#that’s simply not going to fit well under a cloak! depending on the material it might even get flattened or crushed

[trees-to-meet-you]

Ralsei wore a cloak over his robes and hat??

[whentheynameyoujoy]

Hey:) have you read the ATLA comic Love is a Battlefield? I'd love to hear your thoughts on it !

The comic makes me seriously wonder what the person who okayed it was drinking.

For one, it’s the single best demonstration anyone might need that the conflict the ship is based on isn’t one you want to have in your romance under any circumstances—that between a girl who’s just not that into a guy and said guy who won’t take no for an answer.

It single-handedly validates every anti-cataanger out there—Aang’s portrayed as entitled, selfish, and utterly delusional about his relationship with Katara who is supposed to have no voice in it and quietly conform to his idea of her and their bond instead of functioning as a separate being with her own wants and notions.

But let’s bring the receipts, shall we?

So the story begins innocuously enough, with Aang drawing the air and water symbols in the sand and adding a heart around them. Cute and innocent so far, I like. Katara appears, acting as though she wants to talk to him, and Aang concludes it’s about the invasion kiss. Why would he think that is beyond me but let’s roll with it. But instead of delving into that particular can of worms, Katara splashes Aang with some water in an attempt to get him to practice.

He doesn’t take it well.

Notice the bold “finally”. What this says to me is that in Aang’s mind, it’s Katara’s job to come to him and report as his girlfriend, just by virtue of being kissed, and it’s been mighty upsetting to him that she “failed” to do so.

After all, consider The Ember Island Players:

“We kissed at the Invasion, and I thought we were gonna be together.”

Aang doing a thing means that Aang & Katara did a thing mutually.

In his view, he isn’t supposed to be the one who approaches her and explains why he saw fit to plant one on her; who opens up about his feelings and initiates a frank conversation. No, that was a claiming kiss at the invasion and Katara can only acknowledge it as such and reciprocate.

Our Every RomCom Guy Ever doesn’t realize that Katara not talking to him about it is the answer to where they stand.

This is the third time in as many pages, btw, that Katara tries to get Aang to practice. And for a good reason because we’re a short while removed from The Western Air Temple where he yet again refused to face up to an unpleasant truth and instead had to be literally chased around like an unruly child. Katara’s fully in a sifu mode here, not even perceiving the opportunity to talk about their relationship. And if an assertive fourteen-year old doesn’t think to talk about her second ever kiss with the guy who gave it to her, that should tell you all you need to know about how much she appreciated it.

Aand that’s fourth time. Katara really seems to think that taking down this Fire Lord dude is important or something and that Aang is once again failing to prepare for it. Look, she even has a nickname for it at this point. Yet for some reason, Nice Guy Aang reframes the situation—WHILE HIDING IN A LITERAL ROCK—as a role reversal where it’s Katara running away from confrontation and having to face the truth, even though he revealed in this very scene that he didn’t think it was his job to be open about his feelings with the girl he believes he loves.

At last, Katara realizes Aang’s hinting at the invasion kiss and reacts like any girl who’s harbouring a secret crush would—by visibly cringing and pretending she doesn’t know what he’s talking about and the wind’s really strong for her to hear what he’s saying anyway so maybe it’d be a good idea for Aang to come out and practice? (fifth time)

Finally, supreme gentleman Aang does the one thing he’s not supposed to do—he loses control and depending on how charitable you are either puts Katara in harm’s way (by firebending, weird how that keeps happening), or outright assaults her in blind rage.

Luckily, Katara’s just glad that Zuko’s training is yielding results and maybe the world won’t end in an Ozai-induced inferno by the end of the summer.

Scorned LoverBoi couldn’t give less of a shit, though.

And there you have it, explicitly in the text. Katara, despite showing no signs of attraction and not encouraging Aang’s advances in any way, is perceived by him as someone who’s cruelly toying with his feelings—simply because her reactions don’t conform to what he wants them to be. The relationship is utterly about him and it’s so mean of Katara that she doesn’t feel like playing the demure cut-out in his hero-gets-the-girl routine.

Let’s not mince words, this is some prime incel logic Aang’s operating on.

And the creators don’t seem to realize this. Which is why they never challenge him on his behaviour in the show, reward it in the finale, and go on reaffirming it in every single post-canon material there is.

And I find it sort of infuriatingly hilarious that someone not only conceived of the ship this way, but thought it was a good idea to present it to the world as a basic vanilla romance.

Which makes me wonder.

Because as strange as this might sound, there is a universe where this story is not only perfectly okay, but absolutely crucial to the overall narrative.

That is if the show actually followed up on The Guru and culminated in Aang letting go of Katara to unlock the Avatar state.

From start to finish, the comic proves Pathik completely and utterly right—what Aang feels for Katara isn’t selfless love, it’s selfish attachment. But instead of it being cloaked in vague religious language, we see it manifest in a painfully tangible way. The story’s kinda unintentionally brilliant if you read it like this—it’s show to Pathik’s tell. Aang is too wrapped up in what he feels to see the signs and runs away from having to acknowledge the painful reality that’s clearly evident, i.e. that Katara doesn’t love him. And because he’s so invested in his delusions, he blows up whenever challenged on them, acting on entitlement and baseless expectations and going so far as to slowly kill the beautiful relationship they actually do have—a lifelong bromance.

If this story foreshadowed that Aang needed to let go of his attachment not only to save the world, but to even keep Katara in his life, I’d be fully on board.

But for that to happen, the creators would have to take a step back, start considering perspectives beyond Aang’s, and stop treating him like an infallible bringer of truths who deserves human prizes just for doing his job.

And if they were able to do that then we wouldn’t be here in the first place.

[whittakerjodie]

A Quick Reprieve (13th Doctor X Reader)

For: The lovely @evening-sol who I know is going to do amazing on her upcoming exam. Love you. 

A/N: sorry for lack of writing. Have this. 

Typically, your alarm would shatter your slumber and let you know that it was time to start your day. But tonight, or more accurately, this morning, you were already up and alert; you had been, the entire time. Before you, on your desk, lay a plethora of notebooks, papers, flashcards- anything and everything that could prepare you for the upcoming exam. It was a cloud that had been hanging over your head for weeks now, and you weren't sure if you’d be ready to face the rain when it broke open. All you could do was prepare and it seemed like there was no limit to the hours you had to spend to do that.

A consequence of that was the fact that you had spent the whole night awake, rereading almost every single word and yet feeling as though you weren’t absorbing any of them. One more round, you kept telling yourself, as you paused to blink the sleep out of your eyes. A hand moved to close the book in front of you. The book shut with a thump that was just as gentle as the hand that closed it. A gentle hand which was not your own.

“Seems like you’ve had enough of this for now,” more gentleness, this time in the form of a quiet whisper. You tilted your head back. Although your eyes were half closed, you could still see the Doctor’s face peering down at you, her lips molded into a small frown.

“What’re you doing here?” You asked, wincing at the way your dry throat was scratched by the words. The Doctor reached over you to start gathering your notes into piles. It didn’t seem like she had a plan when she began the attempt, but somehow it seemed as though she was organizing it all quite nicely. Or at least you hoped, for the sake of your studying. You watched her as she tucked it all under her arm and grabbed a blanket from your bed.

“Are you too tired to walk?”

“Depends. Where am I walking to?”

“Yeah, you definitely sound too tired. Be right back!” the Doctor said, a bit more cheerfully. Her very awake personality and movements contrasted with your tired ones a little bit too much, and you realized just how drastic they were. Suddenly everything felt very heavy on your shoulders. Without any notes to stare at, your eyes started to throw in the towel. What perked you up was the sound of the TARDIS materializing. You didn’t open your eyes, which had shut, but if you did you would’ve seen the TARDIS parking itself around you, inviting you into its infinite depths. Your chair and your desk, too, meaning you’d have to move them later. But beggars couldn’t be choosers.

“I really don’t… want to move,” you admitted, completely slumped against the chair. You heard paper slap against the console as the Doctor set your papers down. Then the sound of paper hitting the floor. You peeked through one eyelid to see all of your notes scattered on the floor. They had apparently not found a comfortable resting place on the console. The Doctor stepped in front of them, walking over to you.

“You don’t have to if you don’t want to. Might wake up with a hurt back though.”

You groaned; after everything else, the last thing you needed was a hurt back.

“Are you okay with me carrying you to your room?”

Normally, such an offer would make you blush like mad. But the blood in your body had settled for the night and you just grunted in response, hoping the TARDIS translated the ‘yes’ hidden in it. Your hopes came true as the Doctor pulled you into her arms, lifting you off of your chair and away from your desk. You didn’t even make it to your bedroom before your eyes screwed shut, determined to get some rest.

When you awoke, your cheek tingled with the memory of a gentle touch and your hair seemed less tangled than it usually was upon waking, as if someone had combed through it for you. Lately when you woke up, your body would tense and your mind would kick into its highest gear, nervous for the day ahead and the studying that you had to fill it with. But this time you felt completely at peace, as if everything was paused and waiting for you to decide when to press play again. Like you were completely in control. It felt nice. As did the sheets and comforter that covered you, joined with the blanket the Doctor had brought from your room. She had laid it over you, you realized. She had tucked you in.

Oh, she had carried you to bed. Now that your body was awake, your blood rushed to your face and you hugged the blankets a little bit closer, trying to hold onto the realization as tightly as you could. After a few moments, your mind considered the timelord in a different way: where was she?

You decided to find out after a long moment, grabbing your blanket and wrapping it around yourself like a cloak. It floated behind you as you quickly walked through the halls of the TARDIS, your strength and awareness renewed. After several empty rooms and one encounter with a horse, you found a large open space with no defined ceiling or walls. Despite the lack of basic room features, the Doctor had found a way to string up several strands of crepe streamers in various colors. Each color seemed to be in just the shade that you preferred, blending together beautifully.

“You shouldn’t be up yet!” The timelord complained from behind you. Head moving towards the noise, you found her sitting criss-cross applesauce on the ‘floor’. It seemed as if she’d rolled around in the same streamers that she had decorated with, as they were tangled all around her body, like there had been a failed party-themed mummification. She glanced down at them and smiled sheepishly, then wiggled out of them, as if she wasn’t aware that they could simply be torn. Maybe she didn’t want to tear them. After all, it seemed as though she had a plan to use them to really pull the rest of the room together.

You realized that the stretches of the room, glaringly white upon entering, were actually shifting through a variety of gentle shades at a slow pace. It gave the impression that the room was pulsing, alive. Like the TARDIS was celebrating with you. But celebrating what? What was the Doctor getting up to?

“What’s this for?”

“For you! Well, once I get everything else in here” she said with a loud scronch of her nose. “Took me a while to find the party supplies. Got chased by a tiger.”

“For me?” You asked.

“Yeah!” the time lord stood, brushing herself off. In the movement, a small bit of confetti fell from her pocket. She kicked it aside with her foot. “That was for later. Don’t worry, plenty more where that came from. These pockets are bigger on the inside after all.”

She patted the fabric for good measure, and a little bit more confetti fell out. 

“You can go off and rest some more, or study if that’s what you need! I have everything set up for you in the library. You can tell me when you feel ready, and I’ll drop you off for the exam. But only when you’re absolutely ready, okay? No rushing yourself.”

Before you could speak, her voice barrelled on. She put her hands on her hips and stuck out her chest, as if making an important announcement. “Then, after the exam, we celebrate!”

After that, the Doctor had pushed you out of the room and towards the library. She had indeed made sure everything was set up for you. There were multiple tables put together so that all of your notes had their own space instead of sitting in piles. Behind the tables sat what appeared to be the most comfortable chair in existence. The curves and support seemed to be a perfect fit for your body, something you could tell without even sitting in it. Once you did, you couldn’t help but sigh a little in relief. It felt like the chair was going to take on some of the pressure you knew would come from tackling your notes again.

It was nice to have everything laid out in front of you and to revisit it after a nice break. Everything felt refreshed. Your brain seemed prepared to take on more information and hold it tight until it was ready to be moved to the far reaches of your mind after the exam. The exam. Even though you felt eager to tackle your notes again, the thought of the exam still set you on edge. The Doctor had said that she would drop you off at the exam when you felt ready to take it. But would you ever feel ready? You felt transported to the night before, when you were so sure that no amount of time could ever be enough.

A large part of you felt ready to get it over with, equipped with all of the knowledge you’d learned in class and nearly memorized while studying. But a small part of you worried that there was some missing piece that would trip you up. An unexpected or confusingly worded question that would throw you off the rhythm you were already worried about.

All of a sudden you blinked. You must not have done it for a while. Your eyes felt dry and, with a groan, you realized that they already felt tired both in the sense that they were bored and exhausted. Suddenly it didn’t seem so nice that your notes were all spread out. Now you had to take in how much there was, how overwhelming all of the information was to handle. You pushed yourself away from the tables, the rolling chair carrying you far across the room.

Awkwardly but determined, you managed to kick yourself back into the Doctor’s party room on the rolling chair, not wanting to move from it despite moving destinations. The time lord perked up at the sound of the chairs' tires moving across the floor. Somehow, in the few minutes that you’d been gone, she’d gotten a significant amount of decorating done. Perhaps you waking up had made her feel the need to work faster.

“Something wrong? Not stuck to the chair I hope? It hasn’t come alive? There is plastic in it, and sometimes the Autons-”

“No, Doctor, the chair isn’t alive” You confirmed. “Very comfortable though. I just… wasn’t comfortable with all the other stuff”

Seeing the Doctor’s confused and concerned expression, you quickly clarified “The studying. I don’t know, I guess it’s just hard to go back to it after a break, even though I probably should. “

“Or you could take a longer break!” the Doctor suggested eagerly. “Little trip? Or two? We could meet all the science greats! Historical figures, or even just someone you really like”

You considered it for a moment, but shook your head. “I don’t know, Doctor. I’m torn. I feel like I could do that, I could run and take an eternity to study. But I also want it over with, you know? Sometimes I feel like I need so much more time and sometimes I wish that I could just go ahead and get it done. “

“Which voice is louder?”

“Neither.”

The Doctor put down the party supplies that she was holding. Several packages of un-inflated balloons sat on the floor, all in your favorite colors. The sentiment pricked your heart a little.

“Do you know what I think?” The Doctor said, bringing your attention back to her. Her stance had softened and she stepped in front of you, cupping your chin and making your eyes meet. “I think that you could follow either voice. Do whatever you need, whatever feels best. But either way it wouldn’t change the fact that you are capable of taking that exam.”

“Capable of taking it maybe. Getting a great score…” you sighed, looking around at the room. “I mean, I appreciate the hope and your effort setting up this celebration and all but if I don’t pass-”

“Then we’d still celebrate” The Doctor said, her voice strong and sure. “You don’t think I set up this party for some number, do you?”

She moved behind your chair, setting her hands on your shoulders and squeezing reassuringly. “I set this up to celebrate you and your hard work. Because that’s what matters. Not what score you get.”

She shifted her hands to the back of the chair and began to pull, then push, and you were off, directed by her whim and hanging on to the seat for dear life.

“How many hours have you studied?” She yelled as she propelled you through the TARDIS. The lights seemed to fly by- how fast was she moving, and where was she taking you?

“I don’t kn- Doctor!” You yelled. She had turned a corner all too sharply, nearly knocking you out of the chair. You leaned backward for your own safety, pressed up against the back of the chair.

“How many hours have you spent in school learning”

You could only squeal in response as the Doctor turned another corner, her need for speed becoming concerning as she asked you questions. Another few corners past and you found yourself laughing. Whether it was out of nerves or joy, you weren’t sure. Perhaps the notes of laughter were a mix of both melodies, creating a funny feeling in your stomach.

“How many tests? Exams?”

“I-” you nearly choked on air. “A lot, I guess?” The console room came into view, and then Doctor slowed to a stop in front of the TARDIS doors. Your brain was whirring, late in realizing that you’d stopped moving. The Doctor stepped back in front of you, hands still on the back of the chair. She was leaning over you, peering down into your wide eyes.

“All of that- all of the studying, the hours spent in school, and the other assessments. You’re here, aren’t you? “

You nodded slowly.

“You’ve made it this far, after all of that. If this fear you’re feeling, about not passing or not having studied enough, had the power to stop you, it would’ve done so already. But it hasn’t. You’ve faced it each and every time and come out on top. Now you’ve just got one more go at it. And do you know what? I think you’ll do brilliantly”

You just stared up at her, enthralled by her words and her eyes. Both were so honest, awakening a sense of security within you. She was right. You’d felt this fear before, and what had happened? Everything had still led to this point, where you were so close to achieving everything that you wanted to. Perhaps the fear wasn’t a stopping point or a hurdle, but something to carry along with you like you always had. Like a companion.

“Did the TARDIS just brighten the lights or did I see a spark in your eye?” The Doctor whispered, the words moving through the air like they alone had the power to carry you through the doors.

“I- I think you saw a spark, yeah,” you said. “I guess you’re right. And I guess I know, now, which voice is louder. “

“Yeah?” the Doctor said excitedly.

“Yeah!” You said with a smile. “Maybe I am ready to just get it over with. I think I’m ready to take the exam, Doctor. “

“Oh, you always were,” The time lord said with an exaggerated tone, pushing herself off of the chair. The movement pushed you further towards the doors, towards the inevitable that you were indeed ready for. “But I bet the extra rest was nice!”

You rose from the chair, watching the Doctor punch in the coordinates for the time and a date of your exam. How she knew of them already, you had no idea, but your heart warmed at the fact that she was so eager to take you.

Your heart was pounding and your stomach was contorting with nerves of all sorts. But you knew that they wouldn’t change anything. You were going to do your best on the exam, just as you had done with everything else in your academic career. Being reminded of the strength that you had, the knowledge that you had, and all of the distance you’d put behind you so far helped carry you out the door. 

You barely registered the Doctor’s “Good Luck!”

[missnight0wl]

Who do you think is the mole?

Merula is the mole

And I’m not saying that because everything bad has to be Merula. It truly makes the most sense, and as soon as I realised it, I was like: “Well, duh! Obviously!”. I’ll try to explain everything the best I can, but first, I want to address some basic things about the mole, proving that Alanza is probably NOT our culprit (as I believe she’s one of the most common suspects in fandom). I already talked about it a little in other posts, but I want to organise everything and maybe add something.

To begin with, there’s a lot of evidence that R is watching MC ever since they came to Hogwarts or at least Y2. There was someone contacting/controlling Ben when the cursed ice appeared. In Y3, we even got a warning Letter From No One:

In Y4, someone was controlling Ben again. In Y5, MC AND Ben were attacked by someone, and it’s still unknown whether or not they were under Imperius too. Someone unleashed a Dementor on Hogwarts, and R knew that MC defeated it as soon as it happened. Someone, who’s description fit a Red Cloak, moved the portrait which trapped Beatrice later.

And of course, each vault every year was allegedly tampered by someone, causing the new curse to occur. In Y5, someone made Rowan draw their wand on us, and while it was implied that it was Pettigrew, it was never confirmed. Either way, R had never problems to take actions at Hogwarts. Moreover, they seem to be well aware of our every move. MC also sometimes talks during classes that they feel like being watched. So, if R was successfully pulling strings all those years, even without Rakepick, why would they bother now to bring Alanza to the castle? Especially that there was a huge gap when Rakepick was already gone, but Alanza was still not there! It could’ve been as long as six months, judging by Ben’s comment before Rowan’s death that they’re well into the sixth year. And quite a lot happened in that time! For example, we found the letter from R to Jacob. There’s no way it was left by accident, and while it’s possible it was placed by Jacob himself, it doesn’t change the fact that R didn’t need Alanza for that. So, again, why would they need her exactly?

Admittedly, the way they talked about it in the recent chapter:

… does make it sound as if the mole is someone SENT by R. However, I believe it’s just unfortunate wording because in that case, it could be only Alanza (and as I said, it just doesn’t really make sense). Like, none of our friends was “planted” by R. Even if they were recruited before coming to Hogwarts, they were simply kids in school-age anyway. It could be about a teacher or something, but they’re all the books canon characters. Unless it’s about the new DADA professor we haven’t even seen yet, but I doubt it.

Now, I think we can all agree that the mole is most likely another student. Sure, an adult would have more influence among the staff, maybe access to more places, but they also wouldn’t get as close to MC, and I assume that’s the point – to know what MC’s doing. Although, when I’m looking at the examples I listed above, I have to say that it’s possible that there is somebody else involved (other than the mole), but still, one of our peers would be the best as the source of information. So, without further ado, let’s explain how Merula fits into that puzzle.

YEAR 1

From the very beginning, Merula talked badly about Jacob because of his obsession with the Cursed Vaults. But then, something’s changed after our first duel, and even MC pointed out how odd it was.

I wouldn’t be surprised if R reached Merula at some point before that conversation and convinced her that the Cursed Vaults are real and very much worth it to search for them. Alternatively, Merula knew about it already when she came to Hogwarts, and then it’s connected to the Devil’s Snare accident. This idea is based on my other theory that Jacob made a deal with R that he’d join them IF they wouldn’t hurt MC. The deal was valid for the first two years; however, if R used Merula to hurt/kill MC, their hands would technically be clean.

YEAR 2

I wrote about it in the past during my replay, but there’s quite a lot of material so I’ll just leave a link here. It’s very important for this theory, though, so please, go and read it to fully understand my thought process.

YEAR 3

This is the year when we found Jacob’s room. And if you claim that Merula can’t lie or hide important information: she can. She didn’t tell us about Jacob’s room for at least a year, and she probably wouldn’t tell at all if we didn’t find our brother’s notebook. Also, there’s a possibility that she took something from there:

Was she lying, though? What could she take? What did she do with it?

Later the same year, Merula was following us to the Library AGAIN (the Vault of Fear), as she was ALSO following us back in Y1. When you think about it, Merula follows MC quite a lot, also in later years… Eavesdropping on MC and Talbott, learning that we’re an Animagus (in the “Animagus Adventure SQ”, so separately from Talbott’s situation), sending Ismelda to eavesdrop on us when MC wanted to leave Hogwarts in Y6, following us when we practised Protego with Jacob… She also knows that she can manipulate MC emotionally. The Frog Choir TLSQ anyone? Even if she wasn’t lying then about her mother, she still had no problems to use her suffering to influence MC and get what she wanted.

YEAR 4

Well, as I mentioned in the post linked in YEAR 2, this is the year when Merula was openly working with Rakepick. If you want to believe that Rakepick is evil and was always a member of R, that’s pretty much it. Perhaps Merula wasn’t aware of that, but still.

Although, what I believe is that Rakepick wasn’t a member of R, but she knew they’re using Merula. Therefore, Patricia “took care” of her for two reasons: 1) so Merula stopped being a pain in the ass for MC, 2) so she could control R’s influence on Merula.

YEAR 5

Here’s where things got a bit complicated because of the events in the Portrait Vault, and a lot depends on what’s really going on with Rakepick. Still, here are some possible explanations:

If Rakepick is evil and Merula was really tortured: Rakepick used Crucio on Merula even though she’s their mole as a punishment for getting too attached to MC. I personally don’t feel close to Merula at all because Jam City fucked up her writing, and so I have no reasons whatsoever to like her. However, they basically skipped to MC and Merula being friends whether you like it or not, so here you are. And Merula was supposed to get close to MC but not like them.

If Rakepick is evil, but the torture was staged: R needed MC to suffer, but they didn’t want to actually hurt their mole.

If Rakepick is not evil: The torture was staged, but Rakepick told R that Merula should be punished for getting attached to MC (so R THOUGHT that Merula was really tortured but she wasn’t) OR they agreed to that, so they’ll make MC suffer without hurting their mole.

YEAR 6

Again, because it depends so much on what’s really happened in the Portrait Vault, it’s even more complicated than Y5, so… I’ll try to explain what I personally believe is going on.

Rakepick staged the torture scene with Merula, and no matter if R thinks it was real or not, she also instructed Merula to keep R believing that she’s their mole. Merula is still delivering R information, but perhaps it’s possibly limited or maybe she even lies about some things to them. I’m not sure what to do with Rowan’s death here (or “death”), but I don’t think Merula was expecting that. I imagine that she thinks that Rakepick screwed everyone over and plays on her own entirely. If that’s the case, she might want to continue to be R’s mole if she believes that it’ll help her expose Rakepick eventually. I mean, if she just told R: “Hey, she doesn’t really work for you”, Rakepick would probably weasel out of it somehow.

Merula being the mole also goes along with Jacob telling us about the assassin being after MC and Merula (Y6Ch6):

He apparently talked about the Wizard in White then, but now we know that he actually isn’t an assassin. So… how did Jacob make that mistake? I mean, if the Wizard in White wanted to take MC to R so they’d join them, they HAD TO have a similar approach towards Jacob. In fact, they wrote to Jacob about joining them after Duncan’s death. Why Jacob thought that they’d try to kill MC now?

Well, it’s simple: it’s not real Jacob and he works for R. Why R wanted MC to think that there’s an assassin after them, though? Well, it’s based on my old theory, but… I don’t buy that the Wizard in White is a member of R. I believe that he was supposed to help MC somehow. R wanted MC to know that there’s an assassin so they’d be distrustful towards new people (including the Wizard in White). What about Merula then? I see two explanations which could coexist: 1) R wanted to scare Merula so she wouldn’t reveal to MC that she’s the mole (when she heard about an assassin being after her, she could’ve connected the dots), 2) Merula is more impulsive than MC, so if she was expecting an assassin, she’d attack him with the intention to hurt or kill, getting rid of the Wizard in White and R’s problem.

(I know that the part about the assassin doesn’t work in the light of the recent chapter, but I’m still trying to figure it out, and I might write a separate post on how the Wizard in White is not a member of R.)

Also, not that it’s super solid evidence, but Merula was the one who suggested that the mole might be among the teachers:

Yeah, there’s some logic in that, but as I said at the beginning, I think we can all agree that it’s way more likely that the mole is a student. I’m not saying that Merula is trying to buy some time before she’s discovered, buuut…

Anyway, I’m almost certain that Merula is the mole. I even hope for that because it could be a very interesting plot: Merula who started from despising MC and wanting to harm them, starting to appreciate the value of friendship and questioning her actions. Of course, it’d be even more interesting if Jam City put any effort in her redemption arc, but oh well. It’s also kind of brilliant that Merula created that rivalry with MC when it comes to the Cursed Vaults, and she did it so well that we don’t even question WHY this rivalry exists. That maybe it’s just an excuse to gain information and pass it on. I mean, look at our conversation in “Flying Solo” TLSQ”:

Merula is so casual about it that MC is not even particularly concerned about her getting information on the Cursed Vaults. You know, they say the darkest place is under the candle...

[realityhelixcreates]

Lasabrjotr Chapter 41: Armor Amore

Chapters: 41/? Fandom: Thor (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe Rating: Teen And Up Warnings: None Relationships: Loki x Reader (Someday) Characters: Loki (Marvel), Thor(Marvel), Brunnhilde/Valkyrie(Marvel) Additional Tags: Post-Endgame: Best Possible Ending (Canon-Divergent), TBH Who Among Us Doesn’t Find Armor To Be A Little Erotic, Thor And Brunnhilde Are Still Big Gossips, If You Couldn’t Tell I’m Still A Big ThorJane Shipper, I Don’t Care What Happens In Thor Four:More Thor, I Still Like It. Summary: Loki make plans for your future protection, while Thor and Brunnhilde Gossip Some More.

Loki sat at his desk idly sketching out his ideas. You needed protection. Ideally, he would be able to surround you with an impenetrable wall of soldiers, but he couldn't trust his soldiers. Not with you.

He would have to screen special bodyguards for you, and make sure his entire entourage was both unswerving in their loyalty to him, and fiercely protective of you.

Until then, the best he could do was to commission some proper armor for you. A bigger challenge that he had initially expected: your smaller form meant that he couldn't just find something in the armory and have it altered for you. Unless there was some practice armor for adolescents out there somewhere,  he would have to order it made from scratch. The materials would have to be lightweight, no uru for certain. You were sturdy for a mortal, but you would simply never have anything akin to an Asgardian body.

He could have some leathers put together for you, something not unlike what he preferred to wear, though he would have to raid the armory again, and pull some scrap leathers to recycle their materials. The beasts of Alfheim that contributed their hides to Asgard's superior leather goods were no longer available, and the animals here, while serviceable, were simply inferior. He would not trust your precious self with inferior armor.

You would need more than one set. And since you could not yet call your clothing to your body, any armor would have to be easy to get into and out of, requiring only one, possibly two people.

The idea of helping you into-and out of-armor that he had designed for you rose unbidden to his mind. He sighed dreamily, pausing his sketching to flesh out the daydream.

Armor consisted of multiple layers; there was all the metal, of course, which went on top and served to look intimidating as well as protecting vital areas. You wouldn't wear much of that, only over the very vulnerable parts. Otherwise, it would get too heavy. He'd get you pieces of nornbein, if he could, since it was hard and strong, but also relatively lightweight for metal. Over your chest of course, and your back. There should be plates on the shoulders, the upper arms, the forearms. The parts most likely to be aimed for. These few, select pieces would be fastened on over the leathers, and each piece, he would teach you about while he put it on you...or took it off of you.

Then there were the leathers. There would be more of that; the material was more available, flexible, and lightweight. He'd have them closely tailored to you, for ease of movement and he would share his diagonal motif as well; it broke up the lines of the body, redirected and distracted the eyes, and also looked very good.

Depending on how it was put together, he could pull the leather pieces over your head, or wrap them around your body, and fasten them there. They would protect your flesh from the slashing of unjust blades, and they would look beautiful as well.

One had to wear a little padding underneath, to avoid chafing and pinching. Only the finest quilted Asgardain silk would grace your skin. He could just see it; how the quilting would round out and soften your form even more, how the soft, natural shimmer of the silk would make you shine like a polished gem. Silk was surprisingly tough, and resistant to piercing, even on this world. Tightly woven silk, with raw silk quilted between would offer you some protection from pointed weapons such as poisoned darts or hidden knives. It would also keep you nice and warm in the coming Icelandic winter. He didn't really feel the cold, but humans certainly did, and you weren't even someone who had lived here and gotten used to it. You would need all the warmth that could be provided: Thicker clothes, more blankets, his arms.

If you were amenable. He also had a fireplace, if you felt more comfortable there. And the bath, which he would still very much like to share with you, under better circumstances this time. Warm and steamy, with cleansing soaps and fragrant oils.

But first you had to recover, and he had to get you your armor.

He wished he could have stayed in the healing wing with you, but Bjarkhild had kicked him out, with orders to get food and rest in his own bed. But he missed you. He couldn't stop thinking about you, lying alone in the healing wing, your poor face bruised, and swollen, your poor head delicate, and healing so slowly. What if you woke up again, and he wasn't there?

A man had to be dependable, didn't he? If he was serious about a suit, he had to be. Loki didn't think he was unreliable exactly, but that he was selective about the people and subjects that he was reliable for. For you, he wanted to be someone you could depend on, for anything and everything.

He had no experience in this.

When he was much younger, he had thought to find a partner for himself, and to be the best possible partner available. He was a prince, he had the highest education, he could offer everything. This was long before he realized that he would never be a match for his brother in looks or popularity.

As he grew, his relationships had been few and infrequent, and always disappointing. He had a poets heart, but the only people who bothered to look at him were not really there for him. He became hard to approach.

Finally, he realized that, as the second son, he would be most useful in a political marriage, where love wasn't necessary, and that everything would be decided for him...so he had simply given up trying.

If not for his kingship and his continued mooning over his lost mortal lady, Thor would never have an empty bed. In fact, Thor had been sent crashing to Earth as a homeless, powerless, boorish drifter, and hadn't even spent an hour before he'd found someone willing to love him. Maybe he knew some things that could help Loki out. As long as those things didn't involved being born blessed and beautiful. There was nothing Loki was going to be able to do about that.

He began sketching again. You needed something for your head, a helmet of your own. Something that should be personalized just for you, so that any one who saw you would know who they were looking at. Something crown-like...

He was interrupted again, this time by Andsvarr entering the room, stiff as starched paper and carrying a bundle, wrapped in quality cloth.

Loki looked him over. “Well.” He said. “Out with it.”

“I bring a gift from the Garprlings. A blood-price for the lady.” Andsvarr announced, not looking Loki in the eye.

“...I took Alarr's sword hand.” Loki stated.

“And thus satisfied the insult done to yourself. This is specifically for the seidkona.”

Loki rose and took the bundle from Andsvarr. The cloth was a cloak, made of plush velvet, in a cool, minty green. It wrapped a partial set of armor, made primarily from nornbein and steel, sized for an adolescent.

“This is...fortuitous.” Loki said. “I see our thoughts are running along the same lines. Did this belong to you?”

“My second eldest brother.” Andsvarr said. “It was made for him upon his entry into guard training. It may need to be altered, but I think it is small enough.”

Loki set the pieces on his desk, next to his sketches. A steel and nornbein breastplate that would only cover the front, long, layered pauldrons in nornbein and good, Alfheim leather, that would reach nearly to your elbows, and a pair of nornbein bracers over worn leather half-gauntlets. All of those would likely need altering to fit you properly. There was a pair of steel greaves and poleyns for your knees, but both needed their leather backings and fastenings replaced. There was even a set of very flexible steel and leather tassets, that would not even require altering to fit you, they could just be tied around your waist like a belt.

“This is a very good start.” Loki said, blessing the stars that someone has seen fit to keep even a partial set of adolescent armor.

“No one argued when I took it. They know we owe her.”

“How have things been?” Loki asked casually, beginning a list of repairs and supplies for the new armor.

Andsvarr sighed and drew himself up. “Quiet. Our doors are closed. Mother has been turning away 'well-wishers' after the first few came with conspiracies and offers that would have caused more trouble. She is tired of all this. I am beyond tired of all this. These people seek only to use us, and it's been obvious from the start. But Father thought...I don't know. He thought something important would be lost, but I really don't understand his mind.”

“I know what it is that he fears.” Loki said. “And he is right to fear it, but wrong to believe that it will not come to pass. We will integrate. Our culture will change. There is no way around it. But the thing is, we need to change. We've needed it for a long time. My Father's prophesy is proof of that, I'm sure of it.”

“Father will never accept it I'm afraid.” Andsvarr said.

“That will not stop it from happening. All empires fall. No supremacy is truly eternal. The true measure of the people is how they persevere during the decline. As long as the people adapt and survive, they have a chance to rise again.” Loki gestured out his window. “You can see examples of this in high speed on this planet. Hundreds, perhaps thousands of nations and kingdoms have grown up and disappeared. Some survived through change, others suffered diaspora. Others crashed so hard that even their languages are lost. All on a planet of beings so brief that some of their greatest empires rose and fell within your lifetime, changing the landscape and culture around them, then retreating back to their homes. Their impact remains, and we should consider that, I think. What will our impact be? What do we want to leave behind, now that we are no longer the pinnacle of the realms? Is there anything we can do to remedy our mistakes?”

“Your Highness?”

“Just musing.” Loki patted the armor. “I made mistakes here. It cost lives. Maybe if I wasn't trying so hard to buck the Norns all the time, I might believe that she was brought to me by fate, so that I might make up for a fraction of what I did on this world.”

“Your Higness, I'm sorry. I should have realized something like this was coming, with the way he spoke of her.”

“You are absolved, Andsvarr. It was never your fight. Shouldn't have been hers, should have been mine alone. But she is part of my court now, and that exposes her. So we will cover her with armor. We are honored by your contribution.”

“Yes, your Highness.” Andsvarr said, taking his cue to leave.

           *****

“Well,” Thor said gleefully. “He's admitted it!”

“What? No way, she's only almost died like, three times.” Brunnhilde said. “When did he tell you?”

“Yesterday. She hadn't woken up yet, and the head healer had kicked him out for awhile.”

“Damn. I really thought it would take a lot longer than that...”

“Well, it didn't, and you know what that means.” He held his hand out. “I win. Hand it over.”

Grumbling, Brunnhilde removed a flask from her belt and gave it to him. “I guess I'm glad for him. Little sorry for him too. This probably isn't gonna be easy.”

“There is nothing easy or simple about mortals. Speaking of, I am thinking about allowing Trollekaerhalla to observe Buridag with us. Perhaps in their own, fenced off area, so that they can't get into trouble in the city.”

“That's gonna require so many guards.” Brunnhilde pointed out. “Otherwise, it sounds like a good starting point for familiarizing them with us. Sharing holidays and such. How are you going to make sure the other camps don't sneak in?”

“I'm not.” Thor said. “If they want to come and learn more about us, they can. Everyone will be checked for weaponry at the gate, of course. No signs, no masks, just holiday merriment. We could share samples of Asgardian food, maybe little cups of drink-”

“They will die.” Brunnhilde stated.

“Okay, maybe just hot chocolate. And they will get the opportunity to be present at _____'s official seidkona declaration. An historic moment when our peoples will join.”

A sudden sadness washed over his features.

“I wish Jane could be there.”

Brunnhilde rolled her eyes. “Why don't you just invite her then?”

“I can't. She's so busy, and I'm so busy, and that was part of the reason...Why would she even want to come? Her last experience with Asgard was so terrible. And then there was all the trouble with the Restoration...she consented to see me one more time, and she had to deal with that damn Stone again! I'm sure she thought I was just using her. She just wants a normal life as the worlds greatest scientist, and anytime she comes near me, she ends up in terrible danger.”

“Uh-huh, and your massive fear of rejection has nothing to do with it.”

“Well, would you want your ex showing up?”

“Yeah, actually.” Brunnhilde said. “I'd actually love that more than anything.”

Thor hung his head. “Forgive me. I spoke like a fool.”

“You sure did, but you get it, so that's good.” Brunnhilde clapped his shoulder. “Give it a little thought though. We need all the allies we can get, and the world's greatest scientist sounds like a good one to have.”

“It's so much easier to focus on Loki's love life.” He groused.

“Why? Did little brother used to be some kind of womanizer?”

“No, very much the opposite. He's very honorable, and subsequently, has very little experience. And he knows nothing of mortal courtships.”

“So he's going to be a total disaster.” Brunnhilde said. “Well, that will be entertaining at least.”

“Heartless wench.” Thor snorted.

“You know it.” Brunnhilde joked, clapping him on the shoulder again. Thor winced.

[melleonis]

What to Wear when Divorcing Your Husband

- article from Arktika, Winter 2016

Gentle reader, as you know, we at Arktika try to avoid writing anything which could be considered either “useful” or “advice”, preferring to leave such fare for your typical supermarket check-out “ladies’ mag”, but our hand, regrettably, has been forced in this instance by a deplorable trend in recent days, which is, simply put, that all too many women, otherwise adequate in matters of fashion, when confronted with the task of selecting an ensemble to wear to divorce proceedings, absolutely crumble, committing inexcusable blunders - the cost of which, in lost alimony, objets d’art, boats, cars, and lake houses - but far more importantly, in wounded pride and injuries to one’s self-respect - totaled across all such proceedings, cannot be overstated, and which could be easily and directly remedied were the would-be divorcées to heed a simple set of instructions such as the following:

I. Every choice you make, in apparel or accessories or demeanor, has the twofold goal of projecting your own certainty in the rightness and inevitability of what you are owed, and sowing confusion and doubt in the heart of your soon-to-be ex-husband. It is easy to fall into the trap of thinking of your trial as a simple demonstration of the merits of your case to an impartial judge. Nothing could be further from the truth: the judge is all-but-irrelevant, and your contest is with your once-husband. Plague him with uncertainties. Keep him off balance. Eventually, he will err, and the day (and the yacht) will be yours. It is another trap to play to the pity of the judge. Oh, it may well procure material gain, at least in the short term, but remember that once you leave court, you still need to be able to look your peers in the eye, and how can you do that after teary-eyed groveling appeals in front of, not only the judge, but your ex-husband, your attorneys, your personal assistant, and the inevitable society reporters as well? You cannot; fire any attorney who suggests such a thing. Lastly, do not conflate “certainty” with “confidence”. Confidence is a mere projection of strength, and cannot compete with the bedrock of certainty that you will get what is coming to you as surely as the sun rises.

II. Sunglasses are a must. This confuses some women. You do not wear sunglasses in court - and rightly so. You do, however, wear sunglasses into court, and cases are won and lost in the first five seconds. When you walk into the courtroom, your former partner will be scrutinizing your face for any hint as to your emotional state. Deny him. Understandably, some women feel they must “economize” under the uncertainty and strictures of a looming divorce; we have sympathy for these women, even if we cannot truly understand their position. If you must use thrift, the sunglasses are an obvious choice. As long as they do not look cheap or clash with anything else you are wearing, that will be fine. You absolutely cannot skimp on the sunglasses case, however. They must be designer; prepare to spend at least $150 on them.

III. You do have to purchase all-new clothes. This may seem excessive, but remember that the goal is to confound your opponent. Any article of clothing he recognizes, and God forbid any article of clothing he purchased for you, is a small constant: a connective ligament between who you were when he knew you and who you are now. Sever all such ties. Similarly, you will have to radically change your hair. If you have been wearing your hair at shoulder-length or longer, consider an asymmetrical bob. If your hair is chin-length, consider a boyish short cut. For heaven’s sake do not shave or “buzz” your head, however - that is a sign of grief or instability. IV. For your first divorce, keep it simple. A charcoal suit is fine. A black suit is better. Fitted, but not too fitted. We recommend straightforward pumps with no more than a three-inch heel, neither chunky nor stiletto. Oxfords should only be attempted if you are absolutely secure in your posture and bearing. Accessorize with plain jewelry - gold or silver, depending on your skin tone. You will have heard of other women who met with great success using other, more outré strategies - the black hooded cloak of an ill-omened prophet-bird, or the wild hair and ragged grey-green tuille of a sea witch, or completely nude. We cannot emphasize enough that these strategies are under no circumstances for beginners. There are far too many variables to consider, the stakes far too great, to attempt anything experimental. The sea witch only works in maritime court, which you are unlikely to see unless the whole of the proceedings revolve around the disposition of various boats; the otherworldly nature of the prophet-bird can be completely undercut should the proceedings take a turn for the squalid or ugly, which is frankly likely; and nudity can only even be considered with irreproachable cheekbones and a bearing that causes men instinctually to kneel at your passing. Stick to the basics for your first time round.

V. Avoid anything too sexy - for yourself. Your husband has likely seen you naked. If he can connect that image to the woman opposite him in court, that is an unacceptable fragment of continuity. Hold yourself aloof and unattainable. It should seem more likely to him that he dreamt or imagined your marriage than that he could ever have been with you. However, that pencil skirt and strappy sandals which you should not be wearing are ideal for your personal assistant. Again, it is important that she be wearing nothing your husband has ever seen her wear, but if she has been fiscally prudent and properly anticipatory of your needs, this should pose no difficulty. The distraction she will provide is valuable in and of itself, but consider - if you are comfortable with it - displaying a hairsbreadth more affection toward her than is entirely proper. No need for anything ribald; a simple half-second touch to the back of her hand, a meaningful look which lasts slightly longer than it needs to - these should suffice. This tactic will crack the composure of even the most hardened exes, and whatever whispers of it make its way through your peer group or even the society papers are very likely, in this era, to be more beneficial than damaging.

VI. You do have to hire a violinist to play Shinsuke Nakamura’s entrance theme when you walk in. However, do not think you have to hire, say, Midori or an artist of equal standing. The benefits of so demonstrating the depth of your resources and the breadth of your social connections will be overshadowed by the risk of you yourself being overshadowed during your entrance. This would be fatal. Any promising and presentable young Juilliard student will do perfectly well. Please remember that you are not performing Shinsuke Nakamura’s entrance - you are entering to Shinsuke Nakamura’s entrance theme. Dear reader, you are not a professional athlete, and death drops - even if somehow executed flawlessly in heels - are inadmissible as evidence. A level pace, a few measured words with your attorneys, a shared moment with your personal assistant - all undertaken with grace and composure - these will be amplified by the violin backdrop. Do make sure the young man or woman in question is capable of sitting quietly and without fidgeting. VII. Legal is requiring us to state that none of this advice will work for short women. It should go without saying that if you stand under 5′8″, all of the above advice is worthless to you. If you are such a woman and have somehow managed to acquire this copy of Arktika, please let us know so that we can fire our market research team.

You’re welcome, and happy divorcing.

[orangedodge]

Instead of flooding my blog with a deluge KH posts, I figured I'd do just one in-depth one about the end reveal.  

At least until the next trailer comes out, and my inner nine year old breaks out once again.

So despite Nomura's limitations as a writer, and his occasional technical naivete, I've always been a bit surprised that he's never really given his due as a director. He has good storytelling instincts, and can be skilled at framing information on screen to highlight what he wants, while making his audience ignore what he doesn't want them to pay attention to. His team can also cut a trailer very well. The 2.8 trailers were masterful at presenting actual spoilers, but framed within an artificial context that hid their meaning, and led to the audience anticipating story beats that did not actually exist. The respective natures of Aced and Gula as people, in particular, was something he was highly successful at concealing.

E3 trailer spoilers below the cut

The first E3 trailer drop, which I think we're calling the "Frozen" trailer, reminds me a lot of what he did last time, with those 2.8 trailers. The reveal at the end, and it's implication that Aqua is now evil, is driven by two lines,

SORA - "I wont let her fall to darkness"

and

AQUA - "You're too late"

The combination is framed to suggest that it's specifically too late for Aqua, but as these lines occur in two entirely different scenes, and this structure is unlikely to be preserved in the actual game, the thematic bridge they create is an artificial one. It's unknown what the full context of each scene actually is, particularly the latter scene with Mickey, Aqua, and Riku. Instead, Aqua's lines are being set up with by potentially false context by Sora.

What actually happens in that scene? I think the position of landmarks, and the continuity in way the scene is lit, is sufficient to establish that it most likely takes place within the same span of time as the previous trailer's Riku and Mickey scene, in which Riku's Way to Dawn Keyblade was broken.

By combining the two Riku scenes, I would posit that the chain of events is as follows: Riku and Mickey arrive at the Dark Margin > Aqua attacks them in her new shadow form > Mickey is disarmed, and Riku's Keyblade broken > Aqua stops fighting and reveals herself > Aqua picks up Mickey's Keyblade.

If the line "This Keyblade..." is native to that scene, and not something that was simply placed out of context in the trailer to create false context (a trick Nomura used with Phantom Aqua's dialogue in the 2.8 trailers), then it could be possible that she didn't recognize her opponents until she saw that Keyblade. Either way, I believe it's likely that she fought them until they were both disarmed, whereupon she stopped, and revealed herself to them.

Two things grabbed my attention,

Is breaking Way to Dawn, the Keyblade with one of Xehanort's creepy time-travel spy eyes (that we've been warned about), actually an inherently aggressive act? She appears to have been completely shrouded/cloaked in darkness, if not actually invisible (if that was a Red Eyes effect Mickey was under), when she arrived. Assuming that the two Riku clips are in fact one continuous scene, than it seems as though she didn't let them see her until that Keyblade was out of the way.

Why pick up Mickey's Keyblade? It was established ages ago that a Keyblade can't be stolen from its wielder, so unless that's being retconned, I don't see why she'd benefit from picking it up unless to demonstrate to them that she's still capable of doing so. And that's being done in a state where she's not just possessed by darkness, but seems to have been totally transformed into it. The only precedents I can think of for that are Anti-Sora and Ansem. Anti-Sora didn't have access to Keyblades, and Ansem could only wield one through Riku's body (and presumably Riku’s heart, since he lost his access to the Keyblade once he cast that away).

So is Aqua currently fallen to darkness? Almost definitely, unless this is just Phantom Aqua messing with Mickey, or a physical manifestation of an impression she left behind when she lived there, or the result of some unique circumstance like Aqua-removed-her-Heart-from-her-body or Aqua's-looking-for-Ven-in-the-realm-of-sleep that that would render her condition a temporary side effect.

Is she 'norted? It seems probable, but I'm not one-hundred per cent sure that it actually follows from what's been shown. Xehanort's never shown the ability to discorporate into dark fog or become invisible, I mean, and it seems like that would be a fairly useful ability to make use of if he had it. It seems not unreasonable to assume that it's therefore an ability newly unique to Aqua, and not something connected to a 'norting. I'm going to leave the changers to her hair aside because it's appeared that shade before (for example, in the daylight Wayfinder sequence at the start of the 0.2 trailer), and I'm not sure how much of the color change is being influenced by the lighting conditions, or even if the lighting is finished. The eyes seem like a big give away that she's 13th 'nort, as we've only ever seen glowing amber eyes in humans with Xehanort's vessels... but we don't actually know why he has those traits in the first place.

It could be nothing of consequence, just a unique aspect of his character design that made an easy shorthand for showing who he was possessing. Or it could be that amber eyes are actually meant to represent something in this setting (connection to Heartless?), and what specifically that is just hasn't come up yet, except as through the brothers and sisters 'nort. So it's possible that her eyes don't really mean what we assume they do, and it's just a fun way to use the trailer to mess with us.

(And because this series is so weird, it may also be worth remembering that incomplete beings have been shown to take physical forms influenced by the expectations of the people viewing them. Think Xion's magic flippy-floppy hood, or Aqua perceiving Ansem as Terra. So depending on what the meaning of Aqua's shadow form actually is, the way she appears to Mickey might not be what she actually looks like, as opposed to just the material consequence of how he expects her to look, reflected back upon his own reality. I... ugh. This series is something else.)

(There's also a possible exception to the only-'norts-have-glowing-eyes rule with Terra, who did have glowing amber eyes before he was 'norted, but portions of those cut scenes may now be apocryphal)

But even if Aqua is 'norted, does it automatically follow that she's now an evil puppet of the arch villain’s? I'm going to just throw this out there, and give a hard no. Could be! She could be evil now, she could even be a boss fight and a resulting fetch quest to fix her Wayfinder to bring her back to normal, or be a recurring super boss introduced to give the heroes someone more threatening to fight than Vexen and Marluxia, or anything else. But it's not absolutely necessary and it's a truly strange assumption to make, given past experiences with 'norts and people consumed by darkness.

Riku was 'norted for... really the entirety of the first three games in one way or another, and after a few initial close calls, he got his second wind, and was fine. Vanitas and Braig both seem to do whatever they want; it just so happens that they want to be evil, but I don't think Xehanort has ever shown any supernatural capacity—resorting instead to threats and possible torture—to modify their behavior if they wander off to undermine him. Terra is... well his body has been possessed for decades now, but also obviously is not being controlled in any meaningful way, unless Xehanort actually planned to choke himself and get whipped in the face by chains. Axel also didn't seem to have any problems with just throwing Xehanort out, when he was a heartless shell that theoretically had compromised means of resisting a takeover.  

So Xehanort is clearly not always in complete control of his vessels, other than Young Xeno (himself), Ansem (his own literal heart), and maybe Xemnas (some proportion of his own heart in Terra’s empty body), who could all be unique exceptions. And even the vessels that have been with him the longest have habit of doing as they please. I should find it strange should Aqua be the absolute only exception in the series. And thinking on it, all that's really said of the final confrontation is that you have 13 seekers and 7 guardians... but there's not really a rule that they have to form two opposed teams and stick to them no matter what.

To just fly off into blind speculation though, what I'm personally leaning towards is the possibility that Aqua has just become a part of the realm of darkness. That Mickey is “too late” to reach her before a point of no return, and now she just cannot leave. She doesn't sound particularly angry, or upset to see him. It sounds like she's just stating a fact, or just speaking with resignation. Mickey and Riku, in the clip where Way to Dawn is shown broken, also do not seem as defeated as one might expect them to if they had experienced complete and total failure. They seem pretty sure of themselves, whatever has happened.

I'm hesitant to add this in, given my own bias, but it actually seems not unlike they're saying goodbye. Perhaps just letting go of something, if they've failed and are moving on, or if Riku is just saying goodbye to the chapter of his life represented within Way to Dawn. Or they could be getting ready to split up.  

I've seen a lot of speculation, that I think rings true, that Disney would prefer for Mickey to not be involved in the final fight, whacking recognizable humans in the face with a sword-like weapon. The rumor's line of reasoning follows that he needs to be swapped out for someone else, and Aqua seems like the most fitting possibility. Maybe literally? One stays, so another can go? Thematically, she took on Terra's punishment for him, trapping her there in the first place. Mickey taking it on for her, so she can leave, would be a fitting continuation. And it seems to be what he wants. Edgy, traumatized, Mickey Mouse is a weird concept to introduce to a story, but it almost pulls it off where his trauma re: Aqua is concerned. This is clearly meant to be the great unhealed wound in his life, and to not just free his friend, but take her place in the underworld for a while is one way to help him patch it.