come. He had shown interest in Hermione but she had never shown any in return. So why had she chosen him over you?

"I didn't have a lot of other options," you share a look with Harry who looked almost sympathetic towards the situation. He was the only one who knew that you had planned to ask her and was also the one to crush your dreams. "Oh god, he's coming over here," She quickly reaches for your hand which brings heat rushing to your cheeks. "Come with me,"

Following her lead, you crouch down and allow her to drag you back into the crowd leaving Harry to deal with McLaggen. "Why are you here with him if you don't even like him?"

"Because he actually asked me." Her words felt like they were directed at you but maybe you were just trying to make something out of nothing. You wanted to tell her that you had planned to ask her from the start but you don't. Now safely on the other side of the room, her hands slip away from yours. "But he's so bothersome. I don't think I can put up with it much longer."

It was her fault but again you keep that to yourself. "Why did you drag me along? I'm not trying to avoid him."

"As a distraction so look pretty." Look pretty? Before you can ask what exactly she meant by that, her hands are against your arms, spinning you around quickly to face a rather irritated McLaggen. This didn't feel right but it was too late to pretend you hadn't seen him now.

"What am I supposed to say?" Your whispers for advice are ignored or more accurately unheard. This conversation was destined to be very awkward.

"Where'd she run off to now?" He comes to a stop before you, running his hand through his dusty blonde hair.

"Who?" He had obviously meant Hermione. But it seemed you were running on autopilot as the word drifted off your lips before you even had a chance to think. He probably thought you were rather idiotic now but then again did you care what this slimeball thought about you?

"Your friend?"

You swallow a lump in your throat. Guess the plan now was to continue playing dumb in hopes of him giving up. With your bottom lip wedged between your teeth, you pause in thought for just a moment. "You mean Harry?"

"I'm obviously talking about Granger? She was just with you?"

"Was she?" Surveying the room, you pretend to search for the girl in question. Luckily enough she was nowhere to be found so your act must look rather convincing.

"So where did she go?"

"Who?" Fighting back a smile, your attention returns to McLaggen; his growing annoyance was evident in the creases forming across his forehead. If it had been anyone else, you'd probably feel bad for them. Although, you will admit that it was rather harsh on Hermione's part to be leading him on like this instead of making her intentions clear.

"Hermione Granger?"

Your shoulders rise in a quick shrug. "I don't know what to tell ya mate."

"Nevermind- I'll find her myself." With a sharp spin, he morphs back into the crowd finally leaving you in peace. You let out a breath you didn't realise you'd been holding as the pressure to cover had been elevated.

"So where is Hermione," This time the source was none other than Harry Potter; who was now standing by your side watching the party unfold. Neville seemed to have bumped into someone who was now causing quite the stir.

"No clue, she ran off somewhere," Stopping a waiter as they pass by, you take a small glass off his silver tray. The contents were golden yellow and you weren't quite sure what it was exactly.

"I don't understand why she agreed to come with him anyway." Sure, he had asked her but that didn't mean she was required to say yes. That had been her own choice which no longer made sense considering she was actively running away from him.

"Who knows," Harry muses aloud. "maybe it's because Cormac doesn't try to hide his interest in her."

"What's that supposed to mean?" You look to him with a scowl. You had never tried to hide your feelings for Hermione but the same could be said about trying to show them. It wasn't exactly something you went around announcing to everyone.

"Nothing," He offers you a flash of a smile as he slinks away to save himself from the upcoming argument. "If you'll excuse me."

Harry scurries away leaving you alone at the party once more. It seemed only fitting for you to take your leave now and head back to the dorms; you hadn't wanted to come in the first place. Plus you didn't feel like having to deal with Hermione and Cormac anymore. The commotion drew your attention for a moment but with a heavy sigh, you head for the exit. Why on earth would Draco Malfoy of all people gate crash such a lame party?

"Thank you," Remnants of your drink now spilt down your chin as you coughed in surprise. Hermione Granger has suddenly appeared once again bringing with her an aura of sweetness.

"Don't- do that," you swat her arm playfully, wiping away your flavoured drool. "You- almost- killed me."

"You're being a little dramatic," a gentle smile paired well with a roll of her eyes. "What did you tell him?"

"Cormac? I decided to play dumb and act like I had no clue."

"Must have been rather easy for you then," You raise a brow; was that a joke?  

"You do realise that agreeing to be his date, has probably given him the wrong idea?" You muse, placing the now empty glass down. It was feeling sticky between your fingertips, "And as his date, you shouldn't be running away from him. It's awfully rude, miss Granger."

"I had to bring someone," Hermione looked away from you, a heavy sigh drifting into the crowd. It seemed whatever had happened regarding Draco had sorted itself out. "And he just so happened to ask me."

"You can't avoid him forever," You wonder where the man in question has wandered off to. He couldn't have gone far. Catching Luna Lovegood's gaze for the first time since arriving, she gave you a little wave.

"That's part of the problem."

"Maybe you shouldn't have come with him in the first place, Hermione." You insist sharply, glancing back at her. "You always had other options."

Had you not spoken about the party beforehand than perhaps you wouldn't be filled with such bitterness.

"I would have said yes," Hermonie gently takes your hand in hers. Her thumb dancing delicately over the back of your hand; your entire body seemingly relaxes. "If you asked me, I mean."

Her words felt invasive; as if she had somehow managed to read your mind. Recoiling from her touch, you step away. Crashing into a rather tall lady with deep dark brown hair. She shoots you a less than favourable look before moving on. "Who said I even wanted to ask you?"

"Harry," Seems Mr. Potter had decided to try and play Cupid where he wasn't wanted. You make a mental note to talk to him about it later.

"You could have asked me," you throwback sourly. "Instead you chose McLaggen- someone you don't even like," A harsher tone but you remain quiet in order to avoid drawing unwanted attention. Heading for the exit, Hermione trails after you like a little lost puppy. Why couldn't she just leave you alone? "Maybe next time you should stop playing games."

"Who did you come with?" Hermione asks softly. It's almost drowned out among the noise. 

"No one." Your head drops. "I thought about asking Ron but he was busy with Lavender." The sound of the party grew distant as you stepped into the empty hallway. "Stop following me 'mione, go back to the party."

"I'd rather stick with you," Hermione brushes up beside you, falling in line. It was cooler out here and you were grateful for it.

"What about McLaggen?"

"All the more reason to leave," An uncomfortable silence falls over the two of you as you head back to the dorms. You never realised how eerie this place was when it wasn't full of students.

"Did you know Lovegood sleepwalks?" A harmless question to fill the void. "So she sleeps with shoes on although I think slippers would be the smarter choice."

"What?"

"She's an odd one," you smile softly at her. "But interesting,"

Speak of the devil, Miss Lovegood rushes past the two of you. Her dress twinkling in the moonlight.

"Heading back too, Luna?" You call out bringing her to a stop. The blonde turns back to the two of you.

"I am," She nods offering up a tiny smile as she waits for you to catch up. If it wasn't already awkward before it definitely was now. Nobody was speaking to each other so it was just like some weird silent adventure back to the dorms.

"Did you enjoy yourself, Luna?"

"It was alright," The blonde responds quietly. "I did manage to lose Harry a lot."

"Typical Potter," you shake your head in disapproval. "I was thinking..." You bump your shoulder against Luna's. "we should have tea together sometime?"

"Tea?" She muses out loud, "That sounds lovely."

"Great. I will send you an owl," Then Luna just up and turns down the corridor to your right. That wasn't the way to the Ravenclaw common room but maybe she wasn't heading back? With a little wave, you watch her skip away.

"You can be quite forward it seems,"

"What?" Your brows furrow.

"I just don't understand why you didn't ask me? We could have gone as friends?"

"I don't see why you're so mad at me when you're the one who had a date," you fight back.

"You're so oblivious,"

"Enlighten me then,"

The girl comes to an abrupt stop making you slow down. Turning to face Hermione, she seems unable to meet your gaze. "I wanted to ask you but I heard that Zabini was going to,"

"Zabini?" Never, in a million years, would you have thought that Blaise Zabini was interested in you. It was not a bad thing; Blaise was very cool and mysterious but also like too cool for you. Way too cool. "I wonder why he didn't."

"You would have said yes?"

"Better than going alone." You shrug a little.

"There you go then," Hermione huffs, storming past. Was she angry at you for considering another date when she herself attended the party with someone else? "Next time you need a date, go with him."

"Passive-aggressive much,"

"Forget I said anything,"

It was a silent walk back to the common room other than the moment Hermione had to say the password for you to get inside. The problem now was that you happened to share a dorm room with Hermione so there was no way to escape her judgemental eyes. After getting changed, you decided it's best to just retire for the night.

"I would have liked to have attended with you this evening had you actually asked me," Hermione expresses quietly. "When you didn't, I made other arrangements."

"I don't understand why I have to be the one to ask?" You respond. "You're perfectly capable of doing it. And besides, you didn't have to go with McLaggen, Hermione. That was a choice so you clearly didn't want to go with me that badly."

"You can't be serious," She groans loudly. "Why should I have to go dateless because you can't be bothered to ask me unless you don't have any better options."

"That's not even accurate," you growl back. "You're just making stuff up now."

"Will you two shut up," Ginny Weasley interrupts, leaning against the doorway. 

Heels held in her hands suggesting she had also just returned. "Everyone can hear you arguing."

"It's-" Ginny glares at you; shutting you up. Falling against your bed, Hermione sits upon her own as the youngest Weasley enters the room. "It's not fair that you insist on playing games and then get mad at me."

"It's not fair that you're mad at me because I found another date when you didn't ask me,"

Ginny sighed loudly. "Hermione. She didn't ask you because by the time she worked up the courage you already had a date. She was always going to ask you, she just thought you'd wait for her." Then her eyes fall to you, she looks very unimpressed. "Hermione on the other hand, heard you'd be attending with Zabini and so she was planning to make you jealous by going with McLaggen okay? you both like each other so either sort this out and go to bed or go argue somewhere else."

Ginny leaves you alone with Hermione and neither of you seems to know what to say. You were just a little surprised she would go out of her way to make you jealous, it seemed a little childish which wasn't her style. "Who knew Ginny could be so scary?"

The two of you share a smile which transforms into gentle and very quiet laughter. "You were scared to ask me?"

"I wouldn't say scared just... I didn't know if I had to ask officially. I kinda just expected us to go together but then Harry said you had a date." You shrug, fiddling with your hands. "You tried to make me jealous?"

"Don't," Hermione buried her face in her hands. How sweet she was. "I'm embarrassed enough."

"I still think you should have asked me," you lay down against your bed, snuggling against the sheets. "But I'll make you a deal. Next time I need a date, we shall go together okay? No matter what it is, you will always be my first choice."

"Alright, deal," you try to look at her but it's hard from your position. Listening as she climbed into her bed and switches off the light.

"You looked really pretty tonight."

"Thank you," she mumbles. "As did you."

[nexyra]

James Ironwood, for character ask? 👀

Aaaa thank you so much for the ask ♡ More rambling incoming !! Sorry for the wait btw, I've been both pretty busy and tired ;;

If you hate James Ironwood and don't wanna hear one good thing about him tap out now please ღ

My fav ship(s) for the character

I am not a super big shipper when it comes to James, but there are still some I like more than others soo here goes :

I think Ironwitch is a pretty good one. It's not necessarily a ship I'd search content for but I think these two would work well together ! Glynda is stern and honest and a no-nonsense kind of woman. She has the strenght to stand up to James when he slips or gets too stubborn when faced with the high stakes. At the same time, we've been shown that she cares for him and she knows he's only trying to do what's best for people. She has faith in him but also the ability to stand at his side as an equal. She seems to be the more steadfast of Ozpin's circle : loyal, you know you can trust her, and she will not crumble. This is the kind of personnality that I think James both admire and feel safe with. And the other way around, I think James is a good match for Glynda too. On a day to day basis, he's serious enough to not annoy here, but he's also a softie in some aspects and that's a nice combination to smooth out Glynda's edges.

Ironqrow is a completely different dynamic. The "we're annoying each other" dynamic is not one I'm particularly interested in usually xD But these two certainly had strong & interesting moments so it's a pretty valid ship !! Despite how they might butt heads because of the difference in their upbringing they (prior to V8) clearly trusted each other with their life. Even if Qrow jokes about shooting himself if he had to be one of James' man, when everything goes to shit there is no doubt in his mind that James wasn't responsible. Similarly, while James talks of shooting Qrow for his misbehaviour, when push comes to shove and we meet a tired Ironwood, run ragged by the pressure he's under... the only thing he does is hug him and reiterates how glad he is to see him. So again, they clearly have a lot of faith and trust in the other, and that's solid ground for a relationship.

My least favorite ship(s) for the character

Same spiel as always, shipping kids and adults is a big no from me; so any ships between Ironwood and RWBYJNOR can qualify here. That said, among the less uncomfortable ones, here are those I don't really like

This one is again because I love their relationship but platonically only, I'm talking of Winter Soldier. The reading I like best is not that Ironwood is Winter's Jacques 2.0, nor that he groomed her; but that he was an important father figure in her life. Protective and caring, who tried to help her escape with what he knew. I don't see James recruiting Winter as a way to gain a strong ally. But rather that Winter wanted to detach herself from her family name, and make something worthwhile of herself all on her own. And that the military is what Ironwood knows and understand, so naturally it's a career he'd see as a good path. Just like Winter then proposed it to Weiss. I like to think they care about each other a LOT and they're their own tight family in between the lines, even if professionalism might throw a wrench into it. For short I love them together but not romantically please =)

I don't know if there's a ship name for this, but Salem x James Ironwood would be a big nope from me too... In general, let's just assume I ship Salem with nobody because abuse.

My fav & least fav platonic relationship(s) for the character

Fav platonic relationship would be (have been because we dont talk about V8?) with Winter. Fooor the reasons I've explained above I suppose x) I (again) love the trust they had in one another and the quiet support.

There was also his relationship with Oscar that I really liked during V7, although it has been soured a bit by the (valid) reading from some people that Ironwood sought out Ozpin a lot through Oscar, and given his identity issues it is not ground for a greatly healthy relationship. Their interactions were still very intersting though ♡ I consider Oscar to be the kid who went at trying to appease James' fear or make him reconsider his decisions the best way. There was true understanding and hope for a working relationship here. I do feel that Oscar put in more work than James however (emotionally) and I wish there had been pay-back instead of a gunshot.

For my least fav relationship ? Probably Robyn or Watts ? Robyn was always very antagonistic toward Ironwood since their priorities are so different. And I overall just don't really like her after V7 so there are very few relationships with her I'm interested in (the exception is her ship with Fiona I think it's cute). Meanwhile, Watts is just a petty asshole hell bent on ruining Ironwood because he didn't pick his project. I'm not very interested in hate relationships, and since theirs wasn't deeply explored anyway, it's even more the case here. Their fight was great though, one of my favorite RWBY fights !

My favorite thing about the character

Well this was completely proven wrong by V8 buuut as of V7 I liked that he was a deconstruction of the military general (dictator) trope. Sooo you can guess how i feel about V8 X) In general among RWBY, several of my fav are fav BECAUSE they look like one trope but also have key differences that from the get go make the character stray away from said trope. For example I'm not a fan of the princess tsundere archetype at all, but I loooved Weiss in V1 BECAUSE she was extra-willing to listen and change her mind, and you could very easily tell that it was her upbringing speaking more than herself in most occasions.

Similarly, I wasn't a big fan of Ironwood before V7. I didn't hate him you know and he wasn't lower than most characters in my Tier list but I also didn't particularly care. But you know what ? I've aaaalways had a really soft spot for the "angsty angry traumatized teen". And RWBY made the mistake of extending that soft spot to "tired adults trying their best" (only to repeatedly beat them up/make them villains after making me care about them but what can you do uh)

Soo in general, I loved that Ironwood was trying so hard. I loved that he was tired and in over his head but learning and listening and trying to do good and be better despite his fears. I liked that he told his entourage about Salem and was loyal. I liked that he cared about helping the people above his own image and the way people perceived him. I liked that you could tell this was a terrible situation all around, and his decisions WERE questionnable but we could SEE that he meant WELL and was genuinely trying so hard despite how scared and tired he was.

My biggest criticism for the character

Well this won't be a surprise but in general I just wished he had stayed a morally grey character we were allowed to feel for instead of a cartoon black villain. I didn't need James to be THE Hero or anything like this despite some accusations levelled at those who like him. Him becoming one of RWBY's antagonist is honestly fine by me ! It is interesting. But I'd have preferred they kept him ambiguous and trying in his own way. (And smart because V8 Ironwood was dumb af)

I can be a tad overprotective of his character since he's just... so despised, so I think that I have inadvertently distanced myself from any of his flaws... somehow like "people are already yelling all of them so I don't need to add to this shit show" you know ? skjfkd But I KNOW he has them and it would still have been good to develop his flaws, just... not like that

But yea I'd have liked it if V8 Ironwood DID diverge from RWBYJNORQ and became an antagonist but not an iredeemable villain. LIKE,, we redeemed Hazel and Emerald and IRONWOOD is where the writers draw the line by saying "nope this one is rotten" ?? What ?

When was their writing at the peak according to me (ex : best season)

V7 definitely ! Ironwood carried V7 so hard haha. His character was fleshed out and given nuance and made to struggle and evolve and I loved him in that volume.

A song I think fits them & why

Hunger • Monsters & Men Human • Rag'n'Bone Man Way down we go • Kaleo Beekeeper • Keaton Henson Thistle and weeds • Mumford and Sons Castle of Glass • Linkin Park It's all so incredibly loud • Glass Animals

A headcanon to make up about them

His metal parts impact his metabolism so Ironwood is terrible at holding his alcohool and very little manages to knock him out. He's a workaholic. His low tolerence for alcohool is a great tool whn friends need to put him to sleep.

His joints crack and hurt in the cold, his metal parts as well and they are an hassle in the sand. James like to keep his room temperature warmer than the average atlasian because of this, otherwise he has to spend 30 min every morning simply unwiding muscles to move around efficiently.

He's not a good singer but has a nice low voice for telling stories. If he had kids, he'd probably avoid lullabies but compensate with bedtimes stories.

What I would change about them if I was making a re-write

As always, I'm kind of reflecting along the way as I write this, and one thing I'm thinking right now is... Doesn't it take away from the atlas arc message ITSELF to just pile up so many "standard bad guy" stuff on Ironwood ? Like, I wanna ask... why do we hate him ? Is he an antagonist because he lets fear get the best of him ? Because he's a classist who doesn't care about Mantle like some fans argue ? Because he's too stubborn and wants to be THE hero ? Because he doesn't listen to others ? Because he abandonned Mantle ? Because he kills peopke left and right ? Because he wanted to bomb a city ? I think you might see where I'm going with this : his status as villain is kind of messy. V8 just kept piling-up flaws and villainous actions onto Ironwood with no concern for whether this was a lenght he would go to (using the certainty that he would go to any lenghts to enact his plans), ,or whether these were one of the initial flaws/failings that led to his "fall" as an antagonist. What lesson is Ironwood supposed to learn ? Personally the very first time I yelled at my screen "No ! Why would the writers choose that ?" is when Ironwood shot Oscar. When answering criticism against medias, many people tend to look at it only through the lense of "well it makes sense in universe" or as if there were no other ways for the story to devolve. But at the end of the way, everything in a story is a choice from the writer even if it is influenced by the characters' personnalities. If I took the scene where Ironwood shoots Oscar, someone might tell me "he's crippled by his PTSD, he COULD do this." Maybe, that's a reading I can somewhat understand at least. But the writers have the power to NOT put his character in such a position. When I saw the wreck that was V7 finale, I ranted to my bestfriend about it and at no point did i say "why did Ironwood do that", I said "why did the writers make him shoot Oscar, the only point narratively would be to make irredeemable" Aaaand that's what they went for and I obviously didn't care for it. So if I had to rewrite it; I would have kept Ironwood's "mistakes" more focused. If he's wrong because he wants to abandon Mantle, because he's (understandably) scared and doesn't want to take risks; then stay focused on that. It's what makes RWBY leave, and out of all his V8 actions that's really the only thing RWBY needed to tell the whole world he wasn't an ally anymore apparently. - Don't make him shoot Oscar point blank, instead Oscar can simply fall because he flinches away from Ironwood's outburst; and a distraught/guilty Ironwood can decide that he doesn't have the time or capacity to help because of the tense situation. (Killing and not saving someone don't hold the same moral weight at all). - Don't make him kill people left and right or bomb cities, maintain the flaw of Ironwood struggling with his PTSD and his fear and not being able to take risks. - Don't paint him as a black villain, and eventually write V8 in such a way that RWBYJNORQ show taking risks might lead to a bigger victory, which was the volume's theme anyway. For example, following Oscar's destruction of the whale, a growth can occur that would bring back together the two anti-Salem factions : Oscar's risk put Atlas out of harm's way, which leads to Ironwood seeing that maybe there WAS a way to save Mantle as well as Atlas despite Salem's presence and he might have jumped the gun too quickly because of his fears. I'm not sure, I haven't thought about this extensively honestly but I hope you see what I mean. I think it would have been more focused & more in-character to focus Ironwood's failings on his fear; and the fact that he cares for the people and the greater good sometimes at the cost of the individuals. The idea that by sacrificing individuals too much you forget the people you're fighting for in the first place, could have been interesting to dig deeper into. Keep to the idea that Ironwood is somewhat disensitized to the individuals suffering for the sake of the greater good, instead of making him just

callous & uncaring.

My guess for their MBTI/Enneagram

I think pre-V8 Ironwood was an unconventionnal ENFJ. Aka, the type of character no one would type ENFJ because they go by stereotypes and Fe stereotypes are just enneagram 2 everywhere (aka nice, kind, helpful) whereas Ironwood has an enneagram tritype very common among xxTJs so that's what he looks/behaves like, but the way he thinks (what's best for the people, ethical values derived from an Atlasian upbringing) align more with Fe cognitively I think I'm going with ENFJ 6w5 1w2 3w4

Starting from V8 though, Ironwood veered clearly into ENTJ territory (types aren't supposed to change but I wouldn't say RWBY is the most consistent media when it comes to characters' personnalities)

One aspect that I think would be nice to delve deeper into ?

I understand why they didn't care to, but it'd have been interesting to get a few backstory hints for Ironwood. How did he lose half his body ? How did Oz recruit him ? Or some pieces about his upbringing ?

[cassandraclare]

Our December flash fiction piece, A Lightwood Christmas Carol, is the second part of a two part story. If you didn't read part one last month, or want to refresh your memory, click here:

Otherwise, read on!

PART 2

“So,” Gideon said to Will the next night as they patrolled together in Mayfair, “the whole thing was a wash. I’m not murdering some poor bastard’s dog.”

Patrol with Will was normally a relaxing experience for Gideon. They enjoyed each other’s company, and demons had become so scarce in London that almost all of the time it was only a night stroll with a friend. Will even periodically recommended that they investigate for any suspicious activity in some local public house known to him.

Tonight, of course, there would be no ordering a quick round as a cover story for interrogating, i.e. merrily chatting up, the barstaff; Will was far too full of Christmas spirit. He had insisted on taking them by Trafalgar Square and spent many minutes in admiration of its temporary giant tree, and had stopped—twice!—to admire groups of carolers and applaud them. Gideon was bearing up well, he thought, considering. He even got into the spirit a very tiny amount, which is to say he was willing to eat some of the roast chestnuts Will bought.

Now Tatiana (and the dog news) had deflated Will’s mood, and Gideon felt a little badly about it. Will was frowning thoughtfully. “Why not just offer her money?” he said.

Gideon sighed. “Because Tatiana has plenty of money, all of our family money. And Gabriel and I have only our salaries as Shadowhunters. She doesn’t need money.”

Will looked scornful. “Everybody likes more money.”’

“Normally I would agree with you,” Gideon said, shaking his head, “but you did not see Tatiana’s state of mind. She cannot be approached in the way you would approach a rational person. I must do this task for her, but of course I cannot. Hurt a dog, of all things. I would never. Disgusting.”

Will stood looking past him for a long moment, and eventually Gideon said, “Will?”

“We will take care of it,” Will suddenly said. His gaze snapped back to Gideon’s face, and he was smiling. “We will give Tatiana what she wants, and we will not hurt any animals in the process.”

“We?” said Gideon, raising his eyebrows.

“Well, it’s my plan,” Will said reasonably. “So obviously I’ll be along.”

Despite himself, a smile played at the edges of Gideon’s mouth. That was the one thing he had over Tatiana, after all. He wasn’t alone.

###

The front door of Chiswick House swung open with somewhat more speed than it had two days prior, and Tatiana’s suspicious face appeared. She was wearing the same dress she had been wearing before, to Gideon’s dismay. In her left hand she carried the cleaned skull of some unidentifiable small mammal; Gideon didn’t wish to inquire why.

Tatiana’s glare quickly moved from Gideon to Will, who was bopping up and down nervously behind him. Will had insisted on coming, against Gideon’s better judgment, and only now did he realize the possibility that Tatiana might not even see him if Will was along.

Will, for his part, did his best. “Hullo, Tatiana my love,” he said. “Many greetings of the season! How excellently you’ve kept up the place.”

Tatiana blinked at him, startled out of whatever she had been about to shout. Gideon knew that Will had three good nips of brandy in him, and reckoned that was probably the best way to handle the situation. Meet the unexpected with the unexpected.

“Why have you brought my nemesis to my house?” Tatiana said, in the same tone she might have used if she were asking why Gideon had failed to return a book he’d borrowed.

“Crikey,” said Will. “Nemesis? Tatiana, I bear you no ill will. Have I ever, even once, interfered with your life? With your going about your business?”

“Yes,” said Tatiana. “Twice. Once when you murdered my husband, and once when you murdered my father.”

Will made a choked noise. “I murdered your father because he murdered your husband! And I didn’t murder him, he’d changed into some kind of great serpent.”

“A worm, Will,” said Gideon quietly. “He was a giant worm. Not a serpent.”

“As I remember,” said Will, “it were a great wyrm, from the depths of the Abyss, that we dispatched.”

“It was not,” said Gideon.

“It was my father,” ground out Tatiana, “and I wish to know, Gideon, why you have brought him here? I asked you to perform a task for me.”

“And I have performed it,” Gideon said briskly. “Mr. Herondale was good enough to come along, to help protect me from this most vicious of dogs that you described.”

“It’s actually quite vicious,” Will agreed.

“If you’ll just let us come in,” Gideon said.

Tatiana squinted at both of them as if trying to see through a possible glamour. “Well, come in, then. But you won’t get tea.”

“Tatiana,” Will said with an understanding chuckle. “There’s obviously no way I would ever consume any food or drink at your house.”

This was going rather well, Gideon thought.

Ensconced back in his father’s office, with no tea offered nor taken, Tatiana said, “Well?”

Gideon reached into his jacket and lay a dog’s collar, a weathered length of leather cord, down on the desktop with a flourish.

Tatiana looked at it and then up at him. “What is this?”

“It is the dog’s collar,” Gideon said. “A trophy of our dispatching it.”

She looked at it again. “This tells me nothing. You could simply have taken the collar off of that dog.”

“Madam,” said Will, “if I may? No man could possibly have taken the collar off of that dog. I would advise no man to put their hand within several feet of that dog’s neck, if they wish to retain said hand. Now that that collar is off, no man could ever put it back on.” He spoke in serious tones.

“I need something more,” Tatiana said. “If you killed the dog, you must know where it is. Go back and bring me the dog’s tail, or something.”

“Tatiana,” Gideon began, but Will interrupted.

“If I may again,” he said, “the dog resides on the far side of the very tall and very pointy iron fence that stands between the dog’s property and the road. Climbing over that fence at all is a feat that I would advise only the most well-trained of Shadowhunters to attempt once, and I would recommend they do it empty-handed, rather than carrying some random bit of dog. I’m afraid that the collar will have to suffice.”

Tatiana sat back and shook her head, dissatisfaction wrinkling her mouth. “Proof that you have dispatched the dog,” she said, “and not merely that you have encountered it.”

Gideon waited for Will to jump in again, but Will was silent. He seemed unsure how to proceed. Finally, he said, “Tatiana, give him the papers. Because it’s Christmas.”

“What?” said Gideon in disbelief.

Tatiana looked at Will with loathing. “Mundane holidays are meaningless to me.”

“I should have guessed, yes,” muttered Will.

“Please,” said Gideon, at the end of his rope. “My son—he’s…he’s like your son.” Tatiana stared at him in silence for a moment, so he pressed on. “He’s…he’s very small, and he’s often ill, and we worry about his survival. We worry about when we will put Marks on him. Like you do, with your son.”

Tatiana continued to watch Gideon in silence with a lizard-like stare.

“I know we do not see eye-to-eye on our family history,” he said doggedly, and ignored Will’s quiet hmph! from beside him. “But we are family nevertheless, and we may both have…inherited something. From our father. Something we’ve now passed to our sons. I must look through the papers to see if there is any clue there.”

She stared for a long and agonizing moment, and then she said, “Get out of my house.”

“Tatiana,” he began.

“How dare you compare your son and mine!” she said, her voice rising in volume. “Anyone could guess where the weakness in your son originates, and it is obviously with your decision to mix your blood with the most mundane you could find!” Her voice had risen to a shout.

“Sophie is an Ascended Shadowhunter!” Will shouted back, staunchly, and Gideon realized he was happy that Will was there.

“I don’t care!” Tatiana shouted. “My son is of the blood of two of the oldest of the Shadowhunter families. He is not weak like your son. Go back to your weakness, Gideon. Get out of my sight, get out of my house, and do not darken my door again. I have not missed your company, nor your brother’s, and I am relieved that my child will not grow up under the corrupting influence of either of you.”

Gideon made to stand up, but Will said “Tatiana, if I may yet again,” and he sat back down. Tatiana glowered at him. “I think,” Will went on, in a newly serious tone, “that if you and I could step outside into the hallway for a moment and talk in private—just for a moment. Give me three minutes, that is all. And after that, we will depart and we promise never to return. Right, Gideon?”

Gideon did not much wish to promise never to return to the house he’d grown up in, so he only said, “Whatever you wish.”

Tatiana examined Will’s face carefully, and then said, “You have two minutes, starting from this moment.” She rose from her seat and made for the door.

“Will, what are you—” Gideon began.

Will put the tip of his finger to his lips to quiet Gideon. “Trust me,” he said. “I believe that I can create a Christmas miracle.”

Helplessly Gideon watched his sister and his friend depart and close the door behind them. The seconds ticked by. Two minutes passed, then another two, then three more.

Then Tatiana came back into the room, followed by Will. Gideon tried to read Will’s expression, but it was neutral, nonchalant.

In Tatiana’s hands were two notebooks, packed with loose papers supplementing their own contents. Their covers, and the loose pages, were densely smeared with soot. “The papers of Benedict Lightwood,” she said. “You do not deserve them. And I am not gifting them to you. They are part of the house, and the house is mine, and they are also mine. You shall have them to peruse or copy at your leisure for the term of one week, and if they are not returned by that date, in their original condition, may the Angel have mercy on your souls. Both of you,” she added in Will’s direction.

Will threw up his hands in surrender. “I really just came for the dog-wrestling.”

Wondering, Gideon took the papers from her. He turned to look at Will, who murmured to him, “A Christmas miracle,” with a small smile.

#

“Come now,” Gideon said in the carriage on the way back from Chiswick, “what did you say to Tatiana to make her concede?”

It was snowing, that rare snow with very little wind, so flakes fell in a picturesque fluttering, rather than battering at the carriage like they might have as they made their way through Hammersmith, back in the direction of Central London. Will leaned back in his seat and gazed out the window.

“Well, if you must know,” he said, “I delivered an extremely well-considered speech, touching on the topics of the importance of family, the virtue of forgiveness, the need for all Shadowhunters to be allied in the fight against demons, the smallness of the sacrifice being asked of her, the pointlessness of revenge, and, of course, the giving nature of the season.”

“Oh?”

“Yes,” said Will eagerly. “And then, I counted banknotes totalling two hundred British pounds sterling directly into her hand.”

“Will!” said Gideon, shocked.

“I told you,” Will said airily. “Everyone likes money. Even mad revenge-seeking sisters, with the dried blood of their husbands on their frocks, like money.”

Gideon was flummoxed. It was an enormous sum. “You didn’t have to do that, Will,” he said. “She doesn’t deserve the money.”

“What she doesn’t deserve,” Will said hotly, “is the moral victory. It was money well-spent to be gone from that house.”

Gideon opened the journals, marveling at Will Herondale. His financial standing was better than Gideon’s own, surely, but two hundred pounds was an enormous amount of money, well more than Will could throw away on a lark. And yet he’d not hesitated to wield that money for Gideon’s sake, had in fact, Gideon now realized, brought the money with him on purpose.

So strange, Gideon thought with a sidelong look at Will, who continued harrumphing to himself quietly in victory. At this moment this boy he’d despised as a child was more his family than his own actual sister. And he found he was able to accept that. A Christmas miracle indeed.

“I really had better return these to Tatiana in a week,” he said, examining the journals again before he started reading. “Or she’s like to set a demon on me.”

Will chuckled. “Ha. Maybe she would at that.”

Gideon paused. “She might, you know. All jokes aside. It’s a legitimate possibility.”

“It is,” agreed Will, a little more grimly.

Minutes passed, during which Gideon skimmed the papers, frowning. After a time he found himself back at the beginning, and he wrinkled his brow, bemused.

Will turned back from where he had been watching the Bath Road go by. “What is it?” he said.

“There’s nothing here,” Gideon said, frustrated. “Plenty of terrible things, of course. My father was a…a…” He struggled for the right word.

“Monster?” suggested Will.

“Pervert,” said Gideon carefully. He shuffled through the pages until he found one that was only an elaborate diagram his father had made up in pencil and showed it to Will.

Will blinked at it. “Jiminy,” he said.

“But there’s nothing here that would cause weakness or fragility in his descendants,” Gideon went on. “No curses, no hexes, no demon poisons….”

“Only the pox, then,” Will said dryly.

“Yes, but that isn’t hereditary,” Gideon said. “We looked into that years ago for our own sakes.” He shuffled the papers. “All that trouble, and for nothing. Thomas remains frail and I remain unable to do anything for him.”

There was a silence and then Will said, “Gideon, it is Christmastime, and Christmas is a time to tell the truth. Wouldn’t you agree?”

“If you say so,” Gideon said, waving his hand. From his experience Christmas a time to sing in the street and eat a goose, but who knew what strange traditions Will had from his mundane childhood. “In any event, I’d agree you should tell the truth whatever the time of year.”

“Gideon,” Will said, clapping his hand on Gideon’s shoulder. “There is nothing wrong whatsoever with Thomas.”

Gideon sighed. “That’s very kind of you to say, Will, but—”

“But nothing. Thomas is just small. Sometimes children are small. He’s not cursed or hexed.”

“He gets sick,” Gideon pressed. “All the time.”

Will laughed. “Do you have any idea how sick Cecily was as an infant? She was colicky, and then she had fevers…she cried more than she slept, those first few years.”

“And then what?”

Will threw up his hands. “And then nothing! She grew! She fell ill less and less often. That is the way of children. And we did not have terrifying mute telepathic doctors to take care of us. Does Thomas eat? Does he exert himself when he does feel well?”

“Yes,” Gideon admitted.

“Well then,” said Will, leaning back as if his point was made. “Put your mind aside from your supposed cursed family. Tatiana’s son is sickly—does that surprise you, now you’ve seen the house? Now you’ve seen Tatiana? No, of course not.” He looked at Gideon intently. “Thomas’s only trouble,” he said firmly, “is that he is an adorable wee thing.”

Gideon stared at Will. Then he broke into laughter. Will laughed too, his usual hearty chuckle, and Gideon found himself feeling better. He was still worried about Thomas—he would be for a few years, he knew, until the boy had passed the time of worrisome childhood ailments and could be protected with runes—but he felt better nonetheless. He had thought of many ways he might feel on the way back from his sister’s house, but “better” had not been one of them.

“Christmas miracle,” Will whispered gleefully.

Well, thought Gideon. Some kind of miracle, anyway.