#then I’d have to explain a very convoluted fanfic

[amoritasart]

Super old sketches of an AU idea I liked quite a bit.

[bingoboingobongo]

romeo and juliet

Pairing: Fezco (Euphoria) x Reader

Type: Fluff

Summary: Fezco sees her at his store for the first time, and he can’t help but let himself fall in love.

Word Count: 1.3k

Warnings: feminine pronouns used (she/her), brief references to romeo and juliet (you don’t need any prior understanding of the book)

A/N: hii, so this is like the first fanfic i’ve written ever, so idk if it will qualify as a “good” fanfic. also i’m brand new to posting on tumblr so you’re gonna have to bear with me here. thank you for reading, likes/reblogs and constructive criticism are always appreciated :)

Masterlist

Fezco never got around to reading Romeo and Juliet. He had dropped out of school before it became required reading, and quite frankly, he had no interest in reading almost five hundred pages of convoluted nonsense. He did, however, understand the basic plot. A guy, Romeo, quickly falls in love with a girl, Juliet, but before their love can truly blossom, it’s cut short by the tragic blade of death. It’s a timeless tale that’s been hammered into his brain through tacky remakes and boring English lessons.

He couldn’t help but think of the Shakespearean classic as he stared curiously at the girl standing in front of him. He had never seen her before, but she was a welcome sight to sore eyes that were constantly subjected to the scrutinizing stares he received from his typical patrons. She wasn’t wearing anything particularly special, just sweatpants and a tight crop top, but the way the fluorescent lights seemed to create a halo around her head, combined with the fact that her voice sounded like a literal muse, made Fezco certain that she was an angel sent from God himself. He wondered if this was how Romeo felt when he first met Juliet, star-struck and in awe at the sight that stood before him.

“Do you think I could get a pack of gum too?” she asks, pulling Fezco out of his thoughts and into the present. He looks at her blankly, mind racing in a fruitless attempt to process what she just said.

“Sorry?” he finally spits out after what feels like hours.

“A pack of gum. Can I get a pack of gum?” she asks again, brows knitted together in confusion.

“Oh. Yeah, uh, what flavor you want?”

“Just mint will do.”

“Aight, here you go,” he replies, pulling a pack of peppermint gum off the shelf behind him. He hands her the gum and when her hand just so happens to brush past his, he swears that he feels sparks racing up his arm and down his spine. “That it?” he asks, trying to ignore the disappointment that creeps into the back of his mind when she nods her head. “Aight, that’ll be twelve dollars,” he relays as he tallies up the cost of her items. He looks down at his feet and mentally chides himself for feeling so enraptured by someone he just met, someone that he would probably never see again, knowing his luck. Against his better judgment, he takes one last look at her as she searches for her wallet in her bag. “You a reader?” he prompts, desperate for another chance to hear her voice.

“What?” she responds, confusion painted on her face.

“Your bag, you got a book in there,” Fez quickly explained, suddenly aware of the fact that he probably looked like a creep looking in her bag. He held his breath as he watched her register what he just said, praying that whatever God had sent her would not be so cruel as to take her away.

“Oh, yeah, yeah, I’m a reader. Well, I’m trying to be at least, I used to read all the time when I was younger but somewhere along the way I just…stopped I guess. I’m trying to get back into that habit. I haven’t been very successful,” she admitted, letting a smile grace her features. 

“You’re good,” Fez chuckled, “what you reading?”

“Romeo and Juliet,” she answered.

“For real?” Fezco asked, surprised that anyone would willingly subject themselves to that torture.

“Yes, and before you start making fun of me, I’d like to make it known that it’s actually got a pretty good plot. Granted, I can barely understand anything they’re saying, but I would be lying if I said I don’t enjoy reading it. Maybe you should check it out, we could start a book club,” she joked; a smile tugging on the corners of her mouth.

“Maybe, I don’t know if I could keep up with a smart girl like you though."

“Yeah, I don’t know if smart is the word I would use to describe myself."

“You gotta give yourself more credit ma, you deserve it.” 

“Funny, that’s exactly what my therapist said,” she quipped as she pulled out three five-dollar bills, “here, you can keep the change.” Fezco took the money from her outstretched hand and filed it into the register next to him. He watched her close her wallet as he bagged her items, handing them across the glass counter and into her hands. 

Fezco wouldn’t describe himself as impulsive; he wasn’t cold and calculating like some corrupt businessman, but he liked to put some thought into the actions he took. There were a lot of things he had to consider; who would it help, who would it hurt, would it affect his future, would it be worth it? Despite his calm demeanor, he constantly felt as though there was a typhoon of thoughts swirling around his brain. So when he decided, in the spur of the moment, to ask the girl in front of him for her name, he felt as if somebody else had taken control over his mind and body. He sucked in a breath as he watched her decide whether or not she was going to comply with his request. 

She looked up from her phone and stared at him curiously. Had it been any other girl he might have felt creeped out, but he couldn’t blame her when he was doing the exact same thing. After what felt like an excruciatingly long time, which was more likely just a few seconds, she obliged, letting her name slip out of her lips. 

He didn’t often think much about names, in his mind they were just meaningless words people went by. A random combination of letters that were probably picked out of some cookie-cutter mommy blog, a moniker that really didn’t have much meaning in regards to who someone was as a person. He couldn’t say that about her name. It seemed to fit her perfectly, like a tailored glove made for a queen. He didn’t know anything about her, but he knew that her name encapsulated everything about her personality perfectly, an entire story beautifully told through the letters and sounds that formed her name. He repeated it out loud, relishing in how it felt on his tongue. “That’s a pretty name,” he replied earnestly.

“Thank you,” she said, a large smile plastered on her face. “You?”

“Fezco, but you can just call me Fez,” he answered, excited that she had seemed curious about him, even if it was just pleasantries.

“Fez, that’s a pretty cool name,” she remarked. “Well, thanks for helping me, Fez. Have a nice night.”

“You too ma. See you ‘round,” he replied, grateful that her back was turned so she couldn’t see the childish grin plastered on his face. He watched her get into her car and drive off like a love-struck teenager with a high school crush. Running a hand over the top of his head, he whispered her name to himself again, repeating it over and over like a prayer. 

Fezco considered himself to be a realist, it wasn’t something he had consciously decided to be, but rather a product of his cruel, unfortunate childhood. He knew that he had been dealt bad cards in life, and he knew that he couldn’t change the deck. He also knew that she probably wasn’t interested in him, how could she be? She looked like she had been sculpted by the hands of Aphrodite herself; she probably had guys much better than him begging for a chance to talk to her. Fezco considered himself to be a realist, but that night, as he was ordering more stock for his store, he added something else to his typical order. A fresh copy of Romeo and Juliet.

[worstloki]

F, V, W for the fanfic ask?

F: Share a snippet from one of your favorite dialogue scenes you’ve written and explain why you’re proud of it.

I don't have 'favourite' dialogue scenes, so I've picked a random one that's unposted

this is from the 20k tesseroki fic i never posted bc it was too wholesomely self-indulgent. now it's being reworked into a dark!tess fic out of spite.

“Ah.”

Tess hears Loki exhale heavily and then there’s silence; trepidation accompanies every heart-like beat as he waits for an answer, for he does not think that can be all.

“...I am not sure that I do as well,” Loki eventually confesses. “I do love you, and likely far more than I should a friend, but I... I don’t know. I don’t really want anything more, nor would I exactly recommend expecting that to change.”

“What if I don’t want anything more?” he asks, hopeful.

Loki scoffs harshly. “That negates the point.”

“What if I’d just like to hold hands more often, or the right to show off you’re mine, or an excuse upon which to blame stealing space in your bed?”

“I can hardly stand to be in the same room as myself.” Loki is calm but there is tension in the air, his voice quavers ever so slightly, his magic coils tight around his core as if braced for an expected blow. “I assure you anything more than what we have would be a lost bargain.”

Tess considers letting the odd vehemence stay, but decides it would be better not to. It was not as if he would force Loki into anything, or as if what he feels for him is transactional besides, and he’d be happy to remain friends—he loves their friendship—but from what he understands, mortals and Aesir both have convoluted concepts of what more means.

It is an honourary title at best and an unfulfilled promise at worst.

“We wouldn’t have to change anything,” Tess insists firmly. He disregards bringing up that they do already in all technicality share a bed. Loki has an aversion to speaking of it. Tess does particularly use it for sleep more often with Loki being right there, however.

“I can assure you with large amounts of certainty that I will not reciprocate love that equals yours,” Loki warns, stonily.

“Loki,” Tess laughs softly, squeezing the hand in his, “Love isn’t an amount, and if it were, it would not differentiate by type.”

“I know that,” he snaps. “It’s just embarrassing to explain that I don’t fall in love.”

“I will love that which you want to give and that which you don’t.”

“What if it’s not about wanting, or what if I have nothing I want to give.”

“Then I’ll savour that too,” Tess replies heartily. He looks at Loki hoping he knows that he understands— and he does: that people love differently and he may be overwhelmed by this progression.

“This won’t end well,” Loki mutters.

“Only one way to find out,” Tess says, happy to have gotten Loki to agree.

V: If you could write the sequel (or prequel) to any fic out there not written by yourself, which would you choose?

Currently I want the presumably post-Ragnarok recovery fic of something along the lines of noncon/dubcon grandthorki - All the such fics I’ve seen end after the secxy stuff, and in some cases emotional turmoil too, but I want them to figure out how to be bros again after both the years gap before Ragnarok and the events on Sakaar. Just... where do they go from there. I want others having no idea why Thor and Loki are acting strange and how they get used to being around each other again. All the recovery through their issues in the sweet sweet setting of the Statesman where Bruce Heimdall and Valkyrie are around managing their own things but also going 👀 at them because they don't know. All while Thor and Loki try co-ruling without breaking down every afternoon and are forced to try and support each other when neither is in a decent mindset to do so.

An example of such fics are keep me forever, tell me you want me and love you, but I'm going down by Lise but since I'm not very into writing explicit stuff it'd be a sequel :P

Obviously I’m more comfortable with writing crack though so the ones I'll actually end up writing continuations/prequels for in the foreseeable future are all comedy :D

W: Do you like more general prompts, or more specific ones?

Either are good! I think specific ones make it easier to follow the prompt without going a completely unexpected direction, but I prefer general ones because you can take them in completely unexpected directions :)

[immaturityofthomasastruc]

(Accidental 150 Follower Special) IOTA's Top 10 Worst Episodes of Miraculous Ladybug (Part 1)

If you saw one of my earlier posts, an anon asked what my favorite and least favorite episodes of Miraculous Ladybug were. So, I decided to make a little list explaining the best and worst this show has to offer.

A few quick ground rules here. I'm not going to list any episodes I had previously talked about in some of my other posts. This includes “Kung Food”, “Animaestro”, “Syren”, “Reflekdoll”, “Chameleon”, and most of the episodes relating to Chloe's “damnation arc” that Astruc planned since he first created the character (“Despair Bear”, “Queen Wasp”, “Malediktator” and “Battle of the Miraculous”). Also, I'm not counting the specials, mainly because aren't listed as episodes, and because I don't want to talk about them.

Other than that, anything goes, so let's get things started with the worst list.

These are the Top 10 Worst Episodes of Miraculous Ladybug (in my personal opinion because your opinion is also valid)

#10: Stormy Weather 2

“Stormy Weather” was the very first episode of the show, and it really made a good impression on new viewers. So naturally, when it was announced that Stormy Weather would return, fans were excited. Then when the episode aired, Hawkmoth gave her even more powers, including the power to create a volcano big enough to potentially knock the planet out of orbit when it erupts. So Ladybug and Cat Noir have no choice but to stop the villain once again.

What does this plot lead to?

Yep, this episode is nothing more than a clip show. I understand that clip shows and bottle episodes are a necessary evil, but why would you set up something this awesome with a fan-favorite Akuma like Stormy Weather, and then not even bother to show it?

This episode is yet another attempt at showing that the show totally has character development. The whole reason Aurore is Akumatized into Stormy Weather again is because Chloe says that people can't change because Astruc (who was one of the four people writing this episode) is determined to make you hate this teenage girl more than the main villain of the show.

So of course, everyone spends most of the episode talking about how much they've changed, which is represented through clips of past episodes that do a horrible job at actually conveying any development.

According to Marinette, Adrien has “become a friend she can talk to about anything, except when it comes to her feelings for him”. Ah yes, you can tell they're friends by the fact that they barely hang out together, much less share a conversation because the writers are going to drag out the whole “Marinette stammering in front of Adrien” until they get tired of it. So basically, never.

All Alya and Nino talk about is how Ladybug helped them become a couple, and become superheroes, even though neither of those are actually related to character development. Though that is a fitting metaphor for the way both of their personalities have basically devolved to “the couple”.

Chloe talks about how nicer she's gotten, while footage of her doing awful things is played. I wonder who wrote that part in...

Even Ladybug and Cat Noir talk about how much they've grown and how stronger they've gotten, as opposed to focusing on STOPPING ANOTHER ICE AGE FROM HAPPENING. How can Hawkmoth even think this will get him the Miraculous? Yeah, sure I guess he can get them from the frozen corpses of our heroes, but what then? He still doomed humanity, and I don't think he can reverse the damage like Ladybug.

Towards the end, the clip show becomes slightly interesting, as Adrien mentions an unsigned card he got for Valentine's Day in “Dark Cupid”, and how similar the handwriting looks to Marinette's.

Does this lead to Adrien figuring out Marinette has feelings for him? Is the sky bright red? Both of these questions have the same answer.

Yeah, out of nowhere, Adrien just mentions Luka, who wasn't mentioned at all in this episode, and immediately thinks Marinette is in love with him. And that's how the episode ends.

I put this at the bottom of the list because I don't think it's completely fair to judge clip shows, but even some clip shows at least try to put in some effort and justify the clips, like what The Legend of Korra and some seasons of Power Rangers did. And the fact that the whole point of the episode is a poor excuse to claim that there's character development in the show only makes it even more infuriating.

Oh my God, this is only Number 10...

#9: Oblivio

While I already talked about “Cat Blanc”, this episode shares a similar theme as that episode: Giving viewers what they've wanted for three seasons, Marinette and Adrien finally learning each other's identity and starting a romantic relationship... only for the reset button to be once again slammed, making the entire episode pointless.

The only difference is that unlike in “Cat Blanc”, where there was an actual love confession that made sense, here, Marinette and Adrien find out the other's identity when they get their memories wiped by the Akuma of the week, Oblivio.

From then on, it's just fanservice. Instead of actually developing the relationship between Marinette and Adrien, the writers just decide to cram an entire episode worth of Adrienette content into a single episode just to tide fans over. Marinette and Adrien seriously fall in love despite only knowing each other for like, an hour at most. And the fact that the writers undo all the romantic progress of the episode makes it come across as pointless.

But the ending is what really cements this episode's spot on the list. As soon as Oblivio is defeated, Alya takes a picture of Ladybug and Cat Noir kissing without their consent and then rubs it in Ladybug's face.

Even though Ladybug doesn't know the circumstances (she has no memory of the events of the episode), this was still an invasion of her privacy, and she looks horrified by the picture that Alya is obviously going to post on her blog.

And of course, Cat Noir is more than happy to see it, ignoring how Ladybug feels and claims that they'd make a great couple. Because everyone knows good couples are formed by someone gaslighting the other into going out with them.

But wait, it gets better! In the next scene, we learn that Alya and Nino were akumatized into Oblivio... because they were caught in an embarrassing situation by their peers.

Alya: Remember when we visited Montparnasse Tower? Well, we went and hid to play Super Penguino, but Ms. Bustier caught us, and...

Nino: And you guys made fun of us for playing that game, saying it wasn't our age and all.

Alya: We were totally embarrassed at getting caught.

This was my thought process when I first heard Alya and Nino's explanation.

How can Alya claim to take a compromising picture of Ladybug, ignore how she feels, and not realize the similarity from when she and Nino were akumatized? This is what completely killed Alya for me in canon. This was the point where I couldn't care less if Marinette was friends with her or not. Sure, there are still fanfics, but those actually portray her with some kind of conscious. So to summarize, Fanon Alya is awesome, but I hope Canon Alya's 4G plan runs out.

This episode is just forgettable, but the ending made things worse. Apart from, I guess the action scenes and some funny jokes, this episode has no redeeming qualities. Like, literally the best thing to come from this episode was @miraculouscontent​‘s LadyBugOut AU, as it actually addressed the hypocrisy of Alya's character, among other problematic aspects of the show.

#8: Oni-Chan

Just a heads up, most of the episodes on this list are from Season 3. Just want to give you an idea of what to expect.

This episode is about Lila tricking Adrien into helping with her homework, when she is only doing it to get closer to Adrien. Marinette tries to spy on the two and stop Lila from hurting Adrien... even though she knows Adrien is aware that Lila is a liar, and is visibly uncomfortable around her.

And because the episode spends so much time on Marinette following Adrien and Lila, the buildup to Kagami getting akumatized is incredibly rushed. Seriously, she gets a single line of dialogue before she gets akumatized, and the motive is ridiculous too. Lila sends a picture of her forcing a kiss on Adrien, and Kagami immediately bursts into tears at the sight of it.

But wait, it gets better! When Kagami is akumatized into Oni-Chan (the writers know that's a term used for males in Japan, right?), she turns into a psycho hellbent on killing Lila because “Adrien doesn't deserve her”. Most of her dialogue is her saying how much she loves Adrien, making her come across as, for lack of a better word, a yandere.

This episode just destroys Kagami's character, making her as unlikable as Katie Killjoy in the process. If it wasn't for “Ikari Gozen” actually treating her like a human being (obviously Astruc's planned character development from the beginning), I'd completely hate her.

It also shows how much of an evil genius Lila is, as she has the brilliant idea to convince Oni-Chan to kill the only person capable of saving her from the Akuma's wrath. And this somehow gives Hawkmoth the idea to forge an alliance with Lila. It's also another reason why I believe in Darwinism.

This episode is low on the list because it does have a few redeeming qualities, like Lila facing consequences for lying, however brief they may be, and it has a great character moment with Adrien realizing on his own how terrible Lila really is, a far cry from what he was like in “Chameleon”.

Other than that, it's pretty bad, and still deserves a spot on this list.

#7: Antibug

HA! I said MOST of the episodes involving Chloe's “Damnation Arc” wouldn't be on this list, but not ALL OF THEM, so this one counts! Take that, convoluted rules I made up for some reason!

What was I talking about again? Oh right, “Antibug”. Oh crap, “Antibug”...

This is one of of several episodes in Miraculous Ladybug that really should have been a two-parter. It tries to be daring and includes two Akumas in one episode, but both of them are poorly executed.

An invisibly entity starts harassing Chloe, so Ladybug and Cat Noir start an investigation. It turns out to be Chloe's lackey Sabrina, who was akumatized after a falling out between the two. Well, I say “falling out” lightly, because what actually happened was that Chloe and Sabrina were cosplaying as Ladybug and Cat Noir, Chloe pretended to be the real deal while crashing an interview with Jagged Stone before Sabrina accidentally blew her cover, causing Chloe to be humiliated on TV and end her “friendship” with Sabrina.

Ladybug learns this from Chloe's butler, while Chloe never mentions the incident. So when Ladybug and Cat Noir engage the Akuma, Ladybug ignores Chloe's advice on where the corrupted object, naturally not trusting her judgment. And this is portrayed as a bad thing.

This episode is the start of a long-running trend in Miraculous Ladybug: Marinette needing to learn a lesson, while Adrien/Cat Noir is the one to help teach that lesson.

Chloe did nothing to help, only made things worse, and lied about why Sabrina got akumatized. It's kind of obvious why Ladybug wouldn't trust her word. The whole point of The Boy Who Cried Wolf wasn't to trust the liar after all.

But if that was all the episode did, it wouldn't be on the list, because now, the narrative wants to make the audience feel bad for Chloe before she gets akumatized into Antibug... who is just a lazy palette swap because new character models are expensive.

This part of the episode isn't nearly as bad as the first half, but like “Oni-Chan”, Chloe's akumatization is incredibly rushed, and we don't really get a chance to sympathize with her before she goes full Antibug.

Even Antibug herself isn't that interesting of a villain. The whole idea of an evil doppelganger is that they're a perfect match for the hero, but we only see Ladybug and Antibug fight for a few seconds, while Cat Noir does most of the fighting with her while Marinette's Kwami recharges. I like that Ladybug and Cat Noir show their teamwork to defeat Antibug, but I feel it would have been more interesting to see Ladybug and Antibug duke it out before Cat Noir helps turn the tide.

Again, this episode really needed to be a two-parter to better expand on the story presented here, because it had a really interesting premise. I'd personally read the version of “Antibug” in @justanotherpersonsuniverse​‘s “The Adventures of Panthera Noire” (an AU fanfic where shy girl Juleka gets the Cat Miraculous instead of Adrien). Not only does it have two separate chapters for Vanisher and Antibug, it also does a good job of setting Chloe on an actual redemption arc, unlike Astruc's “damnation arc”.

#6: The Puppeteer 2

As much as I've ragged on Adrien/Cat Noir in some of my other posts (and will continue to do so in this list), that doesn't mean I think Marinette has problems too, and this episode is a prime example.

Marinette and Adrien go to a wax statue museum with their friends (and Manon), but because of a poor choice of words by Nino, Adrien thinks that Marinette hates him. So he does something that everyone loves, practical jokes.

Adrien seriously thinks that pranking Marinette will improve her opinion of him. Even the prank is ridiculous, pretending to be a wax statue to make her laugh. And it leads to... Oh God... This is easily the contender for one of the worst moments in the entire show. Marinette goes up to the statue and... gets close to it. Yes, we, the audience know that this isn't a statue, but putting that aside, just look at what Marinette does to the “statue” (AUTHOR’S NOTE: I made a gif from the episode, but it wouldn’t go through, so I recommend you check out the episode and watch the statue scene for yourself if you don’t value your sanity). Even Adrien, as dense as he can be, is a little unsettled by what Marinette does.

If the scene was about Marinette talking about her feelings for Adrien, I'd be more lenient on it, but this? This is just uncomfortable to watch.

Even the dialogue makes Marinette sound incredibly creepy.

Marinette: Wow... it looks so... real. The wax is nearly as hot as skin. It even smells exactly like him...! Oh, beautiful statue of Adrien, your wax is so soft! Your yak hair is silky. Your eyes are so green. Oh, shall I be a statue, too! Everything would be so much easier. Why haven't we been molded together in the plaster of destiny? Marble to marble, wax lips against wax lips, entwined for eternity...

I think Gilbert Gottfried said it best.

This scene alone put this episode on the list, and the Akuma doesn't make it better. I really liked “The Puppeteer”, and I thought her ability to control past Akuma victims was incredibly fun to watch. And when she returns to take control of the wax statues of past Akumas they... don't use their powers (with the exception), and serve as cannon fodder for Ladybug and Cat Noir to plow through, making the return of the villain very underwhelming.

Even the end where Adrien tells Marinette that he is in love with someone and only sees her as a friend. This should devastate Marinette, but in the next scene, thanks to some fortune cookie nonsense from Tikki, she's still unsure about her relationship with Adrien, and that's how the episode ends. Seriously. Because just need to keep the status quo consistent, right? It's not like Marinette doubting her crush on Adrien and worrying that she's just wasted her time would have been interesting to see, right? Play that happy ending theme already!

Of all the episodes on this list, this is the one I was dreading talking about the most because of some of the moments here. And yet, there are still episodes that are worse than this one...

Here’s Part 2

[filipinoizukuu]

I have the notebook in hand now I beg you for explanation

HSBFNDSJNFVN my dearest snail oh jeez 😭 i have about maybe dozens of stories about accidentally being y/n, so i'm prayin and hopin none of my IRLs see this. Some details hidden for privacy.

LONG story ahed, so be warned.

-

So. End of winter to early spring about a year before COVID-19. I was still a little snot-nosed high schooler hanging out with my friends and generally being a nuisance upon society. For those of you that have never seen me in real life, the first thing you need to know was that I was adorable, female-presenting, and had the appearance of a goody-two-shoes star student down to a T.

Now, the second thing you need to know is about my friend group and how a majority of them were guys.

I'm not talking about like, darling boy-next-doors and fellow star-student nerds. I'm talking about teenage boys. GUYS guys. Rowdy and wrestling in the hallways, getting into fights, and pulling (harmless) pranks on each other kind of guys. The gross type because I love my friends but even I can admit they're kind of gross.

One day after school, we're hanging out in someone's truck on the way to a get-together. There are about four of us just chilling, me being the only girl. Someone's phone goes off and we look to see one of us pick up his phone.

Now, this friend, let's call him S.

S picks up the phone and starts talking to it. We hear bits and pieces of the conversation and he sounds a little nervous. He puts the phone down and looks at us with a weird expression and says he needs to get home.

"What gives, S?" we ask, slouching in our seats and drinking sweet tea, like all other self-respecting teenage hooligans. "Who was that?"

S explains to us very carefully that he just got off the phone with his auntie and that she wants to have a sit-down and dinner with him. We coo and make fun of him a little and acquiesce, driving on over to his place to drop him off and embarrass him in front of his parents as friends do. We tell him as much when S lights up and looks at us like he just got the world's best idea.

(Heads up! It was not.)

"Guys! I have a better idea."

The rest of us look at each other. "Which is...?"

"What if I pretend to have a girlfriend to impress my Aunt?"

Record scratch. Pause. I suddenly remember that I am the only pretty 'ole lady in this small and stuffy truck. In an instant, all eyes on the vehicle are on me.

No, hell no. I think to myself, there's no way I'm ever going to do this. This is how every fanfic starts and I am absolutely not emotionally available enough to do this. And you know what? That's exactly what I should've said.

Instead, what came out of my mouth was this:

"Buy me a tub of ice cream and I'm all yours."

And thus, the devil's deal was sealed.

Minutes later, we're exiting the truck and looking over at S's white picket fence and perfectly maintained garden. S goes with me and I suck it up, bracing myself for the performance of my lifetime. We do not hold hands and our other friend (E) walks behind us while dying of laughter. S opens the door and we are immediately greeted by the sight of his kind-looking Auntie welcoming him with open arms.

S waltzes in.

"Auntie... this is my girlfriend, Codi."

Now, a quick word about me and how I was in real life at the point of this story. I looked the part of an adorable overachieving student, and while my grades did match up, my attitude sure as hell didn't. I'm naturally a very loud and boisterous person. I 'get into fights' and curse just as well as the rest of them. I had a reputation in a few areas for having the knack of making my underclassmen cry. The point being, I wasn't a saint.

But I was a damn good actor.

"Hi Auntie!" I greet with the peppiest and highest voice I could manage. I skip towards her and shake her hand, smiling like a cracked-up cheerleader in a Coca-Cola ad from the '80s when they made it with actual cocaine. "Your nephew S is just about the sweetest thing ever. He's so nice and smart and I'm incredibly lucky to have him!" I lie through my teeth.

In the background, I can hear E on the verge of deranged cackling while S just stands there and coughs into his fist like an emotionally constipated tuberculosis patient.

My Limit of the Day has been reached, so I shoot Auntie S a quick grin when she enthusiastically thanks me for my services and then haul my ass out their door, E hot on my heels. We leave S behind to deal with whatever shitstorm came after and I tried my best to not look back.

The moment the old truck door slams shut behind us, E abso-fucking-lutely loses it, guts busting with how much he's laughing. We high-tail it to the get-together and I make him swear up and down to not mention it for the rest of the day. It's over, at this point, the thing's been done and there's no other damage than my sanity and maybe S's relationship with his aunt. At least, that is what I thought.

Hours later, S texts me.

hey so um. remember that thing earlier?

Odd question, because how could I not?

yeah so. my aunt stayed for dinner and my parents arrived early and they asked me about school so. long story short... my whole family thinks we're dating.

Predictably, I lose my mind. I ask myself how I got into this situation and then imagine the sweet, sweet ice cream waiting for me at the end of this ride. I'm like, okay! This isn't so bad! It's actually really funny if I think about it enough. At least it's contained, right? I say my famous last words. It's not like I'll ever actually meet his family again.

So I go to bed and decidedly Pass Go, Collect $200 on any fanfics or other friendly drama that night.

The next week, I walk into school. I'm going about my normal business when I bump into my friend group. They pounce on me like a hound of dogs, making rounds of congratulations with varying faces of amusement. "What?" I go, like an oblivious idiot.

From like 15 feet down the hall, a familiar figure turns the corner and I lock eyes with him. Something clicks into place and I realize that there were actual witnesses to S's convoluted brownie-points shenanigan that I didn't consider.

"E," I say. "you are so fucking dead."

My friend group, who E had apparently told about my whole schtick as S's Rent-a-Girlfriend, breaks out into laughter and dodges as I power-walked my way to kick E's shins with the fury of a thousand 5'3 suns.

We went about the rest of our day until it hit lunch break, and of course who else to apparently wait for me in front of my class other than S himself.

S grabs me by the wrist and pulls me along throughout the campus. We're lightly conversing the whole time, me weaseling a time and date to my beloved reward tubs of ice cream as promised. Without me realizing it, we end up in front of two very familiar rooms.

Another thing, really quickly, about this whole storyline. S was not just an ordinary friend, you see. He was special, in a way, in such that his two closest friends were my crush (at the time) and his best friend who I'd recently rejected. Now those two have a whole 'nother story on their own which I'd deign to discuss publically, so you'll have to settle for those apt descriptions.

So, those two aforementioned mutual friends of ours walk out of those rooms and turn to make eye contact with us. They laugh, good-naturedly, and I sigh in relief because it seems that of all people, E had not gotten the hot gossip to them just yet.

I beckon the two of them over, being none the wiser and thinking we could take our break together when the final straw hits

S throws his arm over my shoulders and pulls me closer.

"Hey guys, Codi's my girlfriend now!"

... You can guess where the argument fits now in this timeline.

(I got my ice cream very shortly after. We're all friends now and it's all water under the bridge! This was a long story so if you've made it this far, just know that this is all but a funny memory to look back on for me and I've since moved on.)

[thirdtimesthecharmsworld]

Umbrella Academy Fanfic

Preface: I’m a big fan of Dead Like Me, the 2003 tv show created by Bryan Fuller. This fanfiction I’ve written is pretty much a crossover between the two universes, but with my own original character instead. It’s a bit convoluted, story-wise, so I apologize in advance if you read this and it doesn’t make any sense. Also, I wrote this in the span of a month, and there are multiple parts. I’ve decided I can’t keep it locked it up in my Google Docs anymore so here you go.

PS: This is the first time I’m posting anything I’ve written on here, so I’d actually appreciate any constructive criticism anyone may have!

As many times as I’ve done this, the young ones never sit right with me. Their big doe eyes always seem to pierce my soul. If I even still have one. 

There were surprised gasps at first. Then silence. The room we are gazing on is covered in blood. And after the scene I just witnessed, I wasn’t even sure how much of it was his. He looks so despaired. He was really just left in parts, chunks of a child strewn everywhere. I felt sick. After all these years, the bloody ones still got to me. And this one, a kid. I turn away, reaching out reflexively to grip at his shoulder. He looks up at me, I can see, in my peripheral vision. I close my eyes, feeling my stomach turn. And then they started wailing. Deep, shuddering breaths and sobbing cries. I don’t think they even knew they were doing it, the six kids standing there in the carnage. I don’t have to turn and look to know they were clutching at each other, wracked with emotions. And I can’t take it anymore.

The metal door swings on its hinges as I rush out. There is a bang behind me as it hits the wall, but the only thing I’m focused on is trying to control my breathing. The last time I’d seen anything so bloody was Mom. An image: her blonde hair soaked red, against the rocks, my tears soaking Sofer’s jacket as he held me. My stomach turns again, and I lean over, my hands on my bent knees. Everything swims in front of me, my eyes now brimming with tears. Panic set it. I couldn’t do anything back then either. I couldn’t save her. I couldn’t save him. I couldn’t save anyone, I couldn’t do anythi-

“Hello?” a timid voice behind me.

Oh, the kid. I’d forgotten about the kid. The images, the thoughts, the guilt I felt, leave my mind and I focus on the post-it note I feel burning a hole in my pocketbook. Of course I couldn’t save them, that wasn’t my job. My job is just to help them move on, go forward. 

I draw a deep breath, almost losing it at the stench of the alleyway. I swipe my hand across my eyes as I turn around. Short black hair frames a delicate face. His school-boy attire seems unfitting for the ordeal I know he just went through. And he’s so small. Granted, I’m only a couple feet taller than him, but I can just see how small he is from the way he stands, so defeated, so confused, so innocent. I feel my eyes brimming with tears again, but offer a wavering smile I hope will comfort him.

“Hey, kid.” I utter. He just stares at me. I suck in a breath, the smile fading. Looking down at my shoes, I draw the courage to continue, “I know you have a shit-load of questions. But if it’s okay with you,” I look up, “I’d like to get out of here.” His brows furrow, and he turns to look through the door into the museum. I can faintly still hear the wails of his siblings, and I recognize that’s what he’s thinking of. But the bloody image flashes in my mind again, and I know that he understands, deep down, why he can’t go back there. Why he didn’t feel anything at the moment all that carnage took place. Why he’s numb now.

He turned, looked me in the eyes. He’s still hesitant, I can tell, but the understanding I knew he feels is there, just at the surface of his demeanor. He nods, and I walk forward. I gesture toward the opening of the alley, and we keep walking. 

It doesn’t feel right to try and comfort him then, to try and explain that I understand what he feels. That, though I look 15, I know what it feels like to die.

We keep walking, police cars and ambulances passing us, until we reach the bookstore. Luckily, it wasn’t very far. He still hasn’t said anything by the time we reach the door, but I was expecting as much. I glance up at Cindy behind the cash register as I walk in. She nods, and comes to flip the sign at the front to CLOSED as we walk to the back. I grab the clothes and wet wipes I’d stored in the closet on my way to the table. Ben follows silently behind me. 

I clear my throat, “So,” I started, “I guess I’ll ask you first. Do you have any pressing questions, or if you want me to jump right into it?” 

He doesn’t look at me, just stares at the cup of tea in front of him. He looks even smaller with the big blanket covering him. I sigh, “Look, I-”. God, it’s a kid, I don’t know what to say to kids. And I haven’t even gotten a kid in a long time. I don’t even remember what I said to the last one. I look at him again. He is all bundled up in that blanket, blood still covering him. I’d offered the wipes but he didn’t reach out for them. I think he’s still in shock. Memories of my own death trickle in.

“It didn’t really hurt when I died.” I state.

He blinks. Finally, a response.

I continue, “I mean, mine wasn’t all that brutal, so of course it didn’t really hurt.” I look down at the sleeve of my sweater. “It was my birthday, actually. I’d just turned 16, which was the youngest age you had to be to get a job back then. Of course, Mom said she didn’t want me to do that. The people I was living with then were really nice, you know? It was the Great Depression, as you guys call it; so there wasn’t really much of a chance for food, much less money to buy food. But I-I remember wanting to help, to try and find a job or some food or something- anything really.  I don’t know why I thought I could help. Like I said, I hadn’t eaten in a long time,” I chuckle. “Anyway, I went out in the night, so nobody’d ask questions. I figured I’d try to go into the city. I don’t even remember how I got there, to the city. I was just so tired. We lived a bit further out than everybody else, which was also why it was hard to find stuff. It took longer than I thought it would. I was so weak by the time I got there; so tired. It was so bright up close; all the lights and stuff. The smell was horrible, and the people I saw all looked sick. But I was determined to find something, some way to help my family. And then I smelled it. Food; it made my stomach growl like crazy. I looked up and I saw a line of people in front of a soup kitchen, and I saw people holding soup, and it looked so good. I stepped out into the street, to cross the road, and...and that was it. It was over...like that. And I wasn’t hungry anymore. I wasn’t tired, I wasn’t anything” I sniffle. “It was a car. It came barreling down the road, totally reckless. When I came to, Sofer was there. He told me what’d happened right away. He said that it was some guy with a pregnant wife in the backseat. Told me I was dead, and he was a reaper.” 

oops, I guess that’s the end of the story. I look up at the kid across from me-saying his name felt too personal right now. He’s staring at me, and with dread I notice tears in his eyes. He is clutching the cup of tea in front of him. He looks a little scared, actually, and I feel bad all of a sudden. I didn’t mean to make him sad, I thought I was doing the right thing. God, I don’t know what to say to kids. 

“Sorry,” I mutter, concern filling me as I lean closer to him, “I didn’t mean to scare you, kid, I just- I- God, I don’t know, I guess I thought it would help.” Speaking, obviously, wasn’t the right move, as all of a sudden the tears are rolling down his cheeks. “Shit,” I exclaim, reaching across the table to grab his hand, “I’m sorry. It’s okay, it- it’s okay, I mean, yeah, you died, but you’re okay now, right?” That also wasn’t the right thing to say, because he has started crying even harder. “Oh, no,” I scoop him up, holding him to my chest as I gently just sit down on the floor. “Oh, god, I’m sorry! Oh, I’m so sorry.” I can’t stop apologizing, I can’t stop hushing him, rocking back and forth with him in my arms. I am horrible at this. I am so, so bad at this. Why did Sofer have to leave me here alone? Now tears are pricking at my eyes, and I can’t stop thinking of all the people I’ve failed, all the people who took so long to get beyond the veil because of me. Me and my stupid emotions. I am full blown crying now. I still can’t stop apologizing, and tears silently stream down my face and soak the blanket Ben is wrapped in. Ben. Dammit, I made it personal.

It was a good 10 minutes at least until Cindy came to the back and saw us still on the floor. He’d stopped crying by then, worn himself out. We were just sitting there, staring off into the distance. I’d started brushing his hair subconsciously, and he didn’t stop me. He was definitely worn out. She helped me lead him to the cot in the guest room, and he laid down and closed his eyes. I didn’t have the heart to tell him he couldn’t really sleep; he was dead. I leave the door open a crack, figuring he’d realize soon enough and come back out. Cindy is staring at me when I turn from closing the door. I glare at her, “Not a word,” I mutter as I move to clean away the mugs on the table. In my peripheral, I can see her raise her hands in defense, “I didn’t say anything!” she exclaims. I roll my eyes, “Yeah, but you were thinking something, and that’s just as distracting.” I hear her sigh, “Look, it’s just that this is the second one this week, and it isn’t like you to do this more than once every couple of years, maybe.” Dammit, she has a point. 

“Cindy, I just...I just don’t know what to do when it’s a kid,” I whisper, turning to face her. She looks sad, like she pities me. God, I hate it when she pities me. 

“I know that, but the one earlier this week was, like 100.” I glare at her again, walking over to the sink with my mug bounty, “She was 95, okay? And anyway, I was only sad because I knew you wouldn’t let me keep her dog.” Cindy rolls her eyes, scoffing, “Yeah, no, that’s such a blatant lie, I’m even more concerned now. I fucking love dogs, okay, and you know that!” My head shoots up, eyes wide, “Cut it out with the cussing,” I hiss. She looks even more concerned, appalled even. 

“The cussing?!” she exclaims. I lift my finger up to my lips, worried her volume will wake Ben. She doesn’t stop talking, but does lower her voice, glancing at the door to the bedroom, “The cussing? You’re worried about me fucking cussing now?”. 

“Yeah, Cin,” I continue, taunting her with her most hated nickname, “I’m worried about you cussing now. It’s not my fault you’re always cursing like a-” I stop myself quickly and grimace at my mistake. There’s silence for a beat as I turn my head slowly to look at her, overly smiling apologetically. She’s pretty much livid now. There’s not usually much I can do when she’d livid. I open my mouth, “I’m sor-”. The sting of her slap on my back is something I’m used to, but I gasp in shock and let out a laugh. I continue apologizing, “I’m sorry De, I’m sorry!”. I laugh as she hits me two more times, not hard- never hard- but enough to get her point across. 

“Low blow, man,” she mutters, coming closer to help me with the dishes. I chuckle a bit, “Well, it’s not like I finished the sentence,” I try to defend myself. She just glares at me, and we wash dishes for a couple more minutes. Cindy’s death was more brutal than mine. And being raped and killed by a sailor in the 40s left a bad taste in her mouth when it comes to certain phrases. In the quiet aftermath of our fight, I pucker my lips at something she said, “It was a chihuahua.” Cindy looks up at me. “The lady’s dog, it was a chihuahua, that’s why I knew you wouldn’t want to keep it,” I explain. She smiles, then furrows her brow, “You hate chihuahuas too, though. Why would you want to keep it?” Dammit, she’s got another point. Why would I want to keep some angry old dog that belonged to some old lady I don’t even know? I think of her face, all wrinkled, but full of comfort and love. Warmth. It reminds me of Mom, holding me tight. She was always so warm. It didn’t hurt when I died, but it sure as hell hurt when she did. 

“Pen?” Cindy says softly. I’m pulled out of my stupor. I shake myself, look at her. That was a mistake. She looks so concerned, so sad for me. I feel warmth on my arm, and look down at her hand on my bicep. I sigh, turning to put the dishes I was holding in the sink, and then grabbing a dish towel to dry my hands. While Cindy dries hers too, I pull out my pocketbook and flip through to get to the right page. I peel the post-it off the page and hand it to Cindy. She grabs it daintily. Her face changes as she reads it, “Oh, Pen,” she whispers with remorse. I lower my head, leaning back against the counter, “Yeah,” I sigh. 

Written on the post-it is a name, a time, and a place. The name, though, is why Cindy’s now looking at me like I’m going to start breaking down any second. Which I definitely would, if it weren’t for the fact that I just did that with Ben 5 minutes ago. The name reads, Margaret Selorde, and it’s been breaking my heart since Thursday.

“How is this even possible,” Cindy whispers. I chuckled sadly, “Margaret is a pretty popular name, D, I don’t know what you mean.” She looks up, tilting her head and furrowing her brow as if to say, “Yeah, dipshit, I know Margaret is a popular name.” I sigh at that look, “It’s actually her.” Cindy’s mouth drops in surprise, “Seriously?” she whispers, and I nod, thankful she didn’t point out that I just said “is”, and not “was”. 

“Penny told me. Then she looked into it when she got the ledger,” I explain, “found some old records on it at the library. And texted me right away,” I smile. Cindy’s face says it all. Her eyebrows are pulled together and her eyes are watering. She doesn’t pity me, she’s heartbroken for me. Penny had to take the soul of my adopted sister, the only part of my family left. 

I look back down at my shoes, tears pricking my eyes, “She recognized me, actually,” I sniffle, “Penny showed her a picture of me,” I chuckle, watery. I clear my throat and pick my head up, still not looking at Cindy, but rather a spot on the doorway across the room, “Penny said she-she said she always knew I ended up okay. She said she always had a feeling.” I pause, then look at 

The door to the guest room creaks, and I whip my head around. Ben’s standing there, skin still covered in dried blood. He looks so small, so innocent, so- “Hey, kid,” Cindy says. I turn to look at her, trying to communicate with my eyes that talking to him might not be the best idea, because I still don’t know what’s going on in his mind. She ignores me, “Do you want something?” she asks. I look back at him, and remark again at the blood all over his clothes. He doesn’t say anything, but looks at me. It hurts, strikes me to the core-my soul, if I still have one. I feel the urge to explain Cindy’s presence, “She’s like me, and she’s my roommate,” I awkwardly explain. He looks back at Cindy, who smiles. The silence is deafening. I can’t stop looking at him, at the blood. 

“Hey, if you want, you can use the bathroom over there,” I point to the door next to the guest room, “to, um, well, wash off.” God dammit, why am I so bad with kids? Ben looks, though, at the bathroom door, and then down at his hands. I feel bad again as his eyes begin to fill with tears all over again. He rushes to the bathroom in a flash, shutting the door tight behind him. I grimace at it all, and turn to face Cindy again. She looks appalled as she hands me back the post-it note, “What did you even say to him?” she whispers. I throw my hands up, making sure to keep the post-it secure in one of my hands, “I don’t know,” I whisper back fiercely, “I told you, I’m bad with kids!” Cindy chuckles, still looking concerned about him, “He was so small,” she insists quietly, “and bloody,” she wrinkles her nose. I sigh, remembering the carnage, “Yeah, it was brutal.” Cindy looks at me, all of a sudden very serious, “Did someone…” she trails off, making a throat-slitting gesture. I shake my head fervently, “No, no, no, no,” I reassure her, and she sighs, “He did it himself,” I explain. Her eyes are big as saucers, and she’s absolutely heartbroken, “He did it himself?!” I chuckle at her expression, surprised she got to that conclusion, “Oh my god, sit down, I’ll just explain it to you.”

[pastiel]

Random NiGHTS Ideas/Headcanons #1

My goal is to have an ongoing series of these where I just post my random thoughts, inner ramblings, etc. Also, a lot of these relate to how I write about this series. So... some world building things will be here as well. Anyways let’s begin :)

- The Night Dimension is like... it’s own pocket of existence within the universe. I think of it similar to Greek Mythology, where it’s part of the world, and it’s just not seen often. When someone is visiting the Night Dimension, it’s almost like an out-of-body experience where their soul is present, but not the physical form. Which can explain why it would feel particularly real to that person. I’d like to imagine it is easier to explain everything as a dream than it would be to say ‘your soul has left your body to universe hop, you get it?’. Now... as to why it reflects a person within each Nightopia and such. I haven’t entirely figured it out yet... but I’ve been figuring it as that the universe has the ability to morph to how you wish to see it, or really how your mind is perceiving it to be. (convoluted, I know). It has the potential to be a paradise you can escape to for a while, but it can also reveal things about yourself, and even possibly help you figure out problems, or even resolve them internally. (almost like ‘Wonderland’ from ‘Alice Through the Looking Glass’)

- Ideya are representations of aspects of the human soul, therefore I started associating them with pieces of the soul rather than just an energy. If you gain a full set, it can technically mean you are at balance with yourself, and are at your strongest. Lose enough ideya, and you’ll fall into a very low point, similar to a depression, or even lose all sense of humility. I’ve also played around with the idea that humans have the ability to give them away, or steal them from others. Another idea I've tossed around is that ideya can become corrupted, leading to some traits turning toxic (example: Purity turns into Immorality. It’s the easiest to corrupt as well, with Courage being the hardest). Why is Courage so hard for Wizeman to obtain? It’s the only one that he cannot grasp himself, nor can many of his maren (besides NiGHTS and possibly Reala) touch it. I’ve always chalked it up to the fact none of them have the actual courage to really pursue it, with the only exception being again, NiGHTS and Reala. Wizeman rules with fear, and is a tyrannic, ruthless, omnipotent, and omniscient entity. When you have so many things to hide behind, you never really gain any courage. And since Wizeman has shown those who disobey his order receive severe punishments, courage to do risky actions wouldn’t be common amongst nightmaren, who are too afraid of the consequences to do so. Without the will to have courage, it will not find you. 

- Now for some stuff that isn’t purely world building, and more just ideas I've gone back and forth with. What if there were people who sided with Wizeman? What if there was a cult surrounding those who follow him? Like, just imagine a cult for Wizeman within the human race. This entire idea only got brought to mind when a friend of mine started talking about weird cults, and I went ‘huh... cult of the six handed god’. I haven’t entirely fleshed out the concept yet, but I would like to imagine it would be similar to the Yiga Clan from Breath of the Wild... just actually dangerous. And possibly known for using psychology against willing/unwilling victims. And there might be sacrifices, but that’s as far as I got. Wouldn’t it be really interesting if the maren actually took note of this so called cult, and then told Wizeman, and he humored the cultists because it’s a group worshipping him? 

- I managed to find some raws of the Archie comic, and gagged......... Okay, memes and horrible story/art aside, there were some concepts that I liked. Like how the ruby on NiGHTS’s chest was actually a shard of courage, or how they could essentially exist on earth for short periods of time. But the one I liked most was how nightmaren could ‘dualize’ with humans and pretty much possess them. And then use the human as an outlet for their agenda. I once wrote something using that concept, except instead of spreading the good news about Wizeman and how he’ll save you, the nightmaren used it as a way to spy on targets while they weren’t actively in the night dimension. And it could be anyone close to the target such as a parent, friend, teacher, or even someone who often passes you in public. 

I think I’m done rambling for now lmao

If people liked this, I’ll do more in the future, and possibly even dedicate certain posts to characters. Future posts will be tagged ‘Real Clown Ramblings’. Also, I have a few finished fanfics sitting in my google drive waiting to be formatted and posted to ao3, so... hopefully I’ll have some actual content out in the future?? Keep an eye out is all I can say :’3

[theres-no-protocol-for-this]

Amusement Park

Part 11 of the Guardian fanfic (and we’re almost to the end)! If you would like to read this in chronological order and don’t feel like tag surfing, this is also available on AO3.

Not everything my humans do ends in tragedy. Occasionally, they have something resembling fun.

Digging in the Archives led them to one of those traveling amusement parks that sometimes took over parking lots for a week. I'd seen it at a distance but frankly, the screaming and the smell of cotton candy hadn’t instilled much confidence.

You'll hate it, the house informed me. It had given me a pendant through which it talked, sometimes. I was still getting used to the mansion’s constant presence.

For once, the entity was uncharacteristically wrong. I didn't totally hate the amusement park.  The place was loud and there were far too many people, plus it all smelled vaguely of vomit. But my humans had a good time, and that somehow made up for the rest of it.

Arada and Overse held hands and bought themselves giant hot dogs. Baradwahj kept stopping to doodle in her sketchbook. Even Gurathin, who as far as I knew didn't like anything that entailed having fun, was having a good time as he argued air resistance and thermodynamics with Volsecu.

I was walking alongside Dr. Mensah, on two legs at that.

"Have you ever been on a Ferris wheel?" she asked.

I shook my head. If wolves had been intended to leave the ground, we'd have wings. And seeing as how we didn't, I didn't want to chance it. It must've shown on my face because Mensah laughed and touched my shoulder.

"You look like I suggested an execution."

"Yeah, maybe."

"It's perfectly safe."

"It doesn't look safe." How was I supposed to protect my clients if they were going to get on something that rickety?

The house offered unhelpful information, starting with when Ferris wheels were invented and the statistics of accidents and injuries.

Mensah shook her head, clearly amused at the whole thing, and stopped in front of a food vendor. Money exchanged hands, and suddenly she had this puffy ball of sugar on a stick. It was a hideous shade of pink.

"Want to try a bite?" she asked.

"Hell no!"

She snorted. "You could use more meat on your bones, you know."

"That... thing isn't food."

The rest of the group was up ahead, stopped in front of a small building that read "Fun House of Mirrors." These words didn't look right together, but fuck it, I don't understand humans and I couldn't care less what they considered fun.

"Over here!" Arada yelled, waving her hands.

Mensah waved back and started walking again. Normally, I do at most a half-assed version of my job. A decade in, I've come to the conclusion that humans are somehow drawn to danger, and frankly, stopping them is a waste of breath. But these humans... I didn't want anything to happen to them, so I'd been paying attention.

So, when a clown walked between me and them, I growled at the weirdly-dressed human. Except, it didn't smell human at all. It smelled... like me, like another were-creature. I didn't see a collar, so it wasn't a guardian. Just a free were-creature, one that hadn’t been caught by the department.

We’re supposed to report unregistered users of dark magic to the department. But, my binding almost never picked up when such a creature was around—it certainly wasn’t reacting now—and I had no plans of telling the department a damn thing.

The clown planted itself in front of me. "Oh wow," it—correction, she—said, suddenly excited. "Oh my god, you're like the only other shapeshifter I've met. Shit! This is awesome. Oh, god, can I...uh, take a picture?"

The team noticed my absence and came over, and then, there was nowhere to run. I stood around awkwardly while they chatted with the other were-creature, whose name was Tasha and who turned into a bear but had started as a human. And then they exchanged phone numbers. And I was just standing there, trying not to look as uncomfortable as I felt.

"You OK?" Tasha wanted to know all of a sudden.

"Fine."

"You look about a mile down the road from fine," she pointed out. "I can practically see you trying to crawl out of your skin."

"So?"

"So, you need to relax a little," she told me, oblivious.

Mensah carefully explained that I was currently working. Tasha patted my shoulder, and I almost jumped backward. It took effort to stay still and not bite the were-bear's hand off.

"Stop that," I growled.

Tasha handed me a balloon, one of the many she was holding and giving out to kids. I just stood there, string in hand, and tried to puzzle out what the fuck I was supposed to do with it. You can't really kill anyone with a balloon, and you can't eat it.

Ratthi said, "It's very purple."

I looked up at the floating ball. "What do you do with it?"

"Hold it for a while and then let it go and watch it fly away."

"What for?"

Humans often engage in rituals that bring them joy. It doesn’t always have meaning, the entity told me like I didn’t know. I wished I could glare but there was no one to glare at.

"Fun." Tasha was in my face. "The whole purpose of this place is to have some fun. It makes living a little easier, a little lighter."

I looked at Dr. Mensah like I needed rescuing all of a sudden.

"Come on," she said quietly. "Let's go see if we can find you something that's actual food." She smiled at the were-bear. "It was a pleasure meeting you, Tasha. Feel free to reach out to us anytime."

After lunch, we entered the funhouse.

I know humans are supposed to be delighted in things that bend the mind, but the house of mirrors gave me the creeps. I felt sufficiently unnerved to switch back into my wolf form. On the off chance that we got attacked three steps past the front door, I was ready.

I walked ahead of the rest of the investigative team, using my superior senses to seek out our target. But, frankly, I doubted the sanity of any creature that would make its home in this horrible place.

I stopped in front of a set of mirrors that distorted human proportions. Standing on four feet and only half as tall as the floor-to-ceiling mirror, I could still mostly identify what I was looking at. Trust humans to enjoy something as convoluted and mind-bending as this place.

And then a shadow walked straight out of the mirror and past me toward the investigators. It was a silhouette of a person, outlined in gray and green sparks of light. It sang as it moved, each word visible in the fog-shrouded room.

The words were literally spilling out of its mouth like confetti and falling on the ground.

I decided that this monster had bigger problems than a group of curious investigators to deal with.

"Indeed," said the strange spirit and the word plopped on the ground like a meatball. "This is what you might call a curse."

I yipped at it softly. "What kind of curse?"

It, of course, had no idea what I was saying. The mansion helped translate, somehow able to communicate with the creature just because of the pendant's proximity to the monster.

"The kind born of ill intentions," the spirit answered just as the humans caught up.

I placed myself squarely between them and the spirit, moving so that, if it tried anything, it would have to go through me.

Mensah put a hand on my back, between my shoulder blades, as a heads-up that she was standing beside me. I shivered at the unsolicited touch. Baradwahj was taking notes, and in the brief silence I could easily make out the sound of her pencil scraping against paper.

"I wondered why so many beings of light were suddenly in my domain," the creature said, and the words floated away, carried by an unseen breeze. "But now, I understand. The humans beyond these walls never cease to surprise me."

Overse, whose magic also had a connection to words and writing, stepped forward. "Who are you?"

"A difficult question, human." The cursed being rose above the floor on bare feet and twirled before us. "Once, perhaps I was human. But then I was cursed, for speaking the words that needed to be said. And the curse is renewed with each passing moon. For fifty years now, unceasing and unfailing."

"Can you tell us who cursed you?"

"I never knew her name. But she was... beautiful. Like the light of a new moon falling on a still, silent lake."

I heard whispers among the group. Finally, Overse said, "If we could find the one who cursed you, perhaps we could convince her to lift it."

"Perhaps."

The spirit flittered past me and between the humans. It passed through them untouched and didn't appear to cause them any harm. Sparks of green light landed in her wake.

I knew the humans wouldn't leave this alone, so I shapeshifted and became human. The spirit turned to face me now that there were eight people between us, haphazardly arranged and staring.

"So you're more than a wolf."

"And you're more than a prisoner," I countered.

"A curse is a curse." The creature shrugged.

"Not every curse is the same. Why the mirrors?"

"So that I might remember the importance of the human shape, the wonder of what it means to be born a human being." She spit the words out.

I had a sudden, inexplicable moment of clarity. "The head of the department did this, didn't she?"

"You're a smart one, little wolf."

No, not smart. Just good at remembering terrible things at inappropriate times. Mensah did this complicated thing where she got a little closer but didn't touch, like just existing would somehow prop me up. I don't know why. It's not like I cared what happened to this spirit or the uptight asshole of a human who chaired the department.

Overse and Arada grasped hands. Ratthi looked so very, utterly sad.

Mensah made a decision. I like how she thinks hard about her choices but once she's chosen, it's full steam ahead. I hate humans who waffle about things.

"We're leaving," she told the team. "There's nothing more we can do here. The Archives got it wrong this time. Guardian, we have some things we need to do tomorrow. So you have the day off."

[iamanartichoke]

Why do you feel that way about fandom? (In regards to your latest reblog)

Ah, I’m not sure if I know how to explain it, but I’ll try. (This got long, so I’m really sorry.)

The thing is, I first got into the Loki fandom early in 2018, so I’m coming up on about two years of being active here. That first year was so fun and exciting; I was elated to be able to discuss my Loki theories and meta with like-minded people, and I was so happy (and surprised!) at the attention my fic was getting.

I was also still at a point where I believed IW was going to blow our minds, so there was that extra kind of thrill of suspense (and a bit of fear but, when you believe in the MCU and haven’t yet lost faith in its writers/directors, the fear is surface-level and adds to the thrill - there’s not really the accompanying dread and despair). 

IW was a crushing blow to that, of course, but even though we were all devastated, we were all devastated as a fandom. We were still in it together; we had one another to vent to and cry with and share fic with. “Loki is alive bc reasons” became kind of an unwritten rule in most post-IW fics; we all agreed that Loki deserved better. 

In 2019, two things happened: one, I was underemployed and dragging my feet on finding better employment due to my mental health, which ruined my life for a little while. I had to move back in with my parents, which (I love them and am grateful they were willing to support me, but) was a toxic environment. I was too depressed to indulge in my escapism the same way (fic and fandom) and my progress on my stories slowed way down. I’ve never quite been able to get back the momentum I had when writing Sanctuary, but that’s another issue. 

The second thing that happened was, obviously, Endgame came out and whatever theories and hopes the fandom was collectively holding onto about Loki were crushed. Not only that, but the portrayal of Thor seemed to amplify the divide in the fandom between the pro/anti Ragnarok argument. 

It seems, to me, that what was a series of battles or skirmishes only became an all-out war after Endgame. That’s only my perception, of course, but I do feel that the latter part of 2019 saw the divide grow larger and larger. Everyone had opinions on what the “correct” portrayal of Thor was, and how it related to Loki, and whether fanon Thor and Loki’s relationship was founded in canon or not. Everyone was defensive of their own point of view; bullying and name-calling and anon hate became more widespread. 

Again, this is just my observation. Those who’ve been on the front lines since Ragnarok came out probably have a much different perspective; I’m only talking about what I observed bc it directly impacts how I feel about fandom these days. 

So here we are in 2020; like I said, I’ve been here about two years. I haven’t rewatched any of the Thor movies in ages (although @delyth88 and I are talking about it), because they make me so sad and also so angry. Sad for what we had, angry for what could have been. So much wasted potential. Loki’s horrific end hangs over everything, as does Thor’s radical character change, and I don’t have the same excited outlook about the characters and the meta potential anymore. 

Not having watched the movies in a long time, along with that feeling of “ugh” around them, impacts me creatively bc I’m not actively feeding my writing inspiration. For me, fanfic writing comes from being so full of feels about the source material that I just can’t get enough and I need more. I draw my inspiration from things like watching Loki’s facial expressions, catching subtle moments between Thor and Loki, analyzing the way they speak, thinking about the story choices happening, and so on, and so on. 

My source of inspiration has dried up, in other words, which has made it hard for me to keep a good writing momentum going. I was feeling great when I rewrote Sea, and then my inspiration kind of plummeted again - this time, bc I felt that I did such a good job rewriting and the response was so positive, I didn’t know if I could finish the rest of the story as well. Like I was already setting up the second half to fail, bc it would be much more “rough draft” than the first - revised and polished, yes, but not gone over with a fine-toothed comb the way the first part was. 

The truth is, I carry a lot of stress and anxiety around my writing. I am always incredibly anxious that no one actually likes my fic, that no one is reading my fic, that people think it’s stupid or pointless, that my quirky humorous touches are ooc, that my plotlines are convoluted and boring and my sex scenes awkward and non-existent. 

I’m having trouble with the Valki relationship bc I haven’t watched Ragnarok in so long, I’ve forgotten how much chemistry was between them and how it made me feel. I’ve forgotten why I chose to pair them up in this ‘verse in the first place. And I worry about that, too - that the people who read my stories for the Valki are walking away unsatisfied. 

So that’s where I am with fic writing - slow and steady, still trying to find my footing, still secretly assuming what I write is shit.

This is on top of feeling more and more isolated on tumblr, mostly because of the aforementioned tensions and overall negativity that’s erupted in the fandom. I have been unfollowed and blocked by people who were once mutuals; I have been blocked by people I’ve never spoken to before. 

There’s so much stress surrounding the things I post now - I’m constantly thinking, have I worded this correctly to convey my meaning without shitting on someone else’s opinion? Is this post going to be the one that makes this or that mutual unfollow me? Am I tagging correctly so my pro Ragnarok mutuals don’t see my criticism, and vice versa? Can I still post pictures of Chris Hemsworth, who is possibly the only man in the world I am definitely attracted to, which is a shame bc I agree that he’s kind of a douche now? But he’s so beautiful, but I have to disclaim that it’s just his face I’m attracted to? If I reblog this post about Loki that I think is hilarious, but is also founded on the flat stabby villain characterization, will I alienate my anti friends? Does it imply I don’t understand or appreciate Loki and that, by reblogging the thing, I’m endorsing a shitty characterization? 

And so on. It makes scrolling my dashboard uncomfortable and un-fun, bc I end up saving tons of posts to my drafts without reblogging them, and after awhile I am not enjoying myself, so I stop scrolling. 

But this means I miss tons of mutuals’ posts, and I was trying to check individual blogs for awhile but I kept falling further behind, and there were more and more posts I’d missed, and I’d get overwhelmed and then feel like they probably hated me anyway at this point for being a shit mutual, so I might as well just keep lurking on the dash for ten minutes and call it a day. 

On top of that, I haven’t read fic in awhile bc of this mindset, so I haven’t commented, and then when I don’t get comments it’s like, well, maybe the story’s not shitty but no one’s reading it bc what do I expect when I’m not reading theirs? You’re not special, Charlotte. 

The worst part about all of this is that none of it should diminish (and hasn’t diminished!) my love of Loki as a character. I am excited about the series, but I am also very anxious about it - about the story not being good, yes, but also about the inevitably divide that will further split the fandom. 

No matter how the story goes, someone’s going to be upset. You can’t please everyone, and trying only makes for worse storytelling. So the wank will continue. 

But I love Loki. I love everything about him. I am interested in writing about him and reading about him and thinking about him. I am invested in him and always will be. It’s just that, right now, I’m kind of falling further and further out of fandom and I find I have less to say. 

And so I either have to wait it out, or work on my own mindset, or keep on keeping on. I just don’t know how long that will take or if I’m even liked enough here to try to bother. 

tl;dr: Fandom has made me cynical and jaded, and it has dampened not my love of Loki, but my love of interacting with the Loki fandom.

(I know you didn’t ask for this hot garbage pile of my feelings, anon, so I’m sorry.) 

[charlesemersonwinchesteriii]

So two of my beloved and respected mutuals asked/threatened me to expand upon these tags and because it was my birthday this week which means obviously I’m distraught and can’t stop crying I’m going to break my time honored tradition of lying alone in the dark never answering anybody’s messages. You all will now hear about a boy whether you want to or not. (jk I’m using readmore obvs and I am SO SO SORRY if ur on mobile or sth and it fails mea culpa that this is the longest post in the entire world :( )

Ok, now that we’re safely under the readmore hopefully, for the first time ever in front of a human being besides myself, let’s talk about Steve!!!! (”hey so uh, would this Steve happen to have anything to do with the, um, other Steve you can’t shut up about in your stupid paragraph long tags we have to scroll past every time you post, or--” Rest Assured This Post Does Not In Any Way Shape Or Form Concern Award Winning Hollywood Actor Steven Carell) (”ok but like you do recognize it’s a little weird, right, that you just, you know, decided to use that exact name--” It’s Not A Weird RPF Thing Ok We Are Moving On Now)  So Steve is my little baby I love him soooooooooo much!!!!!!!!!! And I can’t tell you anything about him because it’s all too complicated :( but let’s try anyways So you know AU fanfics? I love AU fanfics so much you guys. There are some fandoms I’m in where I never really liked the setting and/or plot of the canon story at all tbh but I loved the characters a lot so I just read All The AU Fic (not giving any examples bc that’d be rude I think but I feel like this is at least a slightly relatable experience for most fans of stuff?? maybe??? comment your fandom experiences down below if you’ve read this far into the post which NOBODY is going to do and that’s fair). So anyways one time starting about 10 years ago (yeah) I took some characters from a couple of very obscure fandoms and also from some pieces of media that are obscure enough not to have any fandom at all and I made a bunch of very elaborate AU fanfics for them and developed all my favorite obscure tertiary characters from these obscure stories and created a whole network of relationships and personalities and then at one point I had a breakdown about never being able to explain any of this stupid idiot strange convoluted fanfiction to anyone because oops! it’s the only thing that makes me happy anymore! but it’s the worst fanfic in the world. it’s not recognizable as anything anyone’s ever seen before. the characters are just things I made up all on my own at this point. it has nothing to do with any story ever written before by another human being. And then I ate some macaroni and was like wait let’s just have it....... not be fanfiction anymore. Was it ever actually fanfiction? Guess we’ll never know.  And now I have OCs!!!!!!!!! But the problem is they only exist in like 86 different alternate universes all of which have their own storylines or at least...... the intention for storylines....... And none of those worlds has any precedence over any of the others so I’ve accidentally created the world’s most unnecessary social experiment (fiction experiment?): What if you had characters with no canonical plot or setting? What would that even mean? If a character’s profession, abilities, location, backstory, age, species, etc. change over and over and over with no “real” default to fall back on then who even are they? Starky oh no what is you doin? :( The answer to all these questions is of course I dunno ¯\_(ツ)_/¯ And we’re not getting into that stuff rn I’m just. trying my DAMNEDEST to explain why this is the first time in my entire existence on this planet that I’ve publicly posted anything about my stupid OCs. Because every character profile questionnaire and checklist out there is full of bits where I’d have to write in “it depends” and that’s boring. MUCH LIKE THIS POST!  For the record yes I know the solution is just pick a universe but I’ll be real with you chief, that’s a whole other post. But back to Steve. Now that you know what we can’t know about Steve, here are some things we can. Because Steve is in spite of all this a basically coherent character that you would be able to recognize, the way you’re able to recognize The Doctor in a new regeneration, or Castiel working in a coffee shop, or a piece of fanart of a podcast character. Here are some attributes Steve always has, whether he’s a baker or a robot or a dragon: --tragically, no, he’s not an actual catboy in most settings, but he always has some animal attribute, even if it’s only a kitty ear headband or facepaint whiskers or something --he likes cooking and dancing and rolling around in the dirt outside  --he is an Italian, and a deliberately stereotypical one, in every universe where Italy exists; in every universe where Italy does not exist he still talks with his hands and eats garlic and has an Italian accent but everyone is just like oh I guess that’s just how he is? --his facial features and such look as similar as possible throughout the AUs and you’ll see them below but I MUST also note that he is 1) a very pudgy boy, with fat reserves fit for the survival of much hardship, 2) strong enough to snap essentially any human person in half like a twig, no matter the universe, and the third thing is something I decided just now not to tell anyone because it’s sort of specific and bringing it up would probably make it seem like I have a weird fetish, which of course I don’t have! what part of this character so far could possibly be a weird fetish! certainly no more than 86% --his parents are abusive because I’d already given all the actually interesting and original backstories to other characters and that was the only one left for him, oops --he has dyslexia and forgets things a lot and often mixes up words and hyper-empathizes and has a disordered attachment style but out of all the wondrous weird and terrifying worlds he exists in, few of them have invented therapists, and even in the ones that have, they never really figure out what’s wrong with him; this is on purpose, because I, personally, wanted representation for people who have never even gotten the satisfaction of finding out exactly what’s wrong with us, because I’ve found there are a lot of us out there --he is a Pisces, an Enneagram type 2, and a bisexual; I’m only two out of those three things so no one’s allowed to yell at me about this --he has a special ability to be shipped with basically any other character possible, but most of the time he ends up with two people in the end: Angel, a beautiful boy without mercy, and Joanna, a stoned messiah And with that we’re stopping for now because I stayed up all night making this post and if I don’t post it immediately I’m going to read it over and rightly decide no one should ever see it and then go lie down and wish I were dead. Anyways I can’t draw but I can make horrible things using other ppl’s Picrews so here are some images of the boy to deal this post a killing blow:

(here are the picrew sources! I especially recommend this one (bottom left) because it has the largest array of different skintones which is a VERY important thing that we NEED to encourage picrew artists to provide more of!!!)  So that’s all. I wrote and deleted a paragraph of embarrassment below this but just know this is super lowkey and casually the most vulnerable thing I’ve ever done in my entire life. Thanks for letting me do it. If you have any thoughts about Steve, know that you’re officially the second person in existence ever to have thoughts about this idea. I hope that fact makes you feel super cool and special, because Steve and I think you are really super cool and special and awesome and kindhearted and beautiful. <3

[ma-sulevin]

002 for Hazel and Asha, 003 for Dot!

002 | Hazel Shepard/Kaidan Alenko

When I started shipping them:

Literally before I started playing the trilogy. I went in with the intention of romancing Kaidan and BOY did I ever.

My thoughts:

I have... many, many thoughts about them. I love how supportive Kaidan is, how he’s her rock, how he handles his own shit so he can be the best man he can. I love how he flirts and how serious he is and how he flirts with her during her house party by saying “you’re the boss, except when you’re not... and in that case, uh, find me later.”

He’s husband material 100%

What makes me happy about them:

How they fight through everything to be together again

What makes me sad about them:

How much they have to fight through to be together again :(

Things done in fanfic that annoys me:

When Kaidan is really jealous and mean and controlling? Absolutely not. He’d gnaw his own arm off before he acted like that.

Things I look for in fanfic:

Good, solid interpretations of Kaidan. No other male characters being assholes about it. Raunchy smut.

My wishlist:

For me to finish this stupid post-Destroy fic I’ve had in the WIP folder for like two years.

Who I’d be comfortable them ending up with, if not each other:

I like Kaidan with Cortez a lot a lot, honestly. In Avery’s AU, they end up together, and have a brief cameo at James’ going-away party.

Hazel would work out with James, especially once he gets past the hero-worshiping stage, but if Kaidan hadn’t rejoined the Normandy (and if James never made a move), she’d have ended up with Sam. She gets all nervous and tongue tied around her for the same reasons I would RIP

My happily ever after for them:

Hazel survives the Citadel, Kaidan makes it back on the Normandy, they reunite and live happily ever after with the dog. Sometimes Hazel gets to top Kaidan instead of the other way around. You know.

002 | Asha Trevelyan/Cullen Rutherford

When I started shipping them:

I think Asha was my second Inquisitor when I started playing the game? I made her with the intention of romancing Cullen, so, like, before I even started playing.

My thoughts:

I need DA4 to come out so I know what’s going to happen to them after they “retire” to South Reach.

What makes me happy about them:

They compliment each other really well in a quiet, reserved kind of way. Asha’s changed a lot since I first came up with her character; we’ve both grown up together and she’s less loud now. They go very well together.

What makes me sad about them:

It takes them for-fucking-ever to get together, like longer than in the game. Asha tells him she wants to be together and he’s like “but the miSsIOn” and she’s so mad at him she doesn’t talk to him for days, and then he feels guilty but doesn’t know what to do about it, and it isn’t until she starts to cry in front of him at the Winter Palace that he’s like “oh shit” and they actually do anything about it. Like, come on guys. Time’s wasting!

Things done in fanfic that annoys me:

I don’t think Cullen is naturally dominant in bed. He is with Asha because she likes it, and because she clearly explains and communicates her needs. I don’t think he’d start that himself with an Inquisitor.

Things I look for in fanfic:

No lyrium! Good sex. I’m thirsty.

My wishlist:

DA4.

Who I’d be comfortable them ending up with, if not each other:

I still like Dorian/Cullen, except I just remembered Dorian’s with Asha’s brother so I guess that wouldn’t work lmao. It’s been so long I’ve forgotten my own convoluted canons. Um... I also like Cullen/Josephine a whole bunch. I think Asha would do well with Blackwall or Bull or possibly even Krem.

My happily ever after for them:

I don’t have a solid answer for this like I have one for Cullen/Rose. I know they have a daughter (Maisie) and move to South Reach after the Inquisition is disbanded, but they don’t really get to relax and settle down. They have to keep working to save Thedas even though they’ve already done and sacrificed so much.

I’d like them to be able to truly retire, enjoy their little family and each other, and just be at peace knowing nothing terrible is happening in the world beyond their reach.

003 | Dot Gnomeface:

How I feel about this character:

My first D&D baby! I still have her sheet in dndbeyond because I can’t fully commit to her retirement.

Any/all the people I ship romantically with this character:

Her wife Sylvie of course! I maintain that Madrigal ( @long-liv-prairies) would have made a good girlfriend for them, but it never worked out.

My favorite non-romantic relationship for this character:

Torvald ( @ladydracarysao3 ), hands-down. Their dynamic was so adorable.

My unpopular opinion about this character:

Eustace the Cursed Sword was a fucking phenomenal idea on Walker’s part and I loved every second of having it.

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

She hated that she wasn’t able to stop the cult from killing Jinzael.

Favorite friendship for this character:

The whole gang, really.

My crossover ship:

None.

[sad-goomy]

1, 2, 9 and 10! =D

1. How do you approach worldbuilding (if it’s an AU) or research (if it’s an established canon)?

when I’m first outlining, I identify what parts of the AU world need to be fully fleshed out and structure them before I even start outlining further! with every story, I actually jot down a few inspiration sources, so I’ll look to those if I’m stuck in developing a magic system, economy, etc. smaller things that don’t serve a big part in the plot I’ll tend to develop only when they come up, taking a minute to pause in outlining or writing to figure that out and add it to the outline before continuing on

for canon, I’m hitting up Bulbapedia and gameplay videos to try and incorporate more pokemon details to flesh out the world, although I rarely stick to game mechanics or get too bogged down in the details

2. What do you do to understand the characters better and get into their head space?

I think the same way I’d get into character when I was a theater kid :P mostly keeping in mind their defining traits and motivations, along with the state of their relationships with everyone else in that scene, finding ways to empathize with their situation while considering what next step would seem most appealing to them (gosh this is a lot harder to explain that I thought it’d be)

sometimes I’ll add it into the outline, too, just to have a general picture of what their character arc will look like for the fic, considering what they want vs need, where they start vs end up, etc.

9. What are three weaknesses in your writing that you’re very aware of, that you’d like to spend time working on to improve your works?

my pacing can be a bit all over the place, my set dressing should probably more descriptive because I often just end up...not doing it...and the characters are in a blank room haha, and I’m always concerned about making sure action scenes are clear without getting so detailed that they circle back to convoluted

10. If you were to visit your past self now and give them a piece of writing advice, what would that advice be?

a cliche for sure, but kill your darlings

if a scene isn’t working, if a character isn’t cooperating, it’s better to cut your losses and move on, because nine times out of ten there’s a reason why and the fic would be better served without it or with it in a different place. sometimes it’s just a matter of coming back to it on a different day, but not every idea belongs in every fic, and less tends to be more (also, you can salvage those darlings by saving them in a separate doc and using them in something else if it makes you feel better haha)

Fanfic Writer Asks

[nadziejastar]

If BbS V2 really was what you theorized they might have been better off planning it as a series of shorts. A game about filling in the gaps of other games was probably a very hard sell for executives, regardless of how much the overall saga would benefit from it. With shorts it would be perfectly normal to jump around, there wouldn't have to be a flimsy excuse to shoehorn in Disney worlds if they weren't necessary for the story, and it might even be cheaper if 2D animation was acceptable.

— So what will it be?

I can’t say that quite yet, but it will be more “official” than a side story. I actually told the producer this recently, and he said “…what?” It’s the mystery KH. (laugh) Of course, I am also thinking about KH3.

— In an interview in the KH Days Ultimania, you said ‘I’m thinking of a mystery KH that made the producer go “what??”‘. Was that KH3D?

No, it wasn’t. I originally planned to make that after KHBBS, but we ended up making KH3D and the project was stopped. It’s a shame, but we won’t be starting that project again.

I think you are correct. The premise of the game seemed very weird and that’s probably a big reason why it got cancelled. But the story still really needed all the loose ends tied up in some way. FFXV got a short animated series called Brotherhood. I totally think KH3 could have benefited from something like that to fill in all the blanks. And fans would love seeing a 2D animated version of KH. I know I would.

The biggest issue the series had was that it was spread out across so many different handhelds. But the HD collections solved that problem. If the shorts were included in the HD collection, or made freely available, it could have worked really well. It’s no worse than making so much of KH3′s plot tie into Union X, which is less accessible than Brotherhood, for example.

A game about “blank points” was probably just too weird from a gameplay perspective, which I understand. I also agree about the Disney worlds. That also seemed like it might have been an issue. KH games suffer when the Disney worlds aren’t incorporated well. This isn’t an issue in games that feature new worlds like KH1, KH2, KHBBS, or KH3D. Even Days was mostly fine IMO. The worst offenders were CoM and Re:Coded which felt like the Disney worlds were just obligations and their plots were tired rehashes. KHUX Disney worlds were also very strange, too. Even 3D was weird since it used sleeping worlds. Stuff like that is why the series gets lambasted as being too confusing/convoluted.

— What about the missing 0.3?

We thought to tell the story of 0.5 with all three characters, but instead we decided on 0.2 with a focus on Aqua.

Honestly, I can’t even think of how Disney worlds would be incorporated into a lot of the “blank points” story. Nomura said KH0.5 was supposed to feature all of the wayfinder trio. Does that mean they would be playable? I dunno. Aqua was in the Dark Realm. That was a very unconventional world. It had Disney-themed locations, but it’s still not technically a Disney world. Story-wise, it was also unconventional, since she just spent all that time talking to herself until she briefly teamed up with Mickey.

I have no idea what Nomura planned to do with Ventus. Dream world? Or flashbacks to how he met Xehanort? Or he just wasn’t gonna be playable? Then there’s Terra, who was living as apprentice Xehanort and possessed. I don’t see how that functions gameplay-wise, unless it was something weird like you playing as the Lingering Will or something. There was the whole subplot of Namine communicating to the Lingering Will, which was poorly handled.

— Which worlds did Pluto travel when he had that letter?

I can say that he appeared in worlds that do not appear in the game [KH1]…. well, other than the current worlds, there are other worlds that the Heartless erased. The End of the World did not exist at first and is a world that is made up of erased worlds put together. Also, there is that place the door to Kingdom Hearts appears. At first that was another world, so that means that Sora and the others are now residing in that world which returned to what it once was.

— After debugging Traverse Town, the King says to Sora, “That day, your travels began here. Also on that day, I was here too.” Does that mean that the King was in the same place at the same time as Sora adventured into Traverse Town in Kingdom Hearts I?Seems so. What he was actually doing becomes the previously mentioned “blank time period”, but in this title, it’s implying that the two crossed paths in the same place.

Mickey probably would have been playable. In Blank Points, we saw him in the Dark Realm, and his blank period in Traverse Town was something Nomura specifically said he wanted to show. I guess he might have visited Disney worlds with Pluto and we could have played in those? I don’t know if that world that was shown in the end of KH1, the grassy place with the crossroads, was supposed to be important. It sounded like Nomura wanted to explain why Pluto was there with Mickey’s letter, though.

— About the World of Darkness and such, you haven’t gone into detail. Could you possibly talk about some of these things? Does the beach at the beginning and end of KH II have some connection to the World of Darkness?

Presently there are 4 main untold stories to consider: “the period of the King’s absence”, “the period of Riku’s absence”, “Roxas’s time in Organization XIII” and “Xehanort’s past”. In this case, the story of “the period of the King’s absence” is set in the realm of darkness. I am examining a way to tell these 4 stories so I might be able to find a way to tell them soon.

Young Xehanort’s past was another blank period. Him visiting Disney worlds is…possible, I guess. The best candidate for visiting Disney worlds is Riku, though. Nomura said he wanted to cover Riku’s period of absence, which probably includes KH1-2. In KH1, he was a bad guy and in Blank Points, he was shown in Neverland. Monstro is another possibility and that might have been intended to connect to the Monstro subplot in KH3D with Dark Riku. We also saw Riku in Twilight Town watching Roxas and Xion, so his Days period is open. Then there’s his period of absence in KH2, which opens up those worlds. In the novels, we know Riku spent most of his time in KH2 with Namine and Axel, and he also kept an eye on Sora, like during The Land of Dragons and the Beast’s Castle.

I didn’t notify you but you might’ve already heard from Yen Sid-sama. I’ve come to train to become a Keyblade wielder. Until now, I’ve only been waiting for you guys to come back from your journey. Maybe with this I can at least help out a little.

The magician Merlin-sama can use magic that surpasses time. Here, we can forget about the flow of time. Isn’t it great? Lea’s training with me. He apologized to me over and over again. It’s alright, I’d say, but he’d keep on apologizing…

At first I was a bit scared but as we trained together we started talking to each other. I found out Lea also has a best friend he wants to save. I felt like, he’s not a person that I can bring myself to hate…

Sometimes….. He’d stare at my face, so I’d ask him, what’s wrong? “I don’t know, but I feel like it’s something I must recall”, he’d say…

Your journey is a journey that will help many people and the people you’ll meet from now on. I have a feeling these people you meet will also need your help. The journey might be hard but please stay as the cheerful and bright Sora I know. Because your smile, will save many hearts…..

Then there’s Lea and Kairi. I guess we could have played through their training and the world could be based on The Sword in the Stone? I figured that was what the forest area in KH3 was supposed to be, but I dunno. Then they could have flashbacks during their training. I think we were definitely supposed to get more scenes of Lea and Kairi talking to each other, where she learns that he has a best friend he wants to save. It was obviously referring to Isa. KH3D was all about Lea looking for him, and he summoned his Keyblade immediately after learning that Isa was a vessel.

It doesn’t take a brain surgeon to see where that subplot was going. Lea was training to rescue Isa. Roxas being Axel’s “best friend” in KH2 was supposed to be a red herring—a pretty well-written one at that. People just didn’t pick up on it due to Roxas’s popularity bias. I doubt Lea would have told Kairi all the details of him and Isa being human test subjects. Like, she still didn’t understand why he didn’t wanna take off his black coat in KH3. But he’d tell her enough to know that he has a best friend who is a vessel and we’d learn what happened. It would have made their closeness in KH3 a lot more understandable if Kairi knew about his past. In his heart, he could tell that Kairi was Xion, too. And that’s how I’m gonna do it in my fanfic. :)

After KHBBSV2 was cancelled, Lea had no backstory anymore, so I guess we were just supposed to conclude that Lea was referring to Roxas in Kairi’s letter when he said he wanted to save his best friend. Which is just…dumb and insulting to the audience’s intelligence. Lea knew even in 358/2 Days that Roxas looked like Ventus. He said he kept it a secret from Roxas, so he obviously knew for a long time. It sounded like he realized it as soon as he met him, which is why he got so nostalgic for his childhood right after meeting Roxas.

Before he started his training with Kairi, he also knew that Ventus was one of the lost Keyblade wielders they were all looking for. Up until Yen Sid’s tower, Lea thought that Ventus was going to remember him as Axel. That’s how he was going to reunite with “Roxas”. He had no reason to think he needed to rescue “Roxas”, since that was Sora’s job and he was handling that. Of course he was referring to Isa in that letter.

Eh, I dunno. It’s possible we’d get to play as young Lea during his flashbacks in Radiant Garden. During the experiments, maybe he was tasked with Heartless clean-up duty inside the castle. He doesn’t have a Keyblade, though. Just his frisbees. It’d be unusual to have him be playable, but not impossible. If so, that opens up the castle, like the Hollow Bastion areas from KH1. All in all, the gameplay part of BBSV2 seemed pretty strange and the Disney worlds didn’t seem completely necessary, either. I think a series of animated shorts could have worked phenomenally well.

[twobellsilence]

Fanfic review #8 - “Shutter Speeds no Teema” by Shiira

Now that we’re done with CSS 203, it’s time to move on to another fic site I found on my escapades to the Internate Archive - Dreams and Illusion. This one has a HUGE list, so I’ll only be reviewing the fics that have caught my attention in some way or another (or else we’d be here forever). Now, I had planned to start this again once I was done with the entire page, but I stumbled upon a piece of work that affected me so much I couldn’t help but break my own rules and post this early.

That fanfic is  “Shutter Speeds no Teema” by Shiira.

Really, there have been pretty impressive works in here, and I’m quite excited to talk about them down the line, but this one in particular shook me to my very core. It’s one of the best HisaJiro fanfics I’ve ever read, even outside of GeoCities - I even like it slightly more than Mako’s work. And if you read my thoughts about Mako’s fics, then you probably know I LOVED those.

Watch out, this one’s the longest rant on this series yet.

Let me start by pointing out the stars of this fic - Hisashi and Jiro. It may sound silly, it being HisaJiro and all, but believe me when I tell you this is the aspect most of the pieces of writing I’ve read fail at. As you may know, I don’t really ship any of these guys, so I come into these fanfics with the tiniest bit of skepticism - even if I know their dynamic can be easily turned into an interesting ship, I’d rather sit back and watch the relationship develop, or at least take in the indicators of why and how the ship works if they’re already together. Sure, if you’re a HisaJiro fan you probably wouldn’t have a problem with any of these, but the issue lies in stories that try to explain how they hit it off; they usually take bonding for granted and attempt to match the characters right off the bat, which more often than not ends up in disaster or at least coming off as incredibly jarring. However, this fanfic handles all of this perfectly - it’s actually a bit of a slow burn, taking the characters the entire prologue and following 12 chapters to realize their love for each other, and that alone gives it a lot more room to develop and shape the couple. The author fully utilizes the length to their advantage, shedding light on every single one of the characters’ thoughts and feelings and using the time to make the relationship grow at a very natural pace. And really, that’s one of the things I love the most about this fic - Hisashi and Jiro’s relationship feels so natural, so right. The two have amazing chemistry and compliment each other so well that every single step they take feels earned and it’s very satisfactory to watch them grow. You can tell they love each other a whole lot, and it isn’t shoved in your face at each turn - instead, you can see it through every little action, word, thought and even the uncanny similarities between them.

It doesn’t stop there, though. Their dynamic is amazing, but the way they’re established as individual characters is also worthy of praise. I LOVED Hisashi and Jiro in here. Sure, they can be infuriating sometimes - they’re both as hard-headed and stubborn as a goddamn bull - but that’s just part of the charm. Jiro is the main protagonist, and I can say that’s probably the best decision the author could’ve taken given the plot and direction of the fic. It really helps solidify Hisashi’s character arc, since seeing it through Jiro’s eyes helps you spot all the little details in Hisa’s actions, and even though Jiro is confused by many of them you as a reader know what they *actually* mean. It is also very interesting to see Jiro’s inner struggles; he loves Hisashi with all his heart, but is convinced that the blue-haired guitarist will never feel the same about him because c’mon, it’s Hisashi we’re talking about here. And so you get parts where he attempts to justify Hisa’s moves and denies any sort of proof that he may feel the same about him, using the guitarist’s relationship with Teru (which I’m going to talk about later on) as a scapegoat to stop himself from getting any ideas. This, of course, is detrimental to Jiro’s state of mind, and as painful as it is it’s also fascinating to witness his slow descent into despair as time goes on, Hisashi’s moves become more and more apparent and his jealousy and hostility towards Teru grows worse. And I haven’t even mentioned Reiko. Yes, Reiko is in here, and I’m going to talk about her later on too, but for now all I’ll say is that she plays a key role in the climax of Jiro’s arc and works as a perfect element to help develop his and Hisa’s relationship and character. All this is complemented by Jiro’s base personality which, I must add, is based on his real self rather than his onstage persona, which is honestly the cherry on top as it makes everything even more realistic and tangible.

As for Hisashi, he’s honestly a treat. You see him struggle with his feelings a lot - he has zero social skills and doesn’t know how to display his feelings towards Jiro, so when he tries to leave his indifferent mask behind he ends up trying too hard and it’s just hilarious sometimes. Not that it’s a bad thing, since he does push the right (and wrong at some points) buttons in certain situations and contributes to the way the plot moves forward. It also helps a whole lot when he becomes more comfortable with Jiro, since you can clearly see he’s learned and grown based on how his actions change over the course of the story after this. And really, his behavior is a breath of fresh air compared to almost everything I had read so far - we’re treated to a softer, more sentimental side of his, which I honestly like more than the rough edge he has on most HisaJiro fics. Sure, he’s also kind of mean here in the beginning, but we quickly learn it’s all just a facade to mask his feelings, and while he and Jiro do share their signature rival banter here and there it eventually evolves into a joke between the two and it’s apparent both of them enjoy it. I also really, really like the twist the author included where instead of Jiro approaching Hisashi, it’s Hisashi approaching Jiro, and it carries through the story all the way until the end where it’s Hisashi who seeks Jiro to confess despite the bassist being in constant denial; again, this shows a more human side to Hisashi that really makes the character feel more impactful.

If I was to pick my favorite thing about this fanfic, though, it would be the plot in general. It’s excellent. Everything is planned out perfectly, every single detail is there for a reason, and everything *happens* for a reason. There are no plot points that come out of nowhere (save for a kind of major exception, but we’ll discuss that a little bit later), so the story flows naturally and realistically. All arcs happen in the right time, all locations and settings are strategically planned, and it’s a marvel to sit through. You can tell the author put A LOT of planning, time and effort into this, and it truly paid off in a spectacular way. Not only that, but it’s driven by Hisashi and Jiro themselves - it doesn’t move because it needs to, but rather because the *main characters* push it forward, making their development and dynamics shine and making the story as a whole work to near perfection. And I haven’t even talked about transitions - some of them are ABSOLUTELY GENIUS and I had to take a moment to appreciate them even more because lord, they flow so well that it’s almost unnoticeable, but at the same time it connects Hisashi and Jiro even further not only as part of the same story but as soulmates, too, which is an extremely original way to add to their relationship. As a little sidenote, I’d like to point out the relationship between the title and the story - it seemed like kind of an odd choice at first, but really, it becomes even more and more fitting as the story progresses.

There is one big flaw here, though, and that is the way down to the resolution. Again, the settings themselves are just on point, and the situations are structured in such a way that they flow well together, but it ends up coming off as slightly convoluted because of the characters involved. The author took a huge risk by making Jiro drunk in this scenario; it justifies his wild actions up to some point, but the reactions of everyone else to his tirades aside from Hisashi break it somewhat - this is something I’ll talk a bit later on however, since rather than an issue with the plot it’s more of an issue with the side characters themselves. Thankfully the conclusion is incredibly sweet and satisfying, although that doesn’t remove the fact that the road to it is a bit rocky on the end.

That said, I guess it’s about time to talk about the rest of the cast, and here’s where my problems with this fic truly begin. We got Ayu, Hisa’s pet cat, which is always a welcome plus - not only is he adorable, but he’s also used as an extremely valid excuse to kickstart Hisashi and Jiro’s journey and illustrate some of the boys’ thoughts about each other. There’s also Reiko, Jiro’s girlfriend; she, although a side character, is one of the main and most important plot points and also has a character arc herself, which grounds her character even more and deepens Jiro and Hisashi’s conflicts in the story. I found her to be extremely likeable - yes, she was kind of egotistical in the beginning, but she has no ill intent and truly loves Jiro. She learns from her mistakes and actively tries to becomes a better person, and as time goes by you can feel her dread as she desperately tries to salvage her and Jiro’s relationship, doing her best to fix things despite her knowing it’s no use, which is heartbreaking to watch. It doesn’t help that all this comes right at the climax of the story, reinforcing the dramatic effect of everything. And, sadly, the author did her dirty by leaving her hanging almost at the end, which is the forgotten plot point I mentioned on the previous paragraph - she and Jiro have a conversation that would have been CRUCIAL to the story, but neither it or Reiko herself were mentioned again afterwards, which makes me wonder if the author just forgot about her or ended up cutting her for convenience’s sake (because let’s be honest, the story is already complex enough, and her existence and role makes it even worse).

As for the rest of the band, they’re here, too. As I mentioned earlier, Teru plays a big role in the story, and the way he’s presented ties in really well with the continuity of everything; he is, in fact, one of the main factors that drive Jiro and Hisashi’s arc along with Reiko, and I must say I really enjoyed the way his relationship with Hisashi is portrayed in here. They’re really close, basically like brothers, so they tease and interact with each other in ways that would seem deeper to any outsider - especifically Jiro. His personality is also on point, he’s a forgetful, happy-go-lucky airhead that loves to have a good time but ultimately cares about his loved ones and acts like moral support when things get serious. The only issue I have with him is how he calls Hisashi and Jiro bitches at some points in the story; this is, I reckon, a bit too strong of a word for Teru to actually use in these contexts, especially considering these are his friends we’re talking about here, and it seems kind of out of character, at least in my opinion. But that’s nothing compared to the worst part of this fic: Takuro. Now, I know what you’re thinking, and yes, I know I am extremely biased in this situation. But even though Takuro is one of my most recurrent nitpicks in these reviews, that never actually affects my overall opinion since he’s not influential to the story most of the time; here, however, he’s a complete mess and the flow of the story suffers because of it. The author presents him as this grouchy, workaholic man who can’t even greet people before nagging them to get down to work. He doesn’t seem to actually care about any of the members - his only concern is his music, and it isn’t his problem if the others are feeling down or have any other bigger issue. This alone clashes with the sort of camaraderie the author is trying to implement into the band’s dynamic, but that’s not all; his character isn’t consistent, so he constantly fluctuates from mean to sweet whenever the plot needs him to and it does not work at all. Him trying to be supportive seems really out of character and, most importantly, out of place in a story where every single character is grounded and feels real since their very first introduction. Hell, even Toshi, who only has a couple of lines, has a more cohesive character than Takuro himself. And it doesn’t stop there - he actually plays key parts in pushing the story around, so while the plot itself is nearly flawless Takuro’s confusing personality and actions make it feel almost forced in a sense. Even settling for that crusty persona we were introduced to at first would have cleared up almost all of the narrative mess left after the climax, thus lessening the negative impact of Hisashi’s state of mind and Jiro’s drunkenness on the flow of the resolution.

Eve then, despite all the issues (which, let’s face it, aren’t that many) I may have with this fanfic, I can not deny how utterly gorgeous it is. Even with the small inconsistencies, even with the couple of questionable character choices, this piece of work is one of the most high quality you’ll find out there. Regardless if you ship HisaJiro or just want to have a good time, this fanfic will not disappoint - it’s an amazing choice and I can’t recommend it enough. Excellent protagonists, a great plot, a beautiful relationship built on trust and genuine love and a clean narrative and grammatical structure (save for the lack of breaks, which can be confusing sometimes, but it’s a nitpick more than anything) make Shutter Speeds no Teema a wonderful read.

[smokedcapybara]

I just had a realization that kinda totally changed my perspective on a big part of my life

I was reading a Dear Evan Hansen fanfic and realized, through a convoluted thought process I’m not going to explain right now, that if Connor Murphy had been a real person and had gone to my high school at the same time as I did chances are I would’ve befriended him

it’s an idea I dismissed without much thought when I first joined the fandom, based entirely off the anxiety and fear of people that heavily affected my first couple years of high school

but now that I’ve taken the time to analyze his behavior in the musical and take into account more than just my anxiety on my end of things I’ve realized that initial dismissal was wrong

throughout the five years I was in high school I gradually built a web of friends, seeking out as many of the outcasts and misfits as I could and doing my best to give them a group

by the time I graduated it was my thing, I was the senior with several friends in every grade - all people who felt they didn’t fit in with the bigger group

I had like over a dozen different friend groups I was part of that were all tangled together

so I would definitely have done my best to find a way to bring Connor into all that

now to explain what’s so big and important about this whole realization

for most of my life my brother was part of every friend group I had

(I didn’t find out until after high school that he hadn’t actually seen any of them as friends, which kinda made everything worse)

you see, he wasn’t just part of all my friend groups from mid-elementary school until he left high school

no, he was the leader of all my friend groups from around mid-elementary school until he left high school

starting with the little six person club I founded when I was in, like third or fourth grade: the club was structured off the stereotypical wolf pack and we voted on the two leaders, my brother and my friend Destiny won that vote

cut to about a year after our move to Texas I’ve finally cemented my new friend group: four boys who all practically worshiped my brother, and since three of them lived just a street over they were convenient people for him to hang out with so he ended up calling the shots more often than not

that’s when I started to get bitter; we’d started talking about starting a “Texas branch” of our old club and my brother declared that he should be the leader because he’d been the leader back in Kent, instead of voting like we’d done before - of course everyone else went along with it eagerly

my brother is a very charismatic person, a natural leader

I didn’t find out until he left high school that I’m good at leading too, when my anxiety doesn’t get in the way

after we moved back up to Washington I made new friends relatively quickly: I was the only ‘girl’ in my special ed class and all the boys wanted to impress me (to be honest it really helped my self-esteem that they’d always glance back at me right after they made a joke to see my reaction)

and then they met my brother, and of course him and my best friend hit it off immediately and spent the whole afternoon playing card games while I was left to sit alone, that’s when my jealousy started getting bad

me and my little friend group started high school and by the end of the year we’d been pulled into my brother’s friend group, along with a handful of other people, because of the weekly rp games we’d all play

they were really fun and I loved them, but my brother was, of course, a natural dm and so was more often than not in charge of these hangouts

and my friends tended to be more eager to hang out at the weekly rp sessions than any other time

for the next few years every time I made a new friend they’d eventually end up at the weekly rp session or they’d meet my brother at lunch and hit it off with him

my sophomore year the friend who’d gotten me through the drama class my mom had enrolled me in in eighth grade was a freshman, I reconnected with him the same day my brother officially met him - and of course he was more interested in hanging out with my brother than me

I had maybe three friends that didn’t feel like they liked my brother more than me through the entirety of those years

and so my whole life I’ve lived under that thought - my brother was always the leader of my friend groups and I was always overshadowed by him

but then today I thought about how I would’ve befriended Connor Murphy, how I would’ve pulled him into the web I’d so carefully and incidentally crafted, how I would’ve given him a place or a person to listen like I’d given dozens of kids by the time I graduated

sure, when Mike was in high school my main group was dominated and dictated by those weekly rp sessions he led but after he left

after he left I built something so much greater, to me, than those weekly sessions

I became the person who would sit with a different group at lunch each day so none would feel like I was neglecting or forgetting them - and I had a good number of groups to sit with

I became the person who always had someone to talk to or just sit with before school

I became the person who had nearly a dozen freshman looking up to them and hoping for their approval

I became the person who everyone knew would do their best to be there for you if you were struggling, even if just in offering a hug

I became the one person who could mediate between the kid with authority issues and the teacher he always butted heads with - because they both respected me and trusted me to look rationally at and understand both sides

I became the person who, when I had to go to the office because I couldn’t do a required assignment (I don’t know why but the idea of writing letters always triggered my anxiety and making it a “either do the assignment or go to the office” thing really didn’t help, even though I was also terrified of the office) the whole class apparently rebelled against the teachers after I left and declared they weren’t doing the assignment either - even the kids who always did the assignments (the friend who told me made it sound like I was the martyr who’d inspired a revolution)

the whole time, while I did see this to some extent and it did make me feel good about myself, I was still overshadowed by that jealousy of my brother, that thought that he would always be better than me

but now I see that he really wasn’t

he gave a couple dozen kids a bunch of fun and a charismatic leader for four years

I gave somewhere between twenty and fifty kids someone who they knew would dedicate as much effort as possible to being there for them, listening to and seeing them, encouraging their hobbies, complimenting their skills, someone who they knew would always do their utmost to understand them

Michael gave them a game that he always led, I gave them a place to belong

so really, I think I actually did much better than him

[writesandramblings]

The Captain’s Secret - p.68

“To Fill Up My Hand”

A/N: Title is from "If You Go Away," the variant sung by Emiliana Torrini, et alii.

I really enjoyed fortune cookies before I started this fanfic. As of this chapter, I've eaten roughly fifty of them and the novelty has worn off. And yes, once again, 100% random draws that ended up unexpectedly apropos at a few spots.

Full Chapter List Part 1 - Objects in Motion << Part 67 -  Einstein on the Beach Part 69 - The Order of Things >>

Memory Alpha made sense as a four-person operation and Lalana suggested they each choose one person.

"This is not a democracy," said Lorca, fixing her with a wry frown. He was trying to be patient, but as usual she was not making it easy.

She looked down at him from her perch. "Einar can pilot the shuttle and provide his gun and that is one less person you need to allow to learn about me." At least she had not suggested O’Malley. He and Lorca were still avoiding each other.

Lorca considered Larsson. He was a solid security officer and, if Lorca was being honest, a good choice for all of Lalana's listed reasons. The problem was who to take as the fourth person if he accepted Larsson as part of the mission.

Some part of him really wanted to bring Michael Burnham, but he questioned if she would approve of the mission parameters. An unauthorized heist operation at the Federation's premiere cultural and scientific library? It seemed decidedly counter to Burnham's "I am Starfleet" principles.

He still wanted to bring her. He also wanted Ash Tyler because Tyler's loyalty was unquestionable and if Lorca asked him to help steal a strange alien box, Federation legal documents, and encrypted Starfleet personnel files, Tyler would do so without a second thought or request for any explanation.

Problem was, Tyler's skillset completely overlapped with Larsson's. They were both security officers who could pilot shuttles.

Lorca growled and covered his face with his hands. Lalana's tail brushed his shoulder.

"Tell me what you are thinking," she said.

"I'd rather have Tyler," said Lorca. "It's not that I don't like Einar, but..."

"Then bring Tyler."

"Tyler and Larsson do the same thing. We need a diversification of skills," he said. This was a very subtle way of addressing the fact he needed someone who could deftly navigate the notoriously immense Memory Alpha archives without tipping his hand as to why exactly such a person was necessary. Really, Airiam would be ideal, but she was entirely conspicuous and easily traced back to Discovery. Owosekun? Tilly? ... Was he seriously considering Cadet Sylvia Tilly right now?

He still wanted Tyler. If things went sideways, Tyler would sacrifice himself to protect Lorca. The same could not be said of most people. "I want Tilly and Tyler," he announced.

"That is five people," said Lalana, "unless you are not counting me as a person."

"We're not taking Larsson," said Lorca.

"I'm so happy I was picked for this mission! I can't believe I've gone from absolutely no mission experience to three away missions in the space of three months! And just a year ago I was still at the Academy!" This was not accounting for null time because, after considering the fact that her birthday had not changed, Tilly had decided that in a very real sense, null time did not really count.

"It's a big move up," agreed Tyler in the sort of patient tone that suggested he had come to like Tilly well enough as a friend to not be bothered by this burst of chatty enthusiasm.

"Did the captain tell you what the mission is?"

Tyler smiled at her. "I know exactly as much as you do."

The conference room doors opened. "Lieutenant Tyler, Cadet Tilly."

"Sir!" said Tilly, jumping up from her seat to attention. Tyler rose as well, but at a slower, normal pace, even though in his experience the conference room was not a location Lorca expected people to display such rigid formality.

"At ease, cadet," offered Lorca with a shake of his head. In addition to Tilly's usual overzealousness, they seemed to be short a person. "We're waiting on one more." He crossed his arms and checked the time. The whole point of arriving two minutes late was that the rest of the meeting's attendees were supposed to already be there.

"I just want to say what an honor this is, sir, to be selected..." The withering look on Lorca's face drained the enthusiasm from Tilly's voice. She managed to offer a small, unsteady "thank you" and shrank back into her seat. Tyler bit back a grin. He'd spent enough time with Lorca at this point to recognize the captain's sense of humor was sometimes a little bit cruel.

Finally, the doors opened. "Lieutenant Larsson," drawled Lorca with displeasure. "Good of you to finally join us."

Larsson shrugged at Lorca in a way that suggested he was not going to offer an explanation, which was fine, because Lorca had no interest in wasting any further time hearing one. Larsson took a seat on the side of the table opposite Tilly and Tyler.

Lorca remained standing. "Cadet, lieutenant. You are about to be read into a project aboard Discovery which only a handful of people know exists. This goes above and beyond the existence of the spore drive. When I say you can tell no one, I mean not your friends, not your roommate, not your lunch buddy." For Tyler and Tilly these three things described the same person: Michael Burnham. "Can you do that?"

"Of course, sir," said Tyler.

Tilly felt a shiver of excitement. The spore drive was already top secret to the extreme. It just so happened that everyone on Discovery knew about it because it affected the whole ship. This was clearly one of the myriad smaller projects that did not merit the knowledge of the ship at large, and since Tilly knew full well where Larsson was stationed, she had a pretty good guess what experiment it was. "My lips are sealed, sir!"

Tyler glanced over at Larsson. He noted Lorca had not said Larsson needed to be read in, and judging by the smug look on Larsson's face, this was entirely intentional.

"As I'm sure you're aware, there are a number of Federation projects working to break through the Klingons' cloaking technology. Here on Discovery, we have one of our own. Computer, lock doors, my override, and open a visual to Lab 26, section two."

A pair of giant green eyes set into soft grey-blue fur appeared on the monitor. "Greetings, Ash Tyler and Sylvia Tilly. My name is Lalana. It is an absolute pleasure to meet you."

The mission parameters were deceptively simple. "We're going to pick something up from Memory Alpha. Now, because we suspect our transit protocols have been breached—which would explain my being scooped up by Klingons not too long ago—we're going in totally dark. This mission is too important to risk any word of it getting back to the Klingons and we are the only ship that can get this cargo where it needs to go without risk of interception."

There were a lot of specifics to go over. They were fabricating a fake lului box to take the place of the one currently abandoned by Federation researchers so no one would notice the real box had gone missing until a more thorough examination of the box at some future point, ideally after the war and potentially providing an opportunity for the real box to be returned without anyone the wiser. For their cover story, they were delivering an alien cultural data core in a crate somewhat larger than was necessary. Then there was the shuttle, which was being temporarily disguised as part of Starfleet's general transport fleet rather than a shuttle from Discovery.

It was a beautifully complicated, thorough plan with contingencies upon contingencies, though many of those alternative details Lorca kept to himself for use if the need arose. The better part of tactical brilliance was internal preparation, and the smaller but potentially more impressive part was knowing what contingencies everyone needed to know beforehand and which ones were best kept in the back pocket to be pulled out when needed.

Lorca provided Stamets the coordinates and watched Stamets' eyes widen. "This is... this is halfway across the quadrant!"

"We can break it into smaller jumps if it's too far."

Stamets considered that. "The more jumps we do, the greater the chance of detection." Lorca had made abundantly clear the need for this mission to be invisible. The coordinates were not even to be shared with the rest of Stamets' engineering team.

"And in the event of an emergency, we're gonna want to jump all the way back," noted Lorca.

Stamets’ head shook with disbelief, but it was more a way of clearing that disbelief than succumbing to it. "Well, all right. I guess if it's not going to be possible, we may as well figure it out on the way there. And possibly all die in the process!" In his new, mycelially-charged state of mind, Stamets did not sound overly bothered by the prospect. It was a far cry from that first test when Lorca had suggested Stamets ought to press the button in case the drive killed them all.

Lastly, there was also the matter of the real reason Lorca had agreed to this entire charade. He pulled Tilly aside. "I'm giving you a secondary objective, cadet. You know your way around the Memory data archives, don't you?"

She did. She had used them extensively at the academy and continued to take advantage of every educational reference that might prove useful to her current work with the mycelium spore drive. The indices at Memory Alpha were notoriously convoluted, but someone who had used the system as much as Tilly had stood a fair chance of gathering the information needed in a reasonable amount of time. "Sir?"

"I need a few files. Preferably without a repeat of that little debacle in the engineering lab. Remember that?"

Tilly paled. That moment before Discovery's initial spore jump test remained one of her more unfortunate memories on the ship.

"Sir, I... In light of that, maybe, maybe I'm not the right person for this mission."

"Oh, you are. Because I know you won't make the same mistake twice." Lorca smiled at her, reminding her of the moment they had first met in front of Starfleet Headquarters.

Tilly realized it was a chance to redeem herself. That time in the engineering lab, she had been so flustered and eager to impress she had tripped over herself. In the time since, she had devised an anti-spore that helped free them from null time, helped ascertain what had happened to the Glenn, and most recently accompanied Burnham in the nebula to save Sarek. She had a better sense now what she was capable of. "I won't let you down, sir!"

"The files I need you to get are gonna seem a little strange, but I need them for a good reason. I also need you to keep every detail about these files to yourself. You can't tell anyone what they are, or even that I asked you to get them." Lorca took a deep breath. "I'm trusting you with this, Tilly."

Tilly watched Lorca's smile disappear into an expression of grim resignation and realized this was something important to Lorca. When he said he was trusting her, he really meant it. She hesitated, wavered a moment in light of that responsibility, then looked at Lorca with confidence and determination. That look told Lorca everything he needed to know. When she spoke, her voice was filled an earnest resolve to match. "How high would you like me to jump, sir?"

Lorca smiled. Perfect.

They disabled Discovery's transponder, left the relay in the asteroid field as a decoy, and prepared to jump. Saru took command of Discovery from the bridge while Lorca made a final check of preparations in the shuttle bay, Tilly and Tyler at his side. "Looks like we've got everything, sir," said Tilly. She was responsible for the decoy lului box and false data core.

"Almost," said Lorca, tugging at the cuffs of the environmental suit that would serve as his disguise. Tyler smiled. With the helmet on, no one was even going to suspect Lorca was human, much less recognize him as Discovery's captain. Tyler moved to do a system check at the shuttle controls.

The crucial thing they were missing was the guest of honor. The shuttle bay doors opened. Lalana and Larsson arrived.

Lalana immediately leapt as far as she could across the breadth of the shuttle bay, surprising Tilly with the display. "It is so good to jump again!" she exclaimed, loping over to Lorca with full-length strides.

"Guess you've been cooped up a while," said Lorca. While Lalana never complained about the confinement, there was hardly space in the lab for any sort of acrobatics. "We've got a few minutes. Have at it."

Lalana spun her hands and immediately began bounding across the shuttle bay, jumping, running, and rolling with enthusiasm. Lorca chuckled. Tilly's eyes tracked Lalana's every move with rapt amazement.

Larsson joined them at the shuttle, only provisionally interested in their state of readiness. He was holding a thermal suit for Lalana. "Looks like I got my promotion," he commented to Lorca, pretending to dust off the lieutenant commander pips on his badge.

"Despite your ongoing tardiness," said Lorca, fixing Larsson with a frown. Larsson smirked. This assignment was only ever temporary for him. After the war's end, he was going to leave Starfleet again and write another book.

From the bridge, Saru reported they were ready to make the jump. Lorca reminded Saru he was in command and it was his call.

"Yes, of course," said Saru. Lorca could not see the way Saru's fingers tightened on the arms of the captain's chair. For three hours he was again going to be in command without any oversight or ability to consult Lorca, and this time he was going to make sure there were no mistakes. "Very well. Black alert."

They jumped. Lorca checked the nearest console and confirmed they were at the intended coordinates, though the majority of the ship had no clue what those coordinates were. "Lorca to Stamets. How'd it go?"

There was a delay before Stamets responded and a slightly dazed tone to Stamets' voice that gave Lorca concern. "We made it!" said Stamets. "I just need..." He did not say what he needed.

Tilly registered concern. "Lieutenant? Are you okay?" she asked.

"I'm totally fine, captain. Just a little thirsty."

"Be ready to jump again in three hours," said Lorca. It was the amount of time allocated for this excursion.

"Three hours," echoed Stamets. "Oww-ers. How-ers?"

Lorca frowned. "Lorca out."

Tilly chewed her lip. "He just gets a little disoriented after a jump sometimes, and that was a big jump," she said after a moment, reassuring herself as much as Lorca. Stamets was acting as a biocomputer in a way no one ever had before; a few hiccups were to be expected.

Lalana bounded back over to Lorca. "I suppose it is time for us to go. Einar?" Larsson handed Lalana her thermal suit. The design and material were unfamiliar to Lorca. It was silvery and lightweight and the material clung to Lalana snugly when she stepped into it. There was a hum and her epithelial filaments emerged through a microscopic mesh. She shifted color to pink and then yellow. As she did, the reflective qualities of the material seemed to take on the same color she did. In other words, a thermal suit that could change color with her.

"Oh my gosh!" went Tilly. "That is so cool."

"Actually, it is very warm," said Lalana, "which is important because otherwise I might freeze to death in the event of an emergency."

Ridiculous, as usual. "Time to go," Lorca informed them. Tilly and Larsson took their seats.

Lalana hung back with Lorca at the shuttle's rear as he closed the door. "A word?" she asked.

Lorca told Tyler to take off. The shuttle rose smoothly into the air and slid out into vacuum of space. Lorca looked down at Lalana. "What is it?"

"I have noticed a certain degree of dissatisfaction during our preparations for this mission. Was it truly so bad that I insisted on bringing Einar?"

Lorca shook his head. "It's fine." Lalana had made a clear case that, as much as Tyler was Lorca's man, Larsson was hers, and she trusted him to protect her as Tyler did Lorca. Yes, the mission now had five people, but that was an acceptable compromise.

"Then, is it Michael Burnham?"

Lorca's mouth fell open in surprise. "How did you..."

"You have often spoken of her capabilities, and indeed, have sent her on every away mission since she arrived on Discovery, but for this one, you chose Cadet Tilly, even though Burnham's qualifications exceed Tilly in this area, as in most. Why?" Lorca did not immediately answer, frowning and looking away. He could not say that the problem was Burnham asked too many questions and he was secretly using Tilly to steal files relating to Lalana's labmates. Lalana tilted her head. "It is all right, you do not have to answer. But we are supposed to be enjoying ourselves, so put aside the fact Burnham is not with us and let us have some fun!"

The smile on Lorca's face was irrepressible. Fun, indeed. "All right, everyone," he announced, moving into the main part of the shuttle and grabbing the box of fortune cookies he had stashed earlier. They each took one.

"Be moderate where pleasure is concerned, avoid fatigue," read Tilly aloud.

Tyler had "Your work interests can capture the highest status or prestige," while Larsson's was "For better luck, you have to wait till spring."

"Sing and rejoice, fortune is smiling on you," said Lalana. "That is a lovely sentiment, though, I cannot sing."

Lorca smirked. Lalana seemed to end up with fortunes that did not apply to her on a regular basis. He revealed his own fortune. "All your hard work will soon pay off."

"Damn it," said Larsson. "Why does everyone else have a good fortune except me?"

"Is mine good?" asked Tilly doubtfully, squinting at it.

"No," Larsson told her, "but it is not as bad as mine. God damn it! Give me another one." Lorca took pity on Larsson. Larsson broke open the cookie with such abandon crumbs got everywhere. He stared at the new paper, still displeased.

"What does it say?" asked Tilly. Larsson handed it to her. "Your principles mean more to you than any money or success. That's really good!"

"Bah," said Larsson, still displeased, "then you have it."

"You know what brings good luck, Larsson?" said Lorca. "Being on time when your captain calls a meeting." Lalana clicked her tongue and rolled back on her tail and Lorca chuckled, too. When Lorca sat down in the back corner away from the rest of them, Lalana hopped onto the seat next to him as if it were the most natural place in the world for her to be. They traded their fortunes so Lalana's no longer called upon her to sing and started talking about the subject of singing and how it was completely beyond a lului to do.

Tilly watched Lorca and Lalana with wide blue eyes. Lorca was an imposing, terrifying, and inspiring captain who challenged everyone and often demanded the impossible. He was also the sort of captain who had risked everything to save Sarek and the colonists on Corvan and fought Starfleet Command at every available opportunity for the chance to save even more lives, so she knew he was an incredibly brave and heroic person, but through it all, he had always seemed an aloof figure, entirely removed from the crew. Despite having a reputation for being darkly funny (especially according to the bridge crew, who had the most experience with him), Lorca made being captain look like something that was brutally hard and lonely.

Now, looking at Lorca, Tilly realized he was something else in addition to being Discovery's awe-inspiring captain. He was also someone's friend. She smiled and looked down at the fortune in her hands. Someday, she was going to be a captain, and it was nice to see the role did not require the removal of all personal connections, even for a captain like Gabriel Lorca.

To say security at Memory Alpha was lax was an understatement. The facility was a cultural and scientific archive of no strategic value on the far side of the Federation from the Klingon Empire. They landed the shuttle after a cursory ident check, walked out with the crate past a pair of armed guards, and the attendant on duty noted there were no deliveries scheduled but was not bothered by this in the slightest.

The first curveball came when, while the attendant tried to figure out where exactly they should go with their unscheduled delivery, a woman entered the room and announced, "I'll take it from here, Govender."

The attendant looked up. "Sure, Dr. Stewart."

The woman looked at them. She was tall and thin, with long brown hair swept up into a tidy twist, a medium complexion, and persistently weary brown eyes. "Come with me," she said.

Larsson, being visibly the oldest and wearing the lieutenant commander pips for precisely this reason, strode after her entirely unbothered, forcing the rest of them to follow his lead. Underneath the environmental helmet, Lorca grimaced. Something was up.

She took them down a broad hallway past various academics. Some of them looked at Lorca's environmental suit and wondered what species he was underneath, but none of them really had any interest in these Starfleet visitors or the crate they were escorting. The woman led them to an offshoot of the main hallway otherwise devoid of people.

Either sensing or sharing Lorca's misgivings, Tyler asked, "Where are we going?"

"A storage room adjacent to the main access shaft," said the woman. "You'll be able to go wherever you need from there."

Lorca put a hand on Tyler's shoulder. "Stop," he said, the environmental suit rendering this into a buzzing voice.

They all stopped. The woman turned and looked at Lorca with an expression of boredom that felt unsettlingly familiar. "We're almost there. Let's keep going. I have other things I need to be doing." She resumed walking. Tyler gave Lorca a confused look and Lorca dropped his hand away, indicating they should continue following the woman for now. Lorca put a hand on the phaser at his hip just in case.

The promised storage room turned out to be a maintenance room with independent turbolift access. The woman secured the door behind them with an access code. "You can take that off now, captain. No monitors in here."

Tyler and Tilly looked to Lorca for some sign as to what they were going to do. Taking the helmet off meant removing his hand from his phaser, but if nothing else, they had the numbers, so Lorca did so. "Who the hell—"

"Dr. Danica Stewart." She crossed her arms and Lorca noticed her right hand was deformed, short one finger. Judging by the anatomy, the absence was the result of a birth defect, not an accidental amputation. She was quite attractive despite the abnormality. There was birdlike grace to her features. "Where's the... Lalana, is it?" The way she pronounced the name indicated she had heard it spoken aloud properly rather than read it on some report.

Something clicked in Lorca's head. He wrenched the crate open. "Lalana!" The false foam top of the crate tipped aside as Lalana sat up. "What the hell are you playing at!"

Lalana looked at Stewart, then at Lorca. "Who is this?" Her response only raised Lorca's hackles further and he put his hand back on his phaser. He continued to resist the urge to actually draw his weapon until such time as it became necessary. His propensity for pulling a phaser had gotten him into enough trouble recently.

Stewart scoffed. "Typical Rove. He didn't tell you, did he?"

"Rove?" repeated Tilly. "As in, brig chess Rove?"

Something else clicked in Lorca's head at the mention of the brig because there was one person he had famously put in the brig who was tall and thin and had weary-looking brown eyes. Dr. Stewart looked like a female version of John Groves. Lorca was momentarily repulsed by the fact he had thought her attractive. Now that he had made the connection, it was impossible not to look at her and see Groves' smirking face staring back. Lorca ground his teeth. "He didn't say anything, so how about you start."

John Groves, it turned out, was useful in unexpected ways. Having gleaned the fact they were going to Memory Alpha, he had contacted Stewart and arranged for her to assist with their mission. In his usual mischievous fashion he had neglected to inform anyone from Discovery he had done this.

It was annoying, but there was something poetic about Groves accidentally helping Lorca steal the sealed legal records and Stewart was an entirely useful resource. She gave them her security access codes and rode with them in the turbolift down towards the archive level housing the lului box.

"If this 'Rove' contacted you about us coming," said Tyler, concerned, "does that mean there's a communication detailing our mission somewhere?"

"I wouldn't worry about that," said Stewart. "It was in qoryan, so there isn't a translator in existence can tell you what the message said, and only six people alive can even speak it."

Six people. Groves, Mischkelovitz, Stewart, and three others. "Including O'Malley?" asked Lorca, recalling O'Malley's halting attempts to do just that.

Stewart scoffed harder this time. "Macarius O'Malley? You think Macarius O'Malley can speak qoryan?" She started to laugh so hard she had trouble speaking. "He, he, he, he, he, he doesn't have the genes for it!" She doubled over, took a sharp breath, and held it, stopping her laughter abruptly.

The turbolift arrived at its destination. Stewart held the door for them but made no move to exit the lift herself. "After you leave, I'll replace all security footage for the duration of your stay with footage from another day. Can one of you deliver a message to Rove for me?"

"Certainly," said Lalana.

"Tell him, aik'rok mak'ti'teronn, je ma kroh se basiil."

Lorca would have needed to hear that again several times, but Lalana went, "Aik'loq mak-klee-tle-lonn, je mah kloh se basiil?"

"Exactly," said Stewart, even though Lorca could clearly hear several changes in the way Lalana had said it. "You can remember that?"

"I can. Aik'loq mak-klee-tle-lonn, ja mah kroh se pasiil." Again, it seemed to have shifted on Lalana's tongue. It was possible Lalana was saying it exactly the same way but the translator was shifting the syllables in the process of trying to turn it intelligible. That, or the words were just too hard for Lalana to say accurately.

"Say it just like that and he'll understand," Stewart assured. The turbolift doors closed.

As they made their way down the hall, Lorca asked, "Did you understand what she said?" Lalana had been in the lab with Mischkelovitz and Groves for months.

"Not at all," said Lalana. "I have tried to figure out that language, but it is entirely beyond me. Which is very odd because I am quite good at languages. I can usually understand them even if I cannot speak them. Yet theirs escapes my understanding."

And apparently, O'Malley did not have the genes for it. Lorca recalled the comment O'Malley had made about the ban on genetic engineering complicating his life.

Qoryan, he realized, was a genetic language. How exactly it worked and why that would preclude the universal translator from fully translating it, Lorca was not sure, but it was another piece of the puzzle solved, and a whole new set of questions raised that Lorca was very much looking forward to getting the answers to at long last.

The lului box was exactly where it was supposed to be. They replaced it without much fanfare. Groves' interference had turned what was supposed to be a moderate-risk heist into something entirely banal, rendering most of Lorca's planning and preparation entirely moot. Maybe that was why Groves had done it. This was the equivalent of deflating Lorca's basketball.

"Cadet, go check for any relevant files," said Lorca, which was Tilly's cue to head to the nearby console and begin delving for the data Lorca wanted.

Lorca crossed his arms and scowled, silently cursing Groves for ruining all the fun. Then he heard Lalana say, "Einar, why don't we go find some material for your next book?" That snapped Lorca out of his fuming disappointment.

"What?"

The answer which followed this inquiry was entirely unexpected. "There is a secret section below the Daystrom level of the archives which should have many interesting things for Einar to write about! I discovered it when I was conducting my initial survey of Federation worlds. Would you like to come with us?"

"We don't have time for a wild goose chase," said Lorca. This was not entirely true. It would probably take Tilly more than twenty minutes to dig up all the files he wanted, in which case this side trip could potentially play to Lorca's advantage and provide Tilly all the time she needed.

Or it could blow up in their faces. Not that there seemed to be any real danger. Even without Stewart, they had been on the verge of simply walking into Memory Alpha to steal the lului box uncontested. The place was no fortress.

Lorca recalled the fortunes in the shuttle. The slips of paper were not necessarily reflective of reality, but it felt a little like the hand of fate was reaching out to him with an offering. His tone shifted to curiosity and he asked, "What’s in this secret section?"

It appeared to be a dead-end hallway slated for expansion down the line, like so many other hallways in the sprawling underground labyrinth of Memory Alpha's archives, but Lalana swore it was hiding a special sealed chamber storing Federation secrets and that "The Secret History of the Federation" would make a very fine book. Lorca was not entirely certain what to make of her assertion. Federation secrets hiding right under everyone's noses? It was either impossibly brilliant, using the entire Memory Alpha facility like a false foam layer in a crate, or entirely far-fetched.

What was clear was that the corridor held no secret doors or buttons. A quick scan confirmed the hall ended in solid bedrock.

"The air system," said Lalana. "That was how I got in last time." They removed a pair of panels near the ceiling and Lalana hopped onto Larsson's shoulders and into the duct.

Lalana's head appeared in the gap left by the missing panels. "Do you know, I think you can fit in here. I am not sure how the area is normally accessed, but perhaps if you come through with me we can find the way out."

"Tyler, you go," said Lorca.

Tyler, true to form, did not hesitate at the order. Lorca and Larsson hefted him up into the ventilation system. Tyler disappeared, crawling after Lalana, the only evidence of his progress fading sounds of scraping through the duct. Two minutes later, Lalana was back. "We have encountered an independent power system with security measures. Tyler wishes to know what you would like him to do. You should come and see for yourself."

"Can he disable it?"

"He thinks so."

"Then have him do it."

Lalana did not move to relay this order. Instead she stared at him, her head sticking down from the ceiling. He threw his hands up expectantly at her, waiting for her to go. She said, "I did not realize you were claustrophobic."

Lorca squinted at her with confused disgust. "I'm not." He simply thought crawling through the vents was entirely undignified.

"Macarius is frightened of small spaces, too. How strange that you have this in common! But then, it is a very normal human weakness, is it not? Now I understand why I never have seen you voluntarily move into a space of this size. Do not worry. There is no shame in being afraid of small places. It is only human. You do not have to prove yourself to me or anyone else in this regard. If anything, I am pleased to know that you have this weakness. Because of it, Tyler and I will take care of this situation for you."

As Lalana spoke, Lorca's eyes narrowed. He wondered what it would take to convince her the error of her ways and decided a demonstration would probably do the trick. He turned to Larsson. "Leg," he growled through gritted teeth. His ascent was somewhat less graceful than Tyler's, but they managed.

His regret at this course of action was immediate. The duct was cramped and uncomfortable, illuminated only by a light source Lalana held aloft in her tail for his benefit. As he crawled along behind her, Lorca grumbled, "Why did I let you talk me into this."

"Because you wanted to have an adventure," said Lalana.

His elbow banged the side of the duct. "Next time I want to have an adventure, remind me I'm not twenty-five anymore."

"You are still young, at least compared to me. Though, I am also glad that you are not twenty-five. The face you have now is so much more interesting. All of the little lines are so beautiful. Especially when you laugh or you smile."

Lorca stopped, staring at her in mild surprise. She twisted so her eyes were looking back at him, the light gleaming in the reflection of her compound irises. As uncomfortable as he was, he smiled genuinely and a little helplessly at the compliment.

"Yes, exactly so," she said, and continued forward.

Lorca sighed softly with contentment and resumed crawling. The face he saw in the mirror nowadays was so far removed from the face of his youth, with wrinkles that had not been there ten, twenty years ago. He was never quite certain how he felt about the wrinkles. On the one hand, they represented the loss of youth and peak physical prowess. On the other, they were a mark of accomplishment and achievement above and beyond what he ever could have dreamed. It was oddly gratifying to know someone found those wrinkles beautiful. Even if that someone was an alien whose concept of beauty was entirely inhuman.

The ventilation duct terminated in a small chamber three meters wide and just tall enough to sit in. Most of the chamber was occupied by an air circulator strong enough to move the hair on Lorca's head. Tyler was on the far side of the circulator, crouching next to a continuation of the ventilation shaft. "Captain!" he said, surprised to see Lorca.

"What've we got," prompted Lorca.

What they had was an active defense system of anti-vermin lasers covering the opening to the next area. It was drawing power from whatever mysterious source was also powering the circulator. The circulator also had a secondary power backup. Whoever had designed this place seemed to have a real fear of suffocation.

"Can you disable it?"

"I think so," said Tyler. "But there's a risk it'll release a charge, so maybe you should stay back."

Sitting hunched in the corner opposite was only marginally more comfortable than crawling through the vents. Lorca leaned back against the bedrock. The icy chill of the stone was barely perceptible through the material of his environmental suit but shockingly sharp against the back of his head. "You cold?" he asked Lalana.

"This suit is heated. It creates a thermal air buffer, and if an area is too cold, I can withdraw my filaments within it." She moved beside him. He could feel the warmth she described about as much as he could the cold. "Of course, there are more enjoyable ways to keep warm."

Lorca smirked. "Yes, there are."

Then she said quietly, "You should spend the night with me when we get back."

"If we get back," he replied, trying to dismiss the subject with a bit of gallows humor. "There's still a chance Tyler mucks up and kills us." Anti-vermin lasers were unlikely to kill them unless Tyler somehow triggered a catastrophic overload of the entire power system.

Lalana leaned in close and said in a voice the translator rendered as a whisper only he could hear, "When we get back, come to my quarters. I will curl your toes and make you scream with pleasure. I know every spot that you enjoy and I will dance across them all like a spider on a web of its own design." Lorca tried to keep a straight face and failed miserably.

Lalana brushed her tail across his ear and down the side of his neck, doing something with her filaments that made Lorca gasp audibly. The sound caused Tyler to look in their direction. Lorca hastily covered the indiscretion up with a cough until Tyler turned back to disarming the lasers, then hissed at Lalana, "Your quarters are swelteringly hot."

"I do so enjoy the way you sweat. And so will you," she promised, spinning her hands.

There was a small fizzling sound followed by a pop. "I got it," announced Tyler. Lorca did not answer. Tyler looked over at them both again and noticed Lorca looked vaguely shell-shocked.

"Well, look at that," said Lalana gamely, "we are not dead."

They emerged from the latter part of the ventilation ducts into a darkened area filled with crates and shelves stacked many items deep. The chamber was long and narrow like a subway tunnel. Their lights swept across and revealed a set of console stations set up at various intervals along the middle of the chamber. There was a single transporter pad at the end closest to them. Apparently the transporter was the usual method of access, which made sense, because aside from the ventilation system they had come through, every other part of the chamber was solid rock.

"What the hell is this?" asked Lorca, looking at the markings on the crates. They were strings of letters and numbers but no other markings. Some sort of classification system.

"Should we open one?" asked Tyler.

"Check the console first," said Lorca. "And see if you can find some lights."

Lalana strode through the stacks of crates and bins and called out, "Close your eyes! I see light controls." Lorca preemptively did as suggested. When the lights came up, it stung a little even through his eyelids, but then the lights dimmed to the level Lalana knew Lorca preferred and he opened his eyes.

The chamber was perhaps twenty meters long and seven meters wide. Everything in it was hidden in a container. There were hundreds of containers of various sizes. Tyler activated the nearest console.

Lorca joined Tyler at the console. "What do we have?"

"I need a password to get into any files, but I can view the directory." The filenames seemed to feature the same combination of letters and numbers as the crates themselves.

"Then we'll do this the old-fashioned way," said Lorca.

"Should we not beam Einar in?" suggested Lalana.

Larsson arrived a moment later, looking quite pleased at having avoided the indignity of crawling through the ceiling. "Remote activation protocols in the transporter," noted Tyler. "It requires some sort of access key to be triggered from the outside." At least the manual overrides meant there would be no need for a repeat of the vent performance. The humans would be able to beam out at their leisure.

Lorca opened a crate. It contained an assortment of decorative objects that seemed to have come from an office. There was a splatter of time-blackened blood across an old, two-dimensional photo in a frame. The subject of the photo was wearing a Starfleet uniform about fifty years out of date. More blood stained an old leather desk pad. There was even a pot with soil and the remnants of a plant stalk sticking up from it. The leaves had long since turned to dust.

He tried a bin on a shelf next. It contained several biological sample kits with biohazard seals on them. Every one of the seals was broken. Lorca would have been alarmed, but the kits were a few decades old and no effort had been made to quarantine them, indicating they were unlikely to still contain whatever samples they once had.

"Tyler, can you tell what was added most recently?" Tyler read off some number and letter combinations. Lorca scanned the room and located a letter and number set that would seem to be more recent. Inside the crate he found a pair of fully modern plasma coils bearing marks of an explosion.

This place, Lorca realized, was steeped in secrets. He spotted another recent-ish ID number on a small box high on a shelf. He pulled it down and found it contained a set of handwritten books, journals. He scanned a few entries. The writer seemed to have served on a starship, but all relevant names had been abbreviated with initials, so it was hard to know exactly who the writer was or the crew he had served with. Most of the writing was fairly rote and described everyday events in a straightforward manner, but the last journal in the set was an entirely emotional confession in which the writer outlined his many regrets in life. Lorca thumbed through it with gloved hands.

"...all that time I wasted, and for what? I'd like to say it was out of a desire to display professionalism, but I've never thought any of my fellows unprofessional for their conduct, and I'm forced to conclude in the worst way possible that what I actually was was afraid and I've sacrificed a whole life to that fear and have nothing to show for it. People will look at my life and think I lived it well. 'Look at him, he did so much.' I actually did very little of note or consequence. My family will probably chuck this into a bin with the rest of my belongings and donate it after I'm gone. I had better make clear that they ought to burn these books for the good of us all." The missive to burn the books for the collective good had been bolded and underlined. Apparently it had not been followed.

A little further down, the author realized, "I told myself I was writing it for them but I'm really just doing this for myself. When I'm gone, there will be no one who really knew me who will remember me, and I want to pretend that's not the case, but it is. I hope someone someday reads this and knows me, because no one knew me while I was alive. That's all anyone really wants, I think. To be known."

It continued like this at length. Lorca turned a few more pages and was about to put the book down when the words "she loved the stars" caught his eye.

"I've just come back from the pub. I met a woman this evening. No—to call her that belies the truth of her existence. She was a miracle. A woman who understood me without needing to be told, and in her a sorrow that mirrored my own.

"Where she came from, I couldn't say. I didn't ask; it seemed imprudent. She was only passing through, here for one night to visit family in the area. We shared a drink together and sat, talking. She loved the stars. She knew I served in Starfleet but didn't pry into it the way most people do when they meet me. She didn't have a million questions of what it was like to live on a starship or force me to retell any of those awful little anecdotes I've told so many times I almost believe them myself.

"I keep thinking over our conversation. There are so many things I would have asked her, if I were a braver or a better man. What was her life like, the daily banalities and frustrations and ever-fleeting joys? What were her ideals? Instead, we talked of loneliness, and love, and longing, and belonging. We spoke of these things, and it felt for a moment like immortality. I'm glad I met her, even if it was but for a single night. I doubt I'll ever cross paths with her again. We met, we spoke, we drank, and we parted back to our respective lives.

"It was such a modest, reasonable, intelligent talk."

That was how the passage ended, on an entirely strange little out-of-place sentence that described the referenced discussion without really saying anything about it. Lorca turned to the last page. The final words were, "It was a lonely life, but it was mine."

Lorca put the journal down. Despite the fact it was being stored in this strange location with all these things that felt a lot like evidence of crimes, the only crime these journals would seem to indicate was that the writer had lived an unsatisfying life.

"A halo of stars!" Lorca heard Lalana say. She was standing beside a large crate with a letter-number combination that looked bright and new. The code on the crate read "X102-TR-1116-M-LR-5."

The crate contained some sort of scientific equipment. It was all in pieces. Larsson picked up one of the larger components.

"Put it down," said Lorca. "It's time to go."

"But we have only just arrived," said Lalana.

"This is some sort of repository of criminal evidence," said Lorca. "We don't know what any of these crimes are, but we probably shouldn't be touching the evidence."

"Shit," said Larsson, and rubbed the object with his sleeve to remove any fingerprints.

"You're just getting more DNA on it," Lorca informed him. "Skin cells, hair filaments, clothing fibers... Close the damn crate."

They waited in the hallway for Lalana to return through the ventilation system. Larsson started walking off. "Where are you going," Lorca demanded.

"Bathroom," said Larsson. "Unless I now need a captain's permission to pee."

"When it comes down to it, yes."

Larsson stared. "May I use the toilet facilities, sir?"

"Go," said Lorca, wishing he had had not let Lalana bring Larsson along. What had Larsson contributed exactly? His services as a human ladder on a side trip that had not provided them with anything of real interest.

Lalana emerged from the ceiling and Tyler replaced the panels they had removed. At some point, someone was going to realize the vermin defense system to that room had been compromised, but the way things at Memory Alpha were run, it would probably be a long time coming.

Tilly was right where they had left her. She greeted Lorca with a proud smile on her face suggesting she had gotten all the files requested. Larsson turned up again and they made their way back to the shuttle with the lului box safely tucked away alongside Lalana in the crate. They did not see Stewart on the way out, but Lorca assumed the woman was as good as her word where the security footage was concerned.

All the way back, Lalana sat with Tilly and let the cadet pepper her with roughly a thousand questions about lului. Lorca sat in the same far corner as before, roughly as far from Tilly as possible, and kept his own counsel. The trip had not been as much fun as he hoped but there had been a few standout moments. Part of his mind was still in the ventilation systems, thinking about spiders and the sensation of epithelial filaments on his ear.

Which was why he did not notice the silent exchange that passed between Larsson and Lalana. Larsson went to stand behind the copilot seat and look out the front window, crossing his arms and surreptitiously tapping his finger four times against his elbow. Lalana did not signal back, but she knew exactly what the message was and spun her hands because she was entirely pleased about it.

They had brought back a good deal more than the lului box from Memory Alpha.

They made it back to Discovery with twenty minutes to spare on their three-hour timetable. Lorca was relieved to be back on the ship. The ship felt safer than anywhere else in the universe.

As they unloaded, Mischkelovitz came running into the shuttle bay. "Captain! Captain!" she shouted. "It's music! The answer is music!" She ran right up to Lorca, grabbed his left hand, and shook it with excitement. "The music in my ears! Remember, you said the music in my ears was repetitive! It is, it's repetitive! We don't need to make our own music! We can change what's already there! We just need to change the pattern of the existing music!"

Lorca stared at her, not sure what she expected him to say to this seemingly random burst of information. Mischkelovitz pulled his hand up to the side of her head and pressed it twice against her ear.

"Do you see? The music!"

Lalana hopped over. "Emellia, what are you talking about?"

Mischkelovitz realized they did not understand. "Music! The interstellar music! It's already there, we just have to change it!" She released Lorca's hand and started shaking her arms in agitation. Why didn't they understand what she was saying? Her eyes began to water with frustration. Lorca, Lalana, Tyler, and Tilly all stared in confusion.

Larsson pushed past Lorca. "Hey, Mischka, let's go see your boyfriend, ah?" he suggested, putting an arm around Mischkelovitz's shoulders and steering her towards the shuttle bay doors.

"Music!" she wailed as he led her away. "Music!"

"What was that about?" asked Tyler. Lorca only shook his head. It was never entirely clear what Mischkelovitz was doing or thinking, but that was part of what made her so interesting to have around. She might one day walk into the ready room and request a sexual encounter, and the next burst into the shuttle bay shouting and crying about music as if she were imparting some sort of grand revelation.

Lorca stared at the shuttle bay doors and turned his head slightly towards Lalana. "Which one do you suppose he thinks is the boyfriend?"

"Do you know, I have no idea!" said Lalana, and clicked her tongue. "Wouldn't it be funny if it was Macarius?"

Lorca snorted. "Bet you anything it's Groves." He chuckled.

Tyler stared at them both. Whatever the in-joke was, he was somehow relieved to not be a part of it.

"I feel so sorry for her," said Tilly.

"Do you know, that is why she hates you," said Lalana.

Lorca smiled faintly. That wasn't it at all. He had figured out the truth of the matter a few months back. It was simple, really. Mischkelovitz was the sort of woman who did not like other women. Lalana escaped this hatred because, as much as she called herself female, in reality she was anything but and her nonhumanoid status made her no threat to Mischkelovitz's subconscious fears.

It was Mischkelovitz's loss, really. Half the humans in the universe were women and they were some of the most amazing people. Michael Burnham was one such person, and so, surprisingly enough, was Sylvia Tilly.

Lorca left Saru in charge of returning them back to their point of origin and accompanied Lalana through emptied corridors back to Lab 26. Apparently Larsson thought O'Malley was the boyfriend because Groves was in the lab and there was no sign of Mischkelovitz. Worryingly, there was also no guard outside the door. Just because Lalana had been gone did not give O'Malley and Allan leave to abandon guarding the lab entirely. The lab still contained valuable research. For the moment, Lorca let it slide.

Lalana cheerfully informed Groves she had a message for him. "Aik'loq mak'tli'telonn, ja mah kroh se basiil."

Groves stared. "Seriously?"

"What is the message? Did I say it correctly?"

"Spelta krrann de matoht!" exclaimed Groves, rolling the R harshly. "Je patrossi..."

That, Lorca decided, was enough of that. "Specialist Groves, make yourself scarce. That's an order."

"Where am I being ordered to go?" The way he said the word "ordered" made it sound like an insult.

Lorca shrugged. "Anywhere that's not here."

"For how long?"

"How about forever," said Lorca, in trademark is-this-a-joke-or-not, decide-at-your-own-peril tone of voice.

Groves stared. "I don't... what?"

"Rove, get out," said Lorca impatiently. "Or you can go play brig chess from the actual brig."

"I'm allowed to be—" Groves looked at Lorca's face and decided being allowed to be somewhere wasn't the same as being welcome. He exited.

The burst of heat from Lalana's quarters was mitigated slightly when Lalana adjusted the environment controls to lower the temperature to something more mildly warm. "Of course," she said, "you realize this now means you have no excuse to leave."

"Oh, is that why you keep it so hot in here?" drawled Lorca. Lalana clicked her tongue.

There were still two cookies left from their excursion. His was, "An admirer is concealing his affection for you."

Hers: "Tomorrow will be lucky and memorable for you."

"Trade," said Lorca, since clearly it made no sense for him to have a male admirer. They did.

"This is not accurate," said Lalana of her new fortune. "Your affection is not concealed. You have no secrets from me. Your every truth is written on your face, and if not that, then it will be entirely audible soon enough. Do you know, there are no alarm monitors for respiratory, heartrate, or vocal distress in here."

Lorca raised an eyebrow. "You make it sound like you're planning to kill me."

"Well, they do call it the little death! But I assure you, there will be no doubt as to the fact you are very much alive."

On the heels of the Mudd report they received good news at last. The best news imaginable, really. Lorca found it worthy of a ship-wide announcement. "Attention, Discovery. As of 0800 hours this morning, we have been given the go-ahead to fight this war as we see fit. The gloves are off. All hands, prepare for battle stations. Black alert!"

Discovery's outer saucer began to rotate, dispersing spores throughout the ship in preparation for the jump. Around him, the bridge crew looked confident and alert. Weeks of drills had been leading up to this moment. All that time spent tracking battles and Klingon sightings, constantly adjusting the target choice as the circumstances of the war changed, and now the go ahead to launch their first real strike since Cornwell.

Lorca had Richter open the comm to the engineering lab. "Mr. Stamets. You ready for this? One jump in, one jump out. Easy a pie."

"One order of key lime, coming right up."

Lorca smiled. Mushroom-modified Stamets was just the latest in a long line of entirely lovely monsters here on Discovery.

The coordinates were set. All weapons were primed. Dress rehearsal was over and it was time for the real show to start. Lorca took up his position near the viewscreen in preparation for the coming strike.

"Go."

The Klingons at Xarantine never knew what hit them. Discovery had been unleashed.

Part 69