#so his initial presence was a bit understated

[the-masked-reviewer]

Percy Jackson and The Lightning Thief Comparison

Book v. Show

What Changed

There are jokes in the book that are completely left out and never even alluded too. The episode named “We take a Zebra to Vegas”, shows you multiple animals that the smugglers are transporting, none of them being a Zebra. They kept the book’s corresponding chapter name but not the actual Zebra.

The show’s focus is more on Percy and Annabeth and their relationship, but in order to accomplish that, they pushed Grover into a more side character position making it far harder to see Percy and Grover’s relationship as the platonic soulmates they are.

The books show Gabe’s behavior in fairly subtle ways, mostly through Percy’s internal dialogue and not through direct scenes with Gabe. I think the show actually did a pretty good job at showing just how bad of a person Gabe is, though they did leave out a few scenes that would’ve helped. I don’t think changing the way Gabe turns to stone really does anything other than take away Sally’s revenge and make a dumbass die by cause of being a dumbass.

Celestial Bronze is explained early on in the book at the same time most of the basic general knowledge of demigod life is explained to Percy and the reader. However in the show, they don’t even tell you this is a material that exists until the fifth out of eight episodes, taking away both Percy’s growing knowledge of his new world and the importance of the material.

In the books, Percy describes when he meets Hades like, “He was the third god I’d met, but he was the first that really struck me as godlike” (pg. 309) but the show introduces him as a weird fruity twink. It just takes away all the power the man is supposed to hold. He is literally the King of The Underworld and he is shown as a guy I don’t think anyone could ever reasonably be afraid of Even when Percy describes Dionysus, the first god he meets, “He turned to look at me straight on, and I saw a kind of purplish fire in his eyes, a hint that this whiny, plump little man was only showing me the tiniest bit of his true nature. I saw visions of grape vines choking unbelievers to death, drunken warriors insane with battle lust, sailors screaming as their hands turned to flippers, their faces elongating into dolphin snouts. I knew that if I pushed him Mr. D would show me worse things. He would plant a disease in my brain that would leave me wearing a straitjacket in a rubber room for the rest of my life” (pg. 70-71). It’s clear that these beings have an aura and could never not have a large powerful presence. But here Hades, the King of The Underworld, is just a guy. Comparing the two descriptions from the book makes it so clear how powerful Hades is supposed to be if compared to the visions of death and people turning into dolphins doesn’t register as godlike.

The show never once tells the audience what Tartarus is, not even after Percy and Grover are nearly dragged into it by Luke’s flying shoes. There was never any real foreshadowing for Luke or parallel to him a Percy until later in the season where you get flashbacks to Luke and Percy training. At that point it feels more like an afterthought to add in the evidence that it’s been Luke the whole time.

The show lets the audience witness scenes we’ve never gotten the chance to see before, and I can’t understate enough how much I love that. Getting to see Grover and Ares both attempt psychological warfare on each other in a dinner is peak Percy Jackson. However, the way the show is written takes away the audiences ability to truly see just how smart Percy is.

One of the changes I actually ended up liking far more than I thought I would initially was the change in the number of pearls the gang is given. By being given four pearls it shows that Poseidon not only cares for Percy and is watching him as he goes through life, but that he also truly cares for Sally.

The flashbacks are some of my favorite scenes. They’re written so well, and are great at taking advantage of the visual story telling techniques you have when you make a television show.

Not wanting your show to have a very exposition heavy introduction is understandable, but the show’s way of working around this problem is to put information right before or during the thing that’s being explained is happening results in a very exposition heavy, slow show where your characters, in this case Percy, are completely clueless at worst. For example, the gang not only knows but has a plan for facing Procrustes. The audience does not get to see the gang making this plan, just them executing it, having Percy explain to Procrustes (and the invisible audience) who he is and why he’s bad. This isn’t the only example of explaining things for the audience, like when they go over the entirety of Hephaestus’ story and his relationship with Aphrodite when clearly both characters in the scene know the story. The information these 12 year olds (Grover is technically 24 yes, but in human years he is also 12) is just inconsistent. They know who Medusa, the fates, Hephaestus all are, and yeah I’d honestly kind of hope they would. But they also know Crusty’s whole story, and details about how monsters hunt and generally act? Echidna literally spelled out who she was before the gang was able to figure it out (they then seem to understand perfectly how the Chimera hunts while simultaneously not knowing what kind of monster it is). Yet they seem to not only know but be intimately familiar with Crusty’s entire mythos.

When the gang is traveling with the animal smugglers, the book audience learns these guy are not good people from the description Percy gives of the inside of the truck and how the animals are treated, whereas the show has Grover tell Annabeth and Percy “the men driving this truck are not nice people” (Episode 5, 4:35). This would’ve been such an easy moment to take advantage of the media they are using and tell us this visually in the same way the book did.

The fact that the gang knows what kind of situation they are walking into practically every time does more than just take away the surprise. It takes away the viewers ability to try and predict what’s happening because it has already been explained. And what’s worse is it takes the tension away from the story. Without impending unknown doom, and always having a plan may paint your characters, primarily Annabeth because she is the one who always knows and makes plans, as smart and prepared but it also takes away most of the stakes and point of the story.

A lot of the story stayed mostly the same, and details and deliveries changed the most. But two of the changes that bothered me the most were the lack of explaining what Riptide even is and its importance, which for a show that likes to explain everything is awfully surprising, and how they decided to turn Gabe to stone.

Why Change it/Care

Dialogue is an important thing in storytelling, obviously. But there are some things that work better when shown. You don’t need to explain out loud all of the “you’re ___”s and “This is how your story goes.” In order to tell an interesting story you have to get a balance of dialogue and showing the story in order for it to be interesting. You have to trust the audience to figure out what isn’t explained.

The Thrill Ride O’ Love scene is one of the best examples of being to reliant on dialogue. Instead of letting the beautiful animation play out and leave the viewers using their brains to figure out what’s happening (which isn’t very hard, the animation is done wonderfully and tells the story of Hephaestus brilliantly) they have Percy telling the story over the animation (and “what is love” which is a crime of its own) and narrate the story. This is especially annoying because the only other person witnessing this (aside from invisible audience) is Annabeth, who’s been the one in the gang who knows and explains everything. I already don’t like how they’ve been using the “Athena’s kid” and “six steps ahead” things as Practically all of Annabeth’s character traits, but in this instance it’s only the two of them and Percy is telling the story. Who is he supposed to be explaining this too other than the viewer, Annabeth clearly knows the story too.

The flashbacks are so well written that while rewatching they kept tricking me into thinking the show wasn’t over explaining what was going on and was instead letting the story do all the heavy lifting. Then of course it would cut back to the current story and I’d be reminded that the flashbacks were in fact the exceptions and not the rule in this shows case.

The heavy exposition, read just straight up telling the viewer what’s going on, was used mostly in the side adventures and for world building things to do what feels like an attempt at saving time. While exposition is usually used for basic world building things, it wouldn’t have taken any more time to have so many of those things be shown visually. There are places where it may have added time but the show’s episode lengths are inconsistent and range from having content in anywhere from roughly 27-40 minutes depending on the episode, so even if there was a time increase from doing things visually there’s space to shuffle things around and make consistent episode full of visual story telling.

In the notes I took for this project I only used the word “explains” nine times to cover the entirety of the book. In the first three episodes of notes alone I used “explains” 14 times. Meaning, in less than half of the show something is explained 1.5 times more than the complete book.

Sometimes you just have to trust the audience to understand what is happening in the story. I understand media literacy is going down (which is an insane fact given how much media people have access to now) but if you continue to talk down to them, they obviously aren’t going to learn how to figure it out themselves. I know “kids show” and all that, but if the kids who read the book were able to understand, and love, the story without it being almost all exposition, why would they not get it when it’s in the form of media they do know and consume now?

When adapting a story, it’s expected that things get cut and altered to fit the new media and really take all the advantages of that media to show pieces of the story that wouldn’t have worked in the original source. But in the case of Gabe turning to stone, it’s only talked about and isn’t actually in the book. Where in the show you show Gabe turning to stone but make it something he brought upon himself. It would not have taken more time or been any harder to have Sally take care of Gabe like we know she does. They could’ve shown her doing it, or followed the books way and only show the outcome. It is astounding how hard they worked to not have the story play out visually in visual media. This feels like the show version of the “highlight everything, if it wasn’t important it wouldn’t be included” mindset.

I understand the source material is a first person book, so everything is in the form of dialogue or internal monologue but you’re working with visual media, everyone doesn’t need to always state what is happening.

Needing to condense and simplify the story to work for the form of media you’re in is the whole point of adapting. It’s supposed to take advantage of the different things you can do that you couldn’t do in the original form of media. Having people explain what things are and what’s happening is definitely something that could happen in a book, but it didn’t happen in The Lightning Thief  because it doesn’t make for a good story. So why would doing that in visual media make for any better of a story?

Is it Good

The build-up to the show was full of Rick promising it would be far more faithful then the [REDACTED] movie. All that press really helped get everyone excited because the fandom, much like Rick himself, hate the movies and how much they changed the story. Then the show comes along and repeats the mistake of the movies in different ways, a fact made all the more worse with everything Rick had promised. The show is more faithful to the books then the movies, but that isn’t a very high bar.

I’ve seen a few people mention that they should’ve made the show animated, with the main reason of character congruency since real life people obviously grow up. A thing made more obvious with the timeline most streaming shows end up taking. And while that probably would’ve been a better show, I think if they had just treated this like a real television show and made it on a classic (read mostly outdated, unfortunately) timeline it would’ve ended up a much better, more consistent show. There were also the points of special effects and the gods all looking better animated, which again they would have, but if done right, would look especially good in live action. I mean imagine watching a real Percy Jackson come face to face with a well-designed, perfectly intimidating Hades, and it all looks as real as they can get with CGI.

A friend of mine, who had to put up with my ramblings about this the whole time, said “As someone who isn’t a dedicated fan of the books and just read the first book for 6th grade English… I can’t say anything about the show as an adaptation but as its own thing, I’d honestly say it was between ‘ok’ and ‘great’ and I think the fanbase deserves better than halfway between ok and good”.

The flashback with Sally and Poseidon talking about Percy and Poseidon just being there to support her does so much. It’s easily the best scene in the entire show, and my favorite, hands down. The final episode of the season let the story work. It’s probably my favorite episode, even if I don’t like how they ended up handling Gabe. Since it’s a post-credit scene I’ve decided to not let it affect this.

The behind the scenes documentary was a chance for me to step back and look at the whole show not just all those tiny details that drive me crazy. Solidifying that the only real complaint is the writing, which is important, because the acting, set design, casting, direction, just everything except parts of the dialogue are so good. It isn’t even all the writing, just the over explaining. It’s one of those things where everything was set up to be perfect but one tiny thing didn’t hold it’s weight and tainted everything else.

The frustrating thing is I don’t think it’s the show (or even Disney) that’s at fault for why it wasn’t great. I think this is just the direction tv media (and all visual media) has been heading towards. If they had more time for the story, they would’ve been able to show us the in between moments and more interactions between our characters. The documentary really shows how much everyone working on it, both in the cast and crew, deeply care about the project. The way everyone talks about their work in the documentary make it so clear how much love and care went into to show. I’m more mad at the industry and streaming corruption making the show into what it was then the show as a whole.

It feels like the show version of not planning out where to write you letters on a poster. You start out all big and bold and slowly everything just gets more and more squished.

It’s a good show, and I did enjoy it. But it didn’t stand up to the expectations that were built up for it. Those expectations were so high, primarily because of Rick continuing to say it’ll be close to the book, and the knowledge that he was involved and hates the movies as much as the fans, gave me, and all of us, hope for the story. Then we got the story and while it wasn’t hugely changed, it was still fundamentally different. The moment I found out how long the show’s season was going to be, I knew it wasn’t going to be quite what I wanted or what it deserves to be because so much would have to be cut and/or altered to fit.

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[neopuff]

title: compliments word count: ~3100 ships/characters: sasha/milla, otto summary: Sasha struggles with his feelings and gets advice from an unlikely source. ao3 link: https://archiveofourown.org/works/51792757

It was not a familiar situation that he found himself in.

Sasha Nein was an expert on keeping his feelings in check - he was meticulous and orderly and just the slightest bit paranoid when it came to staying clear and level-headed. He was, however, only human. And being only human, there were occasions where his emotions would run away from him, as much as he tried to stay on top of things.

As he laid on the ground underneath his partner, his face hot and an awkward smile on his face (because what else could he do when his heart was beating so fast?), Sasha was faced with one of those occasions.

Professional as always, the two of them focused on their mission and getting each other safely back to base, rather than spend any time examining the moment they’d shared. But hours later, when Sasha found himself alone in his lab, accompanied only by the soft hum of Milla’s presence in his mind, he was able to sit and focus on his feelings.

Their partnership wasn’t something new. They’d been working together for a few years already, and often their minds would come together without even trying. Their closeness couldn’t be understated - they knew more about one another than anyone else in the Psychonauts.

His growing feelings for her were also not new. Sasha had been…working on them for several months, trying to understand if he was misinterpreting his attachment to her as romantic when it was simply admiration, or if he was truly falling in love with his partner. He wouldn’t be the first - not the first Psychonaut to fall for a fellow psychic, and not the first person to fall under the spell of Milla Vodello.

It took several weeks for him to admit the truth to himself - he was not just falling for her, he was already 100%, completely in love. It was…strange, to say the least. Based on his research, Sasha had assumed this realization would make him feel more antsy or nervous around her. Instead, he felt calmer. Having her in his mind was always comforting. She never pried or spied or dug into areas he asked her not to. She was respectful of his privacy, just as he was to hers.

Genuinely, Sasha didn’t think his feelings for Milla would become a problem. He had no intention of acting on them or telling her anything about them, and he’d never let his feelings for her get in the way of his work. He was a Psychonaut first, human being second.

Of course, that was easier said than done.

Milla Vodello was beautiful and affectionate and friendly. And she was touchy - she liked to hold hands, link arms, kiss cheeks, hug. Sasha Nein normally wasn’t a fan of any of those sorts of things, though when Milla was the one initiating, he had no problem whatsoever.

There was one particular evening on a foggy day in April, when Milla let him know that she would be spending the night at a loud party with a friend named Francisco, and suggested that they could temporarily sever their psychic connection.

“I wouldn't want you to get a headache, darling,” Milla had said very sweetly.

And he agreed with her. It made sense. He didn't enjoy loud music or clubs and Milla explained that she hadn't gone partying with her friend in a long time, so she planned on drinking more than usual. It was a Friday, she'd already requested leave for the weekend - there was no professional reason for Sasha to do anything but agree.

But as he tried to work that night, as he often did, Sasha’s thoughts kept drifting to her friend Francisco. He was unfamiliar with the man - Milla had only mentioned him once or twice before while telling stories from her younger years. Those stories weren’t particularly detailed - Sasha had no real indication of what her relationship with Francisco was. It sounded like they were friends. But…relationships could change at any moment.

Psychonaut first, human being second was repeating in his head for over an hour, in a booming German voice that sounded oddly similar to his father’s, when Sasha realized he’d gone through an entire pack of cigarettes.

He felt deeply ashamed that simply the idea of Milla maybe being on a romantic outing with someone she shared history and interests with had put him in such a stupor. He’d gotten no work done and wasted money by smoking too much too quickly.

That was the first time that Sasha Nein considered the possibility of telling someone how he felt about her. The thought of telling Milla made his face turn red and his eye twitch, but perhaps he could tell…someone else. If therapy had taught him anything at all, it was the benefit of talking things out.

Unfortunately, he was not currently seeing a therapist. And he didn’t have many people he could call his friends. No family. He had a friendly(ish?) relationship with some of the Psychic Six, but was worried that there could be professional repercussions if he told them he was struggling. Sasha relied on his partnership with Milla more than he ever thought he would, and if talking about his feelings meant the possibility of losing her, he would keep his mouth shut forever.

“Burning the midnight oil, Sasha?”

Sasha turned around, surprised to find one of the Psychic Six standing at his doorway. Normally Sasha was keenly aware of his surroundings at all times; just another piece of evidence that he was getting distracted. “Otto. Can I help you with something?”

Otto Mentallis tilted his head slightly and smirked - he had always liked Sasha and he didn’t keep that a secret. They had a lot in common, and Otto saw a bit of himself in the man. “Just smelled more smoke than usual, wanted to make sure you hadn’t fallen asleep with a lit cigarette in your mouth.”

“Ah.” Sasha sighed, even more ashamed of himself than before. He glanced over at the ashtray on his desk and frowned at the sight of so many cigarette butts clumped together.

Following his line of sight, Otto raised a curious eyebrow. “Is something stressing you out, Nein? That looks worse than usual.”

Sasha paused, considering his options. His first instinct was to lie and say he was fine, there’s nothing on his mind. But Otto was a man of logic over emotions - though he wasn’t always known for respecting privacy, the man’s complete lack of interest in romance could make him the ideal person to discuss his problems with.

“...yes. Something is bothering me, actually,” Sasha said quietly, finally relenting.

Otto looked momentarily surprised by that and walked over to Sasha’s desk. “Let’s hear it, then. Maybe I can help you out.”

“It’s…complicated.” Sasha felt completely out of place, not sure how to word his feelings or his concerns. “I…I’ve been looking through the Psychonauts Handbook for an answer.”

“About?”

Sasha took a breath. “Fraternization.”

The look on Otto’s face would’ve been comical if Sasha wasn’t busy being too emotionally compromised to pay attention. That very clearly was not a word that the older man was prepared to hear.

“That’s, uh…hm,” Otto started, putting a hand to his chin. “I’m guessing this means you and Agent Vodello finally hooked up.”

Sasha’s body froze, bewilderment taking priority over his embarrassment. “...I don’t know what you mean by that.”

“Hook up? Really? It’s -”

The younger agent held up one hand, his other pinching the bridge of his nose. “I don’t know what you mean by finally.”

Otto chuckled awkwardly. “Well. You two are closer than the average partners - I’m sure you’ve noticed that. Everyone else has.”

Sasha felt himself getting more and more embarrassed by the second. “I…no, I didn’t realize that. We work very well together, but we’ve never…” He paused, trying to figure out what to do with his hands. He felt like a fool for thinking a conversation could improve his situation. “We’re just partners. And friends.”

“Alright, sure.” Otto didn’t sound convinced, but he was confused. “So then why the question of fraternization? You hooked up with someone else?”

“There has been no hooking up with anyone,” Sasha answered, starting to get impatient. Otto had a habit of running his mouth instead of letting other people talk, which was usually only slightly annoying. At that moment, Sasha found it agitating. “I…I think I’m…”

His mouth suddenly got dry, his cheeks flushed, his hands shaky.

Otto tilted his head again. “You don’t have to tell me if you don’t want to, you know.”

“I’m…in love with Agent Vodello,” Sasha said quietly, not realizing how strange it would feel to say it out loud. He’d barely even said the words in his head - out loud, it felt like he wasn’t even speaking. Like his words weren’t his own.

“Ah. Alright.”

The room grew silent for a few moments, and Sasha could feel the awkward tension in the air get thicker and thicker. He glanced up at Otto and was confused to see the man staring off into the distance, contemplative hand to his chin.

The older man finally spoke again after what felt like an eternity. “So what is your concern, exactly? Are you asking if you’re allowed to be in love with your partner?”

Listening to his question worded in such a way made Sasha feel like a fool. It sounded very, very stupid. “I…I don’t know,” he answered uncomfortably. “I’m worried my feelings will get in the way of our partnership.”

“Well, what’d she say about it?” Otto asked pointedly, almost like it was a completely normal follow-up question.

Sasha shook his head, unable to make his embarrassment lessen. “I haven’t said anything to her. And I’d prefer if you didn’t, either.”

Otto stepped closer, leaning against Sasha’s desk with his arms crossed over his chest. “Even I’ve got more tact than that, Nein. But I’m confused. Why not tell her? She probably feels the same way. Then you can get married and have babies if you want all that.”

Sasha felt his cheeks turning somehow even redder. “I-....I don’t-” He took a deep breath. “It’s not that I don’t necessarily want that. Or not want that. But I don’t think she feels the same way and I wouldn’t want to make her uncomfortable.”

Otto hummed. It was clear he wanted to say something that might not go over well, just from the way he was sorting through his thoughts. But Sasha couldn’t imagine how their conversation could possibly get worse.

“You’re overthinking this.”

“Am I?” Sasha asked genuinely.

“You’ve been partners for years. Even if she didn’t feel the same way, she clearly cares about you dearly,” Otto started - his voice was monotone, almost like he was reading something. “She’d never want to lose you as a partner and wouldn’t let a little thing like this get in the way of your teamwork.”

Sasha sighed, unconvinced. “It doesn’t feel like a little thing to me.”

Otto rolled his eyes and put a hand on Sasha’s shoulder. It was clear to both of them that he was not used to comforting someone in such a way, but he was doing a better job than either could’ve imagined. “You should try telling her, then.”

“I-...I don’t see that happening in the near future.”

“Well, try to do it before you die, at least.” Otto shrugged. “You work dangerous jobs, it’d be a shame to move on without getting to say it.”

He had a point, Sasha had to admit. He and Milla had already been in plenty of near-death situations where he’d felt an urge to hold her close and never let go.

“I can’t imagine where Bob would be if he’d never said anything,” Otto mumbled, off in his own world. “Probably even more miserable than he already is.”

Sasha frowned. He wasn’t much of a drinker, but the idea of losing Milla the way that Bob Zanotto lost his husband was almost too much to consider. He didn’t want to die without telling her. But he didn’t want to burden her with his feelings if she didn’t feel the same way. It was a difficult line he needed to balance on - but he was nothing if not a man of balance.

“You could just try flirting. See how she responds.”

Somehow, that suggestion was even more exhausting than straightforwardly telling her how he felt. “It should be obvious that I’ve never flirted with anyone in my life.”

Otto scoffed. “All you have to do is compliment her. I’m sure you already do that.”

“I…” Did he? Sasha had complimented her skills, her bravery, the many obstacles she’d overcome to get to where she was. He was constantly impressed by her and admired her in so many ways. He even, very occasionally, complimented her appearance - though only if she did something new with her hair or was dressed up for a special event.

“If you think she looks good, tell her so. Women love that.”

Sasha felt embarrassed again. “She always looks good.”

“Tell her, then!” Otto slapped him on the back. “Maybe she’ll smile and say you look good, too. Maybe she’ll kiss you. Lots of options, Nein.”

“I think this has been the most uncomfortable conversation of my life,” Sasha said, one hand over his mouth as he glared into the distance.

Otto chuckled. “Then you need to have more uncomfortable conversations! This is nothing.” The older man sighed and stretched, loudly cracking his back. “You need to quit overthinking and just be yourself.”

Sasha sighed again. “It’s hard not to overthink when she’s…out with someone right now.”

“Boyfriend?”

“I don’t believe so.”

“Then what’s the issue?” Otto’s wrinkled face was scrunched up in confusion. 

“I don't know what the issue is! But I've not been able to get it off my mind,” Sasha confessed, exasperated. “I’m not accustomed to…jealousy.”

Rather than a chuckle, this time Otto laughed - loudly. It made Sasha steam with embarrassment and frustration.

“Nein, trust me. You’ll be fine.” Otto patted the younger man’s shoulder and sighed almost dreamily, thinking back to something from years past. “If you ever feel an urge to follow her or sabotage her other relationships, then you’ve got a problem. A little jealousy never hurt anyone.”

Desperately wanting this conversation to end, Sasha relented and sighed - he was going to try to listen to Otto. He’d take the man’s advice and see how it went. “For someone who’s claimed to never been in a relationship, you’ve been acting very knowledgeable about the subject.”

“That’s what happens when you’re always watching from the outside.” Otto wagged one finger knowingly. “It gives you more perspective.”

Sasha had to admit, that made a lot of sense.

“Now trust my methods! You’ll see, Sasha, it’ll work out.”

“...I’ll try.”

X

There was no drama or fanfare when Milla reconnected their minds the next day. Sasha kept his questions brief - did you have a good time with your friend, did you make sure to drink plenty of water - and Milla seemed satisfied. She didn't mention anything significant, the club played some older music that she hadn't heard in years and that made the experience more fun, apparently. But otherwise there was nothing of note, and it didn’t seem like she was hiding anything from him, either.

On Monday morning when she floated into his office to bring him what would be his second cup of coffee for the day, Sasha slowly turned his head to stare. She looked lovely every day, just as he'd said to Otto, but something about her did seem lovelier that morning.

Perhaps it was seeing her for the first time in several days.

She placed the coffee on his desk and Sasha smiled at her awkwardly. “Um…Camilla?”

“Yes, darling?”

“You, uh…you look very nice today.”

Her head popped up and there was a confused expression on her face - but she certainly didn't look unhappy. 

She seemed flattered, if he had to guess.

“Why thank you, Sasha!” Milla answered, clasping her hands together in front of her. “And you look very handsome as always!”

He blushed and quickly turned away from her, wondering if she was just being polite. “I also wanted to say that, um.” He cleared his throat. “Your levitation skills are admirable. Any Psychonaut would be happy to have half your talent.”

There was a moment of silence in the room, a moment where Sasha thought he might've somehow said something wrong. But then very suddenly, Milla’s arms were wrapped around his shoulders and she placed a gentle kiss against his cheek.

“I'm not sure what's come over you, darling, but I'm a huge fan!” Milla said as she pulled away. “A girl could get used to so many compliments.”

Sasha huffed, resisting the urge to place his hand against his cheek where there was undoubtedly a lipstick stain. He couldn't believe how right Otto had been. “I just wanted to…make sure you know how much I value you.”

Her eyes sparkled for a moment and her smile couldn't have been wider. “You’re so sweet today, Sasha. Did something happen this weekend?”

“Not at all.” He didn't need to tell her that he was jealous of her going out with another man that he knew nothing about. “Just wanted to make sure you knew.”

She floated up and bent her knees, hands still clasped together and hanging down under her legs. She was smiling so much that it was hurting her face, but how could she stop? “I appreciate that. And you, of course.”

There was a glint in her eyes that made Sasha think she had more she wanted to say, but he didn't pry. He couldn't do too much on a Monday morning or she'd start asking more questions. Instead, he simply nodded at her and hoped the heat on his cheeks wasn't noticeable.

“Have a good day, darling,” Milla said as she floated back out the door.

He didn't respond, but it was less than a minute later that he felt her psychic presence in his mind. 

“Would you like to have lunch together today?”

Sasha smiled, feeling accomplished despite the fact that they almost always ate lunch together. On the days that he remembered to eat lunch, of course. “Sounds excellent.”

Her response was a burst of positive energy that Sasha felt seep into his bones. He'd definitely be listening to Otto more often.

[secretofthetelegian]

Godzilla Fandom does not Exist

On February 18, 2023, it came to light that Mark Jaramillo was involved with a Child P*rn Ring and did time in prison for his crimes. He is now out on parole and has made tentative attempts to reassert an online presence. Jaramillo initially entered the community spotlight by being a co-creator of Kaiju Gaiden; an ambitious documentary project highlighting independent tokusatsu projects native to Japan and centred on the Wolfman vs. Godzilla fan-film worked on piecemeal throughout the early to mid-eighties. It was something of a unicorn piece of lost media, being only seen in a few still frames and without any more specific information than being a fan film. It was the creation of Shizuo Nakajima, a former Production Assistant of Toho’s that worked on Godzilla vs. Mechagodzilla and Terror of Mechagodzilla. 

The interest was immediately high. The Kaiju Eiga canon is known pretty much back to front and for the first time in decades that canon was about to get expanded in a fairly substantial and interesting way. A Kickstarter went live and raised $30,591; almost $6,000 over campaign goal. Jaramillo and his co-creator David Hall effectively pitched, in the fine print anyways, something that would be ambitious for seasoned documentarians and an absolute fool's errand for two people with no prior filmmaking experience whatsoever. 

This did not dissuade the fan community in the slightest. Two people even pledged $1,000. Two more pledged $2,000. It would all be for not. Nothing more than a shoddy trailer was produced. David Hall disappeared and so did Mark. The assumption was that Mark stepped away from the internet to wait until things blew over, getting away with his cut of the loot in the process.  However, as of this writing it is clear now what the actual reason was for his absence from online life. 

This is a quick, handwaved summary of the Kaiju Gaiden debacle. It is largely not the point. Independent fan projects fail all the time. Kickstarter campaigns rip people off all the time. The point is that the Kickstarter campaign was inadvertently a collective vetting by the western fan community of two con-men operating from either malice, stupidity, or some combination of the two - one of whom is now a convicted paedophile, to fly to Japan and involve themselves in the lives and artistic works of innocent people. Shizuo Nakajima started this process thinking he was going to be able to show his long languishing project to an eager and receptive audience by way of his association with David Hall and Mark Jaramillo. He ends this process photographed holding a sign unwittingly expressing his support for a sex offender and his dead documentary.

This should be the height of absolute shame and humiliation and everyone should be asking serious questions about how exactly we arrived at this state of affairs; but community luminaries have been largely mum on the topic. Empty expressions of being “Shocked and appalled.”, delivered in the cheeky use of singular GIF responses in some cases have been the order of the day. The overwhelming sense lurking through comment sections by those who bothered to try and signal boost the revelations about Jaramillos crimes have been performative and flat. The reactions are stunningly understated considering the amount of life or death energy that gets spent on discourse about blackface in King Kong vs Godzilla or the validity of GODZILLA ‘98 in the official canon. 

I’m going to try and do a bit of a brief anthropological dissection of how exactly the specific Godzilla fandom operates to set the stage for a broader point. First, it’s important to highlight three things about Godzilla fans that I find are unique to this community as opposed to other niche fanbases. 

Godzilla fans were deeply self-conscious about the perceived institutional legitimacy of their fixation - in this case, the institution to which they seek validation is Cinema itself. In response to snide remarks or just casual indifference to the genre, they will preach from on high the legacy of Ishiro Honda and the powerful messaging of the original 1954 GODZILLA as if it were a new book of the biblical canon, divinely inspired. They will overcompensate to the point of absurdity to beat the charges of cheap, junk B-movies. This inadvertently does a disservice to the very thing they so dearly and deeply love, by misrepresenting to overcome a feeling of inadequacy. 

Godzilla fans are obsessive over informational accuracy. For many decades, the western press was rife with snark and in some cases pure fabrication. If you ever want to see a Godzilla fan get spooled up, ask them about the alternate ending to the original King Kong vs. Godzilla. Insist you remember seeing it. Dismiss their explanations with a quick remark and move on. You will be shocked at the display that follows shortly after. This informational inaccuracy was perceived as a sign not of just innocent ignorance, but an active affront to respect the genre was entitled to. 

Godzilla fans have never successfully bridged the divide East & West. Not even a casual social mingling between native Japanese fans and outsider Westerners on the early internet frontier. There’s probably a variety of factors that play into this, some of which are not the fault of those on this side of the ocean specifically. However, I do remember in those formative years wondering why Super Sentai fandom was able to get subtitled episodes of new shows that were released seemingly only a few weeks behind Japanese broadcast dates, while nobody could figure out how to get subtitles for singular Godzilla or Kaiju movies that were almost thirty years old at the time.

While the present era of niche-gone-mainstream media tastes (and readily available and accurate translation software) has largely curbed these idiosyncrasies, they have laid a bedrock that has persisted since at least the nineties. Godzilla fans depended on networks of connected “in the know” individuals, usually credentialed, to provide legitimacy to their interest by running defence in legitimising publications and other mainstream venues. These select few folks also act as intermediaries between the fanbase and genre celebrities; actors, filmmakers, artists etc. 

People would treat these intermediary figures with absolute reverence and default to them for guidance and clarification on all matters. By wrangling a celebrity to the convention circuit, you by your act of networking would then become a celebrity for this hyper-niche crowd. By penning some lengthy tome of a film studies book you were fighting against ignorance, and for that you earned not just appreciation for your hard work, you earned a kind of intense loyalty; loyalty that I have personally never observed occurring elsewhere in other communities. Sure, fans deify creators all the time, even fictional characters, but subject matter experts? specialty film journalists?

This select group of people is relatively small. If you're reading this you very likely know of at least some of them. They invariably are older, working in some professional capacity with the genre, have publications to their name, active in the convention scene, and can afford the occasional flight to Japan. They’re guests on podcasts and are usually pretty eager to keep their name relevant. Or maybe they are truly just dedicated diehard fans operating out of love for the genre. Who knows. 

As time has gone by, a lot of the high value genre celebrities have passed on. The evolution of the internet has normalised wiki-style databases, effectively democratising information that was once the purview of people who had connections in Japan or the means to have materials translated; anything they might have had is eventually published for profit, which is than purchased by fans who than provide that information for the broadest possible digital access. Only the most tertiary films of the genre remain unavailable. When you see people complaining about Wikizilla or Gojipedia for accuracy, ask yourself what their relationship to this information is and why they might actually have an issue with these websites. If they find inaccuracies they can simply correct them. Do they? If not, why not? 

This brings us back to Mark Jaramillo and David Hall. They didn’t just strike gold with Wolfman vs. Godzilla, they found El Dorado. Red carpets were rolled out not just for Shizuo Nakajima, but David and Mark. In Nakajima’s 2013 G-FEST panel appearance, Nakajima himself can hardly get a word in edgewise. The cycle had begun a new with a new pair of revered micro-legends. I want people to do some quick maths with me here based on what is stated on the Kaiju Gaiden campaign goals. 

Quote;

Filming takes place this October, and your contributions will help us to complete the story upon our return.

When donors receive updates, it will be of behind the scenes in Japan, as the funding is still ongoing! The more funding we receive, the more we can expand upon the original idea and make this project even more awesome!

FIrst of all, this makes it appear as if the $30,000 is to assist in the completion of the film upon our return. Meaning, the funds are to be used for post-production, or in layman's terms, assembling of the final finished product. This is not just a fickle nitpick, this is a completely different budgeting arrangement than using the raised money to fund the actual trip and production.  But, moving on…

$35K Monthly 20 min ONLINE SHOWS (Free)- The many segments and films that were not able to be included within the film can be added as bi-weekly webisodes. We have that much content, and that many films to talk about! This would be planned for 2 years, Starting in January 2015. Episodes would feature interviews and clips, and hosted by Mark Jaramillo and/or David Hall. It Would be available on Youtube and for Digital Download.

Let's think about this very carefully. Biweekly episodes for 2 years is 52 weeks. 20 minutes a week, for 52 weeks comes in at just over 17 hours of substantive, unused material. What? How long were they in Japan? How many people are being interviewed? How many movies are they talking about? The “official roster” of films known to be in Kaiju Gaiden proper is eleven; half of which are merely short films and some of those are barely five minutes or incomplete. How long are these interviews? Who did they track down in addition to the people besides those involved with that initial eleven? Why is this additional content, which again has either already been shot or least planned to be shot, being gatekept behind demands for an additional ten grand above the original campaign goal? 

Put more succinctly; what fans gave money for was a singular feature length documentary called Kaiju Gaiden, but in the fine print that was freely available to read was a grandiose scheme to set up a cross-platform media enterprise. What the likely outcome was, whether they explicitly thought of it this way or not, was to ensure that entire catalogues of previously unseen films that have minimal to no studio rights issues would permanently have Mark and Davids greasy paw prints all over them in order to be viewable to a niche market segment eager for new content - but no one bothered to see the forest for the trees. 

In summary, the question I ask is this; what level of responsibility does a community have for those it reveres and elevates to positions of access and authority? To those who claim “none”, Kaiju Gaiden was never really intended for mass appeal. It was explicitly aimed and pushed within the kaiju fandom. It was made for fans, by fans, who sourced additional production value from working artist-fans and collectively signed off on by fans who voted with their dollar. The amount of donors was only 318. This campaign did not break through into the mainstream and garner viral energy. Its success is solely the consequence of the fanbase who clamoured for it and either did not care or could not tell that the project was far to ambitious for those involved. If the project was a success, everyone would be eating out of the palms of their hands for the next morsel of rubber suited content. They knew this and we would be eager to oblige. 

If people are actually serious about some notion of a cohesive Godzilla community (and there are certainly people who make allusions to that) that is not a toxic hellhole riff with backbiting cliques and fosters creative expression, international outreach, and does not tolerate fly-by-night hucksters with more ideas than brain cells to continuously fleece people out of their time and money, it’s one that has to be considered. If a country “gets the politicians it deserves”, as is occasionally said, then a fandom gets the niche eCelebrities it deserves; and the Godzilla eCelebrity class is a gallery of petty elitist dinosaurs who regard the rest of the community outside of their circle as rubes to be shake down and talk down to, if they regard them at all. 

Now, the uglier bits. 

I have an extremely, and I mean extremely hard time believing that this is the first that certain people have heard of Jaramillo and his CSAM charges. The Godzilla fandom, and I mean the shrinking and ageing Godzilla-is-my-Core-Identity crowd, is very small. You, YOU reading this, are probably only three degrees of separation from some players with serious pull and credentials in this little digital island. We know, definitively, that August Ragone was aware of some well connected Toku enthusiast from Los Angeles who was “fortunately in federal prison right now” (4:50) because he said precisely that on some podcast, hosted by “garagepro7” who, judging by his reaction, also knew about this person in federal prison. This was in 2020. 

Maybe Ragone just happens to be connected to multiple Godzilla fans who have ended up in federal prisons and it’s not Jaramillo that’s being referenced here. What a run of bad luck that would be - but until we get further clarity in the off chance that lightning can strike the same place twice, lets keep going safely assuming he is speaking of Mark Jaramillo and not an unknown other person deeply obsessed with independent tokusatsu in federal prison. 

So did Ragone not tell anyone? Anyone at all about this? If some D-list podcaster was in the know enough to get what he was referencing, judging by his reaction, is it not probable to the point of certainty that actually relevant folks were given a heads up? What about Matt Frank, who provided art for Kaiju Gaiden? Was Jeff Zornow informed? What about G-Fest organiser Jeff Horne, who is involved with the annual in-person meet up where the wheeling and dealing of goods and contacts occur? This information existed in the social ecosystem of the community for at least three years if not longer and none were the wiser, huh? Not a fucking chance. 

So I ask; do people who have influence and the collective ear of an online community have moral and ethical responsibilities to that community? You may say no. I would disagree; however, it is a prerequisite in the internet age and an expectation of young people who grew up with the internet that those who are looked up to will at least do some bare minimum due diligence and alert them if they are aware of dangerous people who may be out and about. If the fandom is to be an attractive place for newer generations, it will by necessity be required to start picking up the slack. Otherwise, it will cease to exist. 

Younger people are more cognisant of the social capital that is accrued in online spaces, even if they don't necessarily articulate it in such specific terms. In exchange for them paying attention to you, treating you as a subject matter authority, buying your books and art, and listening to your interviews, expectations are placed upon you for this privilege - and it is a privilege. Having a set designer from Gunhed in your contacts list or an ability to perfectly capture the essence of every incarnation of Godzilla with a pencil does not entitle you to adoration. 

A possible follow-up you might have; what good does alerting people online actually do, if a bunch of random strangers online have no legal resource to take? This is my answer - it establishes a community standard and a precedent that if you are caught and tried in a court of law for crimes of the most heinous sort, your ability to re-integrate online after will be severely curbed and hampered. You will not be welcome. Those who have large social media followings will alert as many people within their reach of who you are and what you did, for the benefit and safety of the community.

This is not “cancellation” or “spectacle” in some narrow political sense where those with supposedly unsavoury views are put on notice. These are divisive incidents that terrorise those who are on the receiving end and sport for those who partake in it. There is no sport in publicly alerting others to a child abuser - it is uncomfortable business that requires tact and maturity. It only becomes spectacle by the degree to which you present it as such. I am not interested in reading the gory details about what people think should be done to those who abuse children and I am not more convinced of your commitment to not abusing children by how much you’re willing to carry on at length about how you want to stuff them into wood chippers. 

Jaramillo was posting again online as early as October 2022, by December he was reaching out to people through DMs. As of the writing of this draft, his latest Facebook post was 11 days ago. Jaramillo is not merely lurking around and keeping to himself. 

The people who I have specified here, if this comes to them in any way, will very likely deny knowledge of the Jaramillo situation post-Kaiju Gaiden. I do not believe them. I am not demanding action be taken against individuals. The tests of their character have already been marked and graded. There is no justice to be served for their shortcomings.  

Matt Frank is a young man who made his career with fanart on DeviantART. He is talented and earned his bones by being amicable and enthusiastic and hardworking; but he has, in the past, used his substantial social media following to alert the fan base to a person whose political opinions he personally finds reprehensible. He was even successful in kneecapping that budding writer's own efforts. I am not remotely interested in whether you think this was a good thing or a bad thing. The point is that he is not oblivious to the modern mode of signal boosting communal alerts and his justification is some sense of responsibility to the wider Godzilla fandom, no matter how murky and vague it is to himself or others, and a vision for what this fandom “should be”, which is not friendly to people he believes are politically dangerous. 

If Matt Frank was aware of Mark Jaramillo’s charges, and there will have to be some fairly serious evidence that Matt Frank was not aware, why did this same sense of responsibility that motivated the cancelling of another creator not kick in? Involving yourself in CSAM is largely a bipartisan issue that people of every political stripe can agree is bad. The “controversy” would be minimal. So where did that sense of urgency go? How easy would it have been to draft a post of similar wording to the one made that put all of this into the public eye in the first place? Frank can wax poetic about the woes and destitute nature of the Gatekeeping-White-Male-Fanboy, but when the moment comes to bring that passion for the good of the community on account of a dangerous pervert, suddenly it's crickets. Or it’s soul searching. Whatever.

August Ragone is a salty old dog, and like any old dog you can’t teach it new tricks. Ragones concern is singularly and primarily his own status and ability to make a living while indulging his life long passion. Fair enough, my man. If it simply never occurred to him that you could or should alert the broader digital commons to a convicted sex offender, or at the very least the people to whom that sex offender is professionally tied, because he was used to regarding these things as the kind of gossip you bring up over a few beers, I would be inclined to believe him. I suppose in its own way, consistency is a virtue. 

Do I have a theory as to why they have failed to operate with anything resembling a backbone? In my estimation, it’s either A) bog standard moral cowardice and emotional immaturity that prevents basic adult responses to issues that are actually important or B) reluctance to risk tampering with the status quo of guest appearances, commissioned works, and convention gigs that serious controversy might bring up. 

There is no cohesive Godzilla community that watches out for itself in the most basic universal human ways. There are a bunch of people watching movies being corralled by those with the credentials and authority that were granted to them who treat you all as one fat piggy bank. Nobody will look out for you. If they happen to be aware of dangerous predatory people in the crowds, it is simply not their business to let you know. If they are suspicious of snake oil salesmen peddling things that are too-good-to-be-true, they will say nothing. 

On one hand, I do not feel much sympathy for the consequence of the fleecing done by the Kaiju Gaiden kickstarter campaign. You were to busy staring at the baubles and trinkets bounced in your faces to see the red-flags that were apparent in their pitch and personal conduct - to comfortable in the incestuous and parasitic social network that had always followed through with another sweet scoop of overpriced slop from the Land of the Rising Sun. You clowns get what you deserve. Choke on it. 

But on the other, the total failure of certain people who command your attention is far to much to not summarise plainly in one place. You may by and large be consumeristic pigs, but you absolutely do not deserve to have a dangerous and predatory pervert lurk so freely in your midst. You do not deserve the feeling of shock and horror of realising who may have spoken to you after the fact (if such a thing did or does occur), you absolutely do not deserve to have your social circles overlap with those of people who barter with parents trying to sell content of their own children.

Keep watching the movies. Show them to your loved ones. They’re delightful and one of a kind pieces of pop cinema. But stop joining message boards. Stop joining fanclubs. Don’t go to conventions. Do something else with your time. Stop identifying as “A Godzilla Fan”; Godzilla fandom does not exist.

[sablelab]

Covert Operations - Chapter 229

SYNOPSIS: Murtagh Fitzgibbons arrives at Jamie’s office to explain everything they wish to know of his subterfuge in regards to being his godfather.

Chapter 228 and all other chapters can be found at … https://sablelab.tumblr.com/covertoperations 

 *This can also be read on AO3

THANK YOU all for supporting my writing of this story for so long.  I sincerely appreciate your patronage. Thank you all so much. 👋

CHAPTER 229

Flushed from the intimate kisses they had shared in this private moment in his office, Jamie and Claire waited for his godfather to finally make an appearance.   No doubt Murtagh had been biting at the bit to explain all the reasons why he had been so secretive in his relationship with them, but all was forgiven now that they knew the truth of his actions.  Had they known that he was keeping a watchful eye over them and his Sassenach since her recruitment, then things may have been different.  But now that Jamie knew that Murtagh was indeed family, something in him that he had buried deep within his feelings rose to the surface.

Just who was his godfather, Murtagh Fitzgibbons Fraser?  Jamie thought long and hard on that question and came up with some thought provoking answers from his observations and dealings with him.

His first recollections of Murtagh were as his initial trainer.  He was excellent in that role having passed on his many survival skills honed during the Vietnam War.  From his connection with him in Section over the years, his godfather was the one who had accepted the role he played within the institution. Not only was he expert in all kinds of weaponry, Murtagh was Section One’s wise counsel, the one that Fergus and Claire turned to for sage advice.  His godfather understood the mechanics of the goings on at Section but had little regard for protocols and authority if it was repressive, which Madeline and Operations’ orders were on most occasions.  He was nonconformist and although cantankerous at times and recalcitrant at others, he was to be admired. Over the many years he had been incarcerated here, he had learned the art of survival and to not sweat the big things.  This caused him to be at loggerheads with Operations from time to time but Murtagh managed to hold his own nonetheless.

His godfather had been around the block a few times, hence Murtagh never shied away from speaking his own opposing views and he’d ruffled a few feathers in his time. He was an honourable man and a confidante to those he loved. He was also fiercely protective of those he cared about, and if they were harmed, he took revenge.  Murtagh Fitzgibbons didn’t need words to convey the powerful and endearing presence of his persona in Section. His company was enough for operatives to know that he was a man of principles. As a father figure within Section, he could appease their every concern and set them on a way to how to live within the restraints of Section One.

He helped Claire in her melancholy several times with humour and wit. Murtagh may have been seen as a bit of a larrikin, but he was anything but.  His loyalties were to the people he loved, his Sassenach and himself, his fiancée Bóinne and his buddy Fergus Claudel. His godfather had a huge big heart, a kind and strong personality, and a devoted loyalty to those close to him.  After their gruesome, heartbreaking treatment at the hands of the Rising Dragons at the monastery, Murtagh’s depth of wisdom and perception was in recognizing that someone would have to step into the dark with his Sugar in order to save her, and she him. However much he may have wanted to help him and Claire recover from their ordeal, he did everything in his power to support them in their recovery, keeping a watchful eye from a distance.

His quiet intelligence was understated but highly evident with his shrewd assessment of Dougal and Madeline’s motives, to his creative plans to bucking the system to help his loved ones. Murtagh took great joy in his laidback attitude that had helped him survive for so long in Section.  His hovering from a distance over him and his Sassenach was done out of his love and allegiance to them. One of his most endearing and defining traits was his straightforwardness. Murtagh Fitzgibbons called a spade a spade and although Operations didn’t appreciate his forthrightness, he tolerated him due to this expertise in keeping all operatives safe on missions.  He was fair and open-minded. He judged Claire by her actions and words, same as he did anyone else and he instinctively knew immediately that his Sugar was the perfect partner for his godson. 

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

Having assessed his godfather’s personality traits, James Fraser thought back to the very beginning of when he first came into Section One.

Everyone in Section, including himself, was a ghost … they were lost to the outside world and all communication was severed to their past life.  They were all dead to their relatives, buried in the “alternate cemetery” that was Section One … the organization that was deep within the bowels of the earth.  The symbolism of a grave and being underground was apt, given that those were but memories long passed.  Life in the real world went on without him and he was lost to the life he once knew. He, like other recruits had been in jail, but the thing he noticed that was similar to being incarcerated before his “death” was that Section One was able to gain complete compliance from its recruits through a highly centralized governance and surveillance system that monitored all operatives. Hence, Madeline and Operations were able to rule and control its affiliates so comprehensively through the sowing of distrust and manipulation among its members. Ruling by fear of cancellation was always a deterrent, so much so, that Section became worse than the life they had in prison before being recruited.  Section One was a jail, within a jail where no one was free to leave. But he cared naught for freedom.  He was resolved to live this new life under the restraints of Section One’s leaders. 

This new institution with a state-of-the-art security system and communications, was a secret world beyond anything he had ever imagined. It was a state in a state. This secret anti-terrorist government organization recruited society's misfits and trained them to become international assassins. This was the way recruitment to Section One was undertaken.  It was the way he himself had been recruited and then trained by his then unknown godfather Murtagh Fitzgibbons.  Being left-handed the older operative had always warned him to watch his right side, and he had done so when he had been sent on his first mission to Uzbekistan.  Murtagh had gone on that mission as well, and he had been made aware of this weakness to his right-hand side when Murtagh had saved him from an unforeseen attack.   From that day on he was unaware that the man had kept a watchful eye on him from afar, once he had completed his training. He never knew how proud Murtagh was of him as to how he had risen through the ranks so quickly, but there was always an air of admiration whenever Murtagh would look at him that often made him take stock.  He had never made any association with his behaviour, other than he was his original trainer and he had put it down to that.  Now he knew better.   

He had always had admiration for the munitions’ expert never realizing that there was a connection between the two of them.  He remembered many an occasion when Murtagh had designed special equipment for him when he was to go on a particularly difficult mission.  Murtagh Fitzgibbons Fraser was the "Q" of Section One. He always had his safety in mind and nothing was too much trouble for the armory expert to organize for him.  He was also the keeper of corporate knowledge and was the oldest surviving operative in Section, head of Munitions, responsible for creating new and necessary gadgets, tools and weapons for their operatives to use on various missions. Murtagh also knew absolutely everything about everyone that was, or had ever been, connected to Section One.

Then there were the times Murtagh had secretly approached him with a concern regarding Claire.  This happened when she was to go on a deep undercover with Madame Cheung and again when transferred to the Organised Crime and Triad Bureau looking for the mole passing on intel to the Rising Dragons.  Both of these missions were dangerous, especially because Madeline profiled them knowing that anything deep undercover would take Claire out of the picture long term, thus foiling the relationship between the two of them.  Not only that but these missions often put her in jeopardy. However, he was always one step ahead of them, and Murtagh knew that he would move heaven and earth to somehow come up with an alternate plan.  He would modify Claire’s profile and initiate a move where he would somehow place himself in the mission to protect her if needs be. Thankfully Murtagh had contacted him as to his Sassenach’s state of mind when she’d left for Hong Kong, although he had not told him why she was feeling this way.

He also remembered the time Murtagh had warned him that Operations and Madeline had ordered Fergus Claudel to sweep his panel after the mission to check if he had in anyway changed Claire’s profile scenario.  On that occasion Murtagh had followed him to the deserted area not under surveillance from Section One’s watchers. As he’d passed by, he had leaned out his hand and dragged his godfather into the alcove somewhat surprised at who was following him.  Murtagh had understood his look when he had said that Fergus would find nothing.  It was then that the older operative had offered to help in any way that he could.  His concern that time seemed genial, but now he realised that there was an underlying meaning to his words.  Murtagh was once again looking out for him.

“I’ll help … You could redirect the panels to me … I’ll look into it. They won’t find anything!” his godfather had intonated helpfully. 

Then there were other times that Murtagh Fitzgibbons had been concerned for his and Claire’s safety on the mission but he’d told him that everything was in control and not to worry. As her partner, he had her back. His reply telling him to go had only reassured him that she would be fine which only empathised what Murtagh knew to be true where her safety was concerned. 

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

As Jamie recalled his association and connection with his godfather, his Sassenach was doing the same.  It was as if Claire had ESP.  She could tell by Jamie’s expression that he was thinking back to when he originally came into Section and where he first came in contact with his godfather Murtagh Fitzgibbons.  Claire too recalled those times long past.  

Jamie’s and her recruitment to Section One had been through their “faked deaths” to the outside world, and like all the other recruits, they had entered Section against their wills. No one had a past; for your past was repressed in Section. Despite reiterating that she was an innocent, no one had listened to her pleas and they fell on deaf ears. She was even shown a picture of her own grave … “row eight, plot thirty…” thus signifying to her that there was no escape from the life she would now lead. Jamie was her mentor and trainer who’d trained her to become a high performing operative, who lived and killed for today…there was no past, or after life. Despite her protests she became more and more competent under his tutelage and killed only when utterly necessary.  She remembered her first kill and it was to protect Jamie himself when he was blindsided by an assassin. That initial kill had affected her deeply as it went against everything that she held important in maintaining her sanity, but when the life of her partner was threatened, she didn’t think twice to save him.

Life was indeed a hellhole under Madeline and Operations’ leadership, and if it had not been for the friendship of Murtagh Fitzgibbons, she didn’t know how she would have been able to cope with all the manipulations that she was forced to face. Murtagh was her loyal friend and confidante, even participating in a cover-up to hide the ongoing romantic status of her and Jamie.  He was her wise counsel and had given her sagacious advice when she was down. Her transfer to the Organised Crime and Triad Bureau had been a worry for she had mentioned it to him about her apprehension at going undercover yet again. Madeline and Operations always took any opportunity to place her as far away from Jamie as possible, and the Rising Dragons missions was the perfect chance to do so.  She remembered the mood she was in when she’d said to her friend … “Murtagh, it's just this place. It just gets to me sometimes, that's all."

She was disillusioned with so much but most of all this place that was Section One.  Thinking back, it was little wonder that she felt this way, for Madeline and Operations had demanded much of her in regards to the Rising Dragons’ triad. Their leaders had sent Jamie away from Section for a particularly difficult mission in the hope that they could once again place her as far away from him as possible.  Had it not been for Murtagh alerting Jamie to her despondency he would never have known.  Murtagh had sent word to him about her kidnapping and he had escalated the Mission in Senegal, in order to return early to Section to ask for the fifteen days owing to him in order to determine her location. What had then resulted in him finding her at the monastery was his capture too, his torture and their death sentence together in the gas chamber which had been nothing but a nightmare.  Little did they know at the time but Murtagh had volunteered to rescue them and his diligence and doggedness when they returned to Section was more than that of a friend.  Murtagh loved them both and he had done everything in his power to see that they both recovered from that ordeal.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

Looking back on this now in reflection it was difficult to come to terms with how they all survived everything that they had endured.

“Jamie?”

“Aye Sassenach.”

Her eyes were sparkling in genuine devotion. She looked at him and asked, “What is the one thing you wish to know from Murtagh when he arrives?”

Jamie pondered for a while and Claire watched as the expressions crossed his face as he tried to pinpoint one particular thing that was a necessity to ask him. “I cannae say Claire.  But I am intrigued as to how he managed to remain silent in the fact that he was my godfather for all these years.”

“Would it have changed you if you had known?”

Claire saw the deep wellspring of emotion that lay in his eyes as she asked this question.  He was conflicted with his thoughts as to how he felt. Looking at him intensely she could see the wheels turning over in his mind not knowing what he was grappling with.

"Jamie?" she uttered softly squeezing his hand in hers with reassurance that there was no right or wrong answer, so he could reply without any judgement.

“I really dinnae ken … Murtagh may have been able to help me, but I ken that I would probably have resisted his efforts especially before ye came into Section. I was at my darkest place then Sassenach.  I never cared if I lived or died on a mission. I had closed off any part of me that had feelings. I doubt even Murtagh could have lifted me out of my malaise at that time.  I was robotic in my mannerisms, never letting anyone see what was deep within my soul … that is until ye came to lift that darkness from me. It was not until I fell in love with ye that the light within me began to shine through.” 

“I think that was a lost opportunity, Jamie.  Murtagh gives wise guidance.  He sees things that others think are insignificant but he sees them as important.  He has helped me get my mojo back on several occasions with his advice and good humour. Perhaps he may have been able to make life a little more tolerable for you had you been open and ready to take his advice.”

Jamie squelched the thoughts that were struggling to come to the surface. He took a moment before he replied, “I too may have needed his counsel to guide me through the minefield that was Section One, but as I said I neither cared if I lived or died in this place Sassenach.  I was in a bad headspace and had locked myself away from everyone who may have pulled me up by the bootstraps.  In fact, I didnae want to be saved.  I was happy just surviving.”

“Oh, my darling Jamie. I’m sure that Murtagh sees what I see in you and that he loves you as much as I.  You and I have been given a second chance in so many things that today our life is blessed beyond measure.  You are my soulmate, my anam cara my one true love.  I know that your godfather would take great joy in knowing that you are thoroughly loved and have now reached your true potential.  He will be just so proud of you, my love.”

Jamie gazed at her in pure adoration. He cupped her cheek in his palm.  “Claire Elizabeth Beauchamp … ye are the most remarkable woman I have ever kent.  I love ye beyond all reason and thought. You are my heart’s desire.  Ye make my life complete.  You are my happiness. I need nothing else.  We’re…"

"We’re together," Claire spoke, as she finished his words for him.

"Aye Sassenach. Together. Forever." Jamie affirmed wrapping his arms around his love and stroking her cheek with his thumb as he kissed her tenderly on the lips.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

That is how Murtagh Fitzgibbons Fraser found them as he entered Jamie’s office. When no one answered after rapping on the door, Jamie’s godfather took the liberty of letting himself in before closing the door behind him.  Seeing his godson in a loving embrace with his Sugar, Murtagh couldn’t contain the grin that graced his lips. Clearing his throat with a gruff noise, the two people broke from their kiss and both stared at the person who had made that interrupting sound.   What Jamie and Claire found was an extremely happy Murtagh Fitzgibbons grinning like a Cheshire cat at the two of them.

“Now! Now! … We can’t be having any romantic shenanigans taking place in Section.  I believe it is frowned upon by the hierarchy,” he teased at seeing them grin at him as well at his words.

“Fitzgibbons… you old devil … I must inform ye that the new hierarchy deem it to be a necessary communication strategy hence forth.”

Murtagh’s reply was laced with mirth and a deep chuckle, “Well in that case, James Alexander Malcolm Mackenzie Fraser … If you must … Carry on … Don’t stop on my behalf.”

Laughing, Claire broke away from Jamie’s arms and rushed into those of her best friend.  She gave him a huge hug and a kiss on the cheek at seeing him finally here for her Jamie to get the answers he needed.  “Oh Murtagh … I can’t tell you how absolutely wonderful it was to hear that you were Jamie’s godfather.  I could think of no better person to have kept a watchful eye over him … and me … for so long.”

Murtagh looked his godson in the eye and raising a bushy eyebrow stated, “No doubt you have questions Jamie.” With his arm still around Claire’s waist, he reciprocated her hug before continuing, “I will answer as best I can.” 

“Thank ye Murtagh. I guess my only question is … Why the silence?  Why did ye not let me ken ye were my godfather?”

“When you were a week old, I knelt at your mother’s feet and swore an oath to her that I would guard your back when you became a man and needed service.  I promised your Da that I would always keep an eye out for you, but it wasn’t until you came into Section that I was able to fulfil that promise.  Once I knew you were the new recruit, I put my hand up to be your trainer.”

“I thank ye for that. Ye certainly skilled me in all proficiencies Murtagh that would keep me alive on missions despite my laissez-faire attitude to not caring if I lived or died. It was because of yer training that I was able to perform as competently as I did. I guess underneath my indifference, subconsciously I did want to live.  Then once Claire came into Section, I finally had a reason to.”

“Forgive me Jamie … but oh, how I wanted to tell you that I was your godfather on many an occasion, but there were several explanations why I could not. The main reason was that it was because of Madeline and Operations.”

Jamie and Claire sighed swallowing a breath at hearing that once again it was Section’s leaders who were involved in his secrecy.  They both understood exactly where he was coming from, but they let him continue without saying anything.

“Once I found out your connection to Dougal, had he known that I had been entrusted to keep an eye on you from afar, it could have placed immeasurable pressure on him to place me in abeyance. By keeping silent he was none the wiser and I could complete my vow made to your mother and father that I would protect you as best I could.”

“Please continue.”

“Over the years you became the most prolific operative Section had ever known.  You were savvy, a brilliant tactician, extremely competent and skilful in the field and more importantly you were trusted by those you led.  Once you reached your full potential, there was no stopping you.  People looked up to you, they admired your charisma and expertise, as well as your strength of character.  There was an inherent respect, and a strongly felt esteem that everyone had for you amongst your peers.”

“Thank ye, Murtagh.  Both Claire and I ken that we will be relying on those verra people in Section when we take over the leadership.”

“They will all be there for you; I can guarantee that. Operatives knew, and Madeline and Operations certainly knew of your potential but they couldn’t acknowledge it.  To do so would showcase their imperfections and their worry that you had indeed surpassed them in all areas that would make you leader material.  You endangered their position and with Claire by your side you were a formidable team and a huge threat. I could but keep a watchful eye over the two of you without showing my hand.  At that stage you didn’t need a wingman… you had one in your partner.  I could be behind the scenes doing my small part on keeping you and my Sugar safe.”

“We did need you though Murtagh on several occasions over the Rising Dragons’ missions,” Claire added with respect. “You were instrumental in saving us from the monastery as well as your protectiveness of us both when we returned to Section One.”

“And to tell you the truth Claire, I relished the opportunity to do so. But I was so worried about the both of you and I just needed to make sure that you would be rescued.  I volunteered for the retrieval mission like I had done to be your trainer, Jamie. I had to make sure that I was at the forefront to rescue the both of you.  Had you or my Sugar died on that mission I could not have lived with myself knowing that I didn’t do everything in my power to protect you.”

“Murtagh … Yer selfless attitude only reiterates the obvious attachment ye had with us both. I wish I had known, but I am beholden to ye for all ye have done in yer indominable way.  It only proved how much ye did indeed care for my, and my Claire’s welfare.”

“There have been many times that this lovable rogue has been my rock too Jamie.”

“I ken that, Claire, and now we ken why my godfather did what he did.”

“You may think you’re the only one who loves Jamie … but you are not, Claire. He’s a son to me … as you are a daughter. I love you equally.  I would gladly give my life for you both.”

“Thank you for saying that, Murtagh, for you must know that Jamie and I love you as well.”

“There have been so many important occasions, particularly over the Rising Dragons’ missions, Murtagh, when ye had been instrumental in yer unwavering support and assistance.  The retrieval mission was a crucial one. Although I’d been completely cut off from Section One by orders from Operations, there were ways and means around his directive. Ye certainly made sure that Section's leaders didn't find out ye were helping me in any way when I was on my rescue mission to find Claire, and again with the reversing of the Gelman procedure. I particularly relished our time spent together in Macau.”

Murtagh then looked at his godson with a huge smirk on his face.  “Do you remember me saying to look after my Sugar or else I would have to come after you?”

“Aye.  I do.  And ye did … and I am verra grateful ye were on our team.” Jamie replied with a wee smirk of his own.

“Well, it was a privilege fighting and working alongside you James Fraser,” Murtagh replied proudly but unassumingly.

“Aye, indeed. Then there are the innumerable incidental episodes when myself and Claire really needed ye and you always came through for us.  Ye were our one constant in Section … the one who held our secret locations close to yer chest. Ye were the one who was able to contact us when we were not to be found unless completely necessary.  We trusted ye implicitly and that trust was never betrayed.  I ken now why that was so.”

“Murtagh, you big teddy bear,” Claire stated in affection recalling those times Jamie had mentioned. “You are not necessarily the wisest at times due to your escapades in Section behind Madeline and Operations’ backs, but you were certainly the smartest at out manoeuvring them on these occasions.”

“Thank you, Sugar,” he replied with a wink.  

Claire couldn’t help but grin at the man she adored letting him know her thoughts as to what she knew was the reason behind his godfather’s loyalty. “It was love, my Jamie.  Love in Murtagh’s heart for you and me. He did all of these things to be by your side ready to stand with you. We now know why he was so loyal. Love is the constant connection in all of these happenings over time. It is the thread that weaves its way through all of those examples you mentioned.” 

"aye. 'Tis. Sassenach."

“Love forces a person to choose, Jamie. You do things you’d never imagine you could do before. That is why together our love has enabled us to make the most life-altering decision we have ever made. Our love will sustain us in Section and personally, and by being surrounded by those we love, we can achieve anything.”

Jamie couldn’t help but kiss this most adorable woman who had changed him so completely with her love. On the other hand, Claire knew that her man was fortunate to have so many people now in his life with such deep feelings for him.

“Just remember too, my love, despite Murtagh not telling you he was your godfather; he could not have kept a better or closer eye on you if he had told you who he was.”

“Indeed, Sassenach … but now that we do ken …”

Claire once again knew what Jamie was going to reply but she did it for him. “… Your godfather will be by our side as we start this new and challenging role as Section’s new leaders.”  

“Aye … that he will,” Jamie replied happily kissing her once more in abandon.

Murtagh Fitzgibbons Fraser could only grin from ear to ear as he listened to their exchange and witnessed their deep abiding love for one another.  Everything was right in the world for their bond had deepened significantly now Claire and especially his godson understood.  He was more than pleased, he was elated.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~to be continued Friday 30th September

[scarfdyedshadow]

The Unveiling of Ibaraki-Douji’s Character Across FGO (1/2)

I should start with the disclaimer that this isn’t specifically intended to be an analysis of Ibaraki as character, or so to speak an analysis of her narrative arc, character development, and growth over the course of Grand Order. For that, I extremely recommend reading the meta posts of @xenodile​. They are very thoughtful, insightful, and nuanced analyses of her.

This is more or less a consolidation of my thoughts on the reveals made about her character over time, the slow meting out of tidbits about what lies under her surface and what her true basis is. In short, the deciphering of her puzzle. In that regard, this post won’t go into Ibaraki content irrelevant to that, such as the relative low points of her treatment over time.

Ibaraki: “Kuha, kuhahahaha! Woman, woman, woman! Is this the first time you’ve seen something like me? Then engrave it within that body. Cram it in in place of the organs that’ll be devoured by insects after death. Violent like a rampaging beast, terrifying as a god, miserable as an insect! Knowing neither human weakness nor a warriors�� pride, lowly so as to wield one’s rotting arm as a weapon! That is an Oni. One who terrifies humans with all they have, a man-eating demon!”

When we’re first introduced to her in Rashoumon, Ibaraki is an intimidating presence, speaking of the depravity of the oni and how she is the embodiment of it. Right off the bat, there’s something to be said about her being fixated on what an oni is and how she fits the bill, rather than her own individuality.

Ibaraki: “Kuha, kuhahahaha! How nice, how nice!”

Kintoki: “This isn’t nice at all! Your eyes aren’t laughing at all, damn you!”

Ibaraki: “….mu, don’t insult me. I’m not used to laughing. Laughter from the bottom of my heart, huh… I can’t do it like Shuten.”

And only just a bit later, it already becomes clear she’s forcing herself a bit. She’s not used to laughing, to be able to do it fully and genuinely. And again, shortly thereafter, her weakness is called out.

Kintoki: “Can’t you tell? Bah, whatever. Hey General, can you tell her?”

Protagonist: “It’s because you haven’t eaten Shuten.”

Ibaraki: “Y-you human! Don’t say such a cruel thing! Eating Shuten was just a manner of speech! That... like hell I can eat her! I would never injure the Shuten that I respect so much, you fool!”

Kintoki: “See? She’s like that.”

Protagonist: “…a chicken.”

Quite contrary to her initial impression, Ibaraki’s fundamental nature is that of a coward. Certainly she has some capacity for fierceness and fighting, but she doesn’t truly live up to the violent, miserable, and terrifying image she projected at the beginning. And as for why she did that?

IbarakI: [Blushing] “C-can’t help it, this is an Oni’s custom! An Oni must always put on airs! That’s what Mother taught me!”

At this point we learn that the airs she puts on are an ideal she tries to live up to in order to be a proper oni, as taught by her mother. That’s someone that will come up later, but for now we learn from her debut event that Ibaraki feels compelled to hold herself to a particular impression, to appear as a fierce inhuman oni, due to her mother’s teachings.

There’s nothing in particular I want to highlight in her profile and lines, wherein she mostly presents as she does at the beginning of the event, as an imperious and deadly leader of oni. It certainly can be gleaned from her lines though that she puts a particular emphasis on her being an oni as opposed to a human. Throughout her various appearances in this interim period, she continues to insist on being a true and vicious oni while generally in practice being a big dork, though she never truly acknowledges this.

And indeed, throughout all this, her esteemed mother she seems to hold in veneration, perhaps even fear, continues to come up. It’s evident that even if she isn’t physically present, her influence is felt every time Ibaraki pushes herself to be a proper oni, to hold herself to that standard.

And then we get to her mats profile.

Ibaraki isn’t just upholding that image with words and to a mild extent actions, she’s literally pushing her own body to adhere to that particular image. It makes what we’ve known about how she forces herself pale in comparison.

Her personality section, as much as it understates what she went through because this game isn’t the ideal of taking things as seriously as they should be, explicates why she is how she is quite clearly. Her mother of noble birth, devoid of love, literally beat her into the mold of a proper oni. The reason she acts the way she does is because she was forced to every single day act as a proper scion to the oni, assume responsibility as a leader of oni. She was left with no choice but to mutilate her own heart and strive to act as a prideful monster, and she is constantly self-conscious of maintaining that image.

This then would seem to be the final word on how Ibaraki’s character came to be, but there are some additional wrinkles, first alluded to here as well.

Watanabe no Tsuna is a hunter of oni, the man who put an end to her grief stricken rampage and humiliated her by cutting off her arm. It’s only natural that she should hate him and want to kill him. But why then does she feel the conflicting impulse of wanting to talk to him? Why does she feel strong curiosity about him? What is there to be curious about, when he did what any human would do if possible and put a stop to her destructive rampage? Shuten only offers a cryptic answer, and Ibaraki is left with the lingering question.

Dialogue 9 I am an oni from Hell, but from the looks of it, that one's an oni of the present world. I can sense the blood of a high-class god from Shuten Douji, but Ibaraki Douji has a smell similar to mine. ...She must have been a human, originally. (If you have Shuten Douji and Ibaraki Douji)

The sparrow Beni-enma, soon to release in FGO NA, has a line for Ibaraki Douji, and it is a truly absurd place to receive such a major revelation. Ibaraki was not born as an oni, but as a human. It’s a detail that contextualizes why her mother of noble oni stock was so unrelentingly harsh on her, why she was so particular and forceful about making her into a proper oni. Such is doubly necessary to make up for the deficit of having once been human, of being so impure. It contextualizes as well why she didn’t take to that traumatic teaching easily, why she still lapses into a sweets loving coward. Her fundamental nature isn’t quite that of an oni, and that’s why she has to push herself so hard.

But then, how has this not especially come up before? Ibaraki’s basically never alluded to having formerly been a human, something which you would think impossible, even if she has an image she works hard to maintain. Likewise, she seems a certain degree too casual, too unaware, when it comes to what her mother put her through, even if she bears fear and awe.

Of all the places to do it once again, the tail end of Beni-enma’s interlude answers the matter, and once again contextualizes all of Ibaraki as a character prior. She was so thoroughly traumatized, so thoroughly indoctrinated, so thoroughly broken, that she repressed the memories of what she endured. She only remembers it as a distant emotional impression of having to crawl towards an impossible goal, of having to smile even as if she was in agony.

And Shuten maintains that illusion. Ibaraki has always been how she is. She’s never been through anything like that. She’s always been an oni’s oni, the ideal oni everyone wanted, and there’s no need to dwell on anything else.

Ibaraki is able to maintain her current self by burying her trauma deep inside of her, clinging to a reality of a stern but teaching mother that never existed. Of course she’s full of pride. She’s an oni, so she should act like an oni. There’s no need to think about difficult things, or be moved by uncomfortable sentiments.

Of course she doesn’t remember being a human. She had her past torn away from her by what she was forced to become, her memories ripped to shreds by the unsentimental abuse of her so called mother. To acknowledge what came before what she is now would be to undo her entire self.

And Shuten reveals she maintains this lie so that Ibaraki can remain happy. She fears Ibaraki will fall apart if the delusions she clings to are torn away. To simply allow Ibaraki to be carefree and pursue her desires is all she feels she can do.

But why does Tsuna come up? What bearing does he have on Ibaraki’s trauma? He’s nothing more than a sworn enemy that put a stop to her rampage and disgraced her by cutting off her arm. Certainly his presence stirs up some feeling, but it should have no bearing on her past, her pain, what she was and what she forces herself to be. Why does Shuten believe that if Ibaraki were to meet Tsuna, she might break down?

Tale of the Beginning and the End

― And just like that, it was all over. Grisly claw marks, destroyed houses, shattered household belongings. And a single woman nearby, close to the brink of death. I may or may not make it in time. It seems like I was wrong from the start.

I never expected us to come in contact with one another. The last thing I wanted to do was to even look at you. However, as long as you were alive. As long as you were happy. I thought that would be enough. But look, this is the reality.

she's dead / it's your fault she was killed / it's your fault that oni escaped / you must kill her don't avert your gaze / look away i'll carve out those golden locks of hers / you're not done yet decapitate her / kill yourself who should I blame? / no one is to blame

― And just like that, the man ceases his delusional thoughts. Oni are meant to be killed. I will slay her...that's all, nothing else to it. No, think. I have to keep thinking. Even if I die, until I die, even if I become corrupted.

I remember that look in her eyes, like bubbles that floated away and vanished.

Quietly, without a hint of any intense emotion, I stared back at the girl who had fixed her gaze on me. Everyone is a sinner. Oni are sinners, people are sinners, the girl is a sinner, I am a sinner. They are not just sins, but responsibilities as well.

I tightly grasp the hilt of my sword. I have no intention of giving it up to anyone. Having it even be stolen would be absurd. "Slaying that oni, is my duty."

― Tsuna, Tsuna, TSUNAA!

......the oni's claws approach. Something, whatever it is, swells within my trembling heart. I rotate my body, turn my arms, and swing my sword.

The truth of this fight, along with its conclusion, will soon disappear to the passage of time.

No one else can understand, will be able to understand this fight to the death between the two of us.

Watanabe no Tsuna’s profile paints the picture of a man unmoved as he slew countless oni. He is without hatred and without joy. He is akin to a robot.

And yet In his Bond CE this man who is even uncertain he has emotions to begin with, when it comes to Ibaraki, is left questioning everything he is. He is wracked with self loathing, desires even his own death, and condemns himself as a sinner. He berates himself and rages at himself.

He never expected to come into contact with her. The last thing he wanted was to ever see her again. It was enough that she was happy and alive. And yet it had come to this. No one but him can understand the truth of this fight.

The picture is perhaps of having come home to ruination. A doll lays discarded. Why is it that Ibaraki-Douji wishes to talk with a human she has only known as a sworn enemy in a single encounter? Why is that she has such a sheer curiosity about him? Why is it that to meet him again might break down the illusion of what she is? Why is it that the machine of a demon slayer breaks when it comes to encountering her and her alone?

Ibaraki-Douji, despite everything she pushes herself to be, was once human. She had a human family, and a human past. And perhaps that past is not quite as dead as her heart makes it out to be.

[soulmate-game]

Continuation of the story from Day 1, because you guys requested it enough that I started Thinking, lol.

Bio Dad Bruce Wayne Month 2020

Day 3: Siblings

—*—*—*—*—*

Dinner. One day after meeting her father for the first time. She had managed to postpone any sort of… socialization and emotional bonding, during their meeting earlier for everyone to choose from Marinette’s initial sketches for them and generally consult some more, by once again steamrolling everyone with Professionalism and Business Marinette.

But no longer. She couldn’t escape. Staring at a giant wooden, elaborate door like it was her pathway to Prison—

“Stop dramatizing everything in your head, Mari,” Adrien fondly scolded, gently rapping the side of her skull with one knuckle. “I got things to do, for your company I might add, so I can’t stay. But, you’ll be fine,” he leaned in, smirking at her and winking as he lowered his voice. “Besides, you’ve been through way worse than a little family reunion, Bugaboo. You’ve faced down way scarier people than the Waynes. You got this,” he encouraged before giving her a solid clap on the shoulder and a chaste kiss on the cheek, walking back towards their sleek but understated dark red car. Rented, of course, for the business trip, but nonetheless very nice.

Adrien had driver’s licenses for just about every major country. Marinette stopped questioning it a while ago.

She waited until he was gone before throwing her hands up. “Scarier people, he says. Like the Bat clan isn’t known for being some of the most intimidating heroes and vigilantes in the spotlight,” she grumbled. When she turned around, it was to the door already being open, and she jumped a bit in surprise. She hadn’t heard anyone answer the door, but sure enough Alfred Pennyworth stood there holding the door with a small smile, with Bruce Wayne and all of Marinette’s siblings gathered behind him. At least this time, nobody had their spouses or children. Every one of them was smirking, some more sharply than others (Damian).

“Would you like to come in, Miss Dupain-Cheng?” Alfred asked, waving his hand to gesture to the fact that there was plenty of room for her to enter. Blushing, she did just that, taking a breath and forcing herself to actually look at the family she had just met instead of down at her glossy navy blue pumps. Jason, the man with the white fringe in his hair. Second Robin, current Red Hood, her mind supplied, spoke up with a grin and his arms crossed over his chest.

“You don’t look so suave anymore, little Queenie,” he teased. Marinette instantly made a face, screwing up her nose.

“No. That nickname is vetoed. One of my friend’s nicknames is Queenie, and not only will she never let me live it down if she finds out someone called me that, but, just no,” Marinette dramatically shivered. “Most of my friends call me Princess nowadays anyway,” she shrugged. “Adrien started it, and it somehow caught on. It’s too much work to protest at this point.”

“You’re not good with crowds,” the soft spoken woman, Cassandra, decided to add. Marinette winced, shifting on her feet even as she followed the group to the dining room.

“Ehhh. I’ve gotten used to dealing with press and stuff, to a certain degree anyway considering my alias. And wearing my Business persona always helps in consultations. But, I’m not…” Marinette bit the inside of her cheek, clearly a little uncomfortable as she looked around. “The best at… actually talking to people outside of my small group of friends.”

Bruce sighed as most of his kids chuckled or snorted at that. Dick, the oldest but second-shortest of the men besides Tim, came over and draped an arm familiarly over Marinette’s shoulders. He still towered over her though, so he had to slouch a bit to do so.

“Ah, that would be the genetics. Let’s hope you stay where you are at instead of getting as bad at communication as B,” he told her cheerfully. She raised an eyebrow at him.

“What about Damian?”

“He’s even worse!”

“Tt,” said teenager tutted, rolling his eyes as they entered the dining room and he was able to come up to Marinette’s other side. “That was mostly how I was raised before I met Father. I have gotten a lot better than I used to be, Grayson.”

Dick gave him a smile, graciously relieving Marinette of the close contact in favor of rustling Damian’s hair despite the fact that the younger Wayne was taller than him already. “Yes, you sure have! But you still need improvement, baby bird.”

Soon enough, everyone managed to get seated around the large dining table. Bruce insisted that Marinette take one of the seats next to him at the head of the table, across from Damian, since this was her first family dinner. Dick sat next to her, Jason across from him, followed by Tim and Duke on Damian’s side of the table. On the other side of Dick sat Cassandra, and then Stephanie. Alfred served everyone before also taking a seat at the table, on the opposite end from Bruce.

And, true to BatFam tradition, everything was a little awkward for the first minute or two. Marinette didn’t know what to say, and nobody quite knew where to begin. Dick would normally start a conversation, but he was trying to glare into Bruce’s head a silent message of “talk to her, damn it.”

Finally seeming to get it, Bruce cleared his throat and turned to Marinette. “So, I wanted to ask. When do you find out about being my daughter?”

Several people around the table closed their eyes in mourning for Bruce’s social skills. Marinette though, just smiled in slight relief at the decision of how to start talking being taken from her.

“Oh. It was in stages, really. When I was ten, we started our unit in school on genetics. I don’t usually care enough about science to do much more than the school requires, but genetics captivated me for some reason. I researched it almost obsessively at home for a while, almost instantly realizing that there had to be a reason that I had blue eyes when none of the rest of my family did. After a week or two, I found my Maman and Papan’s adoption papers in their room,” she blushed, tugging on one end of her bangs, which she had framing her face since she was wearing her hair down that day. “I uh… I’ve always been a little nosy. I never told them that I found the papers, to me it was just the answer I needed. I didn’t think about it at all after that, and my obsession over genetics went away. It wasn’t until I was thirteen that I decided to look into my birth parents,” Marinette sighed, shoving a bite of food in her mouth to buy her time before continuing. Everyone was focused on her, and it was a little unsettling. Every one of them had a sharper gaze than a normal person, and it made her feel like she was made of glass and everyone else could see right through her. “I was going through a lot, back then. I wanted someone to be mad at, I wanted to be able to blame my DNA for the things that had happened.”

“Things?” Bruce interrupted, back straight and eyebrows drawn down. “What things?” Marinette giggled, tilting her head instead of answering and just letting her eyes study him. Bruce Wayne, Batman, the Dark Knight. Original vigilante of Gotham city, one of the founding members of the Justice League. Famous for his secrecy, intimidating presence, and intelligence. Then she switched her gaze, one by one, to everyone else at the table before leaning back and taking a sip of her soda.

“Do you guys know anything about the situation Paris experienced for four years?” She asked, instead of directly answering. It was Tim who frowned, leaning forward to look at her and reply.

“I heard very vague rumors of weird things, but nothing concrete enough to investigate. What happened?”

Marinette hummed, deciding to sum it up for them. “The short version? When I was thirteen, a classmate of mine spontaneously turned into a giant rock monster and destroyed a good portion of the city. Turns out, that was the first of many attacks by our city’s very own supervillain, Hawkmoth. He had a magical artifact that allowed him to take advantage of anyone’s negative emotions to give them powers and brainwash them into being, essentially, temporary villains that he used for his own means. Two heroes showed up out of nowhere, powered by similar magical artifacts, to combat him and free the people he corrupted. Ladybug and Chat Noir, the original Parisian heroes and the leaders of the team that later had to form.”

Jason frowned, along with everyone else at the table. Finally, it was Duke who asked:

“How did we not know about villains in Paris?” To which Marinette just gave him a dangerously wicked smirk that was far too similar to Damian’s for anyone’s comfort.

“Because I do my job,” she told him flatly, sipping from her cup as everyone stared at her in various amounts of shock. “That’s why finding out that my biological father was Batman made so much sense. That’s why I wanted to find out who my birth parents were. I wanted to blame the heroism on genetics. And, it doesn’t look like I was exactly wrong.”

—*—*—*—*—*

Yeah, that was how her first family dinner and subsequent identity reveal went.

Luckily, considering that Bruce had hired MDC for a pretty long job, Marinette was able to finish school online instead of going back to Paris for it. There was no real need anyway, they had defeated Hawkmoth and gotten Adrien emancipated so for now it was calm in Paris. They didn’t need their heroes anymore, for the time being. This meant that Marinette and Adrien, along with a few employees that helped measure and cut fabric and do secretarial duties they needed help with, got to stay in Gotham while Marinette went back and forth to Wayne manor, Wayne Tower, and back to their temporary home.

After about a month, Marinette was comfortable enough with the Waynes that she found herself lounging in the bat cave as she sketched, though she kept raising her eyes to the glass tubes that held old uniforms. Damian was sat across from her, essentially laying out over two chairs while he played some game upside down on his phone. He might usually be a cold brat, even for a sixteen year old, but even he liked to abuse the way furniture should be used and ignore the world via technology.

But he still caught her constantly wandering gaze.

“You don’t like them.”

“They suck!” Marinette immediately agreed, slamming her sketchbook on the metal briefing table. “Your Robin outfit is the only passable one there is! The colors aren’t even the issue, even high fashion designers can appreciate a good color clash moment. But what was Father thinking?! Putting Grayson in that glorified onesie— why are there no pants?! Jason’s at least as a cape that can cocoon his body and prevent anyone from seeing the disaster beneath. I should thank Tim for at least upgrading the suit to having pants, but he still kept the outside-underwear look that I cannot forgive. The attempt at fashion, though, is appreciated. Disappointing, but appreciated.”

“That pretty much sums them all up,” Damian quipped, getting a snort of amusement out of his sister. Maybe that was one thing he had grown to like about her. She didn’t reprimand him for his sense of humor, and usually she even laughed along. The more morbid humor would get a playful shove and a glare, but no real animosity. And she understood him on a different level, too. One he appreciated even more.

“You said, yesterday, that the Cure brings back everyone who dies during a Miraculous-related incident,” Damian spoke up again after a moment, pointedly not looking at her. “Did you ever count?”

Marinette, this being one of the reasons he was quickly growing fond of her, immediately understood. She sighed, closing her notebook. She might have only been two years his elder, but she had had what felt like a lifetime of more experiences than he did, usually in the friendship and social department though. They were roughly equal in their heroism experience, which was weird to think about, but Damian still valued her input. It was different from the rest of the family.

“It was different in Paris than it would be for anyone else. I didn’t keep track of the number of people who died,” she finally answered, taking her hair out of its work bun and running her hands through the midnight black locks. “But I kept track of how often. Since nobody remembered their deaths, I guess I felt it was my responsibility to remember my failures for them. My former best friend, Alya. Over the course of those four years, she died seventeen times. Her boyfriend, Nino, died fourteen. The Mayor died three times. Chloe, my current friend and former bully, died twenty-two times,” she grimaced at Damian’s shocked expression, nodding grimly. “During those first two, maybe two and a half years, she was one of the primary Akuma targets. She was still either an active bully or in the beginning of trying to change for the better, so she caused a lot of negative emotions everywhere she went. Things got better once she matured a bit, though. Anyway, there’s this girl I used to babysit. Manon. She died five times before she was even ten years old,” Marinette shook her head, that look of age and exhaustion that Damian saw in every Wayne and every hero he had ever fought with seeping into her eyes. “My parents, they died thirty-seven times. They were constantly worried about me, and ran into danger on several occasions trying to find and keep me safe. But I could never tell them who I was. I physically could. I had the power to sit them down and say; Hey, I’m Ladybug. Stop running out and getting yourselves killed. But I never did. I valued my identity first. So I usually ended up seeing, in the middle of a fight, one or both of them squished under falling debris. Or drowned. Frozen solid. Burned alive,” she paused, taking a deep breath to steady herself. “So no. I don’t understand what it was like for you, to count bodies as you felled them. But hell, if it doesn’t feel like I should. Logic doesn’t mean much in the face of emotion, especially guilt. I know I didn’t kill the people I care about, but every single one of their deaths weighs on me like I was the one that caused it.”

Damian nodded, and they shared a few moments of peaceful, contemplative silence as they both ruminated on their less than pleasant memories without fear of being yelled at for what those memories contained.

“But, I do have a secret,” she admitted softly, attracting her brother’s emerald-eyed attention again. The normally cheerful woman was much more subdued even than before, sapphire irises self conscious and vulnerable, which was rare. She licked her lips, even more rare considering her love of her light pink lipstick, and moved off her chair so that she was, instead, sitting on the cold stone floor. Without hesitation, Damian joined her.

“Technically, it didn’t happen. It was a timeline that my friend, the one who I gave the snake Miraculous, essentially erased when he reversed time. But I remember it even though I shouldn’t. How could I forget?”

“You took a life,” Damian whispered, grimacing in empathy. “First time?”

“And the second, and the fifth,” she admitted. “Viperion had to try seven times before I stopped repeating it. But it was always the same person, back during our final battle. I killed Gabriel Agreste seven times. But nobody but me and Luca will ever remember.”

Damian and Marinette both knew it wasn’t the same as Damian’s childhood. They both knew that they would likely never fully understand one another’s trauma. Not the nuances of it. But they did understand the important parts, the broad strokes. Despite their vastly different lives, they understood the big parts that shaped one another.

That was why Damian took to her so quickly. If he had been younger and still bratty, naive, and angry at everything, then it would be a different story entirely. But he was matured, more willing to let himself feel sympathy. And that made the difference.

“You never forget the first person,” he remarked.

“No matter the age or timeline,” she agreed. “I saw how hard it was to stop. How sickeningly addictive it can be, but I hate what it makes me more than I like how it feels.”

“... me too,” Damian whispered. “Me too.”

—*—*—*—*—*

“Wooo!” Marinette cheered as she flew through the air, her hands latching onto Dick’s. There was no audience, but there didn’t need to be. Just the two of them, doing a routine that they’ve been working on during the few chances they had for the past several weeks. Marinette had never done trapeze before Dick helped her learn, but her time swinging through Paris streets helped tremendously alongside her general Gymnastics experience.

Marinette and Dick flipped through the air, swinging from bar to bar, Dick occasionally catching and tossing her again. They soared through the air, both curling through two flips before landing on their respective platforms with matching wide smiles. Marinette, chest heaving a bit since she was slightly out of shape (meaning that she wasn’t at all out of shape, only out of practice when it came to swinging through the air for any length of time. There’s a difference). She met Dick on the floor, who proceeded to ruffle her hair happily.

“That was awesome! Looks like you finally got the routine down,” he praised. She laughed, elbowing him.

“I bet I’m better on the balance beam,” she challenged, making Dick grin widely.

“Oh you are on!”

—*—*—*—*—*

“Ya ever died before?” Jason asked, making Marinette chuckle.

“Two-hundred and eighty-seven times.”

“You started as Ladybug at thirteen, right?”

“Yup. No training or mentor for the first year either.”

“Yeah, then that sounds about right. Wanna go break all the traffic laws?”

“Only if we take your bike.”

“Fuckin’ Duh. What else?”

—*—*—*—*—*

“You stalked Adrien?” Tim asked, smirking that insufferable smirk of his. Marinette groaned, flopping back onto the sofa.

“No! I didn’t mean it that way, anyway. I just took a lot of pictures and spied on him.”

“Yup. You’re Bruce’s kid,” he remarked, tapping away at his laptop. Marinette narrowed her eyes.

“You have noooo place to judge, Mister ‘Dick Grayson is the only person alive who can do four somersaults in the air!’ And ‘Yes, I‘ve known that you are batman since I was eight. Look at all these pictures I took when I— what was your terminology again?”

Tim rolled his eyes, but a grin was peeking through. “Yeah, yeah.”

—*—*—*—*—*

Four months later, and Marinette was staring down at all the garment bags she had painstakingly filled. Outfits for every single one of her new family members. It took a while, but they were ready for the Wayne Gala. Adrien slung am arm over her shoulder.

“You’ve outdone yourself again, Princess,” he praised, grinning at the array of coveted outfits they were about to transport. “But one teensy weeny, tiny little thing.”

“What is it, Chaton?”

Adrien grinned. “Do you have a dress for yourself? Bruce invited you, too, didn’t he?”

Marinette’s face drained of color, right as a knock sounded on the door. Adrien, seeing as Marinette was so far into Panic Mode that she could not be reached at the moment, went to open the door. A second later, plastic was all Marinette could see. Blinking, she raised her head.

It was Cass, holding out a pink garment bag with Marinette’s name on it.

“Thought you would forget,” was all the other woman offered as explanation. Marinette, after gaping for a moment, slowly took the bag from her. Cass smirked. “Present from WE.”

Marinette laughed.

“You guys are the best.”

—*—*—*—*—*

@momothefemur @ladybug-182 @starlightshield @trippingovermyfeet @greatcatblaze @sam-i-am-0222 @bluesimani @ruelukas22 @acoolspacegirl

[egelantier]

Tian Guan Ci Fu

where is it and what is it

it’s a chinese webnovel by mxtx, the same author who did untamed; it exists as a webnovel, finished and kindly translated here, the manhwa, the donghua (animated adaptation) happening right now, and there’s a live action adaptation in plans, directed by the same guy who did untamed. the donghua is gorgeous, the adaptation i’m unsure about but prepared to be hopeful, the manhwa seems to be very pretty. but all the adaptations only cover the very beginning of the novel for now, so i went ahead and read the novel, and i have no regrets. it helps that the translation is very good - not without awkward translatorese, but it has consistent and engaging flow and style, and it’s also pretty good at conveying mxtx’s humor without awkwardness. it reads pretty well.

what’s it about?

the world is split into two parts: mortals and various ghosts and demons and entities share the land, while ‘heaven officials’, aka gods, live in the heavenly kingdom in the sky. pretty much anybody can become a god if they do something really heroic or memorable and/or cultivate (meditation, training, virtuous behavior) really hard. when above, the gods rule their domains and fulfill their believers’ wishes; they work sort of like pratchettian gods, dependent on their followers’ beliefs and getting influenced by them. heavens are strictly hierarchical, with their own economy and pecking order, and the gods aren’t particularly sinless or benevolent; mostly it’s a question of scale.

our hero, xie lian, is a prince of a prosperous kingdom who’s been on a fast track to ascension for most of his very short life; he’s talented, he’s virtuous, he’s kind, he’s strong, and his only peculiar flaw is (somehow naive, but well-meaning) obsession with equality and value of human lives and so on. he becomes a god, unexpectedly, at seventeen, after slaying one especially dangerous god, and rises in heaven at the peak of his faith, influence and happiness.

…and then he finds out about drought and incipient trouble in his own kingdom, and, being a young and righteous god too close to his mortality, eschews heavens and returns to save everybody. it, to put it lightly, does not go well. at all. in fact, it goes catastrophically wrong, and, having lost everything, xie lian ascends again, only to get into a fight with the heavenly emperor, and get banished again, this time for good. he roams the mortal lands for next eight hundred of very lonely, luckless and hard years, technically immortal but not invincible, with his powers and his luck stripped away, and leans to make do, eking out a living as a scrap collector. his temples are desecrated, his name is forgotten, his kingdom is long gone, and - well. so it goes.

so it goes! until one day, to everybody’s great surprise, he ascends once again: a humble, gentle, immune to embarrassment, unflappable man, an embarrassment to heavens, a 'laughingstock of three realms’ who just wants to be left well enough alone. he’s Tired.

instead of rest, he gets sent to investigate a dangerous ghost stealing brides who pass through its mountain, and there, during the course of the interrogation, has his first (he thinks) meeting with a terrifying, old-powerful and vengeful ghost king named hua cheng, who likes to terrorize heavens from time to time. but said ghost king seems to be very benevolent and very interested in helping xie lian, and xie lian is pretty instantly smitten… with knowing what’s the cause of such interest.

…and meanwhile, in the beginning, there'was an unlucky boy, born under the worst stars, whom xie lian saved from falling once, while still mortal, and promptly lost track of. a lot of things happened to this boy, who wanted to be the most devoted worshipper to xie lian the god of the sword and the flower. as one does, you know.

that’s the beginning! from there on: investigations, heavenly secrets, old friends and enemies and acquaintances, thematic parallels, old tragedies, more pining than you can shake a stick at, grand acts of love.

is it good?

it’s very, very good. it’s the first fantasy cnovel i read (aside from the hilarious one about a guy traveling back in his own timeline and becoming a sugar baby to a mafia boss, which was in a very different league), so i don’t know which things are baseline and which things are unique, but it had a very solid foundation: ambitious multilevel, multi-timeline plot coming together in the end both events- and emotions-wise, beautifully iddy main relationship, maybe multifaceted characters who change and grow and clash together in fun ways, a clear and heartfelt understanding of its own core themes.

it’s also, unexpectedly, very funny, in this visual, slapsticky, begs-to-be-adapted way - i found myself laughing out loud over it a lot of times, and it possesses this gift of swerve between understated but earnest emotions and all-out jokes that i associate with… a bit of prattchett and a bit of gintama, honestly. take it as you will.

(oh my god the mecha. i will laugh over this one until i die.)

it also made me cry several times; granted, it’s not like it’s this time, but those were very heartfelt tears.

and the main duo?

first let me say that xie lian was lifted out, wholesale, out of my deepest character preferences. he fell really, really far, and did some bad things, and some very horrible things were done to him, and by the time we meet him he went through everything and achieved this effortless kind of traumatized, humble, accepting, wryly self-deprecating, utterly competent chill that makes a character incredibly appealing to me. he’s kind, and he’s sweet, and he’s gotten any possible embarrassment at least a couple of centuries ago, and he kinda made peace with himself and kinda didn’t. i love him.

and, thankfully for me, hua cheng, the ghost king, loves him a whole damn lot, a ridiculous amount, an epic, over-the-lifetimes, life-shattering amount, and he’s a terrifying presence to everybody else and a shy, protective, sweet dork to xie lian, and every time they’re together on page my entire heart is just. it’s AMAZING. he’s a great combination of playing the obsessive protective yandere stalker-lover trope straight and putting it on its head, by making hua cheng not just revere but respect xie lian, in all his good and bad decisions.

they are just so - good for each other, holy shit. they get each other so well. they’re the best ever power team. i love them.

(the rest of canon is various character reenacting “really? in front of my salad?” meme at them. it’s hysterical, and it’s the best. everybody teams up to tell xie lian that his boyfriend is Problematic way, way before xie lian clues into the fact that he does have a boyfriend, and he’s having none of it. i love it.)

and the themes?

okay, so. roughly half of this novel is ridiculous iddy pining, and a fourth of it is various tropes (off the top of my head: soulbond, sex pollen, body switch, de-age, various shades of identity porn… crossdressing…) played very shamelessly. but it also really benefits from having an overarching set of ethical questions, and while it deals with them a bit shounen-style, it still deals with them, and it makes the whole text fresh, and sweet, and bold.

is it possible to save everybody? should you try to save everybody? if you lack the powers to back your convictions, does it make you complicit? when is it possible to stop the cycle of suffering, what can you do if you want to but can’t? if you tried and people you failed turned on you, whose fault it is, where does the blame stop?

Detailed spoilers begin from here, and i would REALLY advise to stay unspoiled, because the domino reveals are very fun

i loved the various ways the novel sets all those pieces up and then overturns them and then returns to them. xie lian wanted to save everybody and it was arrogant naivete of an untried, untested, privileged young man who never had a real challenge before; his presence made things escalate quicker, and yet everybody around him pretended it was his attempt to make things better that ruined everything, and not a combination of factors outside of his control. and yet he accepts the blame, because it dovetails with his shame at not having enough powers to back his intent up; and yet his triumph over bai wuxian is that he doesn’t, after all, renege on his initial drive to help people.

my most favorite part of this novel is that its turning point, the lynchpin of the whole novel, the moment that keeps xie lian’s soul and safety intact, is not his personal purity and drive; it’s not even hua cheng’s devotion and sacrificial love. it’s just a moment of little, grudging, human kindness from a little, petty, rude man whom the history will sweep away soon. the bamboo hat in the rain. the rest of the plot keeps twisting and turning and coming back to itself, but this? this was unquestionably, beautifully clear, and i loved it. it’s never about the gods, it’s all down to - fallen human is human, ascended human is human, and human is not some state, virtuous or sinful, you get stuck with - it’s a multitude of choices, and there’s never a final one.

and incoherent spoilery screaming for people who read it already

oh my god i had SO MUCH FUN. i’ve been flailing on meme for days, because somebody just finished reading there too, and i’m still bursting with ALL THE FEELS. ruoye origins oh my god! that hat! jin wu’s backstory and ultimate end! e-ming’s praise kink! pei ming’s little shippery 'hoho’! hua cheng’s horribly handwritten stick and poke tattoo of xie lian’s name! the lanteeeeeeeeeeeeerns. feng xin and mu qing on the bridge, making up with each other and with xie lian! hua cheng trying to explain to xie lian that his habit of using himself as bait and pincushion at any given moment is deeply emotionally upsetting to him, and succeeding! banyue’s learning from xie lian to be a truly horrible cook! the entire deal with shi qingxuan and he xuan and the wind fan in the end. THE CAVE. THE GIANT MECHA. aaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaa and aaaaaaaaaaaaa and aaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaa and i am beset, beset by feelings. come scream with me.

[laurent-ofvere]

shadow and bone thoughts

not much to say on the shadow and bone half lmao, no shade i simply didn't really care for it but that half of the show was interesting enough if that whole shtick intrigues you

the rumors are true, the darkling is sexy 

was it meant to be obvious that hes a villain from his opening scene? homeboy has a black cloak lol

I did like genya quite a bit, I have fluctuating feelings over zoya but she's a time 

I dont.... like.... alina........

ONTO THE CROWS

they were included SO MUCH MORE than I thought they would be!! I found their presence integrated rather well into the storyline (which I say hesitantly given that I didn't read the grisha trilogy and dont really know that storyline, but I was generally skeptical about what this meant for the crows and their story) but it felt very organic and authentic to them

jesper!!!! JESPER!!! he did a fantastic job with the portrayal of his character, I LOVED the inclusion of his sexuality and his gambling addiction and his friendship with Inej!! I was hoping for a tiiiiny acknowledgment of his pining for kaz but I didn't really expect it

Inej was amazing! for some reason I wasn't initially taken with her but she really won me over

I loved kaz SO MUCH, I did not expect to have such a visceral reaction every time but I truly got so excited my god. visually hes just how I pictured, the kaz energy was A1 my friends

something was just slightly off for me and I cant quite put my finger on it. it could be my murky memory of the books but I feel like I recall kaz’s intensity being very understated and eerily subtle and thats where the intensity really comes from and something here was just a bit in your face at times, I could be off but also it could just be a way of bringing written words to life which is fair.

overall I dont have a solid issue with kaz, I cant see anyone else doing it now and I love love love that angry cynical dumbass

him and inej 🥺

I really dont think there's any way to truly understand the slow burning intensity of their relationship without reading it. i was nervous they were still gonna take it too fast (I get that there's only so much you can do with limited episodes, especially when its not even technically their show/characters’ story) that being said I think they did a good job, you absolutely dont get the vibe you do from the books but thats really to be expected + they got better as it went imo, they had some great moments and it made me way too fucking soft

that also being said, if there's even one single hint of a kiss between them I will burn the netflix headquarters to the ground 

that scene where she refers to jesper as jes before giving kaz a whole methodical speech about the logistics of a plan, staring at him after expectantly for his expert take only for him to go 😠 ...................................................................................................................... “jes”? 😡 gave me SO much happiness, I ADORE him hes a MESS

listen to me!!!!!!!  I loved nina and mathias!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! I cared about them way way more than I thought I would, I have a massive crush on nina, theyre both super hot, seeing the flashback and buildup we learned of them in soc was amazing and when!!!!! ****** ****!!!!!!! I am!!! going!!!!!!!!!!! TO RIOT

“you broke my trust” SOS

I LOVE THE CROWS SO MUCH

[purpleyin]

DCTV moodboards: Westallen - coffee shop AU

Made for @westallenfamily‘s WA week 2020 and Sunday 30th: Alternative Versions / AUs.

Quote by unknown.

~900 word ficlet to go with the moodboard below. Thanks to @sliceosunshine  for a speedy and very helpful betaing of this. :)

---

Iris has been working at CC Jitters for over three years now, juggling shifts initially around her college degree and now around her MA in Journalism. Serving customers is not her favorite thing to do, but it pays some of her bills, and the owner, HR, is an easy-going boss who treats his employees well. The hefty staff discount doesn't hurt either, and she eats probably too many of her meals at Jitters, considering she also takes advantage of the coffee shop to study when she knows they won't be rushed or short of space.

Barry Allen is one of this year's new hires, and, even after 3 weeks of working there, his inexperience still shows—painfully so. They’ve only occasionally worked a shift together, but she knows he's incredibly slow at making anything, and klutzy to boot—spilling beans, coffee grounds, and water, in equal measure. The rest of them have a running bet on how many cups he’ll break this month, but she knows HR won't consider getting rid of him when Barry is clearly trying his best.

However, it hasn't escaped her notice either that Barry's presence is bringing in new customers; one of the sororities from across the city has been flocking here en masse since he started working at this Jitters. She can understand why, though. She's never seen anyone smile as much as Barry Allen does, and when he flashes that smile your way, it's hard to remain unaffected.

The really interesting thing about Barry is that he doesn't appear to need this job. He wears understated but expensive clothes, carries the latest high-tech contract phone, and can afford a pretty nice car. There are so many little details like that that she’s noticed about him, all showing he’s in a much higher income bracket than your typical barista. Whatever reason he’s working there is a mystery to her, but this job isn't a necessity for him as far as she can tell. Maybe she resents him for that just a bit.

He's often found at Jitters on his days off too, which tend to overlap with her shifts. Usually, he's sat reading books, the topics of which vary wildly. Sometimes it’s technical stuff she doesn't recognize, but other times she's seen him reading psychology and even philosophy. He takes notes constantly, and not just when studying. Everyone assumes the note-taking during his shifts must be him writing down customer orders, or how to improve at the job, but Iris isn’t so sure. Of course it piques her interest but his scribbles are illegible to her.

When she takes over his fourth cup of coffee one day, she feels she has to ask, “What are you doing here, Barry Allen?”

“Um, er, studying?” he says with a blush that might be more adorable than his frequent smiles. But Iris isn't about to get sidetracked here, not when she wants answers.

“Not right now. Here, in general. Working here,” she says, gesturing to the surroundings. “I know you don't need the money, so why do you do it?”

“I...I'm designing an AI - an Artificial Intelligence - for my PhD. But my supervisor said I needed some customer service experience, to actually interact with more humans so I can write it better.”

By the way he says ‘humans,’ rather than ‘people,’ Iris is inclined to agree he might need to get out a little more and socialize with non-nerds. His thesis is certainly outside her area of expertise, but she’s never one to turn down an opportunity to learn, and she finds she’d like to listen to him tell her more.

“An AI? Hmm...interesting. So that's why you're always taking notes. Don't stop there,” she says, taking a seat opposite him since they're not particularly busy and she can afford to take a moment to sate her curiosity.

“I want to help people,“ Barry blurts out. He seems to realize how awkward he sounds, as his blush deepens at that. He still looks like he wants to say more, mouth agape, and yet he’s hesitating to go on. It's as if he's not used to talking about his project with anyone who cares to hear the nitty-gritty.

“You're helping people wake up in the morning, but I have a feeling you've got bigger dreams than aiming for good customer service.”

Iris smiles and manages to tease out a shy smile in return from Barry. He’s not opening up to her as she’d hoped, but she suspects he’s not far off from that. He just needs a little more encouragement.

“How about you tell me more? Like, have you learned anything important while you were grinding coffee?” she asks, following her question with another teasing smile. Her comment gets a small chuckle out of him, and this time he actually replies too.

“Yeah. I mean, my AI is meant to help people, but it needs to be more relatable. Warmer. Reassuring. Kind of like you,” Barry says casually, catching her off-guard. “You have a way with words; you always seem to put people at ease. Well, when you want to.”

It's her turn to blush then, and that brings out a smile from Barry that makes all his previous smiles seem dull in comparison.

[musicollage]

Whitney — Light Upon The Lake. 2016 ; Secretly Canadian.      ~  [ Album Review |   1) Pitchfork  +  2) Loud And Quiet +   3) Consequence of Sound  +  4) Paste Magazine ]

1) Can a duo be a supergroup? Maybe that’s a tongue-in-cheek designation for Whitney, the band composed of former Smith Westerns guitarist Max Kakacek and former Unknown Mortal Orchestra drummer Julien Ehrlich. Both were standout members of their former bands; Kakacek never got his due in Smith Westerns, as singer Cullen Omori’s presence soaked up much of the adulation. Ehlrich, who looked about 11 years old behind the kit with UMO, was a long-limbed beast. Whatever reasons for their previous acts’ dissolution and split, the two have found each other and put together something simple but always invaluable: a great warm weather rock’n’roll record.

It’s hard to talk about Whitney without first talking about Girls, another sweet-and-sour rock duo that both UMO and Smith Westerns spent time on tour opening for. Girls breathed life into earnest folk-rock by writing simple, powerful songs about being in love with life and learning to enjoy the basic things. But they broke up after two albums, and their absence left an empty space that has never been filled. Whitney come closer than any band since.

Light Upon the Lake, their debut LP, is a short collection of short songs; half of them are made up of easygoing guitar flourishes, the other half feature woozy strings and slurred brass. This is the Corona of rock records, as Whitney consistently walk that fine line between identifiable and platitudinal. Take the chorus from most recent single “No Matter Where We Go”: “I can take you out/I wanna drive all around with you with the windows down/And we can run all right.” It’s so generically wistful that it could provoke an eyeroll, but it’s delivered with such gentle earnestness that it’s improbably touching. Light Upon the Lake operates in a universe of endlessly repeatable joy, with a touch of melancholy to keep it interesting. The songs could be about romantic love, but they’re open-ended enough to be whatever you want them to be.

The vocals are a harder sell. Ehrlich, assuming vocal duties here, is on the whinier, Muppet-ier side of things. The overall muffled effect of the recording doesn’t help to crystallize anything, either. It’s like someone’s stopped at a stoplight singing their heart out in their car with the windows up and you hear it from the sidewalk. It works great in terms of expressing earnestness but possibly not in terms of pleasantness. I like it because it feels very true. That said, I wouldn’t hold it against you if you weren’t turned off, at least initially.

Make it past that, though, and you’ll find most songs to be near flawless on a small scale, working the way a great short story does. The crisp edges of these songs betray people who really know how to play their instruments, but instead of flashing that fact, they back up, writing only in vivid, broad, easygoing pop-rock strokes. “Golden Days,” has all the elements of showiness—a guitar solo, extraneous brass, a singalong—but the song stays small and hummable. Low-key perfectionism is perhaps a humbler virtue than seeking the big, dynamic splash. But it has a way of sneaking in past our defenses and lingering longer—before we know, we’ve been singing that song under our breath for the better part of a year.  Whitney might not reinvent anything, but they sound perfect right now, and it’s hard to argue with being in the right place at the right time.

2) The word ‘supergroup’ is a bit of an oxymoron. I mean, Cream were decent but from Slash’s Snakepit to Audioslave it’s a term that conjures up music’s less, let’s say, tasteful moments. Indeed, much as I love ‘The Living Years,’ even I will admit that Mike + The Mechanics’ oeuvre is patchy at best.

Now, however, we have Whitney. A more understated take on the model, they have quietly produced one of the year’s best albums so far. Boasting an embarrassment of indie riches in Julien Ehrlich (an alumnus of both Unknown Mortal Orchestra and Smith Westerns), Max Kakacek (another former Smith Westerner), Ziyad Asrar (Touching Voids), and a sprinkling of production fairy dust from the hands of Jonathan Rado (Foxygen) and Jacob Portrait (UMO), their collective CV is impressive. Like an Arsenal team sheet flapping in the August breeze, they look good on paper. Whitney, however, are more than the sum of their parts.

Taking the folk and country-dappled rock of the likes of Jim Ford and Gram Parsons as their foundations, they have already been labelled as throwbacks. But while ‘Light Upon The Lake’ clearly hankers for another sonic era, this group of twenty-somethings aren’t just nostalgic for the warmth of a bygone sound. No, they have also made it their mission to reprise a wholesomeness of sentiment; a purity of feeling that has long since expired in pop music. The magic is that they manage to do so with earnestness. Their songs never veer into pastiche or stylistic self-consciousness, and never feel like they are constructed merely for the vague purpose of post-irony. And, in any case, who said the past should be allowed to co-opt a sound or an ethos? Contemporary classical composers don’t get slagged because their sound is retro.

A breakup album, its songs are wistful, melancholic sketches of those zoomed-in flashes of relationships that seem somehow to capture the whole; crumpled photo booth prints taken on a scorching summer’s day found at the bottom of a shoebox a couple of Christmases later. ‘Golden Days’, the album’s most immediate hit, for example, is a gorgeous, early Jackson Browne-esque ode to the happier times shared between two humans, written with the magnanimity that only the twin luxuries of time and distance can afford. With a tender George Harrison guitar line that bends and keens, and a rousing coda of trumpets and sing-along ‘na-na-na’ vocals, it’s a brilliantly sunny celebration of the past that strides confidently into the future, whatever it may be.

‘Polly’, meanwhile, is another standout; an affectionate meditation on those quiet moments when you’re visited by the ghost of an old love, just as you thought you were doing alright. Climaxing with a wall of brass, it again manages to be triumphant while casting one fond eye over its shoulder, observing what has been and is no longer. Elsewhere, the title track is a resplendent update on Crosby, Stills, & Nash (another decent supergroup, in fairness), while ‘Dave’s Song’ is a wonderfully bare country number that asks its subject for forgiveness amid wailing guitars and plaintive horns. But I could list every track and rhyme off a whole catalogue of touchstones so let me keep this simple: ‘Light Upon The Lake’ is a beautiful thing. Its melodies are beautiful and its honesty of emotion is beautiful. Make it a part of your life.

3) Bands are born, they live, they make records, they play shows, they break up, they die. Some reunite (most reunite), some don’t. That’s pretty much how it goes. In December, 2014 one band, Smith Westerns out of Chicago, Illinois, met its final end. Front man Cullen Omori went one way, signing a deal with Sub Pop and cutting a solo album, while guitarist Max Kakacek and drummer Julien Ehrlich went another. The latter pair went out and found a whole new group of musicians to play, write, and record with. They named themselves Whitney and quickly found a home on Secretly Canadian. Their debut album, Light Upon the Lake, is as majestic and as ethereal as its title implies.

To make their grand introduction to the world, Whitney chose to lead off with the song “No Woman” — it’s the first track on this album, and the first single that the band released to the masses. They made the right choice. “No Woman” a gorgeous, emotionally evocative tune. Opening with a tender, electric piano that’s punched up with a brusque trumpet part, the song quickly falls into a sparse, acoustic guitar-driven ballad. Ehrlich’s falsetto sounds severely wounded and perplexed as he weaves his tale about leaving on a train to spend some time out in the wide open. For those aware of Whitney’s backstory, it’s hard not to listen to “No Woman” without relating its theme of checking out for a bit to put the past behind you to Kakacek and Ehrilch’s own recent travails in the music industry. “I’ve been going through a change/ I might never be sure,” Ehrlich croons. Of course, it could just as easily be a broken relationship that spurred him on his journey, or fleeing a shit job. Regardless of its impetus, “No Woman” is touching for all the reasons that a song about driving by a bay at midnight can be touching. The imagery, combined with the softened, ‘70s California singer-songwriter vibe is instantly disarming and overwhelming.

The mood takes a lighter turn on “The Falls”, jaunty pop piece featuring a delightfully twangy guitar solo. But the reflective mood can’t be held at bay for too long, returning on “Golden Days”. That said, the vibe of this song is decidedly more upbeat than “No Woman” — think Gram Parson’s brand of country mixed with Stax-like orchestration — but the subject matter is all the same, if the end desire isn’t flipped. Instead of wanting to check out, Ehrlich now laments a relationship gone wrong. It’s a “shame that we can’t get it together now,” he offers, “searching for those golden days.”

Whether he wants to get away or to get everything back together, Ehrlich does an excellent job of wanting throughout the record. Light Upon the Lake inspires self-reflection — no, it insists upon it. Songs like “Dave’s Song” (a melancholic mood-piece defined by a quickly delivered pentatonic digression over a very present and thumping bass line) don’t actually focus on the characters sketched within. Through evocatively delivered lines like “It’s hard to give up, when I don’t wanna be saved” ringing in your ears, you’ll think about your own behavior and the way it may have affected the characters that inhabit your own world. Everything is framed in such relatable terms that the urge to superimpose your own life story onto Whitney’s skeleton is palpable. Their dulcet, vintage tones intoxicate and overwhelm the senses, while the cutting lyrics set the table for a thoroughly emotional listening experience.

4) When Whitney released “No Woman”—the first of two singles off of their debut album Light Upon the Lake—it seemed too good to be their first release. The track was just the right meld of expertly noodly guitar leads, faint falsettos, lullaby piano and bombastic horns. In reality, it’s not truly the band’s first effort.

Max Kakacek and Julien Ehrlich, Whitney’s songwriting duo, have been preparing to release this debut album since shortly after their last band, the Smith Westerns, split in 2014.

The Smith Westerns were kind of the princes of underground-esque indie rock, carrying the mantle of the slurry, dream pop sound made popular in the early 2010s with bands like Beach Fossils and Washed Out. When they broke up, members splintered into two different projects: lead singer Cullen Omori’s solo work, which sounds decidedly more inline with the band’s old stuff, and Whitney. To forge this band, Julien adopted the role of singer and co-songwriter. This was a new role for Julien, who had also previously spent time as drummer for Unknown Mortal Orchestra, but he assumed it confidently.

When writing songs together, Max and Julien developed a persona: Whitney is a lonely guy who drinks too much and lives alone. It was probably a pretty easy idea to embody. Both Max and Julien are quick to admit that the songs for Light Upon the Lake were written in the midst of consecutive breakups. They felt a little bit like Whitney, so they built Light Upon the Lake as a bit of a concept album.

There are some songs, such as the title track, that play as more of a bridge between others. “Light Upon the Lake” is a tranquil pause between the high-energy of wiggly guitar jam “Dave’s Song” and “No Matter Where We Go,” one where the instrumentation really picks up to high-speed, in relation to the rest of the bluesier, reflective piece. In it, Julien’s tape-recorded vocals lay over a thumby bass line as he sings, slightly unconcerned about how much things can change right in front of your eyes—and wonders if he can keep up.

The album echoes like someone on the verge of being over it. “I know how to keep you hung up but I won’t do it again / All I know I wish you were my friend,” sings Julien in “Dave’s Song,” a clear indication that there’s a light at the end of whatever tunnel he’s been trudging through. Then, there are parts, like the jazz-infused horns and hoppy bass line in “On My Own” that make it too bright to be a sad song, despite lyrics like “I can’t sleep alone when you’re on my mind.” The weird thing about labeling this record as a breakup album is that it’s both accurate and—paradoxically—widely off-base.It’s not angsty, or hastily prepared in a few drunken nights off of some fit of red-eyed nostalgia. Sure, literally speaking all of the songs off of Light Upon the Lake conjure up failure to maintain a relationship with a loved one, but how can you relate a new band’s debut record—and one that’s so so fully realized to the point of even having a mission statement in the Whitney, as a man, as a writing prompt and concept—with a break up? If anything, it’s the start of something new.

As listeners, we weren’t there to see Max and Julien parsing through once-shared record collections with their exes. We didn’t see tears. We don’t even know names or faces. Sure, we can relate to the feelings behind the lyrics on songs like “No Woman” and “Golden Days,” because everyone everywhere has been there. We can understand the sparkling hope in the music behind these lyrics, too, because once the dust clears, there is joy in knowing you came out on the other end of heartbreak. But it’s not a breakup album, because we’re just meeting Whitney, and we like them too fucking much to end it.

[i-write-and-therefore-i-am]

One Monstrous Miracle (Part Five)

Okay. So. This one got away from me. It got unexpectedly dark, and I’m not sure how I feel about that but I’m going to post it and move on with the story. I am not a happy author about this chapter, for many reasons. Nevertheless, I love each and everyone of you and I hope you find it within you to enjoy this <3 (Pst! If you’d rather read on Ao3, here ya go!)

Previous-Next-First

Pairing: Aziraphale/Human!Reader

Summary: Michael takes some initiative. So does Sandalphon. Uriel is basically the emotional support nerd ig. Aziraphale has a nightmare. Reader does NOT have a good time.

Warnings: Okay listen closely. I have written a non-graphic description of a kidnapping, and subsequently a heavily-implied violence segment. I might be overstating or understating (please tell me if I am understating!), but I just want to keep you lovelies safe. 

ALSO: This is NOT a warning, but while you’re here I might as well tell you that I have used they/them pronouns for Michael, and it/its pronouns for Sandalphon (from the script).

Word Count: 2730

(@gif, shits going down)

Michael was not stupid. They were not dimwitted, or blinded by heavenly goodness, or any of the things that they could very easily accuse their fellow celestial beings of…being. They had been paying the Angel Aziraphale very close attention these past millennia, and they had seen exactly what they had expected; the Angel had gone native. Worse than that, he had gone native and he was fraternizing with the enemy. THE enemy. El Numero Uno. The Demon Crowley.

Because Michael was none of the things mentioned above, they had quite a bit of room to be some other things, like cunning, vigilant, and good at waiting for just the right moment. They didn’t bring the aforementioned knowledge to Gabriel’s attention straight away for the sake of…strategy. It had nothing whatsoever to do with the fact that the Archangel-Fucking-Gabriel wasn’t the only gosh darned Archangel around (and that’s with a capital ‘A’, thank you very much), and so there really was no pressing need for Michael to give the information in the first place, now that they thought about it. They could investigate on their own, build up a solid case, and then work from there. Maybe get some respect around the elitist promotion trap that was their Heavenly home. If only.

Michael enlisted Uriel, knowing that she would be invaluable when looking for documents or anything paper related. She had the memory for things exactly like that. Michael brought Sandalphon precisely because they knew that Aziraphale was still terrified of it after what happened at Sodom and Gomorrah. Together, they monitored Aziraphale’s every move—although the angel had somehow devised a way to keep the group from ever being able to overhear any of his traitorous conversations with the hated Crowley, they weren’t deterred in the slightest bit. They could follow the pair, take pictures, perhaps the odd selfie when the mood hit. Michael was building their case against Aziraphale, and it was only a matter of time.

Armageddon threw everything into quite a pretty mess, now didn’t it? Aziraphale was openly discussing his meetings with his “wily adversary”, reporting on the current status and whereabouts of the Antichrist (Warlock. What a revolting name). Things were starting to get fun for the first time in about a hundred years, and Michael simply didn’t have the time for their surveillance missions anymore. Not to mention that Gabriel was demanding that they all stay together as often as possible, which was a nightmare in and of itself. Michael was rather looking forward to the end of the world, not for the gargantuan blood bath that would ensue, as most of their angelic associates where no doubt panting for, but for the endless peace that comes after a job well done.

One day, when the Antichrist (still Warlock, despite Michael’s very best efforts) was 10, nearly 11, Michael noticed something very strange about the familiar bookshop that they and the rest of the group had been watching for the last couple of centuries. There was a woman, well-dressed (Michael assumed. Angels, proper Angels, that is, Aziraphale not included, have no real sense of human fashion), practically cantering down the pavement, apparently towards Aziraphale’s shop. “No, that can’t be right,” Michael thought to themselves. Although, thinking back, that woman did look strikingly familiar. So familiar, in fact, that—

“Uriel! Take a look at this.” Michael had rolled her rolly chair away from her workstation and towards the cubicle to the right of hers. Uriel popped her head around the weird, cloth divider separating their “offices” with a curious expression.

“Yes, Michael? What is it?” The other angel asked from her rolly chair. Michael gestured that she should roll her rolly chair into Michael’s cubicle.

“I’ve found something strange in the Eden files, take a look at it.” The Eden files was their special code name for anything pertaining to Aziraphale that was not, strictly, on the books. This strange something happened to be a livestream of the street where Aziraphale lived. The woman was getting closer to the shop, although not quite close enough to tell if that was, indeed, where she was going. Michael pointed the woman out to Uriel.

“Now. She looks awfully familiar to me.” Michael’s gaze drifted from their finger to Uriel sitting beside them. Uriel had her thinking face on, which could mean one of a million different things and by this point in their long, coworker relationship, Michael had learned to just let her think. Uriel frowned slightly, moved closer to the screen, tapped a single key on the keyboard in front of them on Michael’s desk, and rewound the feed. She paused it. Zoomed in. Michael wondered why it was so difficult for the Management to install some touchscreens on the ground floor, at least for the Archangels and Possibly a few of the Principalities. They’d seen inside of Gabriel’s office (Yes! A whole, bloody corner office with glass windows instead of walls so that he can survey the worker bees in their nest and not one but TWO whole touchscreens!), after all. Uriel snapped her fingers in front of Michael’s face.

“Michael? Were you listening?” Michael, as you know, had not been listening. At all.

“Of course, Uriel. What was that last bit, again?” Uriel sighed and pointed at the woman zeroed in on.

“She visits the shop almost every day. She might be important.” Michael leaned forward in their rolly chair, squinting at the grainy image despite the fact that every angel had perfect 100/100 eyesight. They hummed.

“Yes. I quite agree. Sandalphon?” They called out the name of the coworker whose cubicle stood on the left side of theirs. They heard the familiar sound of the rolly chair growing nearer until Sandalphon sat beside the two other angels. Michael pointed to the woman on the screen.

“Let’s keep an eye on her.” They all watched as Uriel unpaused and the woman entered the shop.

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They did not have to wait long for the woman to make another move. Only a few hours later, she was hurrying out of the doors, clutching onto her purse and…crying?

“He doesn’t hold on to them long, does he?” Sandalphon remarked, rubbing its forefinger across its teeth diamonds. Uriel giggled but sobered when Michael glared at her. This was not the time for making jokes. That woman was certainly a human woman, there was no doubt about that. Why was she spending so much time around Aziraphale? Why had she run sobbing from his shop? Was this like that holiday Aziraphale took with Alexander the Great? Michael very dearly hoped not—Aziraphale had positively ruined that poor boy.

“Keep your focus on that woman. We need to learn more about her.”

The kept the feed trained on her as she made her way home. She didn’t live too far from Aziraphale’s shop. But just far enough that walking was just slightly out of her way. Uriel, the more softhearted of the bunch of angels huddled around the screen, wondered whether they should miracle her a taxicab, but she was quickly shut down.

“What, and give ourselves away? Gabriel would have our halos!” Michael exclaimed, shifting in their chair. Once the woman was in the door, Michael cut the feed, gaining the attention of the others. They cleared their throat.

“Ahem. So. Not only has Aziraphale been seen consistently in the presence of known Demon Crowley, but he also appears to have developed some sort of relationship with a…mortal woman. Once again, Aziraphale proves that he does not have the strength required to walk among them. Instead, he cavorts with them, befriends them—”

“Runs a bookshop,” Sandalphon growled helpfully. Michael nodded appreciatively.

“—and runs a bookshop. Clearly, he is no longer fit for his position.”

“That’s all well and good, Michael, but he can’t be removed from said position. Only the Almighty can deal with that level of personnel change.” Uriel reminded them calmly. Michael sighed deeply.

“I know that. We all know that. The only problem is something must be done about it. Aziraphale can no longer be allowed to continue this way. It’s heinous.” All the angels nodded their head in mutual agreement. They all tried to think of something they could do, but nothing seemed to jump out at anyone. It stayed like this for a few long moments before suddenly, Sandalphon gasped loudly, startling the other two.

“I know!” it said. “The girl. She’s important to him, right?” Uriel scoffed.

“She did just run from his shop in tears, Sandalphon, did you miss that part?” It was unfazed by Uriel’s goading.

“Exactly. It’s Aziraphale! He’s so soft, he’ll go groveling for her forgiveness within a fortnight. And when he does…”

“They’ll make up with each other. Where are you going with this?” Michael interjected impatiently, not in the mood for idle chatter. Sandalphon grinned, its teeth glinting in the Holy light.

“We kidnap her. Get us in Gabriel’s good books, get some information, and, of course, to scare powe ickle bitty Aziwaphawe. Perfect plan.”

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It was not, as it happens, the Perfect Plan. However, credit is due where credit is due, and that credit goes to Sandalphon for thinking of a Nearly-Perfect Plan. It would have been the Perfect Plan had Aziraphale and that blasted woman not been so stubborn and stayed apart for so long. The days until the Antichrist’s birthday were slowly running out, and the time during which the angels could execute said plan was drawing thin. Thankfully, the two made up just in the nick of time, so it had worked out in the end.

The trio had made the trip to Crowley’s flat, knowing that they would find Aziraphale there. Aziraphale had been flustered, but his story about checking about in the demon’s abode appeared to check out. Michael refused to take their eyes off of him the entire time. After they miracled away, they appeared in an alleyway not far from the woman’s home, and on her usual route. Michael had decided, because Michael was a little bit of an ass at times, to make the mystery just a smudge more difficult by abducting the woman outside of the home BUT simultaneously leaving a single, white wing feather on the floor of her locked flat. It really was quite devious for such a pure-hearted creature. Hmm.

The kidnapping went swimmingly. Uriel snuck up behind the woman, Sandalphon had thrown the bag over her head, and once everything was settled (or as settled as can be with a kicking and struggling woman in tow), Michael miracle them into a top-secret location. I’m afraid that I, as the author, am not at liberty to disclose the location of the following events, because of course I’d have to kill you afterwards, and I’d rather not do that.

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Angels do not have dreams. Angels cause dreams in other people, they take away dreams from other people, and they may, upon occasion, serve as conduits for messages from the Almighty, which often appear to other people as dreams. But Angels themselves do not dream. Except for Aziraphale, evidently, whose subconscious had decided to do away with the natural order of things to just…you know…spice it up a little. Aziraphale frowned deeply in his sleep and rolled over, sniffling.

He was in a corridor. There were no lights, only a faint glow that seemed to come from nowhere at all. There was one door, ahead of him, but the rest of the corridor was bare, empty grey concrete. He began to move towards the door, but the corridor seemed to get longer the closer he got, until he was nearly running, trying to make some progress down the hall but never moving one inch.

The scene changed, the corridor erupting into grey and black smoke that smelt faintly of saltwater taffy. The scene reconstructed itself as a square room lit with an old-fashioned lightbulb swinging slowly back and forth from the ceiling. There was a figure shivering on a metal chair in the center of the room, hands tied behind their back and a sack over their head. Aziraphale heard whimpering from the figure and made to rush over to help them but he found that his feet were rooted to the ground, as though someone had glued them straight to the floor. Aziraphale looked up from his shoes and gasped.

Surrounding the figure were Michael, Uriel, and Sandalphon. Michael stood directly in front of the figure, bending over slightly. Sandalphon stood directly behind the figure, fingers grasping at the sack. Uriel stood apart from them both, in the corner opposite to Aziraphale. Michael made a motion at Sandalphon and it yanked the sack off of the person’s head to reveal—

Y/N. Eyes red from crying, hair a mess, makeup smudged and beyond repair. Aziraphale felt his heart stop beating. What the hell was going on? Was this some kind of joke? A voice, nagging at the edge of his consciousness told him that no, it was not a joke. Aziraphale struggled against whatever was holding his feet down with renewed vigor. He stopped when he heard your voice, hoarse and trembling. It broke him to hear you like that.

“W-who are you? What do you w-want from me?” You coughed, and Aziraphale felt a miracle dance along the tip of his fingers. He would make you well again, he would heal whatever has happened to you. You continued. “I have m-money if that’s it! It’s n-not m-m-much but—”

“Silly girl, we don’t want your money.” Came Sandalphon’s voice.

“Mmm, that’s right.” Michael responded. They leaned in closer to you, and you sank deeper into the chair to escape them. “What we want is information.”

“Wh-What? What information? I don’t- “

“What do you know of the Angel Aziraphale?” Azriaphale’s blood went cold. He had been so close to telling you himself! After all of the Armageddon mess was straightened out, he had promised himself, he would march right up to you and tell you the truth. But not now! Not when he couldn’t be there to explain, when you were hurting, being hurt, tied up like some criminal. A noise horribly like a snarl erupted from Aziraphale’s throat, startling him. Was he truly invisible in this room? After a couple of seconds of pure terror, Aziraphale’s pulse began to slow and he realized that this was most likely a vision dream, a message from someone showing him something that was either already happening, or about to happen. He prayed to anyone who would listen that it was neither of those two options.

“I swear I don’t know!” The sound of your terrified voice brought him back. Sandalphon laughed its ugly laugh and Michael chuckled.

“Should we really be doing this, Michael?” Uriel inquired softly from her spot in the corner. Aziraphale was sure he was just projecting his terror onto her, but he thought he could almost see a hint of concern in her deep black eyes. Michael just shook their head.

“It’s not as though she’ll have very long to remember it, will she?” At this, your body seized in horror, eyes open wide in shock. Fresh tears were streaming down your cheeks. Aziraphale wanted to burn this room to the ground.

“Are…are you going to kill me?” you whispered through your crying. Aziraphale held his breath to listen for the answer:

“Oh, dear me, of course not. Do you know how much paperwork that would be? Oh no. Definitely not killing you. As long as you give us the information we need.” Came Michael’s reply.

Aziraphale felt that old rage bubble up inside him, and his sword hand itched, as though the missing sword were a missing limb instead. He took a deep breath and clenched his hands into fists. He would not debase himself in such an appalling manner. He had grown since those days, and he would not be brought to his knees by a dream.

“I told you, I don’t know anything!” you pleaded desperately. The room was beginning to fade away, smoke swirling at the edges, illuminated by the swinging bulb. Aziraphale cried out, reaching out for you only to be met with empty air.

“Oh, we’ll see about that, now, won’t we?”

The last thing Aziraphale heard before waking was the sound of Michael’s laughter.

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[seasaltmemories]

haru, ann, makoto, yusuke, and ryuji?

All are under the Cut:

Haru

How I feel about this character:

I like her! While I do agree that the fact she is recruited right when things kick into gear is kinda frustrating, I think she has a lot of great little moments that are overlooked, she is charming and cute

All the people I ship romantically with this character:

I am up for anything, but nothing stuck out in the game itself

My non-romantic OTP for this character:

Her friendship with Morgana and the entire Beauty Thief stuff is great

My unpopular opinion about this character:

I’m actually glad that her recruitment was nonstandard, it shook up the usual ‘oh person who is not supposed to be there wander in the Metaverse and turns out there is a persona user” while it doesn’t last for long, there are questions of if she could be Black Mask, and in general it makes it feel like the world doesn’t just revolve around what Joker sees on screen, the fact she is closer to other ppl than Joker (at least at first) is interesting

One thing I wish would happen / had happened with this character in canon:

A conversation with Akechi about the whole father murder thing would be great, I know she is a pretty private person, and if it happened it would likely be without Joker, but the fact she still tries to be polite to him while being upfront about not forgiving him is an interesting dynamic

my OTP:

None

my cross over ship:

Um how about she and Rinea from FE Echoes hook up?

a headcanon fact:

She definitely becomes an old rich cat lady living her best life, partner or no

Ann

How I feel about this character:

I love her! I think her presence after her arc is understated but a great part of the team, I just think she is a fun character I like to watch

All the people I ship romantically with this character:

Shiho, I might also be down for a quick, low stakes hook-up with Yusuke

My non-romantic OTP for this character:

Her and Joker’s confidant is really nice

My unpopular opinion about this character:

I like her confidant, like yeah the model stuff isn’t the deepest but it only gets brought up a few times and we still have the rest of it being her kinda having to deal with the guilt of not being there for a friend even though things were kinda out of her control

One thing I wish would happen / had happened with this character in canon:

I guess I wish her relationship with her body and sexuality was made a little more clear, the writing around that is an example of the game both wanting to appeal to fantasies and real life issues, from what i gathered she was fine with being sexy when she was the one who chose to do it, so it would have been nice if more of the fan-service stuff had her kinda initiating stuff

my OTP:

Her and Shiho

my cross over ship:

I could see her and Hilda von Goneril being fun

a headcanon fact:

I don’t think she continues staying a model for long, and over time kinda takes an unofficial mother figure role of looking out for newbies to make sure they aren’t being exploiting and using her influence to get creeps from getting more jobs

Makoto

How I feel about this character:

A fave, I think the game does a great job of balancing out her unlikable moments with being able to understand where she is coming from, and that tension in general made me like her all the more once I started coming around to her

All the people I ship romantically with this character:

Joker

My non-romantic OTP for this character:

Her and Sae were a great pair of sisters

My unpopular opinion about this character:

Again I also really liked her confidant, like Ann I think the Eiko stuff was very minor in the long run, and considering her strong sense of justice it made sense for hers to take place through an active investigation of sorts rather than her having a pity party for herself and spilling her past

One thing I wish would happen / had happened with this character in canon:

My bias might be showing again but I am curious about her relationship with Akechi, I doubt they were close but it feels realistic that she would know he was basically Sae’s intern, and while I doubt they interacted much one on one outside that one scene where he calls her nothing but a goody two shoes, I wouldn’t mind exploring it more

my OTP:

Joker

my cross over ship:

Hmm her and Utena Tenjou would be a great mix of “high intellect low wisdom” and beating up gross dudes

a headcanon fact:

I think she never loses her rebellious streak and ends up in like advocacy work against government corruption

Yusuke

How I feel about this character:

He’s nice, I do like his interesting relationship with Madarame, and think it has some of the most nuance in the game

All the people I ship romantically with this character:

Nothing really serious besides like I said that low-stakes hook-up with Ann

My non-romantic OTP for this character:

As I mentioned while not a good relationship, I still think his connection with Madarame is his most interesting

My unpopular opinion about this character:

Maybe my own sheltered weirdo art kid is showing, but he really isn’t as out-there as ppl claim, I was expecting a hammy off the walls character from what fandom showed, but if anything his is really quiet, withdrawn and again most of his eccentricities is just him having been really sheltered his whole life and having to adjust to living on his own, like in the grand scheme of things, buying lobsters just to draw them is something I could see ppl in my life doing and maybe joking about for two or three days before being completely forgotten

One thing I wish would happen / had happened with this character in canon:

I think he is the phantom thief that fades into the background the most, and I wish he had a bit more relevancy for the rest of the game, which is harder to do bc he isn’t the most social or touchy-feely outside of art, I wish I got a great sense of camaraderie at least from his reasons for sticking around besides “friends” feels very weak

my OTP:

Not really any

my cross over ship:

I could see something between him and Namine being sweet

a headcanon fact:

I don’t know the exact flavor, but I think he is misdiagnosed  neurodivergant and likely never really figures it out except maybe by the time he is middle age and has a stable life bc he and others around him write off the symptoms as the result of his weird upbringing and artsy nature

Ryuji

How I feel about this character:

He’s a character I don’t I could stand if he was real, but the game writing and framing does make me like him and his friendship with Joker comes off as very genuine

All the people I ship romantically with this character:

I am up for anything, but nothing stuck out in the game itself

My non-romantic OTP for this character:

Again him and Joker

My unpopular opinion about this character:

Lol I feel like I pissed off a lot of ppl by saying I couldn’t stand him if he was real, but really he is like the eptimone of teenage rage, like he has good reasons to be angry but he doesn’t really know how to cope with it in the right ways, like no offense but walking up to somebody and just asking “hey are you being abused” isn’t all that helpful to a victim and other little things that in a less power-fantasy narrative could go really wrong, I don’t think presenting those flaws is bad, and I don’t think he is a bad character, but as someone who has also had to carefully manage my anger, it hits me in a very “remembers bad memory and cringes way”

One thing I wish would happen / had happened with this character in canon:

Look I know teenagers can be horny and I am not against ever showing that, but i guess as a grown woman I could have done without all the “lets score some babes” talk

my OTP:

None

my cross over ship:

Doug from Rune Factory 4 could probably vibe with him but i think they’d both cool each other down

a headcanon fact:

Probably also when he is older, things are stable, and he finds a therapist he doesn’t feel patronized by, he does end up finding the experience meaningful

[babywarg]

DrPepperony Prompt: Pepper's dress gets ripped and Stephen replaces the now indecent clothing with the Cloak turning itself into a beautiful gown. She and Tony are very grateful.

Hello! This one is short, but I hope you like it 💕

My imagination is limited, so I’m visualizing Stephen’s formal getup as being the same as the one he wore at the start of the Doctor Strange (2016) movie, plus a black cape with a colorful (red) trim in this cut.

For Pepper’s new dress, I’m imagining a cut similar to Miss Universe 2018’s evening gown. I know zip about fashion, so feel free to use your own clothing hc for this :D

[10/13/2019: NOT ACCEPTING NEW PROMPTS AT THE MOMENT. Thank you for understanding 💕]     

***

“I need your help.”

These were the first words she spoke to him all that night, after urgently calling him over. And they were spoken in a dim corner of the ballroom, away from prying eyes.

She was facing him, but her torso was twisted away from him at a defensive angle. Her arms were crossed over her chest, fingers gripping her lightly muscular upper arms.

She seemed cold. Was that why she had called him over?

“Is there a problem, Ms. Potts?” Stephen asked.

As soon as her name left his lips, the awkwardness of the whole situation hit him.

They were standing close together in a shadowed corner.

He was the man Tony happened to be seeing.

She was the woman Tony happened to be in a relationship with.

“The two of you should meet,” Tony once said out of his ass. “Get to know each other better. I promise you, she’s not as intimidating as I probably make her sound.”

Taking his impulsive boyfriend’s word for it, Stephen agreed to attend a ball to which he was invited - a ball that Pepper Potts had organized.

He had dressed his best: a black tuxedo and a bowtie, and a flashy black-and-red cape.

(- which was really the Cloak of Levitation insisting that it come with him to the party. And Stephen had to admit: the shape it chose made for a handsome accent.)

But Pepper Potts did not seem to notice the effort he put into his wardrobe. They met, she nodded to acknowledge his presence - then she turned to Tony to excuse herself, because she was very busy and had to attend to all the other guests, and left.

Stephen imagined this meant Ms. Potts was determined to ignore him all that evening.

At least, until now.

“Do you, uhm,” Ms. Potts sheepishly began, “think you could…maybe lend me your cape for a bit?”

“Of course!” Stephen was already removing the Cloak.

As she let go of herself to reach for the Cloak, Stephen saw what was wrong:

There was a huge tear in the front of her blue dress.

She was basically keeping the fabric together by keeping her arms around herself.

“This is embarrassing,” she said, as she held the Cloak up against the tear. “I bumped into one of the wait staff, and he was carrying this silly unicorn sculpture. The one Tony insisted we have at every formal event. The horn snagged on my dress.”

“Are you injured?” Stephen asked on impulse.

“No,” she answered. A quick look over the flawless skin on her chest and shoulders confirmed it.

She put the Cloak on, and breathed a sigh of relief. “Thank you,” she said to Stephen. “I brought a jacket, but I left it in the car. I guess I’m going to have to go all the way over there to get it now.”

“You don’t have to,” Stephen informed her. “We can fix this.”

She stared up at him, curious. “How?” she asked.

Stephen just now noticed how the blue of her dress set off the blue of her eyes.

He threw his glance over to the Cloak, which raised a corner of its cloth in what looked like a salute.

Then a touch of magic pulled Ms. Potts a few inches off the floor, spun her around.

“Oh!” she managed to exclaim.

She only had to be spun once.

When the glamour was in place, and she had regained her footing, the torn dress and the cape she had been wearing was gone.

Both had been replaced by a form-fitting red gown, shimmering in the low light.

And, because the spell he’d used was feeling extra dramatic, she also wore red dangling earrings and scarlet stiletto heels.

Ms. Potts gasped in surprise.

“Oh my God,” she breathed.

Oh my God, Stephen almost said aloud, himself.

She was stunning.

Few people had ever pulled that adjective out of his personal repertoire. Tonight, Pepper Potts became one of those precious few.

When Stephen remembered to breathe again, he said, “Will that do?”

He conjured a full-length mirror for her. She gasped again when she saw herself reflected on it. She turned this way and that, marveling at how well the new dress clung to her slight frame.

“It’s,” she ventured, “a little loud, isn’t it? People will say I’m trying to steal the show.”

Stephen chuckled. Sure, the blue dress she’d initially worn was more understated, but…was she seriously concerned about attracting too much attention?

“Ms. Potts,” he assured her, “you already stole the show the moment you walked in. Now, you’re just wearing something different.”

She looked at herself in the mirror again, thoughtfully. Then, before Stephen’s very eyes, she affected the air of someone who was born in that red dress. Someone utterly comfortable in her own skin, who could attract anyone she wanted.

She turned back to Stephen, reached for his hands.

“Thank you,” she said again.

And Stephen, desperately attracted, didn’t want her to let go, ever.

But she did. She had to. She still had an entire room to dazzle.

And so she stepped out into the light.

It seemed that all eyes turned to her as soon as she did, including Tony’s.

She glided across the ballroom, going about her duties, but with renewed calm and confidence.

Stephen thought he saw a flush across her cheeks, but couldn’t tell if it was natural, or part of the glamour. Either way, it only made her sexier.

“Glad to see you two have been getting along.”

This was from Tony. The man sidled up to Stephen, slipped a hand into his.

“You know, I bought the old blue dress for her birthday a few years ago,” he confided. “I think that one was better.”

“Red is her color,” Stephen matter-of-factly replied. “Your blue dress can suck it.”

A thoroughly amused smirk touched Tony’s lips. “Are we to have a lover’s quarrel about this, Doctor?” No mistaking the flirt in his voice. “A duel to the death?”

“Winner gets to ask her out,” Stephen coyly joked.

Tony chuckled, let go of Stephen’s hand so he could wrap an arm around the man’s slender waist and draw him closer.

“She already told me she thinks you’re ‘intriguing,’ ” he disclosed in a whisper. “That’s not something we have to fight each other over.”

[today-only-happens-once]

Roman’s Arc: It’s Continuation in “Selfishness v. Selflessness”

I’ve seen a few posts over recent months talking about Roman Sanders’ character arc. Many of them discuss the arc as if it is something yet to come, rather than actively in progress, and I’d like to take a moment to present and discuss the idea that Roman’s arc has been unfolding gradually over the course of several videos. I think the newest video, “Selfishness v. Selflessness” is evidence of that.

This post is mostly about analyzing Roman’s development in the newest video with regards to the arc I’ve seen developing for quite some time. It’s probably my my favorite analysis I’ve written, because I felt like I was discovering as I wrote it. Without further ado, let’s begin. 

Roman is the first of the Sides to appear in this video, and for good reason. Thomas announces that he has a movie audition with Alfred Hitchcopalukas movie. In many ways, the beginning of this episode hearkens back to “I’M IN A DISNEY SHOW!!”. Celebratory, excited, and barely able to contain himself. 

Undoubtedly--from the very beginning--we know this opportunity means a great deal to Roman. We see that very clearly in Roman’s reaction to this moment,:

Deceit: Do you want the part in the movie or not?

But what’s telling, I think, is that Roman doesn’t speak for Thomas at first. It’s not until Thomas hesitates--and Deceit presses Thomas again with “Do you want the part or not?”--that Roman jumps in with “Of course he does!” 

He then goes on, after some back and forth with Patton and Deceit, to try to defend his perspective: 

Roman: I mean... things come up, you know? If Thomas’s Aunt Patty were in the hospital, then he would get a free pass to miss the wedding. Why should it be any different when something good comes up?

It’s important to note here that Roman--at this point--isn’t advocating for lying. When Deceit says that he likes Roman’s “Aunt Patty in the hospital excuse”, Roman’s response is “oh, I-I wasn’t--” before he’s cut off, indicating that he probably didn’t mean for that to be an excuse, but rather an example of something that would get Thomas that “free pass”. However... 

Deceit is nothing if not observant, and he certainly is manipulative. In many ways, he’s already begun his attempts to manipulate the Sides but he seems particularly interested in manipulating Roman. We see threads of this begin in the overlapping dialogue:

Roman and Deceit: What about us?

Patton and Virgil: What about us?

Deceit: Wow, guys, it’s so cool how you never listen to Roman.

Virgil: Why is he still here?!

Roman: Why am I still here?

Deceit: Wow. 

Virgil: I meant Deceit.

And, in fact, Virgil’s question comes to be a major one to ask. When Deceit points out that his very presence--and the fact that he is still there--suggests something about Thomas, Roman seems to take particular interest in that:

And then he’s thrust into the role of Judge. Throughout much of the trial, Roman seems to have this thick bravado on. Big gesturing, loud voice, humor delivered at not always appropriate times (”HEYO” for example). He buys into Deceit’s flattery--which once again reminds us of “Can Lying Be Good?”--time and again such as the following example:

Deceit [to Patton]: ‘Roman’? It’s ‘Your Honor’ to you. 

Roman: Hm. Sustained. 

This bravado is something that has been abundantly clear in previous videos, especially as Roman and the Sides have worked to let him release it. To speak to this point, I’d like to briefly turn back to “Learning New Things About Ourselves”, particularly Roman’s second section of “Incomplete”:

Roman: I’ve got an issue that feels new school. I don’t want to say I’m too cool, but I’m just too fab for you fools and I feel like you don’t get me. 

Thomas: You insulted us while venting.

Roman: Sorry--

Thomas: It’s all right, Princey. Honestly, it didn’t hurt me. It’s clear you’re the one that’s hurting.

Virgil: You feel low.

Roman: That’s not true. 

Patton: It’s okay.

Roman: Don’t assume.

Thomas: You don’t need to save face

Virgil: In almost any case

T, V, P: We embrace you.

Roman: That’s rich.

Virgil: No one hates you. 

[emphasis added]

Where we first saw a crack in Roman’s facade during the Crofters video, LNTAO was really the first time we see Roman being allowed to let down those walls. This is the first time he’s specifically called out for his bravado (”you don’t need to save face”). And in both the end of LNTAO and Embarassing Phases, we see Roman relaxing that bravado a bit:

Logan: You’re all better now, right, Roman?

Roman: Maybe not. But I’ll not shy away from it any longer.

-Learning New Things About Ourselves

Roman: That absolutely defeated me. I couldn’t cope with the fact that we weren’t on the same level as all the other incredible cosplayers at the cons you attended.

Patton: Aw, that was big of you to admit, Roman.

-Embarrassing Phases

But Roman pulls the bravado back on in Selfishness v. Selflessness. In many ways, this doesn’t come as a surprise, as painful as it is to see happen. Roman’s intense, deep desire for Thomas to pursue the callback audition over the wedding is held back only by the understanding that Thomas may not make that decision. Roman is aware that he may come out of this conversation devastated. And the first time we see a real crack in that bravado is the second he’s in the witness stand:

Deceit: Your name is Roman, correct?

Roman: The one and lonely.* What? Freudian slip. 

 [*Quick side-tangent that this line, in addition to being a crack in Roman’s bravado, may also foreshadow what Thomas confesses later on the stand himself in regards to why he doesn’t want to go to the wedding.]

 Roman is holding onto this bravado with both hands, even lying through his teeth initially to do it. In his effort--at first--to avoid being perceived as hurt, when Patton asks how he’d feel if Liza Minelli canceled on his wedding, his first response is to say, “wouldn’t bother me. Her not being there doesn’t change the fact that it’s my big day.” It’s only when Patton asks him again that Roman confesses “SO I would be devastated”. 

However, Roman then goes on to assert his own opinion on the issue so as to encourage Thomas to choose the audition over the wedding. I think some of this is because Roman feels conflicted in his own right. He evidently wants Thomas to go to the audition instead of the wedding--he blatantly says so. However, it’s important also to keep in mind that in the first Sides video, Roman’s gut response to identifying fears was “rejection” and he has--historically--expressed a deep concern with how others perceive and regard him; this is especially true with regards to Thomas, as was seen in “Am I Original?”

Roman: No! If I can’t come up with an original idea, what will you think of me? I can’t... let you down. 

Roman is held in a tension here between what he wants and the fear that if Thomas chooses otherwise, it will be devastating. I argue that this is why we get the following exchange while Thomas himself is on the stand being questioned by Deceit:

Deceit: Roman wants me to win, so...

Roman: Wha--What? Me? No. [scoffs] Come on.

Deceit: I know you’re lying, Roman. Like I said: everything has a purpose. And you’re denying yours. You want that callback so bad and it will crush you if we miss it.

And here is a shattering of the awkwardly worn bravado that Roman had tried to hard to put forward again. And once Roman’s has been ripped away from him, it doesn’t take long for Thomas to fall apart:

Thomas: Fine! I wanna go to the callback! I was planning on playing WordCrush on my phone during the wedding ceremony to keep my mind off the fact that I’m single. I don’t want to go. I’m afraid to go. And on top of that, a dream come true fell into my lap scheduled on the same day. Anyone would want to go to the callback. So yeah. I tried to force myself to forget about the wedding. And now I wanna lie to my friends so they don’t hate me for not supporting them. I am a liar. I’m a liar.

A lot of that monologue from Thomas speaks back to Roman. Roman’s “slip” that he’s lonely is a direct tie to Thomas’s desire to “keep [his] mind off the fact that [he’s] single”. The identification that the callback is “a dream come true” also connects directly to Roman not only because it’s in alignment with his personal desire for Thomas’s decision, but the specific language used in that phrasing “dream come true” is both fanciful and romantic--linking it directly to Roman. 

And then Roman surprises us: his “punishment” for Thomas is to miss the callback, and instead attend the wedding. When Deceit demands a reason, we see Roman’s bravado has completely evaporated. He’s quiet. Solemn. Understated. 

Roman: It’s my sworn duty to help Thomas achieve his hopes and dreams. But Thomas wouldn’t dream of attaining his hopes through deceitful means.

If I might put that into slightly different wording--as we’ve seen Roman describe himself as Thomas’s “hopes [and] dreams” in “Am I Original?”--Roman has come to understand that Thomas wouldn’t want him to become more like Deceit. Roman doesn’t want Thomas to achieve everything they’ve dreamed of only to arrive at the conclusion that he is, as Thomas claimed himself to be, “a liar”. 

And once that facade has been lowered, Roman keeps it lowered.

Deceit: And you want that stuff makes you happy, right?

Patton: Do I!

Roman: Do I. 

There is no illusion here--Roman’s punishment pains him to do. But he places the needs of everyone else above his own. Roman is beginning to release the mentality and bravado that made him claim “I’m the most important Side here!” in Learning New Things About Ourselves, and ask Thomas to forgo basic human needs in the name of dream-chasing in “Why Do We Get Out of Bed In the Morning?”.

Roman lets that brave face stay lowered through the end of the video (except the moment where he glares at Deceit when he says “there are smarter ways to get people to do what you want”), and it concludes with an extremely important moment between Thomas and Roman:

Thomas: Roman, I just, ah... I wanna thank you for helping to set me straight despite the cost. I... know that that wasn’t easy for you.

Roman: It wasn’t. But you’re welcome. 

And this--this moment of honesty and humility here--is a huge, monumental moment for Roman and his growth. 

Where this arc may yet continue to lead is TBD at the current moment. But Roman is growing and learning, and I think he’ll be moving forward with fewer blinders as it pertains to Deceit. I don’t think Roman will be so easily manipulated in the future--and I’ll be interested in what that may suggest about Roman’s honesty with himself as his character arc continues to develop. 

[aotopmha]

Attack On Titan Chapter 124 Thoughts

Chapter 36, the focus chapter Sasha had, has for the longest time been labeled as a filler chapter, but I maintain that it's thematically probably one of the most important chapters of the story and I think this chapter only adds to this idea.

Attack on Titan has such a strong perspective and thematic core and I think that's what makes this chapter a really solid one instead of just a chapter to drag this story out or just set all the ducks in row for what's coming.

Even if Eren succumbs to the demon inside of him, as Nicolo puts it, and has to be killed to be stopped, there are characters that haven't succumbed to their demons yet.

The story provides at least some source of hope even in it’s most darkest moments and compared to many other stories that go for this kind of exploration of humanity, I actually think this is one of the more balanced ones when it comes to the hope and darkness in the story. Usually the finale for these kind of stories is covered in a thick layer of cynicism, with the real, more idealistic perspective and actual thematic point of the story coming out in a understated, but firm manner - From the New World and Devilman Crybaby come to mind the most to me when it comes to anime.

Cynical stories about humanity to me are stories that have no empathy for humanity and just tell you how horrible it is.

Even as Jean expresses his cynical viewpoint this chapter, it’s full of understanding on the meta level.

As he's been doing since moral ambiguity has taken the center stage, Jean simply tries to rationalize a very difficult situation. It’s not there to say that the rest of humanity deserves this or humanity is shitty and that’s that.

The story has a lot of empathy for Eren's situation as it should because the readers have been with Eren on this journey for a long time and are conflicted just as the characters are.

Some of this material might be redundant (and I think the anime could help out here once more), but to me it's still very effective.

Some of my favorite themes in stories are learning to see the world in a more complex light and fighting against all the negative within yourself and I'm pretty much eating all of this up not only because it's themes that I love, but also because I think they are handled a bit more complexly than usual.

These have been some of the most fundamental ideas of the story since the first chapter: it all started with the most basic idea of standing up and keeping up the fight despite the fear and loss someone experiences and we’re right back here at the end of the story.

As I said in my initial post and what I’d say is the second strongest part of this chapter to me overall behind Nicolo’s speech about having a demon within yourself and leaving the forest, is Gabi's character arc.

Eren has been the primary positive representation of this struggle of fighting your demons for a while, but now it's Gabi - she fights to return everyone she loves to Reiner (and her) and does so without throwing anyone else under the bus, while Eren is now the negative representation of that struggle.

Stories about struggling with the bad in yourself don't often have negative examples where people lose against their demons, either, that's why I find Eren so interesting, as well.

The story truly paints nobody or nothing at fault here but human nature and I think you don’t really see that often.

Maybe in some story there is some conspiracy going on with some organization or some individual orchestrating everything that is wrong with the world - see Gurren Lagann, Kill la Kill, Dragon Ball or most other Shounen stuff. I enjoy that stuff - a central antagonistic force that represents everything that the protagonist shouldn't be/is representitive of an opposing ideaology isn't even foreign to AoT - for a time it was the Colossal Titan and the other shifters, the nobles within the walls, then Zeke specifically, all the way circling back to Eren himself and it very much helps to give direction to a story.

AoT just claims the root of all evil isn't one specific antagonistic character or group, but the parts of human nature that might drive us to hurt others.

The shitty nobles of the walls and King Fritz? Instead of the story just telling you how horrible they are, it also says that it’s human nature to grow corrupt - Ymir Fritz got her Titan powers by pure coincidence and naturally, humans took advantage of it. The humanity outside the walls? They aren't just a evil hivemind, in fact most of them are innocent people and the element that causes the most problems is actually ignorance.

Desiring power, being scared and hurting others because of being scared and doing anything you possibly could to survive, even if it also involves hurting others - it’s all shown as something natural, but also something to overcome rather than a inherent, unchangeable part of humanity.

It’s not just “that’s how humanity just is and there’s nothing we can do about it”, it’s “that’s how humanity is, but we can do something about it”.

It's human to succumb to these instincts, but we can also be above them.

This chapter is called "Thaw" and majority of it is about barriers between people melting away - Gabi and Kaya, Shadis and the recruits, the 104th and Gabi and of course, even the barrier Annie is surrounded by melting away.

Eren's presence as an enemy seems to have caused everyone to at least temporarily try and put their differences aside for the sake of survival, so whether Eren planned this or not, on some level unity is being achieved because nobody wants to die. This situation is playing into humanity’s intrinsic desire to survive and strive. Eren’s message to the Eldians really might be something to facilitate at least a temporary truce among all the sides for everyone to survive and if the Eldians play a essential part in stopping this, their contribution would be impossible to ignore and therefore they should get something positive out of this.

I suppose how believable it would feel narratively is up to everyone individually, but I don’t feel like it’s all that naive if you frame it like that.

Looking at it myself, I think some people would fall back to rely on their worse instincts, but I also think some wouldn't - an overly cruel humanity is just as unrealistic as an overly kind one.

There's nothing much for me to say about Annie because the panel of her being out of her crystal says nothing, but her plot thread is now at least addressed.

Finally, some neat details are Armin once again taking action with the Manouver Gear as he did before to be consistent with some physical character growth we've seen of him and Connie taking away Falco to finally also address the plot thread with his mother - if it came ahead somehow, I think Connie finally having enough makes sense and was properly built up.

Nile ultimately had his character arc capped off in a fine way prior to this chapter, so what happened here worked for me.

Looks like Pixis actually didn't get eaten by a female Titan, but rather taken out by a character with the history of being mistaken for a girl, so there you go. Armin also ended his life with respect, which I think also works fine here.

It's also nice Shadis gets to have a little bit of a character development moment of acting instead of just remaining passive.

I think now the plot threads left to address are:

1) The Ackerman powers

2) Levi and Hange

3) Historia

4) Eren

5) Kiyomi

6) The Warhammer Titan

I think the story can do it just fine looking at the timetable with the announced season 4. Some of these don't need very elaborate explanations and can be combined with other stuff - like Connie's mother.

I expect Levi and Hange, Annie, Eren and Historia to all get separate chapters and the other stuff to get mixed in there.

I think it'd work out with 8-10 more chapters.

This chapter, though, was a solid set-up chapter with side character payoffs and closures here and there to me.

I think the story is definitely doing it's best to give closure to everything - Connie's mother and Annie have seemed to be dropped plot threads for many people for a while now, but the story brought them back and seems to wish to address them in some manner.

The story has already broken ground among mystery box stories for actually answering most of it's huge mysteries in time, but as I've gone into in a bunch of my chapter posts for some time now, if it satisfyingly sticks the final landing, even in however flawed way, I think it'll definitely be special just for that.

[bluboothalassophile]

What’s a Holiday without a Little Murder?

Lucifer chuckled as his demon whisked off her current sexual partner; Patrick. His bonded, mate, lover, and wife seemed pleased and smug with herself as she turned around to face him.

“Mm, you’re back,” she chuckled, her head falling back before she turned around to lean over the counter at him.

“For good, all debts filled,” he chuckled. “Nephilim created and angelic links severed.”

“Did you ever wonder why they wanted that?” Maze sighed.

“Not a thought to cross my mind whilst we’re on this lovely holiday,” he chuckled.

“Shame, oh, and she’s been asking for you,” Maze pointed, and he turned in time to see Delilah. The human was rather beautiful, but that had been before, well before the drugs, and life style had caught up to her.

“Oh?” he arched a brow at this and looked back to Maze. “I will go see what she wants, it is good to see you again, Maze,” he chuckled kissing his demon’s left cheek, she preened a bit and he grabbed the drinks before walking over to his former employee.

Delilah saw him and he offered her a drink, she accepted as he kissed her cheek as well.

“There’s something I need to know,” she said.

“Well, what’s that?” he offered as they walked to a quieter lounge in Lux. She sat beside him with a heavy sigh before she dragged her hand through her ratty blonde hair.

“Did I… Did I sell my soul or something, to the Devil?” she asked.

He just about choked on his drink, before sputtering at her question. “No,” he assured her. He made deals, not for souls, though that had been, and still was the standing currency in Hell, the more souls, the more power, and so on. But as he was an archangel, souls were not something he required to gain power. In fact, he could not gain more power, even if he so wanted to. Other than the Endless, Michael and dear old Dad, no one was more powerful than he. And even Endless had stipulations on their powers, and what they could and could not do because of the aspects of continuous reality they were bound to; so in many ways he was more powerful than an Endless even. “All I did was introduced you to a few key people who owed me favors, darling,” he said firmly.

“It’s just that out of all of the good there was a lot of bad,”

“So the Devil made you do it? The alcohol, the drugs, the topless selfies? The choices are on you, my dear. I mean Jimmy Barnes! I can’t believe you almost married that sweaty little imp!”

“He produced my album! You introduced me to him!”

“I suggested that you work with him, not that you to sleep with the maggot. And I certainly didn’t encourage you to marry him,” he chuckled.

“Well… I got a little confused,” she defended meekly with a self-depreciating smile, which had him barking a laugh.

“Then you left him at the altar!”

“Yeah… that was rude of me,” she chuckled dryly.

“No, I actually quite enjoyed that bit,” he assured her with a chuckle.

“You know, he trapped me in a bathroom at the Grammies, and tried to get back together, then I hear he’s marrying a super model this weekend! And I’m jealous…” she slurred. “Oh God I’m a mess,” she sighed.

“God has nothing to do with your mess, darling. No, you didn’t sell your soul,” he promised her tiredly. She gave him a very skeptical look, which had him smiling a bit more. “I like you Delilah,” he said. “But you do owe me a favor.”

“I’m scared,” she meekly offered.

“You should be, because what I’m asking will be quite difficult for you,” he warned. He would like to call in his IOU with her at a later time, but that wasn’t going to happen. He wasn’t as distasteful of humans so much now, the past few years had enlightened him to many of their peculiarities, though it had not saved him from his anger at his Father for His obsession over His toys. However, he would like to actually help again, he was an angel and helping felt better to him than anything else; expect maybe punishing the wicked.

She looked panicked for a second.

“Pull yourself together. You’re wasting your talent, your life!” he exclaimed, she nodded with that sweet smile before leaning over to him, he pressed his lips to her brow and glanced at Maze who shrugged at him like he had no clue what was going on. Bloody demon ears though, he knew she had heard it all which had him snorting in amusement. He and Delilah spent the next hour carefully talking about everything on her mind, and when she started to seem calmer, and more relaxed he signal for someone to get her coat.

“Give me a moment, I will walk you out, dear.”

“Gotta go say goodnight to Mazikeen?” she chuckled. “You two are sweet.”

“We are no such thing, but I do have to go check on her and make sure she isn’t raising a little more Hell than normal,” he said before walking off. He got to the bar, where Maze was serving drinks.

His demon paused her work as she leaned on the counter, her look stern and unforgiving as usual, which warned him that tonight’s reunion was going to be a somewhat violent affair. He knew that Mazikeen hadn’t approved of him giving Fate whatever was asked of him to have this holiday and to remove them from the tapestry of Dad’s plan, but it was worth it, even if Mazikeen did not understand. He wanted no more ties to dad, and he hadn’t felt like having all six of his wings cut off just to sever the connections. It wouldn’t be worth it, and it wouldn’t truly sever his connections to Heaven or his Father, or worse… his siblings. Now he was cut free, he and Mazikeen were bound to nothing and no one, they were only bound to each other through the celestial bond they had created when he ruled Hell.

“Heading out?” she asked.

“I’m walking Delilah to her car, I will return shortly, love,” he assured her. “Then you can punish me all you want for the deals I make,” he promised; kissing his bonded’s cheek before walking out with Delilah.

“You and Maze are really good together,” she mused as they walked out.

“Equal understandings and interests there, darling.”

“I wish I could have that,” she nodded.

“Now, darling, you’ll find it,” he promised weakly. He didn’t know if she would or wouldn’t, but humans tended to seek out the companionship for it. “But I do have a favor to ask you darling,” he said.

“I promise to do what you asked of me, Lucifer,” Delilah offered.

“Look, it’s not about me,” he stated. “What happens now, that’s up to you,” he firmly informed her. He had given freewill to creation; and it had come at the price of his Fall, he had given them freewill. He had learned that others should not be puppets and his most understated gift to humanity; the gift which had banished them from Father’s Garden of Eden, was freewill, the ability to think and feel and live without being Father’s puppets. Looking at the pitiful state Delilah was in he was sorry and glad he had rebelled and given these creatures freewill.

“I’ll do it,” she nodded as she hugged him, he hugged her loosely before he saw the flashes, he felt the bullets passing through him, harmless, even as he staggered at the impact and heat, Delilah was gasping in her arms, as she staggered, they collapsed in the shattering singing of glass falling, which had him gasping. The car sped up, he heard the tires screeching, there was a crash as he pushed himself up to scramble over the mortal. Already he felt her soul fluttering out, severed from her mortality.

“No, no no!” he gasped tracing the hair out of her eyes, those sightless eyes stared up at nothing, and even now he knew where she was going, which infuriated him as he scrambled to his feet. A beat of his wings and he landed by the car, the gentleman’s soul was struggling to exit it’s body. “Oh no, not quite yet,” he snarled grabbing the man’s through, his grace gluing the soul in place as the body gasped for life, large eyes staring at him in terror.

Lucifer trembled with his rage, his forms were flickering in his anger.

“What did you do!?” he snapped at the gasping, dying human. If he held on much longer this human would go to the Empty, and he didn’t want that.

“Sorry… just a job,” he gasped.

“See you in Hell,” Lucifer snarled as he released the soul, turning around, inspecting the bullet holes in his clothes as he walked over to where Delilah lay.

“I’m sorry dear,” he sighed as he closed her eyes, there were sirens ringing in the night’s air. There was a cop there, and he nodded as he feigned being in shock, he could feel Maze thrumming through their bond, it was a comfort to him. Maze, his consort, his bonded, always there, in the back of his mind, the link was his only saving grace from true panic. Her presence was a constant, soothing; even when he’d been locked in the Cage and she was beyond pissed at him.

He had mostly panicked a little thinking one of his siblings had somehow tracked him to Los Angeles, which was why he had flared his panic to Maze as the bullets tore through Delilah, he had reacted because he’d seen a flash of light, it wasn’t acceptable. He would get better at this mortal world life he had come to live in. Guns were a part of the mortal reality and annoying with their light flashing and bullets.

He looked over at the cops, there was a detective coming to him, even as he made his initial statement, asked to hand his shirt over as evidence, he shrugged out of the jacket and shirt with ease, even as he felt his back twitch in reaction to the cold. The Cage’s scars had never healed properly, as they’d been inflicted on his Grace.

The cops stared as he pulled a Silk Cut and lit it, taking a soothing breath; the smoke reminded him of Hell; and that soothed him. If he thought of Hell he had to be composed because being uncomposed was not an option. He stood there chatting up the officers; wondering when he could escape back to Lux; which was probably closed now.

She walked towards him, carefully navigating her way around the scene, and he watched her carefully as she walked from the car. She was walking towards him, her blonde hair and frumpy styled cloths concealed her figure. He bet she’d have thought it to be an excellent way to have people take her seriously. Her face was stunning, almost as if it had been sculpted to seduce, even etched in a pouty sorrow, he smiled charmingly.

“I’m Detective Chloe Decker, I’m sorry about this, Mr…?” she said.

“Morningstar, Lucifer Morningstar,” he answered. There wasn’t even a spark of acknowledgement in what he had said with her. Most humans stood there in awe of him, but this one just nodded.

“Mr. Morningstar, you were standing by the victim?”

“We were embracing and saying farewells, bullets went straight through me,” he informed her. “That man, the driver, he said it was a job.”

“What!?” she looked up now sputtering.

“It’s quiet chilly out here detective, mind if we go to Lux so I might retrieve some clothing?” he asked.

“Uh… sure,” she nodded dumbly.

“Excellent.” He released a drag before spinning on his heels and sauntering to Lux, which was surprisingly quiet. But then he noticed the cops asking his patrons questions.

“Lucifer!” Maze shouted, he looked in time to see her walking over to him, her dark, sinful glory.

“Ah, Maze!” he greeted, she plucked his cigarette out of his fingers and took a deep drag of it.

“Cops busted in, wouldn’t let me leave,” she said in frustrations.

“Excuse me,” the detective said. “Witnesses shouldn’t talk together,” she stated.

“Witnesses!?” Maze glared at him, and he shrugged. “Oh don’t even try that!”

“Devil may care, love,” he chuckled dryly.

“Lucifer!” Maze hissed.

“Can you please stop talking to the witness, ma’am.”

“I’m sorry, detective, this is Mazikeen, she is my partner,” Lucifer said turning around, looping his arm around his demon’s waist, she glared cynically at him.

The detective glared at Maze, who now smiled dryly.

“A pleasure to meet you,” Maze offered with the utmost disdain she could muster up.

“Right, we have to go up to the penthouse, the detective has a few things to ask me, I’ll see you tonight,” he promised.

“Can I get your full name for the record?” The detective asked.

“Mazikeen Morningstar,” Maze stated. “See you upstairs,” she said. He kissed her left cheek; as he always did before walking for the elevators. When they had met, Maze was sensitive about her demon appearance, neither beautiful enough to be a temptress, nor hideous enough to scare others, her face was a natural mark of her demon heritage, the decomposed, rotting, mummified half of her face. And since their meeting Lucifer had always done what he could to bestow love on that side of her face, it was now an afterthought for him, for it was a habit; ingrained into him over a millennium.

“That’s your…?” Detective Chloe started.

“My demon consort, sworn before my Father in Las Vegas before an Elvis impersonator. We would have done Wonder Woman, but Maze would’ve fucked Wonder Woman,” he chuckled dryly.

“Right…” Chloe drawled out. “What can you tell me of the deceased?” Chloe asked when they finally made it to the penthouse.

“Not a lot,” he answered walking for his wardrobe. Grabbing a clean shirt he pulled it on, and picked up the jacket. “She was a former employee of mine, a singer in Lux’s lounge, I introduced her to people, and she got big,” he shrugged.

“You said you were shot?”

“Yes,” he shrugged.

“And you walked away from that?” Chloe sputtered.

“I am immortal, dear. It’ll take more than a mere human bullet to take me down,” he replied as he did up his buttons again. He didn’t know why he was doing them, Maze was likely going to tear them all off immediately. With a sigh he left the shirt open and shoved his hands in his pockets.

“Right,” Chloe nodded, looking at him as if he were a mere crazy person.

“Look, detective, someone shot her because they wanted her dead!” he snapped. “The gentleman in the car said it was a job.”

“You spoke to the shooter?”

“I glued his soul in place long enough to ask about it, yes,” he answered.

“Did he say anything else?”

“No, but a jobs a job, and he was wearing a ridiculously fancy watch a maggot like he could never afford on his own, a gold Rolex,” he snorted walking past the detective.

“They could’ve been after you?”

“My dear, the people after me would not use mere human bullets,” he retorted. No, if Michael came after him it’d be with a sword; but that was provided his big brother recovered from the Cage at all. Which he doubted.

“How’d you get the scars?” Chloe asked.

“My lovely Father’s punishment,” he replied honestly. Pouring himself a drink he sighed. “Detective I really can’t be much more help to you.”

“I’ll be in touch,” she said handing him a card as she took down his contact information. He looked at it then at her as she stood in the elevator.

“Detective, you had best find who did this before I do,” he warned as the doors closed. Turning away he put her card on the counter and walked to the balcony. He felt Maze coming towards him, through their bond. It was handy to always know where the other was.

A celestial bond, it was an exchange of life forces, he knew that his Father did not approve of these bonds, mainly because it was not something He understood. To love another being, equal to or more than oneself, and to have enough respect to bind your life to theirs, it was a massive commitment which would supersede all others.

He had bonded with Maze; rather unintentionally, shortly after his fall, when all the burns were still hurting and his many wings broken, and the fires of Hell bonding with him. 

Maze had appeared, accidentally finding him when she was running from one of the Dukes of Hell who wanted her as his mate. Barbatos, who was a fine warrior, and torturer, and overall demon, had had his ass kicked by Maze rather publicly and wanted to publicly humiliate the ‘lesser demon’. Maze and he had met because she was running for her life; she was a lesser demon, in terms of power, and in Hell, power was what determined Rank. His power superseded all in Hell, and Maze had been the first to show him kindness, then sworn herself to him. Lucifer had felt their bond form the moment she had done that, he had instinctively reciprocated and she had collapsed to her knees feeling his energy. It was glorious the day they bonded, because it was the first time ever, in his entire existence, he was not so utterly alone, he had an equal and someone who would always stay with him, that had been…

He had no words to describe what Maze had given him when she had sworn her loyalty to him, given her life in his hands, and he had reciprocated.

Maze would never leave him, he would never be left alone, and she would always be there for him, that meant more to him than life itself. Lesser demon or not, she was more than his equal, and she alone had proven to be greater than even the greatest demons and archangels.

The elevator rolled open and he heard his demoness walking towards him.

“You’re an asshole!” she snapped. “Who’s the dead mortal?”

“Delilah,” he answered as he turned to look at Mazikeen, shoving his hands in his pockets. “I just do not know why.”

“What does it matter?” Maze snorted as she folded her arms.

“It matters,” he assured her. His demon assessed him with a critical dark eye before she snorted and walked away, back to the club. He knew his demon would never truly understand, it was not in the demon nature to ask why, all that mattered to demons was: who, what, when, where, and how. They loved how and who usually, it was their jobs. They were creatures of instincts, darkness, aspects that his Father hadn’t been able to control so deemed evil in his war. But no all demons were evil, he knew, having met Mazikeen, who was a Mazzikin demon, the youngest daughter of Lilith. She had been an oddity in the Lilim ranks, a demon who was different was usually destroyed, and he had interfered with that. It was a chance meeting between him and Masikeen.

Her name was even a relic of their first meeting.

Demons wouldn’t understand the need to know why, why was a question which typically fucked them over. Why were they evil? Why were the darkness? Why did they exist? Why did why even matter in the eternal celestial game? He knew this from talks with Maze and her routine dismissal of why as a valid question. But as an angel he knew why was important, and he wanted to know why Delilah was laying there in the glass and blood.

“Is there something else that happened?”

“Yes, Detective Decker,” he answered. Maze rolled her eyes. “She made me cold,” he informed his consort. Maze’s attitude drained from her as she stiffened.

“You stay away from her,” she warned.

“I’m going to find who killed Delilah,” he informed her.

“Then be careful, we still don’t know about your brothers and sisters, or where your Father is,” she warned.

“I’m always careful,” he pointed out smugly. The look she gave him had him laughing. “It isn’t fun if I’m not occasionally the damsel in distress, you’d grow bored with me.”

“You boring? Never,” she assured him.

“I will find the responsible mortal for this, and make them pay, Mazikeen,” he warned tracing her shoulder with his finger tips. He marveled at the demoness before him, she was so wild, dangerous and untamed, and all his.

“I thought we were on holiday?” she stated.

“I do believe we are, this will serve as a distraction love, or you can have fun tying me up and doing naked fun things you want as punishment for me leaving you for the President,” he chuckled. She bit her lip in anticipation as she stepped forward then.

“I like that one,” she said pointedly.

“I thought you might,” he chuckled as he caught her chin and gave her a quick kiss. A thousand different lovers, a millennium of them, and only Maze had kept his attention this long, and continued to captivate him.