#reminding the audience who he is and his position in relation to everyone else

[eggcats]

not to "uwu" Alastor in any way, but it's WILD to me how many people act like him asserting dominance to Husk as a "omg he's the worst! Husk is so innocent!!! Alastor is just as bad as Valentino!!" esp when in comparison to the V's (and to Angel and Valentino)

bc like, Husk WAS ALSO AN OVERLORD. HE ALSO BOUGHT AND SOLD SOULS. HE GAMBLED THEM, WHICH IS ALMOST WORSE, BECAUSE IF I SOLD MY SOUL TO ONE PERSON I DONT WANT THEM TO JUST SELL IT TO THE NEXT HIGHEST BIDDER!

like the 2 aren't really comparable - it's heavily implied/speculated that Val in some way tricked Angel in his contract, meanwhile Husk gambled and lost and sold his soul to Alastor to keep his powers as an overlord, just without the title or souls

I'm not saying it's not a bit fucked up with Alastor's threat to Husk and Husk's fear, I get that 1000%. But sometimes I feel like Husk fans who hate Alastor forget that Husk landed HIMSELF in that position and Alastor just took advantage of it - he could have just lost everything INCLUDING his power instead

Like he says it himself, "I sold my soul to keep my power" bro knew what he was getting into - he ALSO owned people's souls the SAME as Alastor

I'm not saying Alastor is innocent, or he's secretly a good guy, or that you even need to like him - but the hypocrisy gets me here bc we don't KNOW how Husk was as an overlord, but him being an overlord doesn't make him an innocent victim in this!

[zukosdualdao]

just… the absolute trust between zutara in the finale is unreal. after zuko’s impromptu training attack session, yes, katara is surprised and even somewhat angry as she confronts him, but when she says “you could have hurt aang!” all it reminds me of is the fact that just a few episodes ago, she literally threatened to kill him if he ever gave her a reason to think he might so something to hurt aang. but here, now, even as she’s confronting him, she just… waits for him to explain, and she actually sees and agrees with his point once zuko tells the gaang about ozai’s plan.

there is also the absolutely, 100% synchronized way they fight during the simulated training session, something that calls back to their synchronization and teamwork in the southern raiders, and that inherently shows a lot of trust and understanding between them.

katara is the one who initially asks zuko what they should do after aang disappears. everyone else agrees, but it's katara who trusts him enough to position him, not just to herself but to everyone else, as someone they should listen to because of his history, skill, and experience, especially noteworthy because the reason she gives—“you are sort of the expert at tracking the avatar”—is what used to make him untrustworthy in their eyes. they’ve come such a long way.

then katara notices zuko freeze and sit in front of iroh’s tent, and when she asks if he’s okay, he just… completely trusts her with exactly what he’s feeling, and if he’s even a little worried that what he’s saying might cause her to act derisively, because what he’s referencing here is also what katara was angry and hurt about, he doesn’t show it. he just so completely trusts her with it, and her insistence that iroh will forgive him is born from her own trust of zuko, and she's able to tell him what he needs to hear because she was once in iroh's position and zuko proved his genuine remorse and care to her.

then, of course, we've got zuko not missing a beat as he asks katara to be the one to come with him to confront azula, and her ready acceptance. they make a good team, and they know it.

but when they get there and azula challenges zuko to an agni kai - though she initially has misgivings, katara ultimately trusts zuko when he says he can handle it and understands that he doesn't want her to get hurt if she doesn't have to. (an aspect of zuko's "i can't explain it, but she's slipping" line that i think gets underexamined, btw, is that that's not an inherently good thing for them. yes, maybe that means zuko will be able to take her, particularly because he knows azula and her fighting style well. but someone who is "slipping" is also, in this case, desperate, and more prone to being reckless with people's lives. zuko tries to mitigate that by fighting her alone, but it doesn't work because azula can't follow the terms she sets when she realizes she's losing.)

the lightning scene is a really interesting example of trust as it relates to zuko and katara, because to me, the emphasis there isn't quite so much on zuko and katara trusting each other. there's barely time for katara to think through what will happen to as azula aims for her or wonder what zuko will do, after all, and zuko is probably in too much pain and too out of it to think about katara coming to try to heal him. (though if they did have the time and mental faculties to think it through, i think they would both 120 percent trust the other to help them.)

instead, the emphasis is on the audience trusting the characters. from the moment zuko sees where azula's aiming, he doesn't hesitate, doesn't even think about, just. immediately jumps in front of the lightning before it can reach katara. i've said this before, but as soon as he understood what was happening, there was just no chance of that lightning ever getting to katara and that's the point. we've seen what zuko looks like when he's hesitating or conflicted, and the difference is stark. the show never wants you to question exactly what zuko will do, that he refuses to let katara get heart, that he'll save her.

and for her part, katara immediately runs to try and save zuko despite azula still being around and attacking, and tries again before realizing she needs to defeat azula in order to do so. but the entire scene of katara's defeating her, while obviously heroic and emblematic of katara's power and the culmination of her arc as a girl whose culture and identity was nearly stripped away from her to being a master waterbender, is also framed as katara defeating azula so she can get to zuko. she would have done it anyways, yes, but in this context, right now, she is fighting azula so she can get to zuko to heal him.

here, in the narrative culmination of their arcs together, it shows not just that they trust each other, but asks the audience to not doubt the development of the dynamic that’s been built, to trust that they will take care of each other. and they do.

[chuuyadelune]

one thing that struck me about today’s BSD season 4 episode (aside from the world-turning-to colour moment, which was super dope!), was the use of levels and positioning. in particular, i’m referring to ranpo’s scene here, where he makes his address to the audience.

first of all, the imagery of him being on a throne directly calls to his self-proclaimed new status as the “world’s greatest detective”. but what’s also interesting is just how high up he is.

it’s not so clear in those first screenshots, but here, you get this very clear view of how high up he is. he’s on the tallest level of the stage, above murakami, the policemen, and the audience.

this whole sequence takes place after fukuzawa hands him those infamous glasses, and tells him that he’s gifted. ranpo believes he’s an ability user, and so, this separates him from the masses in his mind, who are visually represented here by the audience on the ground (including fukuzawa, who hasn’t discovered his ability yet at this stage). and this not only separates him from them — it elevates him. putting him on, not only the stage, but the highest part, emphasises the difference in his self-perception. he is different from the regular ‘monsters’ because he is an ability user: a rarity, an urban legend of sorts.

even here, when the police officer (who is definitely not suspicious at all) comes over to compliment ranpo and fukuzawa, the concept of levels is at play. this police officer is, to our current knowledge, a regular, non-gifted human. he even expresses shock and awe at the fact that he’s in the mere presence of an ability user. ranpo is at the top of the stairs, again, emphasising his position as a gifted ability-user, someone beyond the skills of a regular human.

and ranpo’s (literal) elevation, especially in the stage scene, is also linked to the themes of the play itself, i’d argue. and like, full disclosure that i’m long overdue for a reread of untold origins since my memory is very blurry at best, so i’m just going to be basing this off what the anime does with the play (since, after all, this is a post analysing the relevance of positioning and layers/height/elevation in the anime).

at the start, it’s stated that angels are ‘gifted’ beings — and the word used here is, to my knowledge, the same as the word for ability user (please correct me if i’m wrong!). so the association is immediately established: gifteds — ability users — are strong, beyond human comprehension, and powerful enough to strike a fallen angel down. so that is to say, stronger than the normal, status quo.

there’s religious (largely christian) imagery written all over the stage. at the start, one of the fallen angels in the play is ‘murdered’, and the imagery behind is undoubtedly a nod towards the crucifixion of jesus. and this position and framing here very much reminds me of an altar. especially with murakami’s ‘corpse’ under the (white!) cloth.

ranpo’s position, above everyone, being deliberately above the cross, the centre of the spotlight — it’s almost as if he is some higher being. something there to cast judgement above all. something like… an angel. who are gifted beings, according the play, as he himself believes he is, since he’s been dubbed an ability user by fukuzawa.

indeed, the murder and the play are deeply connected — but so’s the symbolism of ranpo rising above everyone else and the concept of ‘gifteds’/‘ability users’ and the concepts laid out in the play. at least, in my view.

positioning has always been used in the BSD anime to display power dynamics and relations, and it’s a similar concept here. the subtle details make all the difference to the way we view the anime, i think. and that’s the power of visual storytelling!

[access--granted]

Apologies for keeping this nonsense going, you must be exhausted, so I'm clarifying before I speak - delete this ask if you don't want to address this topic anymore.

Anyway, to offer a different perspective, I have personal substance issues. Life's been lifeing and I eventually turned to not-so-healthy coping mechanisms over the last few months. Fan fiction about this is my safe way of exploring my feelings about it. This widespread assumption that I need a handheld, sugar coated portrayal to cope is offensive. Shying away from difficult topics is censorship. Period. And it is a big issue because it carries a massive real-world impact on those who use fiction to escape. The same cowards criticising you will bang on and on about "representation in media", but won't note their hypocrisy.

I'm not a baby, I don't need the teletubbies to show up and remind everyone that Leon is flawless and a hug willl fix him. The fact that there's a new age approach that hails this crap as gospel, is more dangerous and harmful than one might think. I know it's stupid, but I am utterly fuming on your behalf.

That fic was the first gently thought out, yet brutally realistic piece I've found in AGES (this isn't pressure to repost!!). The fact you were bullied into believing you did something immoral just... it fucking irritates me to no end. I am so tired of this huge scream for censorship, I'm tired. Just don't engage if it triggers you, it's that easy. The rest of us adults have every right to explore darker aspects through fiction because it is SAFE. It's safe and it helps people. Talented writing is a life skill. It truly is. (Also on an amusing note: if they think me exploring his drinking habits is sinful, I would he sent straight to prison for the smut I read, lmfao!)

I'll end it by saying THANK YOU for the effort that you made. If it's better for your mental health not to post about that specific thing anymore, then please don't, but damn I'm not leaving without saying thank you for that honest portrayal of how addiction and alcohol dependency harms people and how it feels for everyone involved. You've got a talent and your empathy is very noticeable. Fuck these puriteens, lmao.

You have nothing to apologise for, anon. I'm certainly not going to shy away from talking about specific topics on my blog just because other people don't know how to ignore content they dislike. I already made the mistake of letting a bully get to me during a low point, resulting in the deletion of a piece I was both proud of and that had all-around mostly positive feedback anyway. I still appreciate your concern, though.

I completely understand that life has been lifeing, as it has been for me, too. I wrote that piece because I want my fics to be inclusive to a more widespread audience so that more people can relate. There's a lot of happily ever after fic out there, even some that completely ignore the struggles that happen in real life, too. So, I thought I'd write something different. I'm all for fluff, smut, romance, etc. But there is so much content for that already. I wanted to, and will continue to, add mature content to my writing, but not in the sense that it's always about getting Leon naked and doing the devil's tango with him.

I'd like to say also that it's not at all stupid for you to be fuming about this; I certainly am, and even more so for letting asshats get to me.

I'm happy that my representation of the issue was well thought out and realistic in your eyes. The thing I was most nervous about, to begin with, was getting things right. While I've never dealt with it personally, I had a very close friend who went through this, and many people left them behind. I will be reposting the fic at some point. I was proud of that work, and nobody will spoil it for me or anyone else who finds some kind of solace in reading it. (Also, same - like, why is exploring real-life struggles so outrageous, yet reading a crap ton of smut isn't? None of it should be a problem for people to explore.)

This topic is in no way detrimental to my mental health. I was just down in the dumps for personal reasons at the time anyway, lmao. Thank you so much for your kind words. I'm touched you think I have talent as a writer, and as a colossal empath, I'm glad it's clear to see.

[mysterycharacterflowers]

Round 3; A bouquet with love-lies-bleeding, forget-me-nots and sunflowers Vs A bouquet of yellow foxglove and snapdragon

First, let's talk about the bouquet with love-lies-bleeding, forget-me-nots and sunflowers

Meaning and why these flowers were chosen: Sunflowers for justice and truth, love-lies-bleeding because he lost the only person who cared about him two months before he could truly work alongside him as a partner, and forget-me-nots because he's a living reminder of that person in every way while also very distinctly himself. Description: He's your uncle. Don't have an uncle? You do now. He smiles and flirts a little and jokes about the silliest things even if there's a new corpse on the floor, and he keeps his hand close to his chest, and you'll never catch the motive behind the joke until it's time for him to reveal the truth and prove his every accusation. He's capable and experienced and a living reminder of the man who haunts the narrative, and he won't save you, because if he could, there would be no need for a reminder of a living man. He'll show you how to save yourself.

Check his post here

Now, let's bouquet of yellow foxglove and snapdragon

Meaning and why this flower was chosen: Foxglove, which generally represents insincerity (especially in Victorian flower language) and the duality of hurting and healing, as well as other meanings like magic, creativity, secrets, and insecurity, represents him well because he’s a con artist, of the trickster archetype, and somewhat of an antihero; his actions and plans, while good at the core, often hurt other people at least a little on the way, and he’s okay with that if they’re not his people. Other characters, and the audience, often have reason to doubt his sincerity as a friend and as a partner, for example when he’s helping a business of sorts stay afloat financially while secretly investigating the owner for misdeeds he suspects; he’s generally got more than one motive going on at once. It’s not something I’d blame him for, but insincerity is a constant question when it comes to him that it takes a long time for anyone to overcome. Also, regarding the other meanings, he’s a clever character with subtle magical powers, he keeps a lot about him under wraps from most everyone, and he’s deeply insecure (partially due to feeling compared to someone else and coming up with little to show for it). I’d particularly choose a yellow foxglove because that color has implications of positivity and support, and he is cheerful, friendly, and when it comes to the people he does love, he’s never giving up on helping them. As a bonus (and why I picked this), the flower’s name fits him, as he has a nickname related to foxes. I’d also choose snapdragon, for strength in harsh habitats, and also deception. He comes from a humble background, was bullied as a child, is a little bit homeless during the main story, and lives in a society bigoted against him, but he’s thriving anyway. Deception, meanwhile, is central to his character and something he leans on; he lies, hides, keeps secrets, and has that fear of being perceived, and even his names are a kind of benevolent deception, as being known only by his naturalized name to most people helps keep him safe. Also, snapdragon symbolizes grace, relevant to one career he’s had. Description: He’s a poor trickster who ran away from home as a teenager and joined the circus in order to rescue his missing mother (it’s a long story). He’s loud, extroverted, loving and voracious, has a sparkling personality, and is powerfully annoying when he wants to be. He’s a public figure sometimes but the limelight is deeply not for him. He distrusts many people, including especially reporters, rich people, and the government, which is of course completely valid. He’s a petty thief by necessity and habit, and he always knows a guy. It takes him years of having magical powers to realize that they include invisibility, and when he finds out, the first thing he uses it for is to tickle someone. He’s flirted with a guy he deeply envies and who envies (and kinda hates) him right back; I’m never sure if it’s weirder if he doesn’t like the guy in question, or if he actually does. He’s tried to save a celebrity from descent into alcoholism. He’s committed war crimes against ghosts. He’s narrowly escaped being mobbed by a religious group and has been kidnapped by a popular entrepreneur. He has been deemed ‘strange in all ways’ by a coworker. He loves pastrami sandwiches. He’s not that short but everyone he knows would call him a short king if they had that vocabulary; he has big brown(ish) eyes and he wears a peacoat.

Check his post here

[adrinoir]

Wishmaker vs Real Life

This is going to be a more serious post.

I KNOW I write about this episode so much, but this time I’m relating it to real life. Its relatability is so strong for a lot of the adult audience. I think there’s some really important themes to talk about, so I’m going to fully break it down.

If you’re an adult in the Miraculous fandom, hopefully this helps you or means something to you.

The whole episode concept is fantastic and isn’t like typical Miraculous episodes. It focuses on some heavy subjects including finding your passion in life, seeking out a career for your future, facing familial trauma, and coming to some heavy realizations.

Jobs vs Passions

I know, I know, I’ve talked about Andre the ice cream man’s backstory in a couple of posts already. But, it’s just far too relatable and I wanna dive even further into why it’s such an important theme.

He talks about working at an office which was a job, not a career. To break down what he means, it’s something he felt he had to do to earn money but not something he was truly passionate about. It was just one job in his path, not something he wanted to do for the rest of his life, not an industry he wanted to be a part of.

I’ve dealt with this in real life, and it’s a subject that really isn’t talked about enough. Before I get into it, just a disclaimer: there’s nothing wrong with working an office job. It’s just not particularly for everyone.

I worked for a company in the print industry. I worked with the designs and it was the same routine everyday. And, I quite literally felt like one of those boring adults they portray in kids shows, working a job they can’t stand, looking drained, doing nothing else that makes them happy.

I would sit in the dimly-lit office working myself crazy to get my work done, while also peering out the window at the beautiful day outside that I couldn’t enjoy. I felt burnt out and wish I was physically working myself instead of constantly being behind a computer.

I thought it’s something I wanted to do but it truly wasn’t. Moving forward, Andre found what he loved to do outside of work. He enjoyed concocting ice cream flavors and sundaes. After realizing he loved it so much, he turned it into his full time career, something he wanted to do the rest of his life.

Oh look, I did the same. My dad got me into doing yard work with him. I was physically running back and forth helping him with lifting things. I was driving the mower. It was fun for me. And, shortly after, I had applied for a part time job at an outdoor store and got the position. Turned out I loved it so much, I want to make it full time.

Aside from Andre, the episode also focuses on Luka. One part was how he wants to pursue a career in creating handmade instruments so other people can enjoy and practice music. He gets torn down for it by Alec, because why spend so much money and time on an instrument that can be played through an app on your phone.

Luka shows and tells him it’s not the same as having a physical instrument in hand. And, it’s clear spending years working on an instrument is not a waste of time for him. That’s another important thing to keep in mind.

A narrative that’s so often pushed is that you’re working to make money. Why put in so much time and effort for something that’s not giving you loads of money?

Well, there’s two different sides to this. The one Miraculous specifically focuses on is being passionate about your career, even if it’s not having you earn a whole ton of money. But, there are others who would in fact work a job that’s at least tolerable if it pays well, so that way they have enough to do what they love outside of work.

It’s a matter of, are you working as your passion or working to enjoy your passion? Loaded question, I know. But it’s so important to think about and Wishmaker reminds us of that.

All the while, Marinette and Adrien are trying to figure this out for themselves and what their overall futures hold. They think being heroes could be that, but also consider that is it what they’re truly passionate about and are okay continuing with.

Marinette has a lot of her own passions but does she like them enough to make any of them a career? Adrien can’t figure out his own passions, and is forced into roles by his father. So, he has no clue what he wants for himself.

Often times, teens are pushed to think about what they want when even adults can still struggle to figure that out. It’s a lot of pressure at such a young age.

Familial Trauma

Oh boy. This is going to get heavier.

It’s always been obvious how much abuse Adrien deals with, but this episode further pushed this narrative. Originally, it’s shown it’s just his father’s doing, but in Wishmaker, it’s shown his mother also made some contributions to that.

His whole life, Adrien has been told what to do and how to feel, causing him to struggle in opening up, making his own decisions, and finding himself. It’s absolutely devastating. No one should have to deal with that kind of abuse from their parents.

I unfortunately can relate to the part of being controlled by your parents. I’ve had to deal with it myself, not quite to the extent Adrien has, but enough to cause similar struggles Adrien deals with. It makes life unnecessarily difficult when it is by no means your fault in the first place.

It’s a very realistic thing that parents in real life do, in having certain expectations of their children, sometimes to that point of taking too much of control over their life. It’s so unhealthy, and if you’ve watched Turning Red recently, it involves this kind of parenting too.

It absolutely broke me how Adrien’s “childhood dream” is this version of himself now. This version that’s uncomfortable with his life and identity. All built on the foundation of his parents.

The one good part of this is that he’s been working to find himself and what he loves. We’ve seen a lot of that throughout season 4. It’s a great way of moving forward and I’m happy to see that.

[charlie-minion]

Could the same SPN finale make a little more sense with some additions/changes?

I’ve had the idea for this post stuck in my head for days now, but with every new conspiracy theory and every new eventuality in the fandom, it became difficult to cool down enough to write something less ship-related and more narrative-focused.

What Supernatural and non-SPN fans have to understand is that a lot of us have expressed disappointment and frustration after 15x20, not because of Destiel (that’s just one part of the whole problem), but because the finale doesn’t make sense. Everything was leading up to something beautifully crafted until the end of 15x19. Beyond that, it’s hard to understand what happened. The story rendered all the character growth irrelevant, invalidated the themes of free will and “family don’t end in blood”, regressed to the original brother codependency they spent 15 years trying to overcome, made a queer non-binary character in a male vessel and a deaf female character basically disposable, and kept the show’s reputation of queerbaiting and misogyny until its very last breath.

That’s not going out with a bang! At least not a positive one. We all were ready to mourn Supernatural, but we wanted to feel proud of its legacy, and somehow TPTB managed to tarnish that legacy in less than 45 minutes. What a way to ruin the other more than 13,600 minutes of story!

It doesn’t matter who is to blame (The CW, Robert Singer, Andrew Dabb). It doesn’t matter why it happened (homophobia, censorship, marketing for Walker, bad writing). What matters is that at the end of the day, the finale that aired is what we got and that’s going to hurt for a long time. It hurts even more when we realize that the same finale could have easily made more sense, even without being perfect.

That’s what I want to do in this post. I want to show you how things would have been less jarring (for the fandom), while still keeping the goal to please the general audience.

Before I begin rewriting 15x20, I have to mention that I talked to my conservative boomer sister about the finale. She hasn’t watched the second half of season 15 yet (she’s waiting for Netflix to have it), but she’s been watching the show for a long time (she introduced me to it 8 years ago). She’s the perfect example of a viewer from the general audience. Loves the show but doesn’t give a second thought to it and definitely isn’t paying attention to character development or themes. Doesn’t engage with fandom, actors, or any of the show’s social media. Pure GA! When I told her the series finale had aired, she asked me about it and I refused to give her spoilers. Because of that, she told me the ending SHE wanted. She said she would be happy with either of two possibilities: the boys retiring and finally living a normal life OR they going to heaven and finding peace at last. She saw Sam and Dean as a unit, which means: both retiring or both going to heaven. AND she saw Cas as part of that, too. She wasn’t so sure about Jack. And for her, we could use the “Eileen who?” and it wouldn’t be a joke. She didn’t remember her.

NOW IT’S TIME TO WRITE A NEW VERSION OF 15X20 (KEEPING 15X18 AND 15X19 EXACTLY THE SAME AS THEY AIRED). This will be a very long post:

The opening remains almost the same. No “Carry on my wayward son” to induce feels. Too soon and too predictable! (Reasoning: Everyone was expecting it to play right there, so it would bring more tears at the end)

In the opening, after the scene where Jack says “People won’t need to pray to me or sacrifice to me”, we also see the scene from 15x19 where he says “I won’t be hands on”. Then we see the rest of the opening as it was. (Reasoning: People needed to be reminded that Jack would NOT intervene and that’s why later on, he would NOT save Dean).

We get the same montage, but when Sam takes a break from his morning run, we see him reading a message on his phone. A simple: “Hey Sam, what’s new?” from Eileen. Sam smiles fondly and begins to type a response we don’t get to see. The next scene continues the same, Sam making breakfast. (Reasoning: A text was a very simple way to show that Eileen was alive and still in communication with Sam).

The montage slowly ends as Sam enters the library (not after he sits down). He seems to be talking on the phone but we only hear an “I’ll tell him. Bye”. As he walks towards the table, he tells Dean: “Charlie says hi. Mentioned something about Stevie’s perfect scrambled eggs we have to try.” Dean’s answer is “Awesome!” (Reasoning: Just ONE line was needed to unbury Charlie and her girlfriend. ONE LINE).

Sam sits down, opens his laptop and everything continues the same. The title card shows for the last time.

YOU SEE? In the first 4 minutes they could have acknowledged that THREE WOMEN were alive and safe: Eileen, Charlie and Stevie. It wasn’t hard! Don’t blame bad writing on Covid! Now let’s continue.

Sam and Dean arrive at the Pie Fest just the same. Dean goes to get some “damn pie” and Sam takes out his phone. He dials and when someone picks up, he says “Hey, Jody, how are ya?” We don’t hear the rest of the conversation. The scene moves to Dean coming with his 6 portions of pie. Dean sits down and Sam tells him, “Talked to Jody. The other hunters haven’t had much work lately.” “That’s good, isn’t it?”, Dean says. All we get from Sam is “Yeah.” So, Dean looks at him and asks “what’s wrong?” like it happened in the episode. (Reasoning: Again, a couple of lines to make sure the people that were killed in 15x18 are safe and remembered by the boys in 15x20. Why is this important? Because they’re family!)

The conversation about Sam’s sad face happens the same. Sam is the one that mentions Cas and Jack. (Reasoning: Because this episode was so Sam-centered, it’s obvious he was the protagonist in the finale. If we see him communicating with Eileen, Charlie, and Jody, then it’s NORMAL, even expected of him to be the one to bring up Cas and Jack). Without these additions, it’s harder for people to understand that most of the finale was NOT from Dean’s POV but from Sam’s.

Dean’s “if we don’t keep living, then all that sacrifice is gonna be for nothing” stays the same. (Reasoning: I believe it’s necessary that the show sticks to the importance of “letting go” and “what is dead should stay dead” for the first time ever because the message is “even when you lose someone you love, you can still find some form of happiness and keep living, for you and for them, because that’s what they would have wanted”. Bringing someone back means “I can’t live without you”, and that’s just more codependency. It’s how the demon deals began in the Winchester family –Mary being the first one to do it. This would explain why Dean didn’t ask Jack to bring Cas back, as he asked Chuck. He understood Jack was NOT going to interfere anymore and accepted it. Besides, when Cas saved Dean from hell, Dean thought he didn’t deserve to be saved. This time that Cas saved him, Dean finally feels worthy enough to accept that YES, HE DESERVED TO BE SAVED ALL ALONG, just as much as he deserved to be loved by that angel of the Lord. In this scene, Dean also says that the pain is not gonna go away, which means that from HIS PERPECTIVE, it still hurts that Cas is not there. The problem is that the finale is not showing his POV but Sam’s.  

Sam pies Dean on the face just the same. (Reasoning: That part was just to avoid ending the scene on a sad note).

Everything related to the case happens exactly the same. (Reasoning: At this point, people don’t really care about the MoTW, they care about Sam and Dean).

NOTE 1: The case is important to show that even when the Winchesters are finally free of Chuck’s influence, they CHOOSE to keep hunting. It isn’t something they do out of revenge or because it is their destiny anymore. Maybe they were forced into the life at first, but they’ve learned to find joy in saving people. Being hunters is who they are. However, the fact that a job application was shown on Dean’s desk is also important because it means he was willing to explore what else was there for him besides hunting. Maybe he could find a balance? Maybe he was thinking it was time to quit? We will never know! The thing is that Sam only finds out about it when he goes into Dean’s room after his brother is dead, so maybe that’s when it hits him that Dean wanted to explore his options, and Sam starts to think it’s time for him to do the same.  

NOTE 2: I believe the masks the vampires are wearing is something we can blame on covid. If they had their faces covered, it was easier to use people from the SPN crew for some scenes, instead of using more actors unnecessarily.

NOTE 3: When Sam and Dean arrive at the barn, we get 3 visuals to remember Cas in the same scene (those are for the fandom, not for the general audience): a) the barn, obviously; b) the bag that resembles Cas’ trenchcoat so much that many people thought that’s what it was; and c) two feathers hanging on Dean’s right when he opens the trunk.

The scene with the throwing star happens the same. (Reasoning: The episode is still told from Sam’s point of view, so it makes sense that he fondly sees his brother as a man child).

Jenny the vampire? Uhhh… I mean, it’s not the best piece of writing I’ve ever seen, but it’s not the worst, so okay. That stays the same. (Reasoning: There is none, but she’s not what really ruined the finale, so whatever!)

Dean still dies impaled on a rebar. (Reasoning: OK. HERE ME OUT!!! I hate as much as everyone else that Dean is killed. I think it’s lazy writing, but that’s what we got and I can’t change that in this re-write, so if killing Dean is what we have to work around, then, memes aside, death by rebar is better and here’s why. There’s no one to blame for Dean’s death: no Chuck (the boys were willingly hunting even after Chuck was defeated), no vampires (they were all killed and were no real threat, so it was impossible for Sam to begin a quest for revenge against all vampires. What was Sam going to blame? A rebar? Can you kill it? Hunt it? NO. It was an ordinary death, a stupid accident. Just like any person can die at any moment by slipping on a banana peel. Is it a good death? No, but it’s good to know he doesn’t die trying to save Sam or Cas, because Dean Winchester is NOT willing to give up his life in exchange for anyone else’s anymore.

Sam takes out his phone and says he’ll call for help, but his phone is more visible to the audience. He dials and it’s almost to his ear when Dean stops him and Sam hesitantly hangs up. (Reasoning: People have complained that Sam didn’t call an ambulance, but actually he tried to. It’s just that people missed that part, maybe?)

After Sam puts his phone back in his pocket and says “OK” to Dean, he adds, “I’ll pray to Jack”. Dean’s immediate answer is: “No hands on, remember?” “But Dean”, Sam says, and Dean interrupts him with “OK listen to me” and tells Sam what to do with the kids they rescued. (Reasoning: Jack is God now and how come Sam didn’t remember? The viewers remembered, so it was necessary to include a line that ruled the option out and that showed Dean didn’t want Jack to intervene. The rest was fine).

The lines “You knew it was always gonna end like this for me. It was supposed to end like this, right?” disappear completely from Dean’s monologue. (Reasoning: This is the most problematic part of Dean’s dying speech. He fought God and earned free will, he is no longer controlled by fate or destiny. Accepting that he is supposed to die on a hunt regresses his character development and denies his desire to keep living. This was a total mistake and should be removed).

Instead, if going to heaven is the ending TPTB wanted to give Dean, at least he should say something more empowering. Sam tells him that both of them are going to take the kids somewhere safe. Dean answers and the scene follows like this: “No. Sammy, we made our choice, didn’t we?”, he smiles with difficulty. “We were free to write our own story and we did. We decided to keep saving people, hunting things. Because it’s what we love despite the risks.” (Reasoning: If Dean’s going to die it doesn’t have to feel like it was always meant to be that way. He should die knowing that he exerted his free will until his last breath).

The rest of the dialogue between Sam and Dean happens almost the same. Except that instead of Dean saying “‘cause when it all came down to it, it was always you and me. It’s always been you and me”, he says “’cause when it all came down to it, we’ve always had each other’s backs. Always.” And instead of Sam saying “Don’t leave me”, he says “I still can try to save you.” (Reasoning: It sounds way less codependent without diminishing the importance of their love and support for each other).

Besides, let’s change Dean’s “I’m not leaving you” for “You don’t have to be alone. You’ve still got family.” The rest stays the same word by word. (Reasoning: Dean reminds Sam that “family don’t end in blood” and there are still lots of people out there who love Sam and will be with him).

“I love you so much, my baby brother” stays exactly the same. (Reasoning: Dean always had trouble to express the big L word. I always believed and said many times that before Dean could say “I love you” to Cas or any other character, he had to say it to Sam. So, this is important as part of Dean speaking his truth).

The last part when Dean insists Sam tell him that it’s okay stays the same. (Reasoning: It’s the final moment when the codependency cycle breaks. No more running in circles).

The forehead touch between them stays the same. (Reasoning: I think I would do something similar if my sister were dying. I know there are w*ncest shippers out there, but it shouldn’t matter because the moment feels appropriate for that kind of goodbye). 

See? There are changes but not too many. That’s why I’ve been saying that it was easier to get it right, yet they still managed to screw it up.

The second montage stays the same. (Reasoning: Life goes on, but of course Sam has to mourn).

The call about a case in Austin remains the same. (Reasoning: It’s the only part of the episode where someone from the found family is mentioned, so I think that Donna’s name is perfect in that moment. However, without the other additions I’ve made in this re-write, that off-hand mention feels too little. Its purpose was to tell the viewers that if Donna was alive, so were the others, but the way the episode was executed gave us an isolated Sam, incapable of having friends and a family without Dean).  

After 30 minutes of Sam’s POV, let’s finally see the last bit of Dean’s POV that we’ll ever get.

Dean arrives in Heaven and Bobby receives him. All their conversation stays almost the same, except that after mentioning Rufus and before saying “and your mom and dad…”, Bobby adds an “Ellen and Jo let me borrow their place”. (Reasoning: If you’re gonna put the man outside the Harvelle’s place, at least mention them for Jack’s sake!).

Besides, after Bobby tells Dean that Sam will be along and that time in heaven is different, Dean gives a small smile and says, “Well, there’s no rush. I want him to have a long, happy life.” Bobby answers with: “I would expect nothing less from you, boy” and tells him he got everything he could ever want, etc., just like it happened in the episode, and finishes by asking “What are you gonna do now, Dean?” (Reasoning: It’s important we know for sure that Dean is NOT codependent anymore and that he doesn’t expect to have a miserable afterlife just because his brother is not there yet).

Instead of saying “I think I’ll go for a drive” Dean says, “I think I know what I want” and walks towards baby. Bobby still tells him to have fun. (Reasoning: “Know what I want” is ambiguous enough to help us introduce the last piece of the puzzle, the one thing Dean’s wanted for many seasons and has never been able to express).

 The biggest change is coming:

Dean gets on the Impala and has a moment of silence while he contemplates the wheel. He begins to pray: “Hey, Cas, you got your ears on? I hear you’ve been busy working on this updated Heaven with Jack. You were right about him, Cas. You had faith in him and he saved us all. You could always see the best in everyone, even when they couldn’t see it themselves. Even when I couldn’t see it myself. There’s so much I want to tell you. Maybe you can visit sometime. I hope prayer’s still a thing up here.” (Reasoning: Dean’s side of the confession was unaddressed and that was terrible writing. If there was no way to get him to speak his truth textually, at least take him as close to it as possible).

We listen to a flutter of wings and a “Hello, Dean” from the back seat. We don’t see Cas, but the camera shows us Dean’s cocky smile and he says “Took you long enough.” He turns around slowly. End of scene. (Reasoning: The flutter of wings confirms that angels have their wings back and ties that loose end. The final “hello, Dean” was highly anticipated and it made sense. If Misha couldn’t be there to film, for whatever reason, or if the problem was the kind of conversation Dean and Cas would have, then don’t show it, but leave the door open. Let us know that the two characters were reunited and will talk, but whatever Dean has to say is so private that it’s not for us to hear, only for Cas.  

We finally hear “Carry on my wayward son” and get a montage that begins with Sam playing with his kid. Then we see Dean driving, super happy, and Sam living his life to the fullest. We still get Sam’s Blurry Wife, BUT… we see pictures of Eileen in the living room (not just of John, Mary, Sam, and Dean). We also see photos of Jody, Donna, Charlie, and AU!Bobby. (Reasoning: FAMILY DON’T END IN BLOOD).

The scene where Sam is wearing the party wig and looks miserable inside the Impala is cut and nobody talks about it ever again because it never existed. We get a scene of Sam teaching his son how to fix the car instead. (Reasoning: First of all, don’t give Sam a life where years later he’s still in pain. Second of all, the fucking wig was a crime).

Sam’s dying scene stays the same. The only thing is that his son signs a couple of phrases to him before actually speaking. (Reasoning: More confirmation that Dean Jr. is Eileen’s son).

We hear the final “Evanescence-like Carry on my wayward son”. Again we see the photos and there’s family other than the Winchesters there. (Reasoning: Obvious at this point).

The rest is exactly the same. The show began with two brothers and it’s okay if the last scene is with the two brothers reunited in Heaven. At this point, the other parts of the story are acceptable enough for us to feel happy that they get to see each other again after years of a happy (after)life.

Now look me in the eye and tell me this was too hard to execute. I still think that bad writing is a thing we can’t deny here, adding to the possible meddling of the Network. Maybe Dabb wanted us to hate the finale because he couldn’t get away with what he truly wanted. If that was his intention, then kudos to him. He and The CW really gave us a finale that only 30% of the fandom liked.

I hope you guys have enjoyed this and it helps to give you some peace of mind. In my heart, this was the finale we got. It wasn’t perfect, but it didn’t drop the ball either.

[duckprintspress]

Welcome to Suburbia (but There’s Magic!) Story Ideas

As we recruit authors for our first anthology, we thought it would be fun to do some prompts related to our modern-with-magic slice-of-life theme. With that in mind, we put together a prompt list about contemporary settings full of magic...but with all the weirdness of life in the suburbs (primarily US suburbs...). Enjoy, and if you write a story inspired by one of these, we’d love to see it!

An EMT is secretly a necromancer. Everyone around them thinks they’re just really, really good at their job. No one finds out the truth until the EMT is in an accident, slips into a coma...and all their reanimated people collapse. Grief and hijinks and confusion ensue.

Little shop of magical delights: To the untrained eye, this shop looks like a splendid candy wonderland. Only the initiated know of the other aisle, the one filled with mandrake infused liquorice, fairy dust sticks with real fairy dust and hard candy made with love, elderberries, and orichalcum.

A technomancer creates an app that fuses magic with technology - it detects magical emergencies so that response teams can rush there, but sometimes it’s idea of what counts as an emergency is just a smidge skewed.

In the basement of a dingy little used bookshop is the entrance to the underground inverted tower of the deity of lost words, who is looking for someone who can handle computers and the internet because they really need a better archiving system than an endless downwards spiraling tower built from letters and books.

The van Humberts - who everyone knows are vampires - are in a constant feud with their next door neighbors the Johnsons - who everyone knows are werewolves. After all, vampires and werewolves never get along. Except actually the van Humberts and the Johnsons get along great, they just like to mess with people (don’t you dare call it “trolling,” trolls have made their position on the use of that term very clear!) and if they can cause problems for their most close-minded neighbors while they’re at it, so much the better.

The last thing that the volunteer knight task force expects is for their suburb to be attacked by a dragon. Usually only cities have to deal with problems like that! Yet there’s the dragon, and they’re going to have to do something about it…well, that sounds terrifying...

Suburban gardeners engage in a game of stunning front lawn one-ups-manship which escalates to creating a brand new micro-climate when all their rose bushes are still in full bloom in January. The homeowners association thinks this must be against the rules but can't exactly figure out how.

Sure, back in the day, people made deals with warlocks for many unseemly reasons, but not anymore...these days, all the upper middle class McMansion owners secretly consult the warlock in the tower in the swamp no one can afford to drain, offering him money and rare potion ingredients and whatever else he requests so that he’ll help their teens get a leg-up on college admissions.

Increasingly strict licensing requirements need to be implemented because people, intentionally or inadvertently, keep selling dangerous enchanted items during their yard sales.

Someone is building a strip mall. No one is sure who is building it. No one is sure where it’s being built. The community is split as everyone complains “not in my backyard!” Every time someone sees construction taking place, the strip mall-to-be is in a different location, but with the same amount of progress as it had when it was last sighted. One desperate person just wants to find the marketing office so that they can find out what rents will be.

When the elderly Mr. Smith passes away, his house goes from looking spic and span, his car brand new, his belongings all the finest, to being a ruin, and that’s when the neighborhood learns that Mr. Smith was never “keeping up with the Jones’,” he was just an illusionist.

The local homeowner’s association meets their match in the eccentric owner of that crooked little hut on the corner. They can't get past his garden to deliver the scathing letters reminding him to trim his lawn. One swears the sunflowers shot seeds at her. Another gets lost in between the two (2) hedges. A third is cowering in her basement ever since she met the garden gnomes.

There's always that one kid in band who is the distant descendant of a bard, and so it’s depressingly common for school holiday performance to require the intervention of an emergency response team to pull the audience out of the stupor the performer’s music has induced in them…

While everyone agrees that community diversity is critical, and they’re certainly trying to bring in a wider range of types of people, no one anticipated how many problems would be caused when people from multiple faiths and traditions start doing magic in the same suburb. Teens from different families, and different magical paths, get together to go on a quest to solve the magical messes that result.

Tensions run high after the community’s independence day celebration. No one considered that fireworks plus tons of backyard barbecue plus a full moon could unleash that much chaos among the local werewolf community.

[fullmetalscullyy]

royai week day 4 - communiqué

summary: roy has an announcement to make to everyone

rated: g | words: 2084 | tags: royai, post-canon, romance, marriage, marriage announcement, marriage of convenience, kinda? bc they just have~ to do it but it works out for them, basically royai using royai to further their agenda

read on ao3 | read on ffnet

“Good afternoon,” Roy greeted with confidence into the microphone atop the podium in front of him. Hundreds of pairs of eyes stared back expectantly, and while that should have been unnerving, his excitement at the upcoming announcement kept the feeling at bay. This communiqué had been a long time coming, crafted from years of subtle diversion, and playing a tactical game. Now, it was coming to fruition. It was all still part of their game, but Roy had a personal stake in this part of it too. It was still a win for both parties involved.

A huge personal win.

Up there, on the podium, he was completely exposed. While that was dangerous for someone like him with such high political standing, Roy trusted the eyes that were watching his back implicitly. He does not turn complacent, but is more than confident in their abilities. He trusts each and every one of his subordinates to ensure the day goes well and without incident.

“Today’s announcement,” Roy continued, “will hopefully put to rest any fears you may have had regarding me assuming the role of your leader. Fuhrer Grumman has led this country exceptionally well over the last five years but feels ready to step down. As you all know, I have been named his successor and will make a promise to you all now, this country’s citizens, that I will do my utmost to ensure I do my best by you.”

There was a pleased applause after he finished, accompanied by a quiet murmur.

He meant every word, but that was not the reason Roy had taken the stage that day.

“I would also like you to know that I’ve heard the rumours surrounding me,” he smirked, letting his gaze sweep across the crowd before him. Out the corner of his eye, he noticed how this had piqued the interest of those in the audience with the various media outlets. Their ears perked up at the mention of rumours, understandably. “I am aware of the public’s opinion on a bachelor like myself being given the title of Fuhrer. However, I have come here today to offer my reassurances.”

Some people in the crowd turn to one another, momentarily confused by what he’s saying. Roy smirked to himself, thinking of his own private joke before he opened his mouth to finally reveal to the world something he has wanted to for over two decades.

“As you can imagine, this will be a busy transition period for us, so I hope you will extend your respect, as well as privacy, to both myself and my new fiancé as we navigate this new chapter in our lives. I can assure you though, an official date for my upcoming wedding will be announced soon.”

It was like the crowd had frozen. A few jaws went slack, and mouths parted in shock as they processed the news faster than others.

“More news will come in due time. Thank you.”

With a simple bow of his head, Roy stepped back from the microphone and turned to look at the stunned officials up there with him. Breda and Havoc approached, nonplussed by the news, and started to escort him off the stage.

There was a split second where the world was completely still, as everyone was still processing what he’d just announced. Then, everything felt like it exploded. The crowd erupted into applause and cheers. Cameras flashed in desperation to capture the moment that Roy Mustang, the most eligible bachelor in Amestris and a well-known womaniser in his younger years, announced he was engaged, and his wedding would be announced soon.

Roy can hear some of the questions being yelled by the reporters.

“Who are you due to marry?”

“What’s her name?”

“General Mustang! When did this happen?”

He ignored them all, for all would be revealed in due time. It was enough for now that it had been announced. Roy never planned on revealing anything else other than that today anyway. He would have loved to. He can’t wait for the day he can finally give the order to give the announcement, but he must hold off. The mystery will drum up interest in their favour. It will draw eyes to them and get people talking. No other Fuhrer had caused quite as much a stir as he had, and Roy wasn’t even officially in office yet. He was popular and well liked among the masses. Not as much as the Fullmetal Alchemist, the alchemist of the people, but Roy’s work over the years had built up a perfectly crafted reputation for him. It played well into his plans.

A womaniser who announces he’s settling down with someone who is a complete mystery. It was interesting news. Especially for the imminent ruler of the country.

The public ate it up, desperate to know. Out the corner of his eye he could already see heads bowed together in excitement as they gossiped about the news while Roy walked off the stage.

He was led by his security team into a private room within the building behind them. Havoc gave him a quick nod in response to his order, reaching for the door handle and pulling it closed behind him. Breda was down the hall, already speaking into microphone after microphone in order to soothe public relations about the surprise announcement. Poor guy, but he did volunteer. Having Breda assure them, but give nothing away, would only cause more intrigue. If Roy went out there and spoke to them all, they’d never let him leave.

His shoulder slumped now he was away from prying eyes. Not with fatigue, but just to relax. The initial phase had finally started, and his plans were set in motion. While he did have a personal stake in this and was more than happy to go along with it, it could certainly be draining. But then again, nothing had ever been simple between them.

The door opened as he was pouring himself a glass of water. He reached for a second glass and smirked, not turning around because he knew who it was who’d entered. His order to Havoc was to permit only one person entrance to the room.

“Did you really have to do it so dramatically?”

There was a grin on his face as he turned on the spot, coming face to face with his fiancé. Well, according to the country, she was still his fiancé. Nobody, except from them and his team, was aware that they were already married, and had been so for a while. While touring Aerugo last month they’d taken a clandestine trip to one of the islands off the coast to the south. It was just the two of them, the team, and his mother in attendance. Gracia had made the trip, and so had Edward and Alphonse, along with their respective families. Everyone who mattered most to Roy was there to witness them come together as a couple.

Marriage was not the be all and end all for him and Riza. They already knew where they stood with each other and what their relationship was. They had done so for years, and the ring that nestled comfortably on the end of his dog tags proved that. The legal document was just a formality at this point and given his current position as leader of the country, it would be necessary. So, they’d compromised. A private, personal ceremony for them to do things their way, exchanging the rings they’d already given each other years ago. The grand wedding that was yet to come was for the masses, not for them. Once the official ceremony happened, he would move the ring onto his ring finger where it had always belonged and where he’d always wanted to wear it.

Riza’s lifted one eyebrow expectantly, awaiting his answer.

“They expect a show,” he shrugged, “so I’m going to give it to them.”

“So, our official wedding is just a show,” she deadpanned.

His expression softened at her light teasing. “Our official wedding has already happened,” he reminded her. “In case you had forgotten, we are already legally married.”

“I hadn’t,” she placated as she approached him, “but you need to stop talking about it so openly. You were the one who suggested keeping it a secret, and the walls have ears,” she replied cryptically. Once close enough, she brushed a piece of invisible lint off his immaculate uniform and his shoulder tingled where she’d ran her hand over it.

“Let them listen,” he shrugged again. Roy lifted a hand to rest upon her hip as he grasped one of hers, lifting them both to rest between their bodies. He bent his head forward and kissed the backs of her knuckles, a small, fond smile playing on his lips. “It doesn’t matter now that our news is out.”

“Part of the news is out,” she reminded him. “You were quite adamant about only revealing some of the truth so early on,” Riza smirked. “It will be a busy transition period for us, after all,” she quoted back to him with mock sympathy.

His eyes rolled fondly.

“So,” she continued, extracting her hand from his and taking a step backward to put some distance between them. Roy felt like a petulant child, pouting at her actions. “We must keep up pretences and give ourselves the time and space we need to adapt to our new circumstances and navigate through it.”

“You’re no fun,” he complained, his tone nearly a playful whine.

“I know, dear,” she replied, sounding like she didn’t particularly care he felt that way. Roy was only joking though, of course.

“How did it look from up there?”

Riza’s perch had been on the roof of the building behind him, on the lookout for anyone who may wish harm upon him, along with her own elite security team.

She snorted lightly. “I will admit, it was entertaining to see the looks on their faces.”

“They were very surprised,” he chuckled, pleased with himself.

“It’s never a dull moment with you.”

“I would hope not because you’re stuck with me now, fiancé,” he grinned.

“Unfortunately,” she deadpanned quietly. When he scowled at her, she laughed loudly, her smile reaching her eyes.

For a moment, Roy is enraptured by her beauty. Her grin lit up his whole world and the sound of her laughter pulled at the stings of his heart pleasantly.

He is married to this woman, he thought to himself, and still couldn’t quite believe it.

After so long… After so many years of ignoring feelings and holding back – or trying to – now he didn’t have to.

Although it was his plan to delay the information given, he really wished it wasn’t. He wanted to go back out there and tell everyone how much he loved and cherished this woman before him.

All in due time. And the pay off when that day finally comes will be so worth it.

They’ve both waited for so long. Roy could stick it out for a few more days. What was more important was holding this woman close and loving her so freely like he has always wanted, and Roy planned to do just that.

Riza smirked and didn’t shrug him off as Roy wrapped his arms tightly around her frame. He pulled her close and kissed her, trying to convey just how much he loved her with one kiss alone. She hummed against his lips pleasantly as her arms lifted to loop around his neck. One hand slowly, tantalisingly, trailed up the back of his neck, making him shudder. She noticed and grinned against him. When her nails scratched lightly against his scalp and Roy groaned, Riza’s smile widened. She knew exactly what she was doing to him. She could play him like a fiddle, but Roy didn’t mind at all. There’s no way he was going to stop her ministrations when they felt so good.

“I love you,” he breathed. His chest heaved with his breath and the words almost got stuck in his throat, both from the emotions overwhelming him and their passionate kiss.

“Love you too, Roy.” When she pulled away to look at him, Roy didn’t let her move far. Their noses were almost touching but he could see her expression soften. She looked so happy and content. So in love. Which was exactly how he felt too.

They both couldn’t wait to start this new chapter in their lives together.

[dontmindmyshadowhunting]

To never being parted - Part 2 Chap 4 - The Birthday Party

This is the Chapter 4 of the mini sequel to my flower cards inspired Kitty Fan Fic “Am I Forgotten?”

AO3 Link here.

****

As it turned out, Jace absolutely loved his surprise. He jumped in the pop-out cake to hug Kit, who pushed him away, and they ended up rolling and wrestling amidst the vanilla buttercream, with a crowd of onlookers cheering. The most enthusiastic was Mina, who shrieked with delight during the entire fight.

They both had to change after that, which was a relief. Tessa had to hastily recover Kit’s dress from Mina, who had undertaken to lick the fabric drenched in vanilla frosting.

The party was as decadent as any party organized by Magnus Bane could be. Dark blue velvet banners hung from the ceiling, stitched with the design of stars which seemed to shine, as if the guests were standing under the night sky. Candles glowed from every surface. Magnus had magicked up a small playground for the kids in one corner of the room, far from the chocolate fountains.

Kit carried Mina around on his shoulders for two solid hours before she finally asked him to put him down. When he did, she whispered in his ear. “When I am older, I am going to marry that tall and handsome Centurion bodyguard who has been following us everywhere… He takes such good care of my big brother.” Kit felt all the blood drain from his face.

****

The dinner table was covered with food from all around the world but Kit settled for a burger. He noticed that Julian had made the same choice although he saw him slip his lettuce to King Kieran, who had decided to make an appearance for Jace’s birthday party. He was seated between Mark and Cristina, and both were trying to get him to taste Mexican food. He shot Julian a grateful look.  

“So, has Ty been sleeping in front of your bedroom, as he used to in Los Angeles? That was so cute!” Cristina asked Kit, in a cheerful voice.

“Of course not”, Kit replied. “He is absolutely welcome to my bed now.”

Everyone around the table froze before turning to look at him. Shit. Did he say that out loud?  

Kit moved his gaze towards the only person whose opinion mattered in the case.

Ty, who was seated next to Dru and Jaime Rosales, was staring at him open-mouthed, his cheeks flushed. Oh well, thought Kit. I am not taking it back anyway. If I said I was joking, Ty would take it literally. And we wouldn’t want that now, would we?

Kit shrugged and went back to eating his burger.

****

After dinner, there was a cluster of girls around Lily Chen, who was seated on a chair flaunting the Hot Shadowhunters calendar, as if it was the best book of the year.

She had decided to publish a first edition, as an experiment, in an attempt to boost the Clave’s revenues. Alec had been reluctant at first, but even he couldn’t deny the incredible success of the calendar after only a few weeks of sales. It had been sold to both Shadowhunters and Downworlders, entire stalls being dedicated to it in several Shadow Markets around the world.

King Kieran himself had bought several to add to his collection which included kitten and mundane firefighters calendars.

“So, of course we have Jace for the month of January. That one - and Mark Blackthorn’s - were the easiest pictures to obtain,” Lily explained as she enthralled her audience by flipping through the pages of the calendar.

On the front page, Jace was almost entirely naked, a well positioned sword covering his most intimate parts. Mark was just as barely dressed, poetically covered in roses and thorns.

“I had to negotiate with Magnus for Alec’s picture but as it turns out, I am quite happy with what he provided.” Magnus winked. In the picture, Alec was half naked, his muscles flexed as he was pulling an arrow to his bow. His skin was covered with black marks which stood in stark contrast with his white skin.

“Here we have Jem. Although he is officially retired from the Clave, we couldn’t do this without him. He is much too popular with the Shadow Markets’ crowd. He is only half naked of course, but compared to what people used to see of him when he was a Silent Brother, this looks like porn.” Most of the girls giggled.

“This is Simon, it was easy enough to obtain a picture of him. I just had to offer him a limited edition of a light-saver…”

“A lightsaber,” Isabelle corrected.

“Whatever. The most difficult one to obtain was Julian Blackthorn’s, of course,” Lily continued. “I had to hire a professional photographer…”

“You mean a paparazzi,” Emma interrupted.

“Emma almost broke his arm…”

“He was lurking behind a rock, taking pictures of Julian while he was surfing…”

“But apparently you both found an arrangement.”

Emma stared off into space. “He does have talent. He took amazing pictures of Julian on his surfboard… I made an album of them. He’s going to be our wedding’s photographer. Free of charge.”

“That’s my girl,” Julian said, raising his hand for a high five, though not moving his gaze from Tavvy.

Lily turned to Kit and Ty, then, pointing two fingers at her eyes and at them. “Now that you have come of age, I have got my eyes on you boys.”

Ty looked terrified but Kit only shrugged.

****

Kit danced with a lot of people. Mina, mostly, but also Clary, Isabelle, Emma, Dru, Aline and even Lily, who kept giving him a variety of nicknames. Mostly food-related. When he waltzed with Tessa, everyone stopped to observe their graceful twirls, and they were given a round of applause. Kit had to admit he was quite smug about it. Not a single dance with Ty though, who had mostly been hiding in a corner with his headphones on, his arms crossed, though a friend of Dru’s kept talking animatedly to him. He didn’t seem to notice.

After a dozen dances, Kit was exhausted and parched. As he moved towards the buffet to get something to drink, Emma and Cristina appeared out of nowhere to stand in his path, their faces alight with excitement. Kit had noticed that when Emma was not glued to Julian’s side, she was always running around with Cristina and Mark, like an iconic trio of besties.

“Welcome to the club,” they said in unison. Had they rehearsed that?

“What club?”

“The club of fearless warriors who decided to take the hazardous path of dating Blackthorn men,” Emma replied with an ominous voice.

“One word of advice,” Cristina said. “Get as much sleep as you can, while you can.”

“What?” Kit was puzzled.

“Hmmm, how to explain…” Emma put one finger on her mouth, her expression thoughtful. “Have you ever wondered why there are so many of them?”

“The Blackthorns you mean? Er- because they like kids?” Kit answered.

“True enough,” Emma replied, winking at him.

“What else is there?” Kit asked, as he had the feeling he was missing something.

Emma and Cristina burst into fits of laughter, clutching each other for support.

Kit shrugged and considered it as his cue to leave. Ty had already left the party an hour ago and Kit was wondering whether he should stop by his room to watch him sleep. Just a little peek. Ok, no, that was creepy.

As he was heading towards the door to leave the party inconspicuously, Kit was stopped mid-flight by a hand grasping his shoulder.

“Not so fast, Kit Herondale.”

Kit turned to meet Julian’s blue-green eyes. He was a different version of the Julian he had known.

The shape of his face was sharper, his features more chiseled and his luscious Blackthorn waves longer. There were no longer circles under his eyes and Kit had noticed that he had stopped biting his fingernails. He seemed happier, more rested. Almost… glowing.

Kit had to admit he was stunning. But I am already head over heels in love with his brother, Kit was reminded.

According to Jace, Julian had been a close and trusted advisor of Alec for the past few years, the Consul relying on him for war strategy and delicate political matters.

During the time he had spent in Los Angeles, Kit had witnessed how dangerous Julian’s sharp mind could be when he decided to use it. How deadly. And that was tired, restless Julian. Glowing Julian… their enemies would never know what had hit them.

Julian’s gaze moved to Kit’s chest, where the Blackthorn locket was resting.

“I see that Ty has given you his and Livvy’s pendant. I trust that you know what this means.”

His blue-green eyes were now boring into Kit’s, and Kit could not help but feel exposed, as if Julian was not looking into his eyes but straight into his head, accessing his mind.

“I do. This is it, for Ty. I am it . First and last. There won’t ever be anyone else for him.”

“What about you?” Julian’s gaze was still burning holes through Kit’s eyes.

Kit sighed. “You know what they say. Herondales love but once.”

“And you just realized that, where you are concerned, this is true?”

“No, Julian. I had already realized that three years ago.”

Kit turned to move, but Julian caught him by the arm.

“You already know what I am going to say next, don’t you?”

“Julian, I have witnessed what you were capable of in order to protect your family. I’d rather be facing the nine Princes of Hell.”

“Good,” was all Julian said, letting him go.

****

Tagging @darkkitai

[alittlefrenchtree]

Why is now the worst time for them to come out

Oh man, is today really the day I’m going to open that Pandora Box? 😅 😅 😅  I guess it is.

So here goes nothing. My brain is fried at this point so hopefully at least 50% of my sentences are making some sense. Sorry for the other half. I’m obviously not trying to shade or police anyone in the fandom. I speak for myself only, the way I feel, the way I see things and what works for me. I’m not necessarily right, I’m probably mostly wrong, but that’s my take on it.

I apologize in advance because your ask is about ten words long and my answer is going to be 10K long but, at this point, everyone knows I like a lot of context for an answer so we’re here together for a while.

First thing first, a little reminder of what I mostly think about the ship.

Right now, and it has been the case for quite a while now, the way I handle myself in that particular part of the fandom is to follow the boys’ lead, the very official lead and clear manifestations of their relationship and nothing more. I feel more and more uncomfortable with anything related to clues (even if they’re obvious) or theories (even when they’re so many proofs, it’s 99% verified) is because for me, there is no way doing that is doing them any good.

To try to simplify, here is mostly how I see the situation :

If they’re not together, it’s pushing a narrative that obviously make both of their lives more complicated and I don’t want that.

If they are together, or want to be, or has been or will be together at some point, I don’t see how watching and more importantly publicly highlighting their every move is helping them in any way. You don’t need anyone’s support for your own couple (even if it makes things easier when you have your close ones’ support) and certainly not the support of thousands of strangers. What you need is people to leave you alone and the less people are watching your relationship, the better is it.

That’s why it’s probably going to be one of the only time I allow myself to tackle this far into theories and reserve myself the right to not answer to other asks publicly. (And since I’m exhausted right now and will be pretty busy tomorrow, I probably won’t answer to anything at all. Or not before a couple of days, at least.)

To emphasize this point even more, less forget we’re talking about you know who here. The who doesn’t matter as much as the actual points I’ll try to make. In that purpose, lets say we’re talking about two guys named Brian and Justin 🤓

Brian is this guy who grew up with a very complicated relationship with his parents, try to escape his family heavy legacy at a very young age, marry someone at a young age and stayed married all through his adult life to this point. Now, he’s out of this relationship and he’s starting a therapy. In my opinion, the last thing Brian needs right now is to throw himself into a relationship, not if he wants the relationship to work in a healthy way on a long term scale .  Of course there are exception and life isn’t a rule book but, if I base my opinion on what I’ve seen of the world in my very short life, what Brian mostly needs right now is to focus on himself, to try to understand and accept who he is as an adult, and the unconditional love and support from friends he can trust. If he still trying to start or to live any kind of ‘couple’ relationship, the worst move, especially at this point, would be to point a spotlight on it.

Justin, on the other hand, is focusing on himself in a very different way (and in both way, I mean that in a very positive way, I strongly encourage everybody to start to focus on themselves). He’s planning to take over and rule the cinema industry, the whole world and maybe a few other galaxies if he manages to squeeze them into his schedule. It’s a very challenging goal for anyone’s mental health and very difficult to adjust as a single person - let alone with another person with their own struggles and trauma. That agenda of taking over the world (like any other agenda ever), whatever anyone wants to believe or makes believe, is (and still will be for a very long time if not forever) more easily made when you’re straight or when you said you’re straight. And this isn’t me saying Justin is or isn’t straight (mostly because labels mean next to nothing to me) but me saying that ‘being’ straight is a) the only way to preserve yourself from the homo/lgbtq+phobia that exists everywhere (and that 1) cuts you from many roles and 2) shifts the way the roles you manage to get is being perceived by an audience,) and b) prevent the whole world from turning you into some kind of spokesperson and shifts the way from your work or how your work is seen. I see this point kind of a same way as, when a woman accomplishes something and all the attention and the questions are often more about being a woman than the thing she did. It’s frustrating as hell, and I completely understand that someone could want to protect themselves from being that person, or from being pushed as some kind of role model. Not everyone wants or can be that front/first line person in the battlefield.

Another Brian once told something very important, which is ‘it’s not a lie if they make you lie’. At this state of the world, of the industry, and of Justin’s career, there is no ‘pros’ at being something else than straight and way too many cons, especially for him (i’m talking here in a business point of view only, you’re all beautiful butterflies ❤️). That what ‘they make you lie’ means. If he is something else than straight, there’ll be a time in his career (when he won’t be on a rise journey that goes at 1000 miles per hour, when his audience will be older, when his place will be more secure, etc. etc.) when it’ll be easier for him to say so — if he ever wants to say so. Or when he’ll prioritize something else — if he ever wants to prioritize something else. 

And either way is ok.

[ao3komorii]

Return to You (Timeskip Ashe/Reader)

This one is another Byleth one, but again, I don’t use any names for Reader and it’s all 2nd POV. This one is set after the BL route end, but no S rank happened with Ashe. Also slight canon divergence in that Rhea retains control of the church after the game end because it worked better for plot purposes, but other than that, nothing big has changed. Again, there is smut at the end!

----

You had been feeling antsy for a while after you had gotten back to Garreg Mach after Edelgard was finally defeated. Lady Rhea had been rescued and once again stepped up as Archbishop of the Church of Seiros and arrangements had been made for more students to join the academy as soon as routes were cleared safe and treaties had been formed to unite the land under King Dimitri’s rule. Relative peace had settled on the land, but that didn’t mean that no dissenters were left who wished harm on Fódlan. Quite a few of your former students were happy to come back as teachers at the academy, but you were feeling more and more restless as the days went by and the beginning of the school year rapidly approached. You wanted to be out in the world again, helping the citizens of Fódlan yourself. Not sent out sparingly for missions with students, but making the world a better place with your own power. You could no longer be a teacher, your racing mind would not allow it.

You had arranged to see Lady Rhea early in the morning when not even Seteth had joined her in her chamber yet. She listened as you explained your request, her eyes as sad as the day she lost you to the cliff, but she took what you had to say seriously.

“You wish to travel as a mercenary again?” she clarified, and you nodded resolutely.

“Very well. You have been a great ally to the church, but I see so much of your father within you. I will not stop you from doing what you feel you need to do,” she told you.

You were about to leave when she raised a hand to stop you from turning away from her.

“Will you not tell the others before you leave?” she asked, eyes full of concern. “They all care for you and will be hurt if you do not tell them yourself.”

You knew that she was right. But you also knew what would happen. None of them wanted you to leave, especially since you did not yet know if you would ever return once you left. They would be upset at you for leaving without telling them, but there was no other option in your mind. It especially hurt at the moment to picture Ashe, who had been as excited to be a teacher alongside you, robbed of that chance. But you had to leave, and you knew that you would not have the strength to do so if any of them tried to convince you otherwise. So you shook your head, eyes breaking contact with Rhea, and she smiled sadly.

“I will tell them, then,” she volunteered. “Professor… please stay safe. There will always be a place for you if you ever want to return to us.”

You nodded and then turned your back to her and left the audience chamber. You had felt so strongly about this decision that you had already packed what few important things you wanted to take with you, and you briskly walked back to your dormitory to get your bag, slinging it over one shoulder. You looked at the rising dawn as you walked out and away from Garreg Mach, regretful that you were leaving, but knowing nothing else would ease your restless soul.

Ashe had been a broken man since the day you had left. Rhea had asked for him to come to her private study mid-morning that day, and he had presumed that it was related to his new teaching position at the academy. Never did he imagine that it would be to tell him that you had left, and were possibly never coming back. He should have known the moment he walked in and saw Rhea’s serious expression that something was wrong. Bandits, or maybe slightly larger than usual class sizes were things he would have easily believed were the problem. Not you. He put on a brave face for Lady Rhea, telling her that he hoped you found what you were looking for, and then Lady Rhea allowed him to leave, as she easily saw through his façade of courage. His heart was crumbling piece by piece as he walked to his room, feeling emotionless and barely able to move one foot ahead of the other. Arriving at his room, he realized that he couldn’t recall the walk over at all.

He made it only a few steps into his room before he collapsed upon himself, barely managing to close the door behind him. The tears came easily as he reached into one of his drawers to hold the simple silver banded ring with a green stone in the center to his chest. He felt like his entire future had been stolen from him. He knew he should be upset with you, hate you, blame you for what had happened, but he loved you so much that all he could do was weep with despair. He wished that you would have told him that you wanted to leave; he would go anywhere if it meant that he would be by your side. But he understood why you chose not to say goodbye. You didn’t want to interfere with his decision to stay here. Although you had not realized he was so excited to be a teacher in large part because he would be where you would be. He could only hope that someday you would come back to him. He would wait forever for you.

Ashe was one of the most popular teachers at the academy. He was knowledgeable and kind, and the students all loved him; the boys admired his skills and the girls were smitten by his handsome profile. They all adored the caring professor, but they didn’t have the background knowledge that some of the others at the monastery did.

Annette and Mercedes had both taken positions within the school as well, both happy to pass their skills on to the next generation and keep the world as peaceful as it had become after the war. The lively and kind Ashe the new students saw did not fool them for one second. They had been informed of your departure soon after Ashe had, and had both been devastated, not only within themselves but for their friend as well. Anyone could see how Ashe loved you, except you. Mercedes knew that if you had known about his feelings, you would not have left him like that. He put his all into his new job as a teacher, but they had both noticed that his smile dropped whenever he thought he was alone. He stopped reading for pleasure, and Annette assumed it was because it reminded him too much of the times Ashe had talked to you about the books he had read. They knew he thought about you a lot, even after many months of you being gone with no messages or signs of returning, and Mercedes and Annette both felt helpless to help their friend out of his unending sorrow.

Annette had baked Ashe some sweets that had always cheered her up when she was feeling down, and Mercedes had tried to talk to him, but neither tactic worked. Ashe put his all into his work and seemed hollow through it all, but never let his feelings affect the quality of his teaching. Annette had tried to get him excited about the upcoming ball that the church was putting on, and reminisced about the ball the year they were all students in this place. Ashe replied in kind, but Annette noticed he purposefully left out any mention of you. It was obvious that his mind was always on you, but he went out of his way not to mention any memories that concerned you. It was as if he would crumble on the spot if he even thought about you around others. Annette couldn’t even remember the last time Ashe had said your name out loud.

This ball would be a success, the women decided, even if they had to force Ashe to eat some food and do some dancing. He would enjoy the event, that they were determined to see through. Which would begin with them getting together the morning of the ball and making their special puffed pastries, the ones that their students couldn’t get enough of every time they made them. They giggled about their later plans as they purchased some ingredients at the marketplace, getting everything they needed rather easily. Annette looked up to Mercedes curiously when her friend did not respond to a question she had asked, but her eyes were elsewhere.

“Annie!” Mercedes gasped, hand grabbing her friend’s shoulder as she pointed over to the gate just as a small hooded figure entered, the hood doing nothing to dissuade the two women of their immediate surety at the identity of the figure.

You just felt numb after a while. You were a one-woman army, wiping out bandits and rescuing innocent people from dangerous situations. You were doing what you wanted… what you thought you wanted to do, so why was it that you saw Ashe’s face every time you closed your eyes? No matter what you did, you could not help but recall the look in Ashe’s eyes when you had to go after his adoptive father, when he learned of the death of someone he cared about, when he was forced to kill or be killed by his former classmates. You hadn’t died, but you had left Garreg Mach, left him, without planning to ever return. Your chest burned when you realized just how stupid you had been.

You knew that you were missing something, and you thought that you would find it out here, travelling around and helping people as you had once done with your father. But being alone just highlighted for you all that you had left behind when you made such a dumb, rash decision. Some villages would throw a celebration when you rid their travel routes of bandits, but you never went, instead forgoing sleep to travel onto the next place. You had just left another town at sundown when you realized that you had absentmindedly been obeying your own secret wants when the path you were on started to seem familiar. You realized immediately that you were only a few hours travel from Garreg Mach.

Immediately you felt the need to turn around and go back, find a route that would lead you elsewhere. You hurt everyone by leaving like that, and you knew it. If you went back now, you were not sure that you would never feel the desire to leave again. You couldn’t go back now and then hurt them all over again. You tried in vain to convince yourself that going back would be a bad choice, but you knew it was useless. You wanted to see everyone again, and you knew it. You wanted to see Ashe so badly that it hurt, and you would sprint all night to get there if it meant that you could see him sooner. But you had to admit that after fighting for hours, you would probably collapse before you could make it there. You begrudgingly set up to sleep in a grassy field, knowing you would be up as soon as you got enough sleep to be functional and back on the road to the monastery.

You had no idea what time it was when you woke up, but the sun had almost fully risen, and you brushed the grass off of your clothes and packed your few belongings and set off to continue onwards to the place you were aching to be. You walked for hours without stopping, but your feet did not feel sore at all. Eventually your feelings of guilt were overtaken almost entirely with excitement to be back, especially now that you were close enough to see the monastery in the distance. You had to resist the urge to run as you got closer and closer to the marketplace entrance. As you reached the gate, you adjusted the hood of your cloak; you thought it would be smarter to make a stealthy entrance and not attract too much attention and get swarmed. Looking around to see the merchants conducting business as usual made you feel like you hadn’t been away for months, and the familiarity relaxed you. You were so caught up, however, that you failed to notice two women sneaking up to you until they each linked an arm through one of yours and began to somewhat drag you towards the entrance of the monastery.

Panicked, you looked over to see Annette and Mercedes on either side of you. You must have looked as startled and confused as you felt, because Mercedes just giggled at you with a smile.

“We knew it was you right away, Professor,” she told you.

“Yeah!” Annette chimed in. “We’d know it was you even if you wore a full suit of armor made out of peacock feathers!”

You weren’t sure where Annette had acquired that metaphor, but you allowed them to take you around the corner and past the fishing pond and greenhouse, and straight into Mercedes’ room. Annette waved off the concerns of a professor you passed on your way, informing them that she and Mercedes were simply showing a new student around, and the professor let you on your way. Annette quickly closed the door behind her and they both let go of their hold on your arms.

“I felt bad lying to a professor, even though I know we’re professors now too!” Annette confessed with a guilty smile.

“I feel the same way, Annie!” Mercedes agreed, before their glances both settled on you.

“Professor!” Annette cried out as she hugged you with more force than you thought she possessed. “We thought you were never coming back!”

Mercedes smiled warmly at you before she joined the hug as well. “We all missed you dearly!”

You found their enthusiasm contagious and returned their smiles as your hood fell entirely off your head from the force of their hugs. They eventually pulled back and allowed you to breathe again. You knew you should say something, but nothing you could think of would undo the hurt you had caused by taking off without saying anything so many months ago.

“Please do not worry,” Mercedes said. “You do not have to explain things to us right this moment.”

“That’s right!” Annette added. “And besides, there’s the ball tonight to worry about!”

You blinked as you took in the information. It was around the right time of year for the ball, but there hadn’t been one in so long that it had slipped your mind. You remembered the one and only ball you had been present for as Annette suddenly squealed in joy.

“Mercie, do you still have that dress that you made for the fall festival?” Annette asked.

“Oh, yes!” Mercedes nodded, pulling a basket out from under her bed and retrieving a beautiful blue dress from inside while Annette looked at you sternly.

“I know I said we could talk about this later, but you can’t just leave us like that again!” she said, but she didn’t seem angry. Mercedes looked sad, but did not interrupt Annette. “Mercie and I have each other, but you’re everything to Ashe.”

“He’s been so sad since you left,” Mercedes added. “But you’re looking just as sad now, Professor.”

“I… want to see him,” you admitted, head hung low. You didn’t deserve to see Ashe after the pain you had caused him, but the women in front of you did not agree.

“Well, great!” Annette cheered. “Because we’re going to get you ready to surprise him at the ball!”

“I have the perfect shade of eyeshadow to compliment your hair,” Mercedes added.

You were surprised, but allowed Mercedes to seat you in her chair. In truth, you were grateful that you would have more time to work up the nerve to see him. You just hoped that he didn’t hate you. Annette told you that they had been in the process of making some pastries for the event, and so she decided to do it alone to not disappoint the students, leaving you in Mercedes’ care, but not before telling you both that she would be back immediately after she had finished baking. After Annette gave you one more hug and left, Mercedes spoke up.

“Professor… did you sleep in mud? You’re filthy.”

You hadn’t realized until now, but she was right. You were in no state to attend a ball with your current level of cleanliness. Mercedes simply laughed and then put the hood of your cloak back on and ushered both of you to the bath house. After checking that it was empty, Mercedes stood guard outside while you bathed quickly and then redressed. You felt cleaner than you had in a long time, as you largely bathed in bodies of water while you were gone, which could not compare to the bathhouse. Mercedes was chatting with a female student when you walked out, and you made sure to hang your head low so your face could not be seen. You didn’t mind whether you saw Ashe now or later in the day, but Mercedes and Annette were so excited about their plan that they didn’t want to ruin it, and you found that you didn’t want to ruin the surprise either.

Mercedes smoothly finished her conversation as if she hadn’t been waiting on you, and you passed by the student, walking side by side with Mercedes back to her room, going undetected. You removed your ratty cloak entirely after the door was closed, sitting down on the chair again.

“You haven’t eaten yet, have you?” she asked you, and you shook your head. You hadn’t eaten since the afternoon the day before if you recalled correctly.

“I bought some cookies at the market while Annie and I were out shopping today; they should tide you over until dinner,” she said, grabbing a wrapped package from her desk and handing it over to you. You unwrapped it as Mercedes started to assemble her makeup supplies.

“They’re made with chopped up noa fruit,” she explained. “I didn’t think that noa fruit would taste good in cookies, but they’ve become a favorite of mine as of late.”

“Thank you, Mercedes,” you said, for more than just the cookies, and she giggled knowingly.

Your conversation dissolved into silence, but it was a comfortable silence. Mercedes organized her makeup in front of her as she began to apply different things to your face. She insisted that you could not look in a mirror until she was done, and so you trusted her and relaxed while she did who knows what to you, having you tilt your head in all directions as she worked.

“You’re all done!” she announced at last, finally grabbing the mirror and holding it out in front of you.

You almost didn’t believe it was you. Mercedes had really worked her magic, and it showed. Every touch of makeup flattered your face, and you were starting to think that you had been staring at your own reflection for too long when the door to Mercedes’ room burst open. You turned to look at Annette, who was now wearing a nice dress, and she gaped at you.

“You look so pretty!” she exclaimed loudly.

“Annie, close the door!” Mercedes scolded her, and she quickly shut it behind her with an apology.

“You did a really good job!” Annette complimented her friend.

“Do you need help with yours too?” Mercedes asked, and Annette excitedly agreed.

“I can never get my blush as nice as you can do it,” Annette admitted shyly as you stood up and Annette took your place in the improvised makeup chair.

“I should have just enough time to do our makeup and then get over to the ball,” Mercedes replied, starting to smooth a little blush across Annette’s cheeks, leaving pale pink in its wake.

“I can’t wait to see Ashe’s face when he sees you, Professor!” Annette squealed. “I do feel bad hiding you from him though…”

“It’ll all be worth it when they reunite again,” Mercedes said happily.

They were being so nice to you, even though you didn’t deserve it. All you had gotten was one light scolding from Annette, but you knew that you deserved much more. They were acting like you hadn’t run off like a spoiled kid, and they had every right to hate you and send you back where you came from. You didn’t deserve any of them, that was crystal clear to you. You would repay their kindness by never leaving them again, you decided. Your place was here by their side… by Ashe’s side. If he would even have you. If he felt the same way that you had realized that you did. You wanted to see him so badly, but now that it was getting closer to the start of the ball, you felt nerves creeping up.

You watched as Mercedes put the finishing touches on Annette’s makeup before they switched places and Mercedes sat down in her chair to do her own makeup while Annette excitedly bounded over to you.

“You should put on the dress!” she said, holding up the dress from its position on the bed next to you.

“It will look wonderful on you,” Mercedes chimed in as she began applying her own makeup.

“It’ll be okay,” Annette said quietly, when you had yet to take the dress from her grasp. “I do have experience with this sort of thing, Professor.”

Mercedes simply glanced back at you and Annette with a smile before she picked up a container and a brush and turned back to what she was doing, and Annette continued.

“I know it wasn’t for the same reason, but my father felt the same as you do now after abandoning my mother and I,” she told you, and noted the slight change in your facial expression at her words. “I don’t mean to make you feel bad. You came back to us a lot sooner than he did.”

“I’m sorry…” It was all you could think to say. You felt like such an idiot for causing pain to everyone.

“You don’t have to apologize,” she said sincerely. “Just promise us that you’ll talk to Ashe tonight.”

You nodded, and Annette smiled happily. You really weren’t sure what you did to deserve her and Mercedes’ kindness, but you were grateful. There wasn’t much time left before the ball, so you reluctantly began to take your current clothes off and put the dress on. You were somewhat uncomfortable, as you just wore your normal attire to the last ball, and you had never gotten this dressed up before. You looked down at the dress; it was very beautiful, the front of the dress coming down to your knees while the back extended to your ankles to allow mobility. You were so fixated on the dress that you were surprised when you looked up to see that Mercedes had changed into her own dress already. How much time had passed while you were gawking?

“Ready to go?” Annette asked, and you and Mercedes nodded.

Annette squealed happily, hopping up off the bed and rushing over to open the door ever so slightly and peeking out.

“…Annie?” Mercedes probed.

“I have to make sure the coast is clear!” Annette replied with a giggle. “I feel like we’re all spies!”

“I certainly am excited to see how Ashe reacts!” Mercedes said happily.

Their excitement was catching, and you found yourself drawn in as well as you all made your way to the ball, as stealthily as possible at Annette’s insistence. She had joked that you all should’ve become assassins instead, and Mercedes had suggested that her new sneaking prowess would be useful if she wanted seconds of dessert. By the time you had all gotten just outside of the ball, you had all been smiling and laughing too much to convincingly assassinate anyone.

Annette stopped your conversation right outside the hall with a finger to her lips. “I’ll go in and find Ashe and tell him he has a surprise!”

“Oh, I can’t wait to see you two dance together!” Mercedes gushed.

You shook your head. They were perfect conspirators. You knew that you would never have the courage to face him without their help. But you really, really wanted to see him, to talk to him again, so you let those feelings drive you.

“I’m gonna ask him to dance! He’s just been standing there looking bored!”

Ashe was surprised to hear the female student’s comment. He hadn’t meant to look bored, but he had looked over to see the student and her friend looking over at him, so their comment had to be directed his way. He tried to remain cheerful, but more and more lately he had been told that he seemed distracted. He wasn’t quite sure why, but your absence had been wearing on him more than usual as of late, and he assumed that it was because the ball was coming up, which reminded him of your meeting at the goddess tower. The first and only ball he had experienced had largely been a disaster, and he cringed at the memory of all of the times that he had stepped on girls’ feet. He had thought that he was unsuited for balls since he was a commoner, and the ball had solidified that thought for him.

But you had turned his night around for the better. You had danced with him after you talked at the goddess tower, and he had not stepped on your toes even once. That may have been the night that he realized that he felt something for you, he mused. He knew that all he was doing was making the hole in his heart bigger, but thinking of you was all he could do ever since you left. He had zoned out again without realizing it, and came back to reality to see Annette waving a hand in front of his face, looking concerned.

“Are you okay?” she asked.

“I…” Ashe knew better than to lie to his friend, but he didn’t know what else to say that she hadn’t already heard.

To his surprise, Annette didn’t seem put off at all, her lips forming a bright smile as she grabbed him by his arm and began to drag him towards the entrance of the hall, leaving Ashe to sputter her name and put effort into retaining his balance.

“Where are we going?” he asked, completely unsure of Annette’s intentions.

“It’s a surprise!” she replied cryptically, and Ashe continued to walk with her until they were just in front of the archway that led outside. Annette spun on him so fast he wasn’t sure how she didn’t get whiplash.

“Annette, what-”

“Close your eyes!” she interrupted him, repeating her demand again when he only stared at her incredulously. He reluctantly slid his eyes closed, but could feel Annette’s gaze scrutinizing him, trying to figure out whether his eyes were fully closed or not. Finally, she let out a satisfied hum. “Okay… just please don’t be mad at me!”

He didn’t have the chance to ask her why he would be mad, because he heard her footsteps scampering off a moment later. He decided to put his faith in her and kept his eyes closed, wondering what this surprise could be. With his eyes closed, he focused on the noise around him, students and staff alike wondering what the two professors were doing. He sighed; Annette really had a knack for getting him in strange situations. He recalled the time that they had been assigned to clean the tower that they had both assumed was haunted; he never felt he would feel more relieved than when they had put that experience behind them.

“Okay, he’s got his eyes closed! Let’s go in!” Annette said as soon as she spotted you and Mercedes hiding behind a pillar outside.

“We won’t get in your way,” Mercedes said as you all entered the hall. “You two really need some alone time, after all.”

You blushed at Mercedes’ implication, but she just giggled at you as her and Annette separated themselves from you. You did not have a chance to protest because any words died on your tongue the moment you saw Ashe. His hair was a little longer than it had last been, but his handsome face was just as you had dreamt about for months. His eyes were closed, just as Annette had said, and you immediately made your way over, stopping right in front of him.

“Annette…?” he questioned, and you smiled at the sound of his voice, softly speaking his name in return.

His reaction was so quick that it might have been comical had you not been so desperate to see him. His green eyes flew open and he stared at you in shock for all of three seconds before he closed the gap between you, wrapping his arms around you so tightly that you could tell that he was afraid that you were not really here. You wrapped your arms around him as well, and he whispered your name in a voice that sounded like he was about to cry. He eventually pulled away, but his hands moved to your upper arms, afraid to break physical contact with you.

“Ashe!” Annette hissed as she approached you. “Dance with her!”

Ashe looked from her to you as if he had just remembered where he was and he blinked, shaking his head slightly. “Would you…?” he trailed off awkwardly, and you eagerly nodded your head, which sent a bright smile to his face as he took your head and led you onto the dance floor.

Your connected hands stayed together as his other hand came to your waist and yours to rest on his shoulder. You both began to sway to the music, unwilling to break eye contact with each other as all other sounds in the room drifted away.

“I’m so happy you’re back,” Ashe said at last.

You were relieved that he didn’t seem angry at all, and the two of you smiled at each other until the music ended, not parting from each other at all.

“Can we… take a walk outside?” he asked, and you nodded. He kept your hand in his as your other hands dropped from each other and the two of you walked past other dancing pairs of students and staff alike.

“Who is she?”

“I’ve never seen Professor Ashe like that before…”

Even through his excitement, Ashe’s cheeks felt hot as he heard the voices of his students as you passed by them. But your smiling face distracted him again as the chilly outside air hit him. You were here… really here. He felt dizzy with happiness, so consumed that the cold outside did not bother him at all. He almost couldn’t look at you, you looked so beautiful. Your hair had been done up especially for the ball, and you were wearing makeup, likely Mercedes�� work. He couldn’t look at you without his cheeks feeling hot and he desperately hoped that you didn’t think he was avoiding looking at you.

You thought that you had been wandering aimlessly, but you looked ahead to see that you had wandered towards the Goddess Tower. The ball had just began in the past hour, so the tower was empty of any people at the moment. You stared up at the tower, nostalgia flaring from within you as you looked from the tower’s outer walls to the man beside you.

“I didn’t realize we were walking here,” Ashe said fondly. “That night, so long ago… you took the time to comfort me, even though I have no status or crest.”

You gave him a hard look as you shook your head. All of that had never mattered to you; Ashe was a good person and that was all that counted in your books.

“I know now that all of those things don’t matter to you,” he said, smiling gently. “But what you said mattered so much to me. That night meant everything to me.”

Ashe stopped just before you both entered the tower, causing you to bump into him. You looked up at him in surprise and his stare back was unwavering.

“I was so lonely without you,” he admitted with a sad smile. “You were always on my mind. I wondered where you went, if you were doing alright… if you would ever come back to us.”

Your guilt returned full force as you felt ready to cry, but Ashe would have none of it. “I’m happy you’re back, and I won’t let you go again.”

He was fast, but not fast enough for your battle instincts. Ashe’s eyes closed and he leaned down towards you and you knew what was coming. And you allowed your own eyes to close as you leaned up slightly to meet him halfway. The kiss felt like it had been a long time coming, and as soon as he knew that you wanted this as much as he did, you could feel happiness radiating off of him as he pulled away.

“I love you so much,” he said, and you pulled him down into another kiss.

He let out a surprised groan but happily returned your kiss, one hand threading through your hair as he got as close to you as he possibly could. You placed your hands on his chest as the sweet kiss continued until you both had to pause to breathe.

You were both immediately on guard when you heard excited voices heading your way. You both quickly rushed to hide against a wall outside of the tower, hoping the dark would conceal you both. You both held your breath as a young couple strolled by, heading towards the tower. As soon as they had both walked in, you and Ashe rushed away from the tower. You giggled; you were doing so much sneaking around today. But this time your stomach was on fire with butterflies since you and Ashe had kissed. You found yourself hoping that you could find somewhere more private. You could not get enough of his presence, and you truly knew in this moment that having him by your side was all that you had wanted.

You found yourselves right at the edge of the dorms, where your room is... was. You weren’t sure if they had cleaned it out for a student to use instead. For the first time, you hesitated as you stared at the door, not able to tell if there was a new occupant or not. Ashe saw through your silence and followed the direction of your gaze instantly.

“It’s still yours,” he said, and you looked over to him. “None of us could bring ourselves to give it away. It felt like… we would be giving up hope.”

You marched up to the door, unable to control your desire to confirm that what he was saying was true. You had spent so much time in that room and knew that you would only relax when you opened the door and saw that everything was as you had left it. You only stopped when you realized that Ashe had not come with you. You looked back to see him staring longingly at you, but he bit his lip and looked away from you. You continued to stare at him as you walked back over, but he still wouldn’t look at you.

“I’ll leave you to rest, then…” he trailed off as he made to turn away from you.

Why was he acting like this? You grabbed his hand before he could leave you, and he looked surprised but didn’t resist as you frowned at him before dragging him with you into your room. You stood in front of the door, facing Ashe, who now stood in the middle of your room. You weren’t sure why he was so eager to run away from you, but he wasn’t going to leave here until he talked to you. He looked reluctant to speak up until he saw just how worried you were as you looked at him imploringly.

“I’m sorry… I haven’t been in here since you left and it just reminds me of all that went through my head when you left,” he admitted sadly. “All I could think about is if it was my fault… if I wasn’t a commoner, if I came from more decent roots. If I could have made you not want to leave.”

Your heart dropped. You thought that he would be angry with you, sad and disappointed in you. But you hadn’t taken Ashe’s past into account, and his overly kind and sensitive nature. You had never thought that he would blame himself for your disappearance, and you were mentally kicking yourself now for overlooking just how badly you would hurt him by leaving. You felt like you could cry as you shook your head back and forth to deny his thought process. His upbringing and lack of aristocratic title and parentage had never mattered to you, not as much as his kind and gentle personality did. But you had left him without telling him why, of course he would turn to his own insecurities to cope with the loss.

You couldn’t think of the words to say to convey to him that it was absolutely not his fault that you had left. That you wouldn’t leave him again. That you wanted to be with him. You slowly removed yourself from blocking the door to approach him, reaching up to brush your fingers against the tears collecting in his eyes and wiping them away. He stared at you, confused, sad, but staring at you with such expectation in his expression. It was as if he could read your mind, and he leaned down slightly just as you leaned your face towards his and you found yourself tasting the salt of his tears on his lips.

He pressed back only slightly; it was the only difference you noticed in his posture at all. You pulled back and opened your eyes just as Ashe did. He looked to be struggling for words just as much as you were, but he closed his eyes again as you leaned in and kissed him again. He relaxed much more this time, but you found yourself wanting to push him further and you opened your eyes just slightly in order to grab one of his hands that was just dangling at his side. You were faster than he could properly react to, and you lifted his hand and pressed his hand to your chest, quickly removing your hold and pressing down on his fingers, causing his fingers to squeeze your breast. The effect was quite immediate as his eyes opened and he completely disengaged himself from you, face redder than you had ever seen it.

“It wasn’t your fault,” you said simply, moving closer to him again. “…I love you.”

“You… you do?” Ashe gaped at you, surprise slowly melting into a beautiful smile.

You nodded, a smile coming to your face as you locked eyes with the flustered boy. He broke eye contact, his eyes darting around the room briefly as he fiddled with his clothing, somehow even more red in the face that he had been only moments ago. You weren’t sure what had happened until he spoke up again as he held his hand out to you.

“Before you left, I bought this,” he said, and your focus tunneled onto the small silver ring in his hand. “I wanted to… I mean, I still want to marry you.”

You knew what rings meant, but were still shocked into silence at his words. He looked like he was pushing himself to continue talking as you stared him down.

“I thought that if I didn’t always keep it with me, I was giving up hope of you ever returning… you don’t have to accept if you don’t want to, I will respect whatever decision-”

You realized immediately that you had something in one of your drawers that you had forgotten to pack when you left. You rushed past Ashe without taking the ring he held out and opened one of your drawers, retrieving the ring your father had given you. You excitedly picked it up before you realized that you had left Ashe standing there, ring outstretched in his hand, staring at you with unsurety. You offered a bashful smile his way as you held up the ring out to him and his eyes went wide.

“I never would have thought you would have a ring for me too,” Ashe admitted happily, a pink flush setting in his cheeks as he smiled sweetly at you.

You watched all the doubt drain from his face as you finally took the ring from his hand, replacing it with the one you had for him. He stared at your ring in the palm of his hand like it was a treasure or a relic from a lost time, instead of the simple band it was. He picked it up with the utmost care, placing it on his ring finger and staring at it in awe as you as you giggled and placed your new band on your own finger. Ashe had been so out of it since you first entered the ball, but now he finally seemed to be coming back to himself. You both smiled at each other, but it didn’t seem to be good enough for either of you as you closed the gap between the two of you again, and his eyes drifted to the side before looking desperately into yours. You weren’t sure how he hadn’t passed out with how flushed he had been for the past few minutes.

“Can I-” He was struggling to speak up. “…can I touch you?”

You nodded, already deciding to push him a little further as you reached to the top of your strapless dress and pulled it down and off of you faster than you thought possible. The dress had built-in support, so with it off, you were now completely unclothed aside from your underwear and boots. Ashe’s gaze only momentarily drifted to your body before he looked back at your eyes with a blissful smile.

“You’re so beautiful,” he said, reaching out to brush some stray hair from your face as you leaned into each other for a short kiss, your hands gripping the front of his shirt. As you slowly parted, he took in the sight of your hands on his clothing. “I suppose I should also…”

He looked a little overwhelmed, but was unable to keep a grin off of his face as he reached down to fumble with the buttons on his shirt. A few seconds and only one clasp undone, you reached up to help him out, quickly getting both layers of shirts undone and exposing his chest and stomach. You placed a hand on his chest, right over his heart, and were surprised at how warm he was. You also immediately noticed just how fast his heart was beating under your palm. He shrugged his layers off, and you stepped back from him as he gathered his shirts and bent over to place them gently beside your dress on the floor. You looked from the clothing pile to Ashe as he cleared his throat nervously, his hands awkwardly fiddling with the clasp on his pants.

“Are you okay?” you asked him. He had been a blushing, nervous mess, and you were worried that this was all too much too fast for him. You had a lifetime’s worth of happiness from the ring you now wore, and you would happily wait until he was ready. You had so much more time with him now that you were intent on not leaving him ever again.

“I’ve never done anything like this before,” he admitted hesitantly. “The last thing I want to do is disappoint you.”

Disappoint you? It was as if he didn’t know himself at all. He was a great man, and you knew that he could never disappoint you, at least nowhere as bad as you had done to him. You would have to get that thought out of his head immediately. Concerned for his ability to remain standing if you went a bit further, you guided him back to sit on your bed, which he obeyed, somewhat stunned.

You eagerly climbed onto his lap, and he rushed to place his hands on your waist to steady you. He accepted your kiss readily, but seemed somewhat squirmy, and as you figured out why as your bodies were pressed into each other. You felt exactly how hard he was as you unintentionally ground your hips into his as you adjusted yourself in his lap, and he moaned into the kiss. You felt as one of his hands remove its grip on your waist to move to the front of his pants, and you realized that he may be in some pain, so you moved away from him, feet back on the floor as you stood before him. Before you had fully disengaged yourself from him physically, touch still lingering on his shoulders, he caught your hand with his hand that had moved from your waist and you stared down at him, confused.

He gazed up at you so adoringly that it would have made you feel shy if you weren’t consumed with the same feeling that he was. You were both happy to be in the presence of each other that even the incredibly new experience of being unclothed around each other felt perfectly natural and comfortable.

“I should…” he trailed off, letting go of your hand to unclasp his pants with one fast movement.

Ashe let out a sigh of relief as he pushed both his pants and underwear down and off his hips, adjusting himself so he could let them fall to the floor. Despite exposing himself fully to you, he was transfixed on your movements as you reached down to let your underwear drop to the floor as well. As you smiled at each other, you mused that you would never have thought even a few days prior that you would ever be here with him like this. You could not have been happier that you had decided to abandon your plans and come back to be here with Ashe.

You placed a hand on his shoulder, and he allowed you control, moving himself so he was laying back on the bed. You ran one hand down his cheek as you slowly straddled him, holding yourself just below his pelvis on his upper thighs. You were so close to a point that you didn’t think there was any coming back from. But you found you didn’t care. You wanted this so badly, and Ashe had been more than obvious in his desire as well.

“You’re so pretty,” he whispered, panting lightly, his cheeks pink, but you didn’t think you were any better in that regard.

You wanted to smile back at him, but you shifted in his lap and brushed against his cock and he closed his eyes with a moan. You realized that you could no longer wait, and you lifted yourself up, looking away from his face to line yourself up with his cock, taking it in one hand as you prepared to sink down onto him. You intended to take it slow, adjust to the likely intrusive feeling, but you found that you took him in with very little resistance from your own body, and then decided to take him in all at once, failing to consider Ashe’s own adjustment process, which you quickly realized as he groaned loudly as he bottomed out within you. You let out a ragged gasp as you were hit with the feeling of being so full in a way that you had never been before.

You realized that you had clearly moved too fast for him, and you were determined not to move until he was ready. This would not only be on your terms; you would never make an important decision without him again, and while this one was not as important in the long run, you wanted this to be a mutually enjoyable experience.

“It’s… okay,” Ashe groaned. “Please…”

That was all you needed, and you slowly lifted yourself back slightly and then forward back onto him, and his gasp and a pleasant feeling tingling in your lower body were your rewards. As you went to repeat the motion, Ashe’s hands went to your hips and he moved his hips up to meet yours as you came down again. You couldn’t help a stuttered breath or an occasional moan at the spikes in the new feelings you were experiencing, but Ashe was an entirely different story, his cries and groans piercing the air. You finally felt like you were getting close to whatever this feeling that was building was as Ashe’s gentle hands on your hips held you down to halt your movement. Ashe’s bangs were matted to his forehead with sweat, and his face was flushed and looked somewhat distracted by the feeling he was being hit with by your joined movements.

“Do you mind if we… switch?” he asked shyly.

You knew immediately that he meant switching places, which you had no issue with. Just as he trusted you to take control, you had immeasurable trust for the silver-haired boy that had captured your heart. You got off of him, smoothly moving to lay down just as got up to allow you space.

“I never imagined it could feel this good to be like this with someone I truly love,” Ashe admitted as you both positioned yourselves to continue, your legs spread wide in front of him as you nodded your agreement.

“You’re so beautiful, so kind… I almost can’t believe I’m going to be your husband,” he said, in the sincere tone he’s always used; he could never tell a lie and both of you knew it. You wanted to say those words back to him, tell him how precious he was to you, but then he was pushing back inside you and you lost confidence in your ability to form a coherent sentence.

He started his pace out slow, leaning down with his palms placed on either side of your head so he could lean down and kiss you. You didn’t want him to bear all of the burden, so you wrapped one leg around his waist, and the minute change in angle it allowed had you rushing your other leg around him as well. You tried to press light kisses to his neck when he pulled back from you slightly, but were overcome when Ashe began to go faster, the unhurried pace no longer good enough for either of you.

You could immediately tell what a difference it made as you felt like you were much closer already, and you could do little more than grasp the bedsheets with both hands as you moaned lightly. Ashe’s groans were so loud that if this was a normal night and everyone was not gathered at the ball, you would likely have to answer many uncomfortable questions in the morning. But in this moment, his clear enjoyment and all the noises he was making, getting more desperate-sounding by the moment just made you feel impossibly warm as you both came undone.

As you were feeling like you were almost there, Ashe began to moan your name with a frequency that increased as he leaned down to bury his face in your neck as his cries lowered to a whisper and he focused on pounding into you as fast and hard as he could. It was getting to be too much for you, and your hands moved to his back, clawing desperately for purchase as your pleasure felt like it had reached its uppermost limit and you cried out his name, breaking through his whispers and the muted squeaks of the bedframe. Ashe continued his movement for what you estimated to be maybe a minute more, his thrusts sending smaller sparks of duller pleasure through you, until he finally stilled, kissing you desperately as you felt a pulsing from within you.

A few seconds later, he finally pulled back from you, moving to lay on his side next to you as you turned yourself to face him. He wrapped an arm around you, unwilling to disengage himself physically from you, and you wondered if this was because he was still afraid that you would leave him again, even after you had agreed to marry him, and had just consummated your relationship physically. But you had hurt him so deeply, and his wounds would require more time to fully heal, and you intended to make it up to him by staying together for the rest of the time you both had together in this world.

“I won’t leave you ever again,” you said suddenly, surprising yourself too as the words practically burst from your mouth.

Ashe smiled happily, a smile that you knew you had taken away from him for so long, and you almost felt stung by the genuine faith he had in you.

“I know you won’t,” Ashe replied. “I won’t worry about that anymore.”

You smiled at each other and he blushed slightly. “It’s just very new to me that now I can kiss you whenever I want. This almost feels like a dream.”

You realized immediately that you had heard something similar before. You recalled a day when you had been walking by the greenhouse and overheard a certain red-haired former student talking to a female student by the dorms, and had quickly decided to get to your destination another way.

“Sylvain…” you muttered lowly with a frown, and now the pink on his face spread all the way to the tips of his ears.

“I’m sorry!” Ashe sputtered. “I… he told me that I should say that to a woman I truly love. I did mean every word of it, but I didn’t know that he had said it around you. I knew I shouldn’t have-”

His flustered words just made you giggle; coming from Sylvain himself you would be unhappy, but those words coming from Ashe warmed your heart, and you figured he wouldn’t stop babbling unless you stopped him yourself, so you kissed him until he relaxed and gave in. You knew that Annette and Mercedes would notice the rings on your fingers tomorrow, but for now you were happy to hide away from prying eyes with the boy you had every intention of keeping with you forever.

[skullsandwineglasses]

The Legends (2019) - Halfway Review (first 30 episodes)

So far, this is a drama that I skim-watched, and I have only watched the first half. I keep hearing how the second half is even worse and goes downhill, so I’m bracing myself for it. But here are my thoughts about what worked for me and what didn’t. 

[SPOILERS AHEAD]

Plot Summary (this is kinda long, so skip to the next section if you’ve already watched it)

I actually really like the premise of the plot and think it’s different from your typical xianxia/wuxia/xuanhuan romance drama. The plot opens with a naive and innocent girl, Lu Zhao yao, who lives in a remote mountain forest with her grandfather. Their ancestral duty is to guard the seal of the Demon King’s son. Lu Zhao yao, our bubbly FL, is lonely. She wants a companion because it has always just been her and her grandfather in this empty and lonely mountain forest. 

One day, Luo Mingxuan from the Immortal sect breaks into cave in the forest and attempts to attack the Demon King’s son, but the son escapes and Luo Mingxuan is injured. The FL finds him, heals him, and falls for him. Luo Mingxuan is intrigued by her too. He tells her to be a good person and to be a keeper of peace of harmony in the world. He leaves, and she is determined to be a good person who saves people and helps the weak. 

Meanwhile, the Demon King’s son is bullied by the villagers and is soon captured by the Immortal sect who wants to execute to prevent him from becoming a harbinger of evil. Zhao yao saves him as her first good deed, defeats all the sect leaders, and proves herself to be far more superior than any of them. She is unbeatable, and therefore makes an enemy out of all of them. 

The Demon King’s son cares for her wounds, and she teaches him to stand up for himself and protect himself. She names him Mo Qing. She tells him her dream of wanting to build her own sect to help keep the peace in the world. He takes in everything she says with rapt attention. But she then tells him that she needs to leave him to find Luo Mingxuan, the person who inspired her to be a good person. She tells Mo Qing not to wait for her because she won’t come back. Mo Qing watches her leaves. Despite her telling him to start a new life, he never leaves the encampment that they’ve created because he has nowhere else to go. 

A month later, Zhao yao returns to the encampment, bloodied and jaded. When Zhao yao had gone to the Immortal sect to find Luo Mingxuan, he chained her up, tortured her, and forced her to reveal the location of the Demon King’s son. She refused to surrender because she’s adamant that she did the right thing in protecting an innocent boy who did no wrong. Luo Mingxuan says that she’s going down the path of evil and prepares to kill her. Her grandfather shows up to save her, but is killed by Luo Mingxuan. She then realizes that everything that Luo Mingxuan had said about being a good person and upholding peace and justice is a lie. Out of spite, she reasons that if everyone thinks she’s an evil person, then she’ll show them what it means to be truly devil and despicable. She sets out to become the most evil person they have yet to see. She’s hellbent on revenge, and no longer believes in love and in the goodness of people. I just love her petty attitude because I can relate to it so much. You think this is bad? Okay, I’ll show you bad. 

For the next 5 years, she builds her fearsome sect. She recruits a group of loyal followers, and is now known as a cruel and devilish conqueror. Mo Qing stays by her side as a quiet guard and gatekeeper of the sect’s entrance, watching her from the sidelines. On the day when Zhao yao tries to take the Wan Jun Sword, she tries to take advantage of his feelings for her and tells him to distract the people from the Immortal sect so that she can take the sword. But the sword instead calls out for him and wants him as its master. This causes the cave to collapse, and Zhao yao is buried in the rubbles, her last words accusing Mo Qing of betraying her. 

We then have another time skip of 5 years. Zhao yao is resurrected when her body comes into the contact with the blood of Qin Zhiyan, a disciple from the Immortal sect. Their bodies are now connected; whenever Zhiyan is hurt or injured, the same injuries are manifested on Zhao yao’s body. To other people, they both have Zhiyan’s face, and only Zhiyan can see Zhao yao’s true face. Zhiyan’s personality is the exact opposite of our FL. Zhiyan is meek, clumsy, kind, and not clever, which means that Zhao yao becomes the bossy half of this blood-connected duo. Zhao yao is determined to return to her sect and get revenge on Mo Qing whom she not only mistakenly thinks killed and betrayed her 5 years ago, but whom has now taken over as the leader of her sect. She wants to reclaim her position and restore her clan to its prior glory as a sect to be feared.  

Pacing

All of this happened within the first 4 opening episodes. To be honest, the first 2 episodes were slow. Episodes 3 and 4 were when the deaths, time skips, and Zhao yao’s rise and fall happened. 

Despite a slow first 2 episodes, the drama overall had a strong opening. We got to see a reversal of power dynamics where the FL is evil and powerful, while the ML is the quiet and demure “damsel in distress” who secretly crushes on the FL. It’s different from the usual underdog storyline. 

But after Zhao yao’s “death”, the plot slows down. The power dynamics reverts back to what we typically see in xianxia dramas: the ML becomes the almighty powerful sect leader, while the FL has lost her powers and her identity, and has to now pretend to want to be his disciple in order to slowly regain her power so that she can kill him and get her revenge. 

From episode 5 onwards, the FL’s arc is about how she and Zhiyan have to pretend to be the same person. This means that sometimes one of them has to hide (usually Zhiyan) so that no one sees both of them. However, this also means that we see more of the actress who plays Zhiyan than Bai Lu. While the second lead actress is good and is able to pull off playing both roles, I didn’t choose to watch the drama because of her. I had just started to get used to Bai Lu as the FL, and now suddenly, I’m forced to see the face of another actress as the FL. I imagine that this is when the drama loses most of its audience. It really tests your patience. In the comment section of these episodes, I saw a lot of people asking when the FL gets her face back because if the switch doesn’t happen soon, they’ll drop the drama. 

I was also *this* close to dropping the drama. It felt the Bai Lu barely had any screen time, and the SFL had very little chemistry with Xu Kai (which I guess was the point). And speaking of screen time, Xu Kai only appears for like 10 minutes per episode. 

The leads also felt very removed from all the plotting and scheming that was happening amongst the sects around them. So not even 10 episodes into the drama, the plot felt like a drag. 

When you realize that Zhao yao won’t get her face back anytime soon, you begin to wonder how the romance between her and Mo Qing will progress. Will he fall for her personality even though she has Zhiyan’s face? Does this mean that he’ll fall in love with both Zhiyan and Zhao yao because he thinks they’re the same person and doesn’t know that there’s 2 of them? Is this going to turn into some kind of moral/philosophical dilemma about what is means to love someone’s soul? Is this going to turn into some messed up love triangle?

Thankfully, Mo Qing figures out what’s happening pretty soon (around episode 11), so he knows that Zhao yao and Zhiyan are distinct people. We don’t really see his thought process for how he is able to figure things out, but we just assume that he’s able to put the clues together. It seems that at first, he might have assumed that they inhabit the same body (like a Stephanie Meyer’s The Host kind of situation), where Zhao yao takes over at night, but then soon he figures out that Zhao yao is actually just invisible during the day, and appears at night with Zhiyan’s face. But then he gives Zhao yao her old necklace, which allows him to see her in her true form during the day and night, even though she doesn’t know it. 

The Good

This brings to me to talk about what I do like about the drama. Both the ML and FL are clever people. They’re able to see through people’s schemes and are always one step ahead. We also see that Zhao yao, the fearless conqueror/demonness, has met her match, which makes their interactions really cute to watch. Zhao yao used to be his hero that he could only admire from afar. She was the haughty sect leader that he could barely talk to because she her attention was always occupied by other things. But now, he’s her superior and the one giving out orders, while she has to put on an act to please him because she’s now his disciple. But at the same time, she keeps trying to kill him, and he knows it, and he’s always amused by her attempts because it’s a reminder that Zhao yao has really come back to him. He simultaneously enjoys and is hurt by her hate for him. Talk about being masochistic. 

I’m also a sucker for reincarnation/ghost plots. While Zhao yao isn’t exactly reincarnated (but more like reawakened), and she isn’t exactly a ghost but is invisible, the way that the plot plays out is similar. Both the ML and FL metaphorically have a new life: he’s a sect leader when he was once someone who was bullied and persecuted and couldn’t protect himself, and she’s now just a disciple who needs his help from time to time. It’s always funny when he respectfully refers to Zhao yao in the third person to other people as the previous sect leader, even though she’s in the same room with them. And it’s also funny how she calls him that weird ugly kid, her first nickname for him when they first met, whenever he’s not in the room with her. The way they talk about each other in reference to their “previous life” is such as contrast from how they currently treat other when face to face. 

The invisibility plot point is also fun, especially in episode 21 when he follows her around town. It’s also the first time when we’re explicitly shown what he sees from his point of view. Zhao yao is like a hologram, and with a bit of magic and concentration, Mo Qing is able to lift the invisible “mask” that covers her to see her in her true form. Zhao yao is always startled when Mo Qing seems to be looking right at her. 

But between episodes 12 and 20, the plot stagnates. It’s not until episode 21 when it picks up again because all the subplots and backstories finally start to come together. And so far, episodes 21-30 have been good. The leads are finally getting involved with the larger plot. They actually make things happen. There are important consequences to their actions and decisions. Zhao yao still  doesn’t get her face back, but everyone finally knows that there are two of them, so Zhao yao and Zhiyan don’t have to keep playing the hiding/switching game. Luo mingxuan finally wakes up from his slumber, so the original villain of the drama has returned. It turns out that Jiang Wu is just a manifestation of Qin Qianxuan’s lust for Zhao yao. Lu Shiqi, a teenager(?) raised by Zhao yao, reppears again for the first time since episode 4. Mo Qing’s inner demon is starting to come out. Zhao yao finally finds out that Mo Qing already knew that she had come back from the dead and that she is invisible during the day all along. She also finally starts to accept that he has feelings for her and her for him (That line in episode 30 though: “If you fight, I’ll be your sword, if you retreat, I’ll be your shield”). The plot is finally getting good. But I’m just worried about how it’s going to be handled from here since I keep hearing how weak the second half is. 

I also like Zhao yao and Zhiyan’s relationship. Yes, they’re blood-bonded so they’re forced to look out for each other, but I just really like how wholesome their relationship is and how much they do care for one another. They have to share their secrets with each other because it’s them against the world. They’re a unit, and their survival depends on them cooperating and trusting each other. 

The Meh

The villains haven’t really been a threat to the leads, and they’re not that interesting tbh. I always skip the scenes when they’re scheming (which are a lot of scenes), and I’m still able to follow the gist. Like I already mentioned, up until episode 21, the leads felt so removed from what was happening in the other sects. Despite being a sect leader, it doesn’t feel like Mo Qing really does much besides interact with the FL, and the FL doesn’t do much besides stir up antics. She doesn’t actively try to figure out how to get her face back. She just thinks that if she gets Zhiyan to do more good deeds in her name, then she’ll wrack up more underworld credits, and she’ll be able to buy the pill that will help her restore her powers. But it’s also a little odd that her credit count is increasing so slowly when she’s done a lot to help Zhiyan. 

Mo Qing and Zhao yao have a really cute romantic arc, but Mo Qing is a very typically ML who unconditionally loves the FL and sacrifices everything for her. He doesn’t really stand out from the other xianxia MLs, and his character isn’t given much to work with (especially with so little screen time). Compare him with Sifeng from Love and Redemption or Ye Hua from Eternal Love who had to express so much pain and suffering. Maybe the angst just hasn’t happened yet in this drama.  

Mo Qing’s love and devotion to Zhao yao was also a little hard to believe at first. They only really interacted with each other closely for a handful of scenes over a period of a few days, but I guess when you take into consideration that he was abused and abandoned as a child, and then bullied and nearly executed, then the fact that Zhao yao was the first person to care for him, be his friend, and give him a name, it’s no wonder that he’d go to the ends of the earth for her. 

There is a very little character development, and the world building stagnated after the first few episodes. I guess we start to see some growth in Zhao yao and Zhiyan in the 20s episodes, where Zhao yao learns to be more caring and tender, and Zhiyan learns to be a bit more confrontational, but for the most part, it feels like things are happening to them and they’re just reacting to it. Zhao yao may seem assertive, but she doesn’t cause things to happen. Her being invisible does hinder her agency and makes her more of an observer in the drama. It feels like she’s been laying low for so long now, so I’m looking forward to seeing what she does in the next episodes now that Luo Mingxuan has awakened. 

I remember when this drama first came out in 2019, I had just finished Fuyao a few months prior, so I didn’t want to watch what seemed like a second-rate version of Fuyao. But this drama has a completely different premise, so I guess it goes to show not to judge a drama by its name. 

I also wasn’t in the mood to watch a drama where the leads are my age. I’m still getting used to the idea of people my age on screen, while I’m watching them at home, still having no idea what I want to do with my life. 

In terms of plot, it’s hard to compare Fuyao and Zhao yao since they’re so different. Fuyao works her way to becoming a powerful general, while Zhao yao starts as a powerful general and then loses everything. 

Overall halfway impression

People say that you should watch this drama for the romance between the leads, and while yes, the romance is watchable, I don’t know if that’s enough to carry you through this drama since the romance progresses very slowly. The leads only have a few scenes together in each episode, so you’re skipping most of it. Essentially, this is a very skimmable drama. I’m hoping that I’ll skim less as the leads become more involved in the sect politics, and I wonder if I’ll still be invested in the romance when Zhao yao and Mo Qing officially get together. Stay tuned.

Update: So I’m on episode 35 now, and it seems like a good place to end things. Is this where things start to go downhill because they’re going to drag it out to 55 episodes? 

[star-killer-md]

Dream A little Dream of Me Pt. 7

Welp. It’s been uh, a long fucking time. My only excuse is college is hard and also I’m lazy. Anyway, here she be. Thank you to everyone who continues to read this cause I need it to exit my brain and it’s incredibly nice to not just like, scream Kylo porn into the void. 

I hope y’all enjoy and feel free to leave me a comment or reblog or dm if you are so inclined. 

AO3 mirror

Part 8

Warnings: Inappropriate use of the Force, Force sex, angst, nsfw, y’all know the drill

Summary: In which answers are found. 

Ship: Kylo Ren x Negotiator!Reader

Word Count: 6.6k

The room smelled too sweet, the kind that lodged under your tongue and ached in your jaw. It made you long for the silence of your seaside room, made you strangely thankful that Kylo Ren often never filled it. But only for a minute. Because thinking of him reminded you of how you’d woken to an empty bed and cold, damp sheets and that you were certainly not thankful for. 

Meanwhile, Lem Alba seemed intrinsically compelled to do exactly the opposite. 

In fact, once he’d guessed you wouldn’t chew his head off every time he opened his mouth, it never closed again. You weren’t entirely sure if this annoyed or pleased you. But when Lem came to your door and invited you to brunch before all campaign staff were carted off back to the Federal District, you agreed. 

If only to avoid being left alone with your thoughts. 

“Not to grandstand,” Lem babbled between sips of his drink, “but I often feel some of my skills are wasted working just as a personal aide.” 

You glanced up from your plate and nodded, “I think most people in this profession tend to believe that. We’re all a bit insatiable.” 

He chuckled, soft voice melding perfectly with the chatter and bustle of the surrounding tables. You couldn’t help but think that Lem fit in well here, as much as he tried to deny it. His edges blended seamlessly with the velvet and silk background. It reminded you of when he’d plucked you right out of the crowd your first night here. 

“You First Order people have a way about you. Something in the way you stand a bit too straight.”

Something in the way you’re always waiting for the ball to drop. 

“Yes well, I’m not gunning for a power grab,” Lem sighed and rolled his eyes. 

He looked very much like a scorned child and you felt a twinge of remorse, “No, I didn’t think you were.” 

“It’s alright,” he ran a hand through his neat hair and stared at you over the rim of his glass, “I just get so bored of it all sometimes.”

“Mm, me too,” you said around a bite of some extravagant concoction that dripped embarrassingly down your chin. 

You thought of blood and saltwater rolling across your skin and quickly wiped it away with a napkin. 

“Really? I wouldn’t have thought that would be an issue for someone in your position.”

You had to try very hard not to scoff out loud, settling for a disbelieving raise of your eyebrows. Piles of paperwork taller than the Commander filled your head, glowering officers and incessant incident reports—your life nothing more than a series of other people's mistakes that somehow became your fault. Grey walls and meetings that never ended. 

Come to think of it, you’d been bored and tired and frustrated your whole life it seemed. Although, not so much anymore. Still just as exhausted and angry, but less like a pacing animal in a cage. The thought sat uncomfortably in your stomach as you wondered when exactly that had changed.  

Of course you already knew the answer. 

You always were attracted to things that kept you on your toes. 

“Should we discuss this speech I’m supposed to be giving?” you asked. 

If Lem noticed your less than subtle change in topic, he didn’t show it for which you were grateful. 

“Certainly,” he gestured for you to continue. 

“Well, I’ve had it outlined for quite awhile since the powers that be were oh-so specific about the subject matter,” you began, watching Lem grimace sympathetically. 

“Yes, I believe I’m meant to collect a draft from you by the end of the week.” 

The joints in your shoulders popped when you slumped forward, hanging your head against the weight of far too stringent deadlines.

“I’m well aware,” you sighed. “Normally I wouldn’t be so neglectful of the timeline, I’m just having a hard time...focusing.” 

The barely concealed mark on the curve of your neck throbbed as you recalled the massive, decadently handsome distraction that consistently occupied your workspace. Really, how were you expected to get any quality content produced with that dark, looming shadow always poisoning your mind with questions and completely inappropriate fantasy. 

Currently, your entire body seemed to constrict at the notion that it was no longer strictly a fantasy. Your muscles corded taught, pulling like a ruched seam and tugging painfully at the sinew. It felt almost as if you were a marionette with invisible strings controlled by equally invisible hands that tingled as they jerked you about. You got the distinct sensation that someone was watching you, but resisted the urge to turn and look. 

Lem—completely oblivious to your inner turmoil—perked up and offered you a blindingly white grin full of ramrod straight teeth. 

“I have an office I’m more than willing to loan out if you’d like to make use of it,” he said. 

You considered the idea, chewing on your lip. Maybe getting lost in speech writing would be good, you thought. Something easy, something formulaic would do wonders for taking your mind off, well, everything. 

“As long as you’re offering,” you flashed him a strained smile and went back to shuffling things around your plate. 

Lem continued to spew an endless stream of comfortingly meaningless ramblings and you bathed in the sound of it, looking up occasionally to offer a hum of acknowledgement. You didn’t really care what he was saying—whether it was opinions for opening lines or who you should thank first or what color to wear that he thought would bring out your eyes—but you couldn’t remember the last time you’d had a friendly conversation with...anyone. 

So you let him talk, and nodded every once in a while and basked in the normalcy, the mundaneness of the scene. Until, of course, the peace was shattered when your server returned with a new cocktail for Lem, who promptly spilled it all over the table. 

You watched it unfold like the audience of a holodrama: the waiter, tall with an abundance of black curls and long fingers extending the glass, their hands touching for just an instant, the scarlet blush that tinted Lem’s ears when he glanced at the man’s face and stared transfixed even as the drink spilled off the table and onto his slacks. 

It felt very suddenly as if you were seeing something you shouldn’t be. 

But the moment ended quickly and quietly, fizzling out with a whimper as the waiter with all his curly hair frantically mopped up the mess. His voice was low and pleasant when he apologized and rushed off to get another drink mixed. 

For once, you had the urge to participate in the conversation. 

“Who’s that?” you asked, flicking your eyes up briefly and then back down to the wet mark on the table cloth. 

Lem shrugged and fiddled with the stain on his pants, “Nobody.” 

And for once, it seemed, he had nothing else to say on the matter. 

It was truly a challenge to keep the amused smile from splitting your cheeks as Lem so clearly tried and failed not to make a complete fool of himself every time said server returned to clear plates. And when a beautifully decorated fruit tart found its way to your table—decidedly marked as ‘on the house’—you were graced with an extraordinarily toothy, childish smile from your dining companion. 

Your chest ached with it, the display of reality. 

On your first night here, you’d thought Lem looked too much like all the other First Order officers you were forced to work with. Thought his hair was too perfect, his suit too pressed, words too cherry picked. 

But here you were again, getting drawn in by these stupid, simple instances of existence in relation to others. You craved the feeling of fading into the background as Lem stuttered whenever he tried to thank the boy with his curls and warm smile. 

It was strange too, to see that people truly did flush and brush hands and chew their lips and smile so freely. For whatever reason, you’d been under the distinct impression that was an exclusively fictional pursuit, saved for holofilms or storybooks. 

Did those things exist in you? Were there times when you’d fluttered the way Lem did now, cautiously stealing bites of his tart, trying to preserve the delicate design for as long as possible? Or had they atrophied and fallen to dust from disuse, nothing more than a vestigial organ, unnecessary and forgotten—ready to pump your body full of toxins at a moment's notice should it burst. 

And that only raised more questions. How incomplete had you been this whole time? How long had you been ignorant of your deficiency?  

And did it matter?

But that was not something you could ever answer. So, you sat back and watched and listened and breathed it in. 

Appreciated from afar this show of innocenceweakness.

You jolted in your seat, shoulders bunching together as if a hand had grabbed you from behind. The double voice rang out in your head, echoing up like it was shouted from the bottom of some pit inside you. You knew that voice though—would know it anywhere by now.  

It was him, of course it was. 

You could feel Kylo Ren like a shroud, a dampening of the outside world. When you listened closely, you swore you could hear the sound of crashing waves, the crunch of sand under boot heels. The smell of salt and skin and bloody water filled your nose. Your chest was burning, a prison for some roiling, angry creature that flung itself against the steel bars of your ribs.

His ribs.

His heartbeat, a pounding and ruthless tattoo.

His feet already moving in time to the beat, carrying him farther and farther— 

Is it? you shouted back.

The words tore at your throat even as you sat in silence at the table. But no response came, instead the chatter of the dining room returned and Lem tilted his head in concern, standing and gathering you up by the arms. 

He pulled you down the poshly ornamented halls, chattering still but shooting glances down more often with his brows furrowed. You let him lead you, thin arm looped around yours, back towards your quarters to ‘help you pack,’ he said. And you didn’t bother discouraging him. 

You already knew the room would empty. 

***

The meeting had been dragging on for quite nearly an hour already. You were seated at the far end of a comically long table staring off into oblivion, eyes having glazed over nearly ten minutes in when one of the relations staff started going on about color coordinating suits. 

Although, you were not completely tuned out. It was very hard to be when just a few seats away sat the Representative himself with his grotesque excuse for an advisor positioned at his right hand. Fortunately he hadn’t spared you a glance, but it was a challenge not to keep one eye on him at all times—to not consistently feel your calves twitch, ready to bolt through the nearest exit. 

You understood now what it must be like for all those prisoners sitting in the Finalizer’s belly—backed into the final corner, waiting for Kylo Ren to swoop in like a shadow and leave them flayed open to be tossed out with the rest of those who have outgrown their usefulness. 

You’ve been trying not to think too specifically about...him since you’d returned to the Federal District, your room here just as empty as the one by the sea. His shirt, the one you’d stolen was still packed neatly into your bags. You thought about throwing it away, or tossing it in the corner for him to find. But then you remembered the bits of torn up packaging and lace and that you would not sink to that level. Physical reminders aside, your head had been blessedly—or maybe concerningly—devoid of any voices that were not your own since your, well, ‘fight’ you supposed was the word for it at brunch. 

Then again, all you ever did with him was fight, but this felt different. 

There were plenty of reasons for the Commander to be angry with you, in fact, you didn’t think there could ever be a shortage. However, this seemed just a little too...petulant for your liking. 

You recalled some of Hux’s old rants. Generally, you’d just let him rave like you were just another piece of furniture in his office, stewing in the same hot, bubbling pot of indignation. You could hear him now:

“He’s a child, a sulking, immature youngling completely incapable of a single rational thought.”

And you finally understood what he meant. 

If only you were allowed to use the silent treatment, but that seemed to be a privilege only for those higher up in the food chain. 

Besides, you were far too classy for such elementary tactics. 

You spat the last words and hoped to the stars that wherever the hell Ren had run off to, he heard them. Which one of you was the weak one now?

It was Lem who pulled you from the dark, brooding hole you’d dug yourself as he caught your eye from across the table. The speakers were switching, a half-hearted applause ringing out in the cavernous room and he flashed you a quick roll of his eyes. You bit back a smile at the way he jumped when Gahl turned to rattle off some inane order and Lem scrambled to take a note down. 

Watching it reminded you of how he’d nearly leaped out of his suit when the waiter boy with curly hair brought by your plates. Jane was his name. You’d discovered it while Lem was helping you pack, happily filling the silence with how he was much too smart to be working as a server.

And as you thought, your traitorous mind led you inevitably back to the looming, black specter that haunted your every waking minute. You would be kidding yourself if you thought you could ever have given the Commander the cold shoulder when truly he was all you ever thought about. Even before, even if it was just to remember how much you despised him. 

Past tense now, you noted worriedly. What a terrifying concept. 

But your brain was moving quickly past that, tucking it away in some far, deep corner to only be touched on long nights when you were up far past the shift in day cycles. 

Now it was replaying your brunch, closing up on a still of Jane’s hand on the glass about to tumble, on the lip biting, starry eyed and heart pounding look in his eyes. And then he was changing, the skin of his hand growing lighter, milky and soft with scattered freckles. 

Then it was your hand reaching out. Your hand slipping on the glass and Kylo Ren—sweet smile on his face—staring down at you blushing like a ripe fruit in summer.  

His lovely crooked teeth flashed behind lips like pillows filled with the softest featherdown.  

The tips of his fingers brushed your hand, light and nervous in that not-quite-accidental way that should have made your heart leap into hyper drive. Kylo’s eye flicked down at the floor, downcast coyly and glancing every few seconds to catch you staring at the pink in his cheeks.

You watched the scene as if through water, some stark, salty barrier that coated him in a film of non-reality. You waited for the star shine look of his eyes to pull you in, waited to feel your hands shake and your pulse race and any number of other inane, fluttery things that you had seen Lem stumble through.

But the sight of it, the look on this man's face—because it was most certainly not Kylo Ren looking at you with honey eyes, sparkling shy dips of nectar—it was...

It was not at all what you’d thought. 

It was revolting. 

It was an antithesis come to life.

It made your skin crawl with the unnatural feeling of it all. 

Kylo Ren’s face was not built to look at you this way, did not contain sickeningly gentle smiles, his hands knew no soft brushes of fingertips.

No, they wielded saber blades and crushed bone and spilled blood.

They tangled in your hair and molded mottled fingerprints into your skin 

His lips were carved from marble that could not comprehend such an innocent up turning, unless it was to mock his opponent.

They sucked permanent brands of ownership into your skin, and made them throb when you thought of him. 

And that was all you would ever want him to do. 

As much as he roused the caged and angry beast that resided in your bones, as much as he lied and withheld and left you to wake alone—

You couldn’t bear this bastardized, cheap imitation that stared at you sweetly.

That was not your Commander. 

That was not your Kylo Ren.

And you would not have him any other way.

That thought sat heavy with you and called to life something in the depths of your being. A fire, red and electric sparked to life. You recalled the vision he’d shown you. Recalled his words echoing:

“All I see is a whore who has no idea what she’s getting herself into.” 

You felt yourself slip into the memory of his hands burying themselves in your flesh. The image of yourself—ruined, marked, and so clearly his—was crashing to the surface of your thoughts like whitecapped waves on a stormy sea. The ache in your neck returned, as though his hands were wrenching your head back to make you watch as he split you in half with his cock. You saw it in incredible detail, the veins of his length sinking into you to the hilt in one long roll of his hips. It stung and made your nerves sing with the pain of taking him. 

It was delicious. 

It fed you the pit inside you like meat thrown to a starving beast. 

This was how he was meant to be taken: painful in his beauty, lovely in his destruction. 

His skin was so warm when he pressed your back to his chest and growled in your ear: 

“So desperate for your Commander’s cock, aren’t you?” 

And yes, of course you were, of course you always were because really had you ever felt complete or whole without him filling you to the brim? But it wasn’t just his cock you needed buried in you. No, you craved him in a way that transcended your physical being. 

Separate. That’s what he told you, that there was something more to you than just your body that could exist outside of yourself, could slip into his head and find him even when you were dreaming. 

And you were desperate for the feeling of his thoughts. For his mind, for whatever it was that let you hear him whispering all the things he could never say aloud. 

His voice in your head was the only thing that soothed the churning in your guts, it was like salve on a burn, cooling like the mint of his breath. The steady beat of his blood the only thing that truly set you at ease. 

Yes, that was your Kylo Ren. 

Possessive and withholding, saying everything in brief glances and the twitch of of jaw. Complex and often painful and perfect. 

You wanted him that way.

And you needed to hear him. 

You couldn’t stand the silence any longer.

Kylo? 

The single word echoed across whatever void your mind was inhabiting, crosses bounds to seek out something on the other end. 

You waited and wanted and— 

And then you were not so alone in your head anymore.

But the meeting room was coming back into focus and everyone was staring directly at you. The large holoprojector in the table’s center showed the first, familiar graphics of your portion of the presentation. From across the table, Lem was staring at you, brows furrowed and questioning. 

“Right,” you said, making your way to the front of the room.

You felt as though you were back in the academy, bland and boring faces all staring up at your false smile. You tried not to focus on them too hard. “As the delegate from the First Order, I’ll naturally be making the announcement of endorsement. This will be submitted to Mr. Alba for review by the end of the week along with the Order’s formal statement of apology.” 

You nodded and the projection moved on, showing the next set of animations, “Now, as I said, these will be submitted at the end of this week, so if there’s any—”

There was a hand sliding up your thigh. It was distinct and massive and coated in leather, the feeling of it so incredibly acute under your clothing you almost choked in shock. But when you slapped a hand down, there was nothing but empty air. 

The crowd for the most part seemed not to have noticed your pause, too caught up in whispered conversations to the side or staring blankly at the tabletop, so you cleared your throat, “If there’s anything you’d like to be included that should be given to me by tomorrow evening at the latest.” 

Your heart was pounding in your chest, the pulse of it clear all the way to your fingertips. Taking a shaky breath you continued to go over the list of other asinine requests, falling easily into a familiar rhythm. Presentations like this were half your job back on the Finalizer. It was home turf, and you were able to flick on autopilot long enough too— 

What was that? you asked incredulously into the void of your mind

Silence echoed, and you glanced briefly around the room, though thankfully you’d looked down at your notes when the hand returned. This time much, much higher. The unmistakable feeling of leather catching on the edge of your panties made your jaw drop. 

You called. 

Kylo’s voice reverberated through your skull, his tone was blank but you could feel the strange mixture of amusement and annoyance that was not yours. It was irritating on a level you’d thought impossible. 

Well I’m a bit busy if you hadn’t noticed, you snapped, grinding your teeth when his disembodied scoff graced your ears. 

You’d think it might be one of the most alluring things you’d ever heard if the stares of so many faceless campaign staffers weren’t pinning you down at the same time.  

Hmm, he hummed, unconcerned or unbothered by whatever was going on outside of the little world that consisted of just the two of you. 

His hand—because that’s what it had to be, his hand, somehow—curled under the hem of your panties, ripping the elastic to the side where it dug painfully into your skin. 

Stop, you hissed it, spat the word at him and tried to will away the fingers that pulled the meat of your thighs apart. 

But they only spread your legs further, a rush of cold air hitting your cunt and tensing your stomach as his fingers drew up up up— 

You’ll just have to keep quiet, won’t you?

And, of course, since you’ve never been all that good about following orders, the second he plunged two, impossibly thick fingers deep into your pussy, your voice caught in your throat. The garbled half cough half moan half wounded animal cry made every head in the room turn to face you.

Even Atreus, whose dead, white blue eyes locked in on your face and never blinked.

You froze, struggling to recall your place as Kylo worked his unseen fingers father into you, coaxing a wave of slick heat to drip from your core. Your hands bunched into fists, nails digging crescent moon holes into the skin of your palm in an effort not to gasp when he hit that lovely spot inside and made your knees threaten to give out. 

Don’t stop, now. Unless you’d like them to know what a little whore you are, Kylo growled from somewhere deep inside you. 

You caught your breath, plastering a smile on your face and taking a sip from the glass of water being offered to you. 

“My apologies, where was I?”

Shuffling through your notes, you picked up where you’d left off with proper terms to use when addressing members of the Order. You tried not to move, focusing squarely on the projection and schooling your expression—at least you hoped you were. Atreus’ stare never left you now. Like he could smell the lie on your face. Or the way your pussy gushed with ever renewed thrusting of Kylo’s leather fingers, the ridges creating a sinful drag against your walls. 

Well if I’m a whore then what are you? 

From whatever corner of your mind he was lurking in, Kylo chuckled softly. 

Much worse, he mused. 

You bit back a scream when his thumb found your clit, rubbing swift circles with the smooth material. 

But in your head, your voice rang free, and you let out the string of curses you’d been holding back, voice cracking into a whine when he added a third finger. And just as he spread you open, scissored your entrance and glided against your walls, something else opened too, gaped wide and you spilled into it.  

You could see him, but it was a different him, from a different time, walking the halls of the Finalizer. His boots ran out against the durasteel until they came to an abrupt halt and silence filled the corridor. There was a slight tremor in his hand, a minuscule shaking as he gripped his thigh and fell back against the wall, breath coming heavy through his mask. 

It was practiced, the movement of his hand that fumbled with the layers of his robes until his cock sprang free, hard and leaking and with a lovely red flush to the head. Your mouth watered at the sight of his hand stroking long and fast along the shaft, thumb teasing his tip and collecting the little beads of precum that glistened there. 

This is what you do to me, he said. I hear all of it. Every thought you have. I hear how badly you want my cock pounding into you and my hand on your throat and— 

He groaned in your head, the same way you knew he must have in whatever memory you were viewing. Distantly, you could just barely feel the movement of his hand as he jerked himself, hips bucking up into his fist. 

You were not faring much better. The words kept tumbling out of your mouth, sometimes trailing off on a particularly hard thrust of his fingers. Your head spun with this new confirmation. He’d heard all of it. Every frustrated thought, every time you’d goaded him in meetings and hallways and when you’d lie awake— or not so awake—and think about how much you maybe, probably, almost certainly didn't hate him. Not that you hadn’t known, that he could hear you. Not that you hadn’t suspected that it had always been him, not some imaginary replication. That was very clear, but now. Now you had the truth. Now you knew for certain. 

Kylo Ren had always been more than just a dream. 

For so long he had watched you crumbling from afar and said nothing.

And who knew how long he intended to keep you in the dark. 

If there wasn’t a target on your back right now, would you have ever found out?

Kylo, you gasped the words in your head as his thumb sped up in its rhythm on your clit and his fingers stroked your walls, what is this?

You needed to know. You deserved to know. 

And you could feel the words. They were there, right on the tip of his lovely pink tongue, about to find their way past the crooked edges of his teeth, lips loose in the pleasure of you. But the burst of white that clouded your vision and finally made your knees buckle drowned out any truth he may have spared you. Your combined releases flowed thick like heavy metal through your veins as you felt the pulse of him slowly fading from your mind, slipping from your grasp. 

Your hand shot out to grab the table edge, holding yourself upright as everything in your mind went blessedly, horribly quiet and the room grew much louder. Time was unclear to you. The projections showed you’d managed to get through over half of your presentation, but you called none of it. 

Lem was standing up now, walking briskly over to you with a hand on your back and another under your elbow. The fingers in your cunt had disappeared, leaving you feeling empty and cold as your slick stuck to the inside of your thighs. 

“Ah, I believe our financing presentation is up next,” Lem called out, motioning quickly for the team to take over and leading you back to your seat. 

When you were safely sat back in the chair, you felt his stiffly gelled hair brush your cheek. It smelled overpoweringly of apricots and vanilla. Too sweet. 

“Are you alright?” he whispered. 

The concern in his voice was evident, but you were lost in the past few minutes and too frustrated by the silence in your head to appreciate it. 

“Fine,” you mumbled back and turned your head back to the blank table. 

You didn’t look at him as he rushed back to his place by Gahl, who’s gaze never shifted your way. Unlike his advisor. Even now the slip of a man in his dark suit and red tie stared at you down his nose like it was the barrel of his blaster. 

Like he was taking aim. 

You swallowed and tried to go back to that space where time did not exist and your head was not so empty, but it didn’t not come. 

Instead, you sat and listened and hoped you wouldn’t leave a damp spot on the cushions when you left. 

***

There were a lot of rules in negotiations. 

The First Order made sure its best and brightest had them all carved onto the backs of their hands before they ever set foot in the situation room. When you closed your eyes, you could see the words flashing in your mind. You knew them better than you knew yourself. But maybe that wasn’t really saying much. You’d been discovering quite a lot of personal details recently you weren’t previously aware of. 

Though, that was besides the point now. 

Now all you could think of was that the number one rule to a successful negotiation, was to always know more than your opponent. 

Knowledge was your strength, knowledge was your red crackling lightsaber, knowledge was your fist closed, throat crushing Force. 

That was how you came out on top, by constantly keeping the upper hand—by always having an ace in your metaphorical back pocket. 

But right now, you were losing.

And the frustration of it was going to consume you. 

Because you didn't know what or how or why Kylo Ren was in your head. In fact, you weren’t even sure if it was your head he was in. It felt much deeper than that now. And no matter how hard you tried, you couldn’t keep him out. Whatever you’d done, whatever you’d let in that night on the sand with the sea standing witness, you would never be able to take it back. 

Kylo Ren was a liar. That you knew, because you were a liar too. 

Knowledge was your power, but lies were your currency. They were what you traded at the table, they were what slipped the easiest from your tongue and made sure you walked away from a deal with more than you’d come in with. 

And Kylo Ren was not in the business of negotiations, so there was nothing you could ever offer that would pry his jaw open and spill all his secrets. Nothing that could persuade him to tell you what exactly had taken root in your chest when you’d accepted him, took him inside and wanted to keep him there. 

But you needed to know. 

The desire to understand consumed you and every thought in your head. The same head that found itself clunking against a new desk in a new office with the same unending dissatisfaction. 

Lem had left you a few hours ago, setting you up in his workspace with a glass of water and a concerned smile. You knew you were being unnecessarily rude to him, and had you been less shaken, you might have felt some guilt over it. 

Now you were staring up at your datapad, document resolutely blank, and unable to think of anything other than the way Kylo’s skin reflected the light off the ocean or how his hair curled into little ringlets when it was soaked through and dripping onto your face and— 

You groaned, knocking your forehead into the desktop and squeezing your eyes shut against the barrage of images and the strange, uncomfortable ache they incited. You rested your head on your arms and tried to block out the light of the office, let yourself drift and tried to recall...well what you weren’t sure. 

The Force always seemed so far away, so fantastical that you weren’t ever truly convinced it was real. Not until you’d seen it first hand, watched the bodies of countless ‘troopers dragged from the hallways with not a mark on them. It simply wasn’t something anyone talked about, not at the Academy, and certainly not when you started working under Hux. 

It was...energy, you knew that much. And it was in everything, everyone you supposed, though stronger some than others. You knew it could be used for more than just making objects float around, although for what other purposes you weren’t entirely certain. It certainly wasn’t something you’d ever been able to use. 

But you thought it must have a hand in this, whatever it was that let you see, hear, taste, feel the Commander even when he was so far from you. Somewhere deep in the dusty corners of your mind, you knew that this would always be the case from now on. That even with light years in between, he’d only ever be a hair's breadth away—a whisper of his name or a beat of your heart. 

It was hard to swallow that notion. Hard to comprehend that you would never be alone in your skin. Never would you feel so lacking. What a cruelty, you thought, that it had taken so long. That you had been born into this world incomplete. Your Commander would call that a weakness, but really wasn’t he just as unfinished as you. There was still some gap in him waiting to be filled.

So, then, why couldn’t you find him like he could find you?

You didn’t have the gifts he did, you couldn’t make doors fly from their hinges or break bone with just a twitch of your fingers. And maybe that was the problem. Maybe it always would be. 

Voices from the hall broke you from your stupor. Two of them, the first old and grating, the second slick like oil that left a bad taste in your mouth—the representative and his advisor. You’d recognize them anywhere now. 

“...well I’d say that a drink is in order,” Gahl was saying, trailing off as they walked further from Lem’s office. 

“Sir, we shouldn’t be leaving—”

Atreus spoke that time, the sound of it trickling like cold water down your spine. Thankfully, the representative spoke over him. 

“Lem is here, he’ll take care of things.”  

A hand slapped the closed door currently keeping you hidden as they passed. You stayed still at the desk until the footsteps had completely petered out, listening to the expensive click of their hard soles die away into silence. Until now it had not occurred to you how close they were. How close the blade was to striking. You let out a breath and looked around. Everything seemed a bit more foggy than usual. Then, from across the room, you heard it—a soft creaking. And when you looked up, the door to Lem’s office was slowly falling open on its hinges. 

Like it was pulled by some invisible hand. 

And you felt the same tugging, the same formless compulsion, the same ghosting over your flesh. 

Across the hall, another door was drifting open by degrees, revealing a meticulously kept office with a shiny gold name plate:

Atreus.

Slowly, you let yourself be pulled—a puppet on strings—walking noiselessly across the corridor. In the doorway you paused, staring at the intricate black lettering. You wanted answers, and something told you this is where you’d find them. 

Into the belly of the beast. 

You took a careful step over the threshold, the air honey-thick and clinging to your skin. The office was spotless, not a paper out of place as you circled around the massive desk and ran your hands up the array of drawers. Each one was furnished with an ornate golden handle that glimmered in light from the hall. 

To your right, a drawer slid open just an inch or two. You watched, eyes wide, as it shuttered of its own accord out of place. And your hand similarly seemed to have a mind of its own, reaching out to grasp the handle and reveal it’s contents. 

Inside, nestled atop of a stack of folders was a small, black notebook. At first glance, it seemed innocuous. Not many people used pen and paper these days. But then the space around it started to shimmer, locking your gaze until the world outside it turned hazy. Shaking, your hand reached out fingertips brushing the leather bound cover. You bit your lip, teeth worrying the flesh as you sat on the floor and pulled the book into your lap. The ragged edges of each page caught on your nails when you flipped them open. 

Written in small, messy scrawl, was page upon page of notes. Words ran off the lines, and continued through the margins, most too minuscule or smudged to be legible. Multiple times, the Commander’s name was scratched in between sentences, angry obsessive markings that made your eyes sting. But you kept skimming, letting your hand be guided along. 

Until suddenly the pages stopped turning. 

And you stared down in horror. 

In the awful, disgusting script, was your name circled, underlined and bolded at the top of the paper. Thin, curving, inked arrows drew lines across the other mismatched text and you slapped a hand over your mouth to stifle the grating, garbled sound that threatened to escape your chest. 

There, the words stood out clear as day among the mess of lines.  

Bond. 

Your brain hadn’t even begun to register the implications of this, but you knew. 

This was the answer you’d been searching for. 

And you had no time to process it, because footsteps from the hall were approaching, quick and hard soled. Your eyes went wide and you scrambled to close the drawer and shove the book into your jacket pocket. Knees tearing on the carpet, you tucked yourself into the space under the desk and held your breath. 

Silence rang out in the tiny room. 

From outside, you heard the footsteps grow louder, closer, and finally come to a halt right in the doorway. 

Taglist lovelies: @couldntfuckingtellya @contesa-lui-alucard @thewilddingleberries @isaxhorror @cowboy-kylo @findyourdarkness @kit-jpg @shesakillerkween @obsessionprofessional

[clowndaydreams]

Headcannons

This is going to be random Headcannons because these have been rolling around in my head for more than 2 seconds and that means they must be word-vomitted so everyone suffers.

Hottake: Chahut is Alternia's version of a church girl. Do with that what you will. No I do not take criticism.

Marvus is an f-boi with feelings he takes out on everyone else in his own stupid way. Positive feelings or negative, he oozes chill/feral/manic energy because he influences people to do crazy crap when he's in the heat of -insert literally any emotion here- (E.G. Good Show Adrenaline = Audience killing each other). Do I feel light pitch feelings about this? YES.

Related to the previous HC, this is why he tends to go all in with literally almost everything he does. This is my reasoning for Yandere nonsense as well as possible softboi hours if reader plays their cards right and helps him be healthy for once in his GOD DANG LIFE. He copes with emotions he doesn't know how to handle (Which is all of them except happy) by taking it out on other people. This can sometimes be positive but usually it's distracting himself with someone who feels similarly and maybe making them choose bad choices in order to remind himself of what he should do with the satisfaction of also knowing what happens if he makes the bad choice.

This also then means that its easy to hang with him once, but likely not again unless he really finds you entertaining, you're a good pail, or you are working together if you're a non-clown. He still goes to church and is tight with his community.

This is also why he tends to hang with people he's not close with. He could easily remove himself from the situation at any time and maintain his air of totally chill and available(but actually not). Everyone is in awe of how he is with strangers but nobody knows much about him. He always knows how to operate in a crisis because he likely INSTIGATED IT SOMEHOW AND HE AIN'T SORRY.

This makes him something of an emotional vampire which tracks because TEEF.

It's easier to get with him if you're a clown honestly. Friendly or otherwise.

[thejeweloftheworld]

82 posts created

My Top Posts in 2021

#5

I just got a stark reminder of why theater kids are the best.

I went to a high school production of "You're a Good Man, Charlie Brown" in a town I've never visited before. It was a great show. (I didn't care for the musical but that wasn't the actors' fault.)

After the curtain call and cast/audience mingling, someone turned on Bohemian Rhapsody.

Do I even need to say more?

But I will, because:

Snoopy standing on his dog house shaking a trashcan on the first "throw it all away"

Multiple cast members screaming for Schreoder and dragging out the prop piano on "mama" followed by dramatic piano playing

Lucy and Charlie Brown scream/fight singing back and forth during the demon arguements

The crew member that decided to turn the spotlight back on and start swinging it around

The full cast hug circle near the end followed by them all "dying"

Did I mention that this was opening night?

27 notes • Posted 2021-07-14 04:34:12 GMT

#4

Uhhhhhhhhhgggg. I have a shipping problem.

Some context:

For me, there are two kinds of ships: those where I think two people would be a nice couple and would like to see them get together and those where I think they would make a terrible couple but the story possibilities are interesting.

Most of my "problematic" ships fall into the second category. There is, however, a recent exception:

Blitzo x Stolas

For those who aren't Helluva Boss fans, these two are in a quid pro quo sexual relationship. Stolas is in love with Blitzo and occupies a position of considerable power over him. Stolas is royalty while Blitzo is an imp, basically second-class citizens in hell. Blitzo's business is also entirely dependant on Stolas's continued support. Stolas is also cheating on his wife who is very much not okay with it.

Blitzo has no interest in Stolas sexually or romantically but he's comfortable with the transactional nature of their relationship. He's even shown to be proud of his manipulation of such a high-ranking member of society. However, is shown to be disgusted and uncomfortable with Stolas's public flirting and over the phone harassment.

It's a deliberately nuanced situation.

My problem is that I really want these two to get together as a couple, especially after the most recent episode, and that makes me feel really icky. From what I can tell, a lot of the fandom feel this way.

28 notes • Posted 2021-06-06 16:22:52 GMT

#3

Bill had decided to be merciful, which, of course, meant that he had found a new and exciting way to be unspeakably cruel that did not result in the deaths of everyone involved.

- A random unconnected line that popped into my head

67 notes • Posted 2021-07-20 23:51:48 GMT

#2

Some of My Gravity Falls Headcanons.

Dipper goes back to school and becomes an instant heartthrob. His summer transformed him from an antisocial loser to a dark and mysterious loner.

Wendy started babysitting really young and, without much else to do, brought the kids to the Mystery Shack. That's how she got to know Stan.

Manly Dan noticed when Stan replaced Ford but made the mistake of asking McGucket about it. Neither of them remembers this encounter

Mabel and Gideon give it another shot at some point. (I'm not saying it went well.)

Gideon really wants to talk to Ford but can't work up the courage.

Ford wants to "have a chat" with Gideon but doesn't trust his temper.

Wendy and Gideon become frienemies after Weirdmageddon because Gideon can't relate to kids his age and Wendy doesn't trust him to give up magic.

Ford had a meltdown after seeing the shapeshifter in Dipper's form when he locks up Mr. Whats-His-Face.

Ford "dismantled" the portal with a sledgehammer.

Stan was really upset by the Marilyn incident.

Bill is genuinely afraid of (sane) McGucket.

149 notes • Posted 2021-07-08 12:28:39 GMT

#1

I've seen a lot of posts (and videos and theories and fanfics) explaining how x character is a lot like Bill. Well, I would like to propose that:

Each member of the Zodiac represents a different part of Bill's personality.

Gideon is his greed, power lust, and possessiveness

Pacifica is his superiority complex

Robbie is his persecution complex

McGucket is his avoidance of his past

Soos is his thoughtlessness

Wendy is his facade ("Says he's happy/He's a liar") and irresponsibility

Stan is his apathy and dishonesty

Ford is his ambition

Mabel is his toxic idealism (the world should be this way and anything else is bad)

Dipper is his obsessiveness and scheming

This list isn't perfect as these traits and issues match multiple characters but I like to think of characteristics as things they had to overcome throughout the show.

Gideon began to care about others, respect their autonomy, and live a simple life

Pacifica accepted that she's not a perfect being and started on the road to self-improvement

Robbie trusted the goodwill of others and appreciated the good things in his life

McGucket took accountability for his past

Soos became more self-aware and aware of how his actions affected others

Wendy opened up about her problems and took responsibility for others

Stan expressed his emotions honestly rather than stewing in them

Ford found happiness in the simple things in life, the things he already had

Mabel acknowledged that the world wasn't (and probably shouldn't be) perfect

Dipper loosened up and accepted that even with all the knowledge in the world, he'd never have total control and that was okay

I really like this interpretation because rather than overcoming Bill in some big fight, they each overcame little bits of him in themselves. The Zodiac didn't work because Stan and Ford still hadn't fully worked through their issues. Stan wasn't ready to forgive Ford or acknowledge how important his family was and Ford was still clinging to his glorious purpose of defeating Bill Cipher.

Please feel free to add on or ask questions. This was a little on the spot so it could probably do with a little more fleshing out.

153 notes • Posted 2021-07-07 18:53:58 GMT

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