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phantom-le6 · 1 year ago

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Episode Reviews - Star Trek: Voyager Season 6 (6 of 7)

Episode 21: Live Fast and Prosper

Plot (as given by me):

A group of aliens are impersonating Captain Janeway and her crew, while on Voyager, multiple system failures are traced to a faulty component in Neelix’s galley. When Orek, an alien cheated by the fake Janeway, hunts down the real Voyager, a commonality between his story and Neelix’s about acquiring his faulty heating coil reveals the truth. The supposed clerics who traded with Neelix and Tom Paris for food supplies are actually con artists, who used the front of being charitable clerics to get aboard the Delta Flyer and scan its database. With this information, they’ve been pulling off further cons by pretending to be Janeway, Tuvok and Chakotay.

Voyager tracks down the imposters’ ship, which is in the midst of fighting off another of their irate victims. A fight ensues, with the other victims believing Voyager is in the deception with the imposters. While most of the imposters escape, the fake Janeway is teleported to Voyager’s brig. Later she escapes, taking the Delta Flyer to meet up with her colleagues. However, Tom and the Doctor have stowed away ahead of time, enabling them to secretly subdue Dala and have the Doctor impersonate her. With some further assistance from Voyager, the imposters all routed and their various victims are un-cheated. Throughout these events, Neelix and Tom worry they’ve lost their edge when it comes to the business of spotting and avoiding cons. This leads to attempts to con the Doctor with an old-fashioned shell game, and ultimately succeed.

Review:

As ever with Trek, I always look to see what an episode is about, and as I noted in the last round of episode reviews, the Trek Wiki site Memory Alpha is proving increasingly lacking in regards to this subject. So, once again, we have to just go by the events themselves. The surface plot is readily apparent; we have a fake Voyager crew going around scamming aliens, and Voyager has to hunt them down and stop this. However, to really be about something, especially in Trek, a story has to go beyond the surface situation. That’s just framing, in which a top-quality Trek episode will either develop a character or explore an issue. Does this episode, in fact, do either?

The answer, sadly, is no, it doesn’t. None of the main characters are really given any kind of major exploration, and I certainly don’t count ex-con Tom and barter-savvy Neelix fretting about the loss of their street-smarts as developing the characters. We know they used to be as shady as the con artists, we know they’ve straightened out, and frankly showing how much this has happened is hardly a new development. For issue exploration, the episode picks up the idea of identity theft and, rather than exploring it, they turn it into a load of mindless chase, capture, escape and more capture action, all in the name of a action mandate for this one show that is almost constantly preventing proper Trek story telling at its finest.

For me, as well-acted as Voyager usually is, episodes like this are constantly depending on that to carry a hollow story, and it’s simply not good enough. Frankly, I think that’s part of why I’ve really slowed up on my reviews of this series; some of its earlier efforts combined with past shows like TNG and DS9 have included a wealth of great Trek, creating an incredibly high bar that Voyager has increasingly struggled to clear. As such, this episode for me is very much a low scorer and only worth 4 out of 10.

Episode 22: Muse

Plot (as given by me):

B’Elanna Torres has crash-landed on a planet inhabited by a pre-industrial race of aliens whose culture seems akin to ancient Greece. Injured and feverish, she has been aided by a local playwright who creates a play from the Delta Flyer’s log entries and B’Elanna’s fevered mutterings. The playwright, Kelis, believes B’Elanna is an Eternal, which is presumably the alien culture’s equivalent to the pantheon of gods from ancient Greco-Roman culture. In order to try and uphold the Prime Directive as much as possible while also gaining parts to repair the ship, B’Elanna trades information on her fellow “Eternals” for Kelis’ aid.

While Voyager conducts a search for the Delta Flyer, Kelis creates another play based on what B’Elanna tells him. This is complicated by a number of factors. First, the playwright struggles to understand the people B’Elanna describes, as many of them are unlike anything in his experience, and his cast of actors share the same frustration. In addition, Kelis tries to incorporate certain writing “tricks” that have become the norm in his society, as his audience has come to expect them over the old ways of simply telling a story truthfully. Second, a war has been declared between Kelis’ patron and a neighbouring rival, and Kelis now wants the play to act as a means of creating peace. Third, when B’Elanna visits the theatre to assist more with the writing, an actress by the name of Layna follows her back to the Delta Flyer. Jealous of a perceived romance between B’Elanna and Kelis, Layna threatens to expose B’Elanna to their patron as an Eternal if she returns to the theatre.

At this point, Harry Kim arrives; he left the Flyer by escape pod and crash-landed 200 kilometres away, forcing him to walk at nights to reach the Delta Flyer. He soon helps B’Elanna restore communications and Voyager is on his way. Meanwhile, Kelis still has no ending for his play, and sends word of this to B’Elanna. Despite the risk of Layna’s threat, as well as potential violation of the Prime Directive, B’Elanna goes to the theatre. Despite Layna trying to make good on her threat, the rest of the cast improves around this to prevent her and enable B’Elanna to disappear as she is teleported away. The final words are then spoken by Kelis, and it is implied they may have succeeded in averting war on the planet.

Review:

This episode is one that got an award nomination for the design work on the costumes of the guest aliens, and that’s the main think Memory Alpha comments on. Having watched it again, I would say that’s because, once again, there’s nothing else to comment on. For me, this episode feels like a kind of vanity exercise for those involved in the making of the series. The guest character of Kelis is essentially embodying the show-writers on Voyager, the patron and his subjects who watch the play are the TV viewing public, the cast of the play is the show’s cast, and B’Elanna is kind of like Roddenberry, Berman or someone else always trying to reign Trek into what it “should be”, even when maybe that idea is wrong. Maybe it’s meant to celebrate the impact Trek can have generally, or using metaphor show what telling stories in film and TV can be like by going back to theatre as the predecessor of those mediums.

Now if Voyager was putting out great episodes consistently at this point, I could agree with this episode trying to celebrate the franchise, but it isn’t, and considering that Voyager was the only Trek airing during this season, that’s worrying. If it’s meant to showcase what TV and film production is like, that’s a bit more of an industry-specific issue rather than the wider societal issues Trek is supposed to handle when not developing a character. Certainly, B’Elanna is not developed here, and we have a whole episode of her having to solo contact with a non-warp civilisation without causing any major Prime Directive issues. Given that B’Elanna doesn’t always agree with others on Star Fleet protocols, this ends up feeling like a missed opportunity. For me, this episode is another poor showing, and I was actually going for the fast-forward button towards the end. 3 out of 10, next episode please.

Episode 23: Fury

Plot (as given by me):

Voyager receives a distress signal from a ship and discover a single Ocampan life-sign aboard. It turns out to be an elderly Kes, who had left the ship almost three years previously. She asks to come aboard, only to ram her vessel into Voyager and beam aboard, making directly for engineering while her psychokinetic abilities cause massive damage in her wake. Arriving in engineering, Kes makes for the warp core, killing B’Elanna with her powers before using the core’s energy to travel back in time.

The elderly Kes arrives in a time not long after her younger self had joined Voyager and masks her appearance to seem like her younger self. She then locates and knocks out her younger self, then begins working to betray Voyager to the Vidians, with the exception of herself and her past self. However, Tuvok’s own psychic abilities cause him to see ahead in time to aspects of Voyager’s future, such as the Delta Flyer, Seven of Nine, the Borg children and Ensign Wildman’s eventual daughter Naomi. Eventually, the detection of tachyons near Tuvok confirms a suspicion of Captain Janeway’s that time travel has occurred.

When the Vidians attack, Janeway leaves Chakotay to command the battle from the bridge while she seeks out Kes. Finding two of her, Janeway soon deduces that the conscious Kes is the time traveller. It turns out that Kes has become overwhelmed since leaving Voyager, feeling like she has taken on more than she was ready for and fearing she can never return to Ocampa, that she would not be accepted by her race as she is. As such, she is trying to send her younger self back to Ocampa so she need never face her current isolation.

Torn between duty to her ship and crew and affection for Kes, Janeway is ultimately forced to choose duty and kills the future incarnation of Kes. Afterwards, she and Tuvok prepare a secret contingency plan with Kes to avoid another time-travel incident in the future. Back in the present, that contingency plan is put into effect; engineering is evacuated and thus B’Elanna’s death is prevented, while a hologram recording of Kes’ younger self together with Janeway’s words talks the elderly Kes down. After a final farewell to the captain, Neelix and Tuvok, Kes is beamed aboard a vessel to return to Ocampa.

Review:

In some ways, this episode title is very apt, because fury is certainly the emotion this run of episodes comes close to evoking. This time, however, the episodes are going wrong not so much by being hollow, but by being unoriginal and repeating concepts from past Trek. Back in TNG, Tasha Yar’s actress Denise Crosby wanted to leave, so she was killed off late in that show’s first season, and both fans and creators alike felt her departure was poorly handled. As such, in the third season of TNG, we get an episode where the timeline is temporarily altered to bring Tasha Yar back, the idea apparently being to try and give Yar a better send-off. Instead, many felt the episode was unnecessary and perhaps made things worse.

Flash-forward to the end of Voyager’s third season and the beginning of its fourth. Kes’ actress Jennifer Lien also wants to leave, so she’s written out within the first two episodes of season four. However, her exit plot is badly handled, not being given adequate screentime relative to the introduction of Seven of Nine. Now, near the end of season 6, producer Rick Berman wants to bring Kes back for an episode for reasons Memory Alpha doesn’t explain, and fellow producer Brannon Braga spearheads the writing effort to create this episode. Much like “Yesterday’s Enterprise”, it ultimately just serves to give us a comeback we didn’t need for a less positive farewell. After all, at least Kes left in early season 4, she was damaging the ship accidentally, not playing kamikaze like in this episode.

The idea of someone with psychic powers going to the dark side like Kes does is also somewhat unoriginal; the X-Men comics did the Dark Phoenix saga along these same lines in 1980, and the 90’s animated series of X-Men had adapted it as well. Seeing Kes going down that same path, I can’t help but think that the similarities aren’t quite accidental, and even if they are, it’s still a poor showing. The episode also has multiple continuity errors, including the fact that back in season 2, Kes met a space station full of Ocampans whose increased mental abilities extended their lifespans. In this episode, Kes almost appears to have aged at an Ocampan-typical rate, so on top of recycling one aspect from TNG and ripping off another from the X-Men, this episode is ignoring a key and relevant aspect of its own continuity.

As nice as it is seeing Kes back again, and the usual good work of the show’s cast playing their roles, this episode is just really epitomising the sub-par effort Voyager was showing more often than not around this time. I give it maybe 4 out of 10.

Episode 24: Life Line

Plot (as given by me):

Star Fleet have worked out a means of sending and receiving information to and from Voyager on a monthly basis, enabling a form of regular contact with Earth for the first time in almost six years. Among the correspondence sent is a letter to the Doctor from Lt. Reg Barclay. It turns out that the creator of the Doctor’s program, Dr Lewis Zimmerman, is terminally ill and all the Star Fleet medical personnel involved are unable to provide a treatment. Barclay’s hope is that the Doctor’s experiences in the Delta Quadrant might provide an insight unavailable to physicians in the Alpha Quadrant.

With Zimmerman unlikely to live much more than a month and an idea of the Doctor’s too difficult to convey for Star Fleet medical to study and implement, the Doctor asks to be sent to the Alpha Quadrant to treat the man he considers as his father. Captain Janeway agrees, but once the Doctor is in the Alpha Quadrant, things do not go smoothly. Zimmerman is very belligerent and dismissive towards the Doctor, and refuses to let his creation treat him. This is compounded by the discovery that all other Mark I EMH programs in Star Fleet have been reprogrammed for menial labour, which has deeply humiliated Zimmerman since that model of EMH is based on his looks and personality, the latter being a major complaint by Star Fleet.

In desperation, Barclay asks Counsellor Deanna Troi to visit Jupiter Station to facilitate the Doctor treating Zimmerman. However, even Deanna’s skills as a counsellor prove unequal to the task. Later, the Doctor’s program begins to destabilise, and the others brow-beat Zimmerman into repairing him. When Zimmerman is done, he tries to further alter the Doctor, but his illness catches up with him, and he finally relents with regard to being treated.

The Doctor then confronts Barclay, having learned his malfunction was the result of foul play, and it turns out Deanna and Barclay contrived the malfunction to facilitate Zimmerman being treated. The Doctor announces that everything has worked well, and with the Borg-based medical procedure he’s implemented, Zimmerman will recover in full. Later, Barclay takes a photo of the Doctor and Zimmerman together for the former to take back with him to Voyager.

Review:

While this episode is another one to emulate something from TNG, it’s much more original about it than the last one was. In this case, the episode from TNG that gets echoed is “Brothers”; in that episode, Data was summoned to his dying “father” much as the Doctor is in this episode. Also, in both cases the main character is an artificial life-form whose actor also plays the guest role of the creator. Luckily, Robert Picardo is only playing two roles whereas Brent Spiner had to play three due to the further inclusion of Lore in the TNG episode, and while both episodes involve a medical-related impact on the main character’s ship, it’s a different impact in each case. Beyond this, the episodes vary quite nicely, so it’s not a major strike against this one that it’s drawing on another show’s concept.

What’s most important, however, is that we get a point to an episode at long last. There’s no action getting in the way of the plot on this occasion, and we get to see the Doctor’s character take on a new facet as we see him as a son, trying to impress a disapproving father. I also feel like the fate of the other Mark I EMH’s adds to the Doctor’s representation of the neurodiverse, as it feels as if this same scenario could play out in real life for an autistic person like me. Imagine someone with autism being born in a country that doesn’t understand autism, but then being taken away to grow up in another nation that does understand it. This autistic person then returns to their birth country and finds their fellow autistics are languishing under the ill-treatment of their society instead of being shown the kindness and compassion they should get. Of course, this element of the plot isn’t much served here, but thankfully it isn’t forgotten, and we get a good enough character development plot not to need it here anyway.

The other upside of the episode is getting Barclay and Troi in again. As much as Voyager shouldn’t have to depend on these TNG alumni to compensate for the less effective episodes, they do give great performances and nicely tie this otherwise isolated series back into wider Trek. I’m almost tempted to go full marks on this after so many disappointing episodes prior to this, but this one is still failing in a couple of areas, and a jump in quality now and then doesn’t mean a free pass to an exemplary score. Instead, I would say 8 out of 10 is an acceptable score. If the surrounding episodes had been better and the plot not based on prior plots from another Trek show, this episode could have got top marks.

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wandaromanova · 3 years ago

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Truly Seen

Pairing: Natasha Romanoff x Fem!Reader

Warnings: mentions of self-doubt/self-deprecating thoughts

A/N: hello! apparently, i haven’t posted a nat fic since august and definitely needed to change that. happy reading <3

anon requested: Hiya! I hope you’re having a fantabulous day/night! I hope you’re taking care of yourself! A one shot idea: How about a nat x f!reader where either nat or the r is struggling with mental health and the other person is just comforting them as much as they can. Like for nat it could be thru sparring and the taking care of them after or for reader it could be like a cute low effort date (like a stay-in day or smt).

Summary: To be truly seen is to be loved.

Word Count: 3K | navigation

please do not repost or try and take ownership of my work. reblogs, likes, and comments are always welcome. <3

You and Natasha had a natural understanding of one another that came easily.

From the very beginning, there was a healthy correspondence that the two of you maintained. If one person paid for dinner, the other would pay the next time. If you didn’t like something on your plate, Natasha would place it on hers.

If Nat was injured from a physically demanding mission, you would have her sit on the bathroom counter, tending to her wounds delicately, dabbing alcohol onto her cuts with a featherlight touch.

If you were exhausted after a long day of back-to-back meetings, Nat would force you to lay face down on the mattress of your bed, sitting on the back of your thighs as she rubbed out the tense knots between your shoulder blades.

Balance. When one half of a relationship gives, the other returns the favor.

The effort ratio shouldn’t be 9:1, but 1:1.

Equality is a factor that is often overlooked. It has become common to question the nature of other people’s relationships.

‘Who wears the pants?’ ‘Who’s the breadwinner?’

However, the most important thing in a relationship, above all, is understanding one another. This is something that can be acquired by being attentive and can only happen over time. There are many highs, as there are lows. The way one reacts to hard times is a testament to their love for their significant other.

Natasha isn’t one to open about her feelings, which doesn’t come as a surprise to anyone. After all, part of her job description is to skillfully suppress emotion in high-pressure situations. She was the person who analyzed others and used small indicators and tells to conclude what they may be thinking or feeling.

Essentially, Natasha was the observer, not the observee. Not to mention, she valued her privacy greatly.

After having her rights and dignity stripped from her at a young age, Natasha makes it a point to control all aspects of her life, including what others know about her. She felt it was necessary to prove that she is no longer the passenger to the ride that is her life, but the driver.

Nat wasn’t closed off all the time though.

She would complain to you about how frustrating Fury would be as he assigned her unnecessary missions.

Or she’d rant about how she wanted to dropkick Stark to put an end to his incessant external monologue pertaining to his supposed superiority.

However, there was one instance when Natasha would refuse to reveal her thoughts to you, and that was after missions gone wrong.

You would find out the details from other members of the team, but never directly from Natasha herself.

You would hear about the mission from the perspective of whichever Avenger accompanied your girlfriend, but the picture from her point of view was never illustrated.

As it turned out, Natasha wasn’t as opaque and mysterious as she thought herself to be, at least that was the case in your eyes.

Natasha’s stonecold facade was exactly that; a facade. The change in her demeanor would go unseen by others, but it was clear as day to you.

After years of being with your girlfriend, you managed to scope out her tells. Natasha would claim she has none, but you’d argue that everyone has a tell, and you were right.

Natasha’s ticks were almost imperceptible, but they were there. When she was worried about something, she would slyly bite the inside of her cheek. When she was angry, her jaw would clench tightly as her face remains emotionless. When she was upset, she would zone out, eyes empty and focused on the corner of a table or her hands that rest in her lap.

During this time, she wouldn’t catch a single word anyone would say, but would still manage to play it off as she had been invested in the conversation.

The most obvious sign of all was Natasha’s standoffish demeanor. She would quietly walk into your shared bedroom, not a single word uttered. Her hair would be unruly, face shining with a sheen of sweat combined with residual dirt. Her posture would be slightly hunched, shoulders relaxed in defeat as her eyes land on you for a second before focusing elsewhere.

You’d watch from your place on the bed as she makes her way toward the closet, grabbing a set of workout attire to change into. Regardless of the time of day, you wouldn’t hesitate to follow suit, quickly getting up and changing into your own clothes before following her lead to the gym.

Most people do yoga or run on a treadmill to blow off steam, but Natasha wasn’t most people. She preferred to spar and you always accompanied her as a way of saying ‘you aren’t alone.’

At first, Natasha would lightly throw punches your way as you easily dodged her attacks. Of course, you noticed that the redhead was holding back.

So, when you both took a minute to catch your breaths, you approached her, staring deeply into her eyes as you raised a hand to rest on her cheek.

“Baby, you know that you don’t have to hold back, right? If you need to let out your anger, sadness, or whatever emotion you may be feeling, then do it. You know I can take a punch.”

You would speak softly as your thumb caressed her skin. Natasha would sigh, nodding wordlessly as you would pull away.

Once the two of you resume your session, the sounds of punching, shallow exhales of breath, and groans would resound throughout the gym. The redhead would swing repeatedly without reprieve, her frustration evident with every punch.

You would manage to dodge and block a decent amount of her attacks, but she managed to land a few blows to your abdomen. You knew there would definitely be bruises, but it wasn’t anything you weren’t used to.

After about an hour and a half, Natasha would call it quits as she desperately tried to catch her breath. The trip back to your room would be filled with silence, save for the deep breaths the both of you would take. As soon as you were in the room, you would make a beeline for the closet, gathering a set of clothes for Natasha and yourself.

The redhead would take a seat on the edge of the bed, her head in her hands as she shut her eyes. You’d quickly run a warm bath, ensuring that it is warm enough to relax tense muscles, but not too hot as to burn your skin.

Once satisfied with the temperature of the bath, you’d light a few scented candles that were in the bathroom, dimming the lights as you make your way back into the bedroom.

Natasha would look up as you make your way over to her. You’d lightly smile down at her, grabbing both of her hands in yours and guiding her into the bathroom.

The smell of cherry blossoms overtaking the space as you help the redhead undress before tending to yourself. The redhead would sink into the water, eyes never leaving your form as you’d fold both of your outfits.

Easing into the warm water, Natasha would instantly sink into your embrace as your arms engulf her from behind. With her head resting on your shoulder and eyes closed, you’d pour her favorite shampoo in the palm of your hand and gently knead the liquid into red locks.

Your hands would travel down to the nape of her neck, then her shoulders, massaging the areas with more force. Natasha’s content sighs were an indication that you were doing something right.

The only sound was the movement of the bathwater and the redhead’s sighs of relief. There was no need for conversation, both of you happily succumbing to the serene atmosphere that had been created.

Although it was human nature to crave affection, Natasha would never admit to anyone just how much your touch could affect her. Natasha believed that she had no weaknesses, but the instant she would feel your skin against hers, she was at your mercy.

You had the ability to make her feel better, no matter the severity of the situation, You were all she needed to placate the raging waters of self-doubt that tried to consume her.

After the bath, the pair of you would settle into bed, the redhead clinging to your side with her head on your shoulder. You would look up at the ceiling with your free arm supporting your head. Natasha’s warm breath would meet the sensitive skin of your neck as she nuzzles her face further into you.

It seemed like your girlfriend finally allowed sleep to take over. So, you were startled when her sultry voice made itself known for the first time since her arrival.

“Thank you.” She mumbled, the vibration of her pleasantry leaving goosebumps in its wake.

“You never need to thank me for anything. Now get some rest.” You tilted your head down slightly, kissing the top of her head, lips lingering for a few seconds before you pulled away.

Natasha would snuggle closer to your body, the arm you had around her body pulling her in. You would lay awake, only allowing yourself the luxury of sleep when Natasha’s breathing steadied and her expression was one of peace.

•❅──────────────── ‎⧗ ────────────────❅•

Natasha supported you just as much as you did her.

You would have arbitrary moments of insecurity in regards to your position in the Avengers.

Oftentimes, you would believe that the team would be better off without you. You would question your contribution to the team, mind reeling with doubt.

There isn’t any particular reason why those thoughts and feelings come to light, and that was the most frustrating part for you.

No one on the team had given you any reason to doubt your capabilities, but no matter how hard you tried to fight off the invasive thoughts, they still remained.

There was a dark cloud of negativity that loomed over your mind, the lightning of insecurity a bright reflection on raindrops of fear; fear of being a disappointment.

Natasha can easily tell when your state of mind shifts to a less optimistic standpoint.

Your goofy and carefree behavior would fade. Your laughter wouldn’t reverberate throughout a room like it normally would. Your smile wouldn’t reach your eyes and there was a short supply of affection. Of course, the redhead refused to idly standby as you experienced inner turmoil.

You were similar to Nat in the way you were somewhat prideful. You were terrified of seeming weak, and thus, retained your thoughts. However, your girlfriend knew all too well the shame that accompanies unwarranted self-deprecation. So, she’d spring into action and follow through with the setup of a relaxing evening inside.

Natasha would gather all of the blankets she could find throughout the Compound, flinging them onto the mattress carelessly. She’d steal some pillows from the living room for maximum comfort. Then, she planned out what movies to play on the television, opting to play your favorite comedies.

After queuing up the movies, the redhead makes multiple calls to various restaurants, placing orders for your favorite meals.

Whilst waiting for the food to arrive, she’d scrounge through the pantries, grabbing different snacks, not caring about who owned them.

If there was one thing Natasha knew about you, it was how much you loved food. So, in times like these, Natasha would pull all the stops and try to get every single thing she could recall you eating.

While the redhead, unknowingly to you, arranged your surprise, you would be sat in a chair, body slumped over a table as you stared down at another mission report.

You convinced yourself that you needed to work even harder, in order to be truly deserving of your spot on the team. In light of that train of thought, you’d taken on more missions than usual, finishing them quickly and writing constant reports.

You’d spend the entire day holed up in a random conference room, only leaving to use the restroom. You’d work yourself to the bone, the only thing pulling you back down to earth being Natasha.

It was easy to lose track of time while practically swimming in a pool of paperwork. So, you’d only call it a day when Nat waltzed in, stopping behind your chair and massaging your tense shoulders.

Your eyes flutter shut as your girlfriend leans down, pressing a kiss to the side of your neck. Tilting your head to the side to allow Nat better access, a sigh escapes your lips. The moment ends just as fast as it started, eyes fluttering open as her warmth removes itself from your body.

“Come on, you need to relax now. You’ve been working nonstop.” Natasha spoke calmly as she stood upright, pulling the chair you sat in away from the table.

You’d stand up, stretching out your arms and groaning loudly in satisfaction at the temporary relief the action brought to you.

The redhead would grab your hand, intertwining her slender fingers with your own, and pull you toward the elevator which led to your floor. As soon as the two of you had made it to the room, Nat swung the door open and you’d let out a gasp, tears springing to your eyes as her hand left yours.

There was a messy mountain of fleece in the center of the bed, surrounded by pillows. Snacks, food, and drinks were littered across the nightstands on either side of the mattress.

Your eyes drifted to the television and noticed that Netflix was already open, ‘Legally Blonde’ paused on the screen and ready for viewing.

Natasha stared at you with a smile on your face as she took in your reaction. The fact that Nat had taken the time to do something to lift your spirits had you melting. You didn’t think Nat had noticed your upset state, seeing as you tried your hardest to hide it.

Obviously, you were awful at hiding things, especially from your superspy girlfriend.

Pulling the redhead into a tight hug, you were engulfed in her strong arms, your face smushed against her shoulder. After getting settled on the bed, which was a difficult task with the many blankets and pillows in the way, the indoor date commenced.

The two of you had indulged in unhealthy junk food which you would definitely regret eating as movie-after-movie played on the screen. You’d laugh at certain parts of the movies, sometimes reciting lines.

Nat would turn her head to look at you, admiring your happiness and giving herself a mental pat on the back for bringing a smile back to your face.

She loved the little comments you would make during certain parts of the movies. Whether it was hilarious remarks or angry rants about the stupid decisions made in the films, Nat was positive she could listen to you forever and never get sick of it.

You’d occasionally nudge your girlfriend when you noticed her staring, nodding your head toward the television.

“The movie is on the screen, not on my face.” You’d teased, a smug smile on your lips, to which Nat would reply with a chuckle and shake of her head.

After all, your voice had been her favorite sound since the first day she heard it.

“Your face is more interesting than the movie though.” Natasha swiftly replied and smiled as your laughter met her ears. You’d playfully slap her shoulder, muttering a ‘shut up,’ before resting your head on her shoulder.

Your attention had been on the movies, but all Natasha could focus on was you. The way your head fits perfectly between her neck and shoulder.

The way the warmth your body radiated kept her warmer than any blanket ever could. The way her heartbeat still sped up whenever you were near, despite years of dating.

Natasha wasn’t one for superstition, but if she actually believed in soulmates, she could swear that you were hers.

Four movies later and a ton of food later, you both laid on your sides, face-to-face with one another. Nat’s arm found its way around your waist while yours hung around her shoulder.

Normally, eye contact is a very awkward experience for you, but not with Natasha. There was something comforting about her emerald irises, looking into her eyes and seeing the loving gaze she reserved for you, and you only.

“Thank you. I don’t deserve you or any of this, really.” You’d whisper, breaking the silence as your eyes scanned the rest of the redhead’s features.

“You’re right. You don’t deserve this.” Natasha’s response was not one you had expected, your heart feeling like it had stopped. You stared at her wide-eyed, your face laced with shock as she giggled.

“You deserve even more.”

At the Russian’s words, you relaxed once more, jokingly rolling your eyes at her. Nat’s thumb rubbed the exposed skin of your hip.

“Baby, I know you feel like you don’t belong on the team, but trust me when I say that you do. You are where you are today because you worked hard to get here.” Natasha’s hand trailed up your body, trailing over your curves until it landed on your cheek.

“The success of others doesn’t decrease the significance of your accomplishments.”

The redhead spoke firmly before leaning forward, placing a sweet kiss against your hairline. Your eyes fluttered shut at the feeling, and you couldn’t help but think about how the roles were reversed. As soon as Nat moved away from your skin, you pulled her into a kiss.

This kiss was unlike any of the others you had shared with Natasha. There was always love and passion behind every kiss, but it was never as present as it was at that moment.

You poured all the love you could possibly convey into each movement and brush of your lips against her own. But you knew that nothing, not words nor actions, could ever accurately portray the magnitude of the love you held for her.

After years of being in the background of your own life, you were finally in the foreground.

ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ

In a world full of misconceptions, you were lucky ㅤenough to be truly seen by the love of your life; ㅤ ㅤ ㅤ ㅤ ㅤ ㅤ ㅤ Natasha Romanoff.

ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ

───────── ･｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ──────────

taglist: @perfectromanoff @aliancvnas @marvelwomenslut @chaekhan @rvselie @imasimpfornatashamaximoff @natashaswifey @prentisshoe @mcubreakdown101 @yeetus-thyself @multiyfandomgirl40 @007giu @weelight @scotts-orange-slices @puppy-danvers2016 @acertainredhead @jdougl-love @lynxwhispurrs @mindofwesley @lostandsearching @tquick99 @rachel146 @illloveyou @thewidowsghost @uraveragelonelygay @wandasgirlfriend @sapphic-stress @suki-is-a-queen @xxromanoffxx @b-5by5 @hagridsmomma @blurryylines @yeeterthekeeper @maximoff-jp @midnight-lestrange @tomatonugget @mrs-avenger3000 @wandadarlingg @wandanatblogs @nooshe @simpfornatasharomanoff @xxxtwilightaxelxxx @grxvitye @thelastavenger-3000 @hunka-hulka-burnin-fudge @lightsaberfights @whvtfrvn @catasha

#natasha romanoff x reader #natasha romanoff #natasha romanoff x reader fluff #natasha romanoff fluff #black widow #black widow x reader #request done

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dilfdoctordoom · 3 years ago

Text

On Tom Taylor, the Current Nightwing Run & Ableism

I did mention I was gonna do a post about it, so here we are. There are some things I want to make clear before we begin: the issue exploded on Twitter on the very first day of disabled Pride month; disabled people have been discussing the ableism in Taylor’s Nightwing run since it began; nobody has blamed Taylor for what happened to Barbara in 2011. We are, however, blaming him for the way she is written in his series during 2021.

I am also going to be discussing the ableism in the fandom in this post. The reactions I have seen, from here to Twitter to TikTok, are showing not only a great misunderstanding of the situation, but a purposeful misunderstanding. The very real reasons disabled people are angry right now have been twisted to make us seem ridiculous and overly sensitive and I cannot help but feel that is very intentional.

Another quick addition: disabled people are not a monolith. Barbara Gordon spent over 20 years as a paralyzed wheelchair user. Stating (and I would like to note, never truly showing) that she is a part time cane user now is still erasing her disability. These things are not interchangeable.

So, with that out of the way, let’s begin.

Tom Taylor’s run is ableist. That is a fact of this situation. He made the active choice to include a version of Barbara Gordon that is ableist caricature. Story wise, the role that Barbara plays could have easily been filled by anyone else. There is no real season, within the narrative and outside of it, for Taylor to include this version of Barbara Gordon, who has received a decade of criticism from disabled people. It’s very well known that this iteration is problematic, to put it kindly, and Taylor is aware of that.

He made the active decision to include her, anyway, showing, at the very least, that he is passively, if not actively, ableist. Passive ableism is still ableism and disabled people are allowed to take issue with that.

That alone is reason enough for disabled people to be angry. But that’s not why things exploded on Twitter.

On July 1st, the very first day of disabled pride month, the new design for Barbara was dropped. After months of teasing Barbara’s return to a wheelchair using Oracle (see: Last Days of The DC Universe, Batgirl (2016), etc), they debuted... a new Batgirl costume that the artist has openly said draws inspiration from the Burnside suit.

There’s a lot of issues to unpack here, so let’s start small: the issue with consciously calling back to Burnside. The Burnside era of Batgirl stories was... beyond awful. The villain of the series’ first arc, was an AI based on Barbara’s brain patterns when she was disabled. It was evil because of all the rage and pain Barbara felt. The actual Barbara, on the other hand, was good -- because she was able bodied. Because her PTSD had been tossed aside. It was a horrifically ableist era that drove the idea that Barbara’s life was terrible when she was disabled; that it was some horrible, twisted secret.

Comics have kept that narrative going. Barbara is seen hiding books on chronic pain; she reacts aggressively to the mere idea that she could be in a wheelchair again, acting like it would be weakness. Whereas Barbara had once been Oracle not because of, but in spite of, her disability, who was fantastic representation for the disabled community, she now acts like it is the most shameful thing in her life.

To call back to Burnside is to call back to that ableism and make no critique of it. If anything, it’s to embrace the ideas of that era.

There is also the design itself to consider. Many people have pointed out the inclusion of a back brace, as if that saves it from ableism -- it does not. Any person who has ever worn a back brace can take one look at this design and know that they did not consult a disabled person. Hell, by how impractical that thing is, I doubt they even Googled a picture of a back brace.

It’s a superficial acknowledgement that Barbara is supposed to be disabled. Something that was apparently thrown in to appease the numerous complaints of Barbara being able bodied; something that no one working on it put any effort into.

When it comes to aids, this is not a new thing for Barbara in Infinite Frontier. She’s said to be using a cane occasionally, that we got a better look at in Batman: Urban Legends, and as any cane user can tell you... that is not a cane that could feasibly be used. It’s another pathetic attempt to acknowledge that Barbara is supposed to be disabled, without actually doing anything of importance.

[IMAGE ID: A segmented cane with a tri-pointed handle with a wrist strap. There is a stripe across the sections to connection them, labelled “solar battery charger buttons”. The text reads: “telescoping antenna doubles as cane or weapon if needed”. END ID]

Dropping this design (which we have now established to be problematic) on the very first day of disabled pride month is a sickening move. The very first day, and DC has doubled down on their disability erasure, thrown in superficial things like a back brace to act like it’s fine.

Tom Taylor is definitely involved in this, whether you like it not. No, he is not in anyway responsible for the events of the New 52 and what they did to Barbara Gordon, but that does not absolve him of blame for what is currently being done to her in his run.

When the design dropped, it started trending due to disabled fans reactions. To be clear: we were directly calling out the ableism in this design. This was Tom Taylor’s response:

[IMAGE ID: A tweet from TomTaylorMade that says: “Hey, @Bruna_Redono_F I think our new Batgirl suit is getting some attention.” He then adds a winky face emoji and tags @jesswchen and @drinkpinkkink. Attached are a screenshot showing that Batgirl is trending in the United States and a picture of the design itself. END ID]

This is him, bragging about how the disabled community reacted. Perhaps before this tweet, you could’ve made an argument that he was not ableist, but after he flaunted the fact that disabled people were rightly furious over this, like it was something to be proud of? No. If you are defending him, you are a part of the problem.

Taylor has included ableist writing in his Nightwing run, beyond the inherent ableism that comes with the current iteration of Barbara Gordon (whose inclusion, yet again, is his decision).

[IMAGE ID: A panel from Nightwing #79. Barbara and Dick are standing in his apartment. Barbara is saying: “I have some pretty new technology holding my spine together. I’m happy to do most things -- eat pizza in the park, take down low-level thugs -- but leaping from rooftops seems... unwise.” END ID]

What Barbara says in the panel above has bothered a lot of disabled people. The implication that she couldn’t “eat pizza in the park’ and “take down low-level thugs” without a spinal implant that conveniently erases her disability is... fucked up, to put it mildly. Those are both things that Barbara has done in a wheelchair. The first one is something wheelchair users can do and the implication that it’s not is beyond offensive.

But, let’s leave Barbara behind for a moment. I have previously mentioned that disabled people have been discussing the ableism present in this run long before July -- and that ableism is not only centred on Barbara. Dick is also a player in all this.

Dick Grayson was shot in the head. I don’t believe I need to retread the story, but just in case: Dick was shot in the head by KGBeast, developed amnesia from the event, and went by Ric Grayson for a long enough period in comics. If you have been active within the DC fandom for the past year or so, you know all about this controversial storyline and its fallout.

The Ric Grayson arc concluded itself the issue before Taylor became the writer for the series and ever since his tenure has begun, Taylor has completely ignored the reality of Dick being a disabled man. We understand this is comics, that things do not function the way they do in our world, but still -- it is clear that this gunshot wound to the head has affected Dick massively. We had an entire arc dedicated to how he struggled to find himself in the aftermath.

Taylor is choosing to write Dick as an able-bodied man, despite his canonical injuries and how they would impact his life.

This man is choosing to give empty gestures towards Barbara being a disabled woman (as discussed above, the completely dysfunctional back brace, etc) whilst writing her as able-bodied as possible. He writes both Dick and Barbara as able bodied as humanly possible. That is ableist. He is ableist. This is the same man that said he made a dog disabled ‘in honour of Barbara’. I do not think I need to elaborate on why that is bad.

The least he could’ve done, was get a sensitivity reader. We know that Taylor is not beyond getting people from marginalized communities to consult on his work (see: Suicide Squad), so why, when writing two characters that should be disabled, one that the disabled community have been criticising for a decade, does he not reach out to a single disabled person? A mere Google search could’ve improved the situation massively. In both the new design and the current writing, it is beyond clear that this is not just an able-bodied person writing it -- it’s an ableist person.

He could have listened to the numerous disabled fans that spoke out. Instead, he chose not only to refuse to do that, but to describe justifiable anger as ‘raging’. He treated us like we were crazy for daring to speak out about blatant ableism being parading around of us in our pride month.

Tom Taylor has failed to do the bare minimum and in doing so, he is, at very, very least, guilty of complicity. Again: passive ableism is still ableism.

The argument at hand is not just about Barbara Gordon and the continuing ableism that shines out from her current writing. The argument is about the treatment of disabled characters in his run. It has also become about the way he treats physically disabled people.

We also can’t have this conversation without acknowledging the fandom’s role in it all. I waited a day to write this up, to allow all the reactions to flood in... and I am sickened.

We have everything across the board. Able-bodied people that have actually listened to disabled people, who have supported us (which is deeply appreciated). Able-bodied people who may have had good intentions, but a skewed sense of the situation and perpetuating some of the more insidious lies being spread around (IE. that this is only about the new costume).

There are, obviously, the ableist reactions, though, that we will be discussing here. People deeming the current issues as ‘crazy’, calling disabled people ‘overly sensitive’ and ‘delusional’. Many people have completely glossed over the examples given for why Taylor, specifically, is ableist, and instead have resorted to telling disabled people that we are wrong and should be mad at DC instead.

It’s important to note that Tom Taylor is an adult man. He doesn’t need a fandom to attack disabled people for daring to call him out. He is not the victim in this situation; he has, for quite a few disabled people, been the aggressor.

I have seen claims that Infinite Frontier is a ‘slow burn’, implying that disabled people need to patient... as if we have not waited a decade for less ableist writing. There is a complete refusal from able-bodied fans to actually listen to what disabled people are saying. They would much rather rush to the defence of the (honestly rather mediocre) current Nightwing run.

Disabled fans know that comic book spaces are ableist. We know that both DC and Marvel and many of their writers are ableist. We are still allowed to be pissed as hell about it and acting like the current reaction being had right now is disabled people being ‘overdramatic’ is yet another example of how the able-bodied side of the fandom both refuses to listen to and undermine disabled people when we call out ableism.

We know it when we see it. We always do and we always will and we will always be able to recognize it far faster than an able-bodied person. If this many disabled fans are coming out and talking about an issue, calling it ableism, then it’s time for you shut up and listen.

Stop being a part of the problem and start supporting disabled fans for once.

#barbara gordon #dick grayson #nightwing #batgirl #tom taylor #tw ableism #okay to rb

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bellygunnr · 2 years ago

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For @assless-atlas -- a piece for their Operator and Warframe! My half of the trade.

---

The sirens wailing is what prompts Daryl to retract his fishing spear and reassess his surroundings. Was the eerie glow over the water a fabled hot spot, or sign of the local bogeyman starting to stir? With the stars blanketing the plains in force, it's definitely the latter. He slinks away from the shoreline, hoping his Warframe's dark coloration and naturally off-putting aura lets them both remain undetected.

We should get going. It'll be a walk, though.

He projects his proposal into the wavering connection between their two minds. To his surprise, Revenant actually responds-- with an amorphous sensation, a blur of feelings he spends a still moment identifying. Then, he's forcefully pushed out of Revenant's 'embrace.'

Daryl is launched several feet back from Revenant, landing squarely on his ass.

He lays there, stunned, letting the cold moisture seep into his clothes. They really couldn't afford another fight, no matter how many strength mods he crammed into Rev's spine-- that monster tree thing was too much, and he grumbles to himself as he climbs back to his feet.

Tracking Revenant isn't too hard, both because he didn't get very far and some tiny part of him is attuned to the Warframe, like an internal compass. Still, Revenant moves slightly and Daryl squelches in the mud, making him wish he'd dressed a little better.

"Sisk is gonna be so mad at us... This better be worth it."

The Eidolon lights up the night with an eerie pillar of blue. Daryl forces his way through thick grass and mud after Revenant, struggling to keep up with his long strides. Maybe leaving wasn't viable, but neither of them brought the gear for taking down the Eidolon--

"Rev, buddy, hey! I don't have my amp on me! You know that!"

They were supposed to fish. Catch some kuala, maybe a condroc or two. Revenant pulls himself up a rockface and crouches atop the formation, hunkered down in such a way that his flaming appendages form a halo. Daryl hesitates beneath him, long enough to hear it--

The first mournful howl, the song of the plains. Even from this distance, he feels the ground shake as the Teralyst prowls.

"Revenant," Daryl tries again.

Revenant keens. It's a low sound that raises in pitch, reverberating from his hollow chest, almost as sad as the Plains' denizen. He doesn't react to Daryl climbing up beside him except to try and make himself smaller in stature, either from his apparent sorrow or in an effort to remain hidden.

Daryl had no idea. His Warframe was weird at the best of times. The Teralyst either put him into a flying rage or severe melancholy, sometimes both. A part of him felt bad that he couldn't yet tell or predict the difference, but, well, Revenant had cut their line.

"Hey," he says gently.

A slight twitch of the helmet. Pale light courses across the Warframe's skin, in time with the golden haze lingering over the nearby ponds.

"Your singing voice ain't so bad."

It's hardly a joke, but Revenant still bobs his head like he heard him, or worse, liked it. Daryl carefully sits down beside him, tucking his knees close to his chest and letting the answering song wash over him.

The call-and-response reminds Daryl of the tuning forks used in animal conservation. He quickly banishes that line of thought.

Clouds run overhead, covering the stars in patchy netting, the horizon dark and heavy with the promise of more rain. Green flashes of light roam over the landscape, listlessly following the aimless path of the bogeyman, a unique danger. Sisk had noticed a while ago that they only reacted to their Warframes, but Daryl still felt uneasy even seeing the Vomvalysts.

Revenant, however, didn't mind them so much, though Daryl remembered his flashes of anger, too. Surreptitiously, he scoots closer to his Warframe's side, bones trembling with each song.

It echoes over the plains. Idly, he wonders if all Revenants are like his, or if other Revenants even exist. He certainly hasn't seen any...

"You're not trying to summon it or anything, right?"

He has to ask, just in case. Revenant turns his whole head to glare at him.

"Just-- just checking."

The Warframe groans, not like a thing of metal but like old bones shifting, of something massive settling. He adjusts his arm so that Daryl falls against him, then traps him against his torso. The flames flickering beneath his steel-flesh are warm, not cold.

A reprieve from the chill rain.

Daryl drops his head. A heavy hand follows, stroking down his back in what might be comfort, amusement, or-- whatever else Revenant might feel.

It was far better than being punted into the mud, at least.

#warframe #revenant #gunny writes #art trade

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bleufrost · 3 years ago

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There's Just Time (A Loki x reader Fanfic)

Chapter Three: A Home Amidst Chaos

Summary: You were an explosion waiting to happen who found love in the arms of a hurricane. Loki saw you as an angel that calmed his demons. For you, he was a savior that taught you to trust your abilities, yourself, and others. When he died, you were broken. You clung to any hope possible and watched as it all fell away. With nothing left, stories from your youth flooded back of a mysterious force that controlled time and space, and you knew that you would do anything to see him again...even if that something meant teaming up with the Time Variance Authority to capture the man you love.

Loki's begins to feel things for you that he can't deny. Time can't change everything, and not all secrets can stay hidden.

Words: 8,006

Warnings: grief, mentions of self harm, violence, death

main story: prologue | chapter one | chapter two

moments in time (avengers era, prelude): part one

If the world was ending

You'd come over, right?

The sky'd be falling while I hold you tight

No, there wouldn't be a reason why

We would even have to say goodbye

“Alright, I’m finished!” Loki clicks a few more times on the outdated computer, sending something off to be graded. He sits back in his seat with his feet on your desk, sending a smile your way that is quickly diminished by the far-off look in your eyes.

“You know, if you’re anywhere near as bored as I am, we could go off and have ourselves a bit of fun elsewhere?” His eyebrows raise suggestively and you actually take him seriously for a second. Just a second.

“As lovely as that sounds, I think I’m going to pass. Besides, the faster you get through with the lessons, the faster we can actually go out and do something.” Your hand comes up and swats at his feet, but he moves them just before you make contact. He’s smiling again. The small chase is something he clearly needs in this dreary prison.

“Did they make you go through all this training as well?” Loki’s eyes follow a few people as they walk around the room. While he could be searching for an escape, you actually think that it’s more out of curiosity than anything else.

Your shoulders shrug. “Mine wasn’t quite as extensive. I think the difference in apparent moral compasses might’ve screwed you over in this case.”

Loki feigns hurt, hand clutching his heart dramatically. “Well, little one, it’s a good thing they left you in charge then, isn’t it?”

Loki props his feet back up beside you and leans back. “Do you mind if I take a break?”

You relax, mirroring his position with a sleepy smile. “Not at all. I would’ve already taken twelve if I were you.” Loki motions to the stack of magazines behind you and you offer one up to him. His hands flip it open to a random page, eyes scanning in bored interest. You miss the sound of his voice instantly.

“Hey, do you mind reading that out loud? It looks interesting.” Loki flips the page over so that you can see it. His eyebrows raise in confusion.

“You’re interested in motorized water vehicles?” You look at the bright blue page and struggle for a second to hide your distaste. No, you weren’t interested in that at all.

“Yeah, of course. They're...fascinating.” He looks totally unconvinced, but lets a small laugh fall from his lips. If nothing else, it was amusing to him.

“Well, alright.”

Loki’s lips move swiftly over the page, his voice low and soft as he reads the advertisements in the magazine. He finds the whole thing rather plain, yet he doesn’t stop. Every once in a while, his eyes glance up from the pages to see you. You, with your wide eyes and adorable little smile. Everything about you felt small, not necessarily because of your stature or status as a human being, but because you came off as so open and trusting with him. Your eyes droop as he continues to read, and he finds himself making a conscious effort to quiet his voice. Read softer, slower, so that you can rest. He wasn’t oblivious to whatever you had with him in your timeline, he just wasn’t quite sure what it was. Regardless, some part of him thought he might understand.

Just as your eyes fall shut, a loud timer rings throughout the cubicle. Miss Minutes pops to life on the desk, waking you suddenly. Loki curses the glowing clock in his mind, but shuts the magazine swiftly.

“Okay, y’all. Let’s review what we’ve learned!” Realizing that this wasn’t necessary for you to participate in, you allow your eyes to fall shut again. The harsh glow shines brightly behind your eyelids and you can’t help the frustrated little cry that leaves your mouth when her shrill voice scolds Loki for not taking things seriously. When your eyes open again, Loki is staring straight at you with an odd mix between amusement and determination. One might even call it...mischievous.

“How about I silence this alarm clock for you?” You sit up as his feet quickly fall flat on the floor. Loki rises, rolling up the magazine and swatting at Miss Minutes with an amused grin on his face. She dodges a few blows and your own smile crinkles your eyes when she scolds him a second time. Loki grabs another magazine off the desk and tosses it at you.

“Help me catch her!” You fumble to grab the magazine, rolling it up tightly once you get a solid grip on it. Laughter quickly escapes your mouth as you and Loki lunge for an increasingly annoyed Miss Minutes. Just as you think you’ve got her, the clock launches herself into the computer. Your paper weapon lands a blow with a solid THUNK...right on Loki’s arm.

You look up at him, stifling a giggle as he stares at his arm in shock. “I am so, so sorry, Loki.” The words barely make it out in between laughs. When his eyes land on your smiling face, they narrow dangerously.

“Oh, you clearly aren’t...but you will be.” Loki reaches for you and you shriek when his arms find your waist. He swings you around and you find it difficult to breathe once he finds out you’re ticklish. Loki’s eyes crinkle with joy, loud laughter leaving his own lips for the first time in what could very well have been years. It felt good to have the walls down. To not fear an ulterior motive or wonder if an attack would come at any moment.

Loki felt safe with you and, as much as he wanted to, he couldn’t blame it on any charade composed by magic. Not here.

“I see the lessons are going well.” Mobius stops by the side of the cubicle, watching the two of you as you quickly compose yourself. Loki’s arms move from your waist, but hover just below your lower back. He straightens up slightly, mimicking you with the intrusion.

Mobius lifts his hands in a surrendering motion, trying not to seem like a threat to either of you. You didn’t exactly see him as one, his arrival was just unexpected.

“Gear up, kids. We’ve had another attack.” Mobius throws Loki a jacket and he pulls it on as the three of you walk. Stopping to admire it, he turns to you and models the new look. The colors are drab and the orange block letters feel intrusive, but he looks good. He always does.

“It suits you.” His nose scrunches up in distaste.

“Well, it’s repulsive so I would hope not. However, I do appreciate the compliment.” Once again, you find yourself laughing as you follow Mobius into the briefing room.

The meeting is incredibly boring. Much of the same information they originally gave is being repeated, and whether that’s for Loki’s sake or theirs, you’re unsure. You tune in and out, taking in any new information or straying conversation from the usual briefings. It takes everything you have to hold your tongue when Hunter B-15 makes a comment about Loki being a variant, but he holds his own without any interference. Your mind is still on autopilot when Mobius starts listing off Loki’s powers, and when he says the term ‘illusion projecting,’ you interrupt out of pure habit.

“Duplication casting.” Your eyes raise suddenly when Loki corrects Mobius at the same time as you. He grins at you, excited by the knowledge you apparently have on his magic. He then falls into a speech that explains the intricacies and differences in his abilities. A speech you could likely recite from memory, but adore hearing nonetheless.

Loki finishes his explanation with a sarcastic, “But, you already knew that.” The words are smug, the self-satisfaction only heightened by the smirk he offers the room. That changes when he looks your way. Instead of the self-righteous smile, he instead gives you a look that is far more sincere, as if he wants his words to you to be the same, but genuine.

While walking over to where your crew would depart, Loki suddenly asks another question that you’re surprised hadn’t come up sooner.

“Will I be getting my powers back once we’re out there?” He turns to Mobius excitedly.

“Well, yes.” Loki grins at you, the mischievous look becoming more and more normal for him now that he feels a bit more secure.

“Aren’t you worried about me betraying you?” His face falls when Mobius shakes his head. The resounding “no” taking a hit to his confidence for sure.

“You already know we can catch you, how is betraying us going to get you any closer to the Time Keepers?” The spark instantly returns to Loki’s eye. He turns to you, allowing Mobius to walk on ahead of the two of you with a satisfied smile. He knew Loki wouldn’t step out of line, not with the promise of a meeting on the table.

“Are you working toward an audience with the Time Keepers as well?” That thought had never really occurred to you. Quite honestly, the only real thing keeping you here was Loki. It did bring up alarming questions though, things that you hadn’t felt the need to consider until now.

“I’m not sure. I haven’t really put too much thought into that part of my plan yet.” His face goes from confused to stern, trying to work through what you just said and how you could have possibly not had an end game here. What he didn’t know just yet, was that he was your end game. You suppose getting him that meeting was likely your goal now too.

“That’s a bit alarming, though I’m sure you have your reasons.”

The renaissance fair that you find yourselves entering is dismally dreary. The skies are grey and the air cold as ice. Loki starts in again, firing questions at Mobius that garner relatively mundane responses. It was all new to him, you understood that.

The brightly colored flags stood stark against the dark clouds and you soon found your mind drifting to other things. Other circumstances and memories.

Tony had once forced your entire team to go to a carnival, insisting that it was a great opportunity for ‘team building.’ Loki was completely over the comical magicians and juvenile illusions. He honestly was ready to leave the moment you arrived.

It wasn’t until he saw your eyes light up with the twinkling lights of the roller coasters that he decided the carnival might not be so bad. The way you couldn’t keep your joy from bubbling over at the oversized stuffed animals and sickly-sweet treats was so beautiful to him. He spent the rest of the evening following you from place to place, laughing as you jumped up and down in excitement over the same things that most adults here overlooked. You acted as a child would. It had embarrassed you when he mentioned that later, but his assurance that it was not a bad thing made your heart feel so full of love for him. Loki understood that you had lost much of your childhood. He understood that you were denied moments of wonder and were instead forced into endless seas of pain. He understood, and he adored you all the more for your ability to allow yourself to feel that happiness now.

“If this place excites you, I fear you wouldn’t be able to contain yourself on Asgard.” Loki leans close to you as he says it. A gentle smile causes his eyes to crinkle in the corners. You smile too, though you look down as your cheeks redden. You were caught.

“If that’s an invitation, I gladly accept.” You look at him, the burning in your cheeks diminishing as you gain the confidence to fall into a familiar banter with Loki. Now it’s his turn to be caught off guard.

Loki’s mouth opens and shuts a few times, and he ultimately opts to just shake his head with a small chuckle. “Perhaps it is.”

Your smile drops once the tent flaps open. If you thought outside was dark, this place is a black hole. Small torches light up the corners of the room, but the light that they offer is hardly enough to see. Bodies litter the ground and you nearly yelp when you accidentally bump into one on the floor.

Loki reaches out to steady you, guiding you over to a clearing at the center of the tent. He does it so absentmindedly, so naturally that it feels as though he’s done it a thousand times before. In your memories, he has.

The rest of the crew fan out, examining bodies and searching for any clues as to the whereabouts of this other variant. You turn to move, hesitantly trying to find your footing in the darkness, but his hand reaches out instantly to stop you. When Loki begins to talk, they all halt.

“If you leave this tent, you’ll end up like them.” It’s bullshit and you know it. Loki has this way of looking a little too thoughtful when he’s making things up on the spot. It had taken you years to get the hang of it, but you could often read him like a lie detector now. Not all the time, but the times where he was desperately trying to conjure up an entire scenario with no moments notice...those you could call.

He keeps talking, ignoring Hunter B-15 as she urgently announces how little time you all have left. Mobius watches him for any sign of deceit, but finds none. He has them fooled. That is, until Mobius catches your eye. You don’t know what Loki is planning, but you know it can’t go on much longer without causing serious damage. Mobius sees this, and he leaps in where you won’t.

“He’s lying, just playing games. There’s no one out there.” Mobius points at Loki with disapproval. “I expected more from you.” He looks at you then with even more disappointment. “Both of you.”

Back on desk duty, you sort through a few stacks of paper trying to get things back in order after yet another person decided to look through Loki’s files without so much as even attempting to put them back where they belonged. It seems he’s a hot topic here, though you should have guessed considering this is one of the most exciting things to happen at the TVA since you’d arrived.

There was so much information in these files, and you often felt like you were intruding by reading them. Of course, you were here because you knew more about Loki than any words in a file could tell a person, but it still felt a little wrong. You would be lying if you said you’d read every part of them. There were things too intimate in here. Things that should be left to his discretion to share...even if they were about you.

“Let me park ya at this desk with our previous Loki expert. Here’s a good trick, pretend like your life depends on this.” Mobius heads off to the cafeteria, leaving Loki standing before you.

“I suspected I might find you here. Seems like we’re being punished.” He looks around the stacks of files and books with disdain. This is likely the most dreary part of the entire TVA.

You pull his files off of one of the chairs and motion to it, rising to send the files back to their shelf.

“Oh, we’re definitely being punished.”

After about an hour, Loki is completely bored again. You don’t blame him. He’s read through the same paperwork on each of the attacks multiple times already. It was busy work.

You look over the paper you were reading when he animatedly gasps. “Don’t tell me the variant ambushed and killed another team of Minutemen!” Your hand comes up to stifle a laugh and Loki’s eyes land on you for a second before he goes back to reading, this time purposefully putting on a show for you.

It doesn’t take long for the both of you to start laughing. You know this isn’t going to get you anywhere, might as well have some fun with it. And it is fun.

Unfortunately, not everyone thinks so. The librarian behind you shushes the two of you loudly, causing you to bite your lip in an attempt to quiet your laughter. Loki looks at you, brows scrunching down as though he can’t believe what she just did. He offers you one more glance, then turns around and shushes the lady back. You don’t even try to stop your amusement and Loki turns back to you with a wide grin. After a few more minutes, you have to get up to use the bathroom. When you return, your heart nearly drops.

On the desk lies scattered papers belonging to Loki’s personal files. Pictures and detailed descriptions of major life events sit out in the open, and you can’t tell if he was just haphazardly looking through them, or if the files spread out were ones he had already read. Your eyes land on multiple folders pertaining to the two of you, his time spent in a cell, the months you sat by his side in attempts to understand him and help him acknowledge his own good. You see The Avengers Tower, knowing that you spent years there fighting alongside him, reading alongside him, sleeping alongside him. It was jarring to be hit with it all over again. When you try to speak, your breath hitches in your throat. Loki looks up instantly, shoving the folder he was reading beneath another and grabbing for one randomly.

“Loki…” Your eyes begin to water, this wasn’t the way you wanted things to go. He shouldn’t have looked. Had he seen everything?

He quickly stands, reaching for you. His hands rest against your arms and he leans down to meet your eye.

“Please don’t be upset. I didn’t read anything that would be improper. I just wanted to understand.” You refuse to look at him, knowing that the tears would fall the moment you looked into his blue eyes.

“Understand what?” Loki holds you a little tighter. You could feel his hands tremble.

“Why someone as delicate as you would care for a beast like me. I could absolutely destroy you without batting an eye. It would be easy...yet you trusted me not to. You still do, even now.” There’s a strain in his voice when he speaks. The sharp blade of his words paining you deep within your chest. He couldn’t possibly believe he was capable of anything so cruel. Not after everything he knew about what would have awaited him in the correct timeline.

“It’s because you’re not a monster. We both know you couldn’t kill me ‘without batting an eye’ because it would hurt too much. Did reading those files help you understand that at all?” When you finally look at him, his eyes are pleading. He lets out a deep breath of air that he had apparently been holding.

“I feel as though I’d have to see it played out myself. And I know that isn’t something you’re comfortable with. I accept that. I’m okay with that.” Each sentence is punctuated with a soft squeeze of his hands. He’s wrong though.

“No, Loki. Seeing it wouldn’t make a difference. Everything in those files are things that you need to live. Watching it and experiencing it are two very different things.” His grip loosens ever so slightly as his shoulders fall.

“But I’ll never get to experience it, will I?” Now it’s his turn to look down, glassy eyes barely hidden. It makes your own tears spring forward again.

“Not the same way it happened before.” He nods his head once, accepting the solemn truth. It would never play out quite the same as before. It couldn’t. When his hands release you, your own instantly come up to rub the tears from your eyes.

You take your seat again, pushing his files aside to grab for another on the variant attack. Loki follows close behind, taking his own seat. You work in silence, feeling his eyes on you as you focus on ignoring his still-open files.

“I meant what I said by the way.” Your hands stop, hovering over another one of his folders that you were prepared to push away.

“What?” When you look up, he’s watching your hand. You drop it and his gaze falls to the desk in front of him, contemplating his words before he says them.

“I didn’t read anything that you wouldn’t have otherwise told me about. It was tempting, and I will admit that I saw the names on a few of the folders, but I find myself respecting you far too much to do anything like that. I suspect I know why.” As he says the last sentence, he meets your gaze once more. There is so much vulnerability in the air, you feel as though you might suffocate.

After a moment, you nod at him. Even if he had read every single file, he hadn’t done anything wrong. They were his files, his life, his choice. The way he said it though, reminded you that you could tell when he was lying. He wasn’t.

It takes another hour, one shrouded in silence, until Loki sparks up again. He lets out a little excited gasp, and when you look up at him you swear you can see tears in his eyes. You have no time to question him though, as he grabs your hand and runs with you to the cafeteria to find Mobius.

With a lot of effort and time spent convincing Mobius, some of that time used watching Loki goof off and completely season Mobius’ salad to death, your little team is off to Pompeii. Loki had come up with this theory that the variant was hiding in apocalyptic events, able to do whatever they pleased because the whole place would be wiped out. Nothing they did mattered there, so they could scheme without any interference from the TVA. That was the theory.

The village was beautiful, peaceful in a way that you weren’t accustomed to. As Loki and Mobius spoke behind you, you once again found yourself lost in the sights. There was a silence that echoed in your mind every moment you spent without your powers. In most places, you could almost ignore it, convince yourself that the hollow space within you was nothing but a ghost. There was always so much energy in places like the TVA. You could pretend that energy was more than just the normal buzz.

Here though, things were different. You felt a sudden sense of grief run through you. These people would be filled with fear in a matter of seconds, and you would be powerless to do anything to help them. They would be in pain, and you could offer them nothing. It left you feeling empty and useless.

A whoosh of air whips past you, breaking you from your sadness. Loki jumps up onto the back of a goat carrier, unlatching it and cheering the goats on as they run from their enclosure. You stare in shock, looking back at Mobius who only shrugs at you and shakes his head.

When he begins speaking Latin, you can only make out a few words. He’s so animated, it’s almost comical.

The volcano explodes behind him and the crowd screams, running for cover. Loki continues to run around throwing things and laughing.

“Nothing matters! Enjoy your last meal, dance while you still can!” He comes to a halt in front of you, holding his hand out toward you.

“May I have this dance?” You shake your head in disbelief. This doesn’t deter him though.

“Loki, are you serious?” He holds his hand out a little further, dropping the ‘end of the world’ charade and smiling at you genuinely. He looks almost shy.

“It is the end of the world, after all.” You look around, most of the people have left. What was happening was a terrible tragedy, but Loki was right; there was nothing you could do. Sometimes there just wasn’t.

His hand is large, making you feel safe as he closes it around yours. Loki gently pulls you close to him, resting his hand on your waist and guiding you in circles. He spins you around, and for a moment this chaos actually feels like home.

There are occasions when not having a sense of time isn’t quite so bad. You could drift through life, doing what needs to be done without worry of running out of it. Things felt like they went by quickly. This wasn’t one of those occasions.

Mobius flips another page in his folder and sighs. He rubs his eyes and shuts it, handing it to you to be placed amongst the various others you had already read through. A sleepy yawn leaves your mouth. As much as you hate field work, at the very least it required less monotony than this.

You really can't help it when your eyes begin to drift shut. Just like that, everything goes quiet.

Mobius watches you and Loki with an amused eye roll and tiny smile. The two of you had fallen asleep at the desk. You were leaning against Loki, his arm draped over you and holding you protectively to his chest. His head rested on top of yours, relaxed in a way that Mobius had yet to witness from either of you.

For two people who never quite let their guard down, you sure were calm now. Mobius remembered the day he first met you, a scared and desperate kid who nearly broke down when he agreed to give you a chance. You always played up not trusting him, but Mobius knew he was the closest thing you had to a friend for a long time before Loki appeared. You had depended on him, and he found himself wanting to keep that faith in him alive. You were just a kid, you didn’t deserve to have to go through half of what you already had.

Loki was a slightly different story. While Mobius knew there was much more to the god than trickery and illusions, he wasn’t anywhere near as gentle as you. While you hunted by demand, Loki did so for sport. He knew why you were attracted to Loki, he had read your file. You were a healer above all else. You found purpose in providing peace amidst turmoil. Loki was the ultimate hurricane. That had to be it. There was obviously no other explanation for your unwavering drive to protect him.

Mobius didn’t know it, but that was a very small piece of a much larger puzzle. The complexities with which you and Loki loved was not something that could be deciphered through reading. It wasn’t trivial in the slightest. It was deeply and remarkably emotional.

No, Mobius only saw a scared little boy and a girl who wanted to banish the fear from his heart. Suddenly, it hit him. Scared little boy!

A slam on the desk causes you to jump, awakening you from your nap. There’s something solid beneath your head, much softer than the wooden desk you expected to feel. Opening your eyes, you find yourself resting against Loki’s chest. It feels so safe here, so calm. His arms hold you close to him and you notice when he struggles to open his eyes. It felt like you hadn’t slept in days, so you understood the sentiment completely.

When Loki finds you snug within his arms, his heart beats a little faster. He's sure you can hear it, your head is so close to his chest. You're so fragile to him, and having you here against his body stirs up something within him that screams at him to protect you. He barely has time to process everything before Mobius flips open a file in front of the two of you.

“Wakey, wakey, kids. I found something on that Kablooie we picked up at one of the scenes.”

Rising from Loki’s chest, you feel his hands fall from around you. You miss him immediately.

“What’s that?” Loki stretches, leaning over to see the bag that Mobius pulls out.

“Candy. Do you have candy on Asgard?” Mobius looks at Loki incredulously.

You shake your head, both in response to the question and to clear the sleepiness from your mind. “Nope. None that he’s ever eaten anyway.”

Loki pipes up defensively. “Well, we have grapes, nuts, things of that sort.” Mobius looks at you, shock on his face. You shrug. When you first found out that Loki had never had candy, you made it your mission to overload him on sweets. You always adored sweet things, and sharing that with him was one of your favorite pastimes. Maybe that could be something you did again.

“No wonder you’re so bitter.” Loki stares after him, taking offense to the comment. Mobius doesn’t even notice, opting instead to slam another stack of papers down. Time to continue your work. At least you had a lead now.

“Remember, this is a class ten apocalypse. The variant should be considered hostile, and it is important to keep an eye out for reset charges. The variant steals one every time there is an attack.” This briefing is one you actually find yourself paying close attention to. You’d been to a few apocalypse sights while working with the TVA, not to mention the trip to Pompeii just recently with Loki and Mobius. While this shouldn’t be anything too extreme, the fact that the Loki variant could be there made you worry. While you knew finding this variant could get you one step closer to finally being free with Loki, something held you back.

Arriving at the sight, the rain pummels you brutally. The blue glow of the Roxxcart sign reflects off of everything around you. Holographs flicker in the rain, and you would almost find it pretty if not for the chill of the water.

By the time you make it into the store, you’re shaking and dripping wet. Loki stops beside you, puddling water onto the floor. Your nose scrunches up, attempting to hold back a sneeze, but you can’t. Trying not to call any attention to your shivers, you just smile at Loki and shrug it off.

Loki looks you over quickly, taking in the wet clothes and blue tint to your lips. His hand comes up and a bright green glow washes over you, instantly drying your clothes and warming you up.

“Wouldn’t want you catching a cold.” Now, he smiles and the green light dries him as well. You nod in thanks, bumping his shoulder and walking over to the rest of the group with him.

“Alright, I’ll go with our little sorcerers-”

“No. You two head out with D-90. He stays with me.” Mobius fights the hunter on this, insisting to no avail that Loki should stay with you guys. Eventually, she forces him to back down but the same definitely won’t be said for you.

“I go where he goes.” The hunter sighs and turns to you, staring you down. Walking up to you in an attempt to appear intimidating, she stands nearly chest to chest with you. It wouldn’t be that easy though.

“We don’t need you here. If you don’t want to follow my command, you can leave.” You glare back at her. If she thinks that you were going to back down now after having gone against the most powerful force in the universe, she had another thing coming to her.

“We both know exactly what I’m capable of and why I’m here. Don’t fucking threaten me.” She rolls her eyes, but you’re not finished.

“Every emotion, every fear, every little thing that you’ve pushed down because it’s just way too much to deal with. I’ll make you feel it. You will never know what peace is again. We can work together, or I can be the worst nightmare you’ve ever experienced. The only difference will be that you can never wake up.” The hunter’s eyes widen for the slightest of seconds, but it’s long enough for you to see that you won. Pushing past her, you walk back over to Loki and start heading down the hall.

Loki stares at the hunters and Mobius, eyebrows raised and expression definitely showing that he felt the embarrassment for them. He points in your direction and follows after you, impressed and completely in awe. It was easy to forget how scary you could be. Everything about you felt calm and sympathetic. You were easy to underestimate, but maybe that was deliberate.

The lights flicker around you and your heart rate picks up. You were never a fan of dark, enclosed spaces. When Loki’s footsteps catch up to you, you’re relieved for multiple reasons.

“That was quite impressive. Albeit, a bit frightening. Remind me never to get on your bad side.” You try to keep the smile off of your face, but his grin makes you feel at ease. Rolling your eyes, you smile back at him.

“I really doubt you’re scared of me.” Loki walks a little faster, getting in front of you and walking backwards to face you.

“You’re right about that. I don’t often back down from dominant individuals. It does do something to me though.” He winks at you and you laugh, smacking his arm playfully. You might just be thankful for the darkness now, considering it’s hiding the bright blush on your cheeks. You would never get used to the way Loki’s flirting made your stomach flutter to life with butterflies.

Your eyes suddenly catch sight of a man standing by the plants. “Who is that?”

Loki turns instantly, standing between you and the man. Hunter B-15 walks up to question him, her weapon held out protectively. Looking at him from behind Loki, you recognize something in him. Something that doesn’t feel like it should be there. God, you wish you could use your powers right now. Nothing felt right, but without them you had nothing to back that up. Still, you would risk looking foolish if there was a chance that you were right.

“Something’s off about him.” Loki turns his head to acknowledge you.

“What?’ The hunter walks closer to him, telling him to head back to the main part of the store.

“Wait, something isn’t right!” B-15 turns to you, but the man grabs her and falls limp. You don’t miss the light green magic that flows between them. She turns and smiles at Loki.

“So, you’re the fool the TVA brought in to hunt me down.” She looks at you from behind Loki, smiling wider. “And of course you brought the pet.”

Although it takes you a second to recognize what just happened, Loki catches on instantly. He smirks at her.

“Me, I presume. It’s so nice to meet you.”

She motions for him to follow her as she makes her way through the aisles. Loki squeezes your arm. “Stay behind me.”

“I was so worried that they’d found a better version of me. But now, seeing how delusional you are working for the TVA...well, I’d say that fear is gone.” Her legs swing, mocking you with how nonchalant she appears.

“I don’t work for the TVA, I work for me.” The variant turns around to face the two of you fully. She smiles and clicks her tongue condescendingly. Her head tilts, catching your eye.

“It’s cute that you believe that. I’m an enchantress, Loki. I can tell when someone’s under a spell.” He follows her gaze, moving to hide you fully when he notices where she’s looking.

The variant lets out a breathy laugh and turns back around. A worker walks up to her, and before you can do anything to stop it, the magic shifts between them.

Loki doesn't miss a beat, talking before the worker is even fully enchanted.

“I have an offer for you, that’s why I found you. I'm going to overthrow the Time Keepers and, cards on the table, I could use a qualified lieutenant." You try not to let that get to you. He says it so easily, the words flowing without any hesitation. It couldn't be the truth, right? You could read him like a book, but right now you were struggling. It was just the nerves.

"And I assume you mean me and not your little pup." That one hurts. For so long it was common for people to see you as some lost child next to Loki. They treated you as though you were a victim, being corrupted and taken advantage of while blind to it all out of love. You weren't blind, and you weren't some useless toy.

You were so caught up in your thoughts that you almost missed the look he gave you.

Loki's eyes lock on yours minutely. He tilts his head just slightly, but you know the look. He has a plan. Trust him.

"There’s only one person I can trust. So what say you, Loki?" He holds his arms out invitingly, gently pushing you further back in the process.

"Don't call me that. Enough with your games, I'm not interested in ruling the TVA."

Their eyes take on a shift, anger surging through them as they turn away. Loki follows after them.

"If you don't want to overthrow the TVA, what do you want?" Electricity hums around you, the lights flickering violently. When they go down, you can see the orange glow radiating from multiple spots around you. Loki looks around as well, he faces you with an urgency that sparks panic in you.

When he speaks, his voice is low and rushed. "Go find Mobius. If there's a fight here, you don't need to be a part of it."

Your head shakes and you reach for him. If there was going to be a fight here, you weren't going to leave him. You were never the best fighter, not without your powers. You could help though. You had to.

"I'm not leaving you alone with them." He wants to disagree with you. The conflict flashes in his eyes, but he has little time to argue. Loki nods his head toward the corner. If you want to stay, you don't need to be at the center of it.

Loki turns and steps toward the variant slowly. They changed again while the two of you spoke. This new body was large, clearly strong and far more intimidating than the previous.

Loki is undeterred and his arms stretch out, directing the attention to the glowing charges around the room.

"I see, that's your plan. Lure us all here so you can blow the place up."

Overhead, the lights flicker again. You see them charge forward and scream when they kick Loki forcefully across the room.

"Thank you for helping me stall for time, you really do love to talk." Loki rises just as the variant steps forward. You scan the room for anything that could be of use and find a cable hanging off of a shelf.

Your arms reach for it, swinging it overhead and wrapping it around the variant's neck. Your legs swing up and use his back as leverage to pull harder on the cable. Natasha had taught you a thing or two and you were now thankful for the hours spent getting kicked around by her on a mat.

Loki rushes to you, punching the variant in the face. You feel him stepping backwards and can't move fast enough to avoid smashing into the aisle behind you. The metal digs into your spine and you yelp in pain, letting the cable go. Your body falls to the floor and the variant grabs for your throat while you attempt to recover.

Just as his hand is about to close around your neck, Loki swipes his feet out from under him. The man's head slams against the floor, temporarily incapacitating him.

Loki locks his hand on yours to help you rise.

"Are you alright?" You nod your head rapidly, getting up to make yourself less of a target. "Are you?" Loki checks himself over. "It appears so."

The break is short-lived as Loki takes a hard hit to the side. The variant locks its sights on you. He kicks violently and you barely dodge it. Your arm swings back to strike the man in the face, giving Loki the chance to run back over to you.

Loki grabs you quickly, pushing you behind him as the enchanted man sends another kick your way. He blocks it, but just barely. Loki summons a vacuum cleaner to his hand, swinging it around to send the man flying back. He runs over to you, holding your arm and looking back occasionally to make sure the man is still down.

“If I can get you close enough while distracting him, do you think you could stop the enchantment or put him to sleep?” You shake your head, knowing that you can’t. His powers may be available to him out here, but yours still aren’t. As long as the TVA knows where you are, your powers are kept from you.

“I know you probably don’t use them much now, but I know what you can do! This Loki is incredibly resilient, I’m going to need your help if we aim to stop him.” You continue to shake your head adamantly.

“I can’t.” He grabs your hand, knowing that your magic often resonated from the centers of your palms.

“Yes, you can. I’ll take the fall for it, you don’t have to worry about a thing.” Loki squeezes your hand in his, the urgency in his actions hitting you down to your core. You feel useless. Your fighting abilities were minimal at best. Loki could take this variant without you, but you were barely a distraction to him. The TVA had left you powerless and with very little means to protect yourself. You couldn’t do anything and it made your stomach twist now that it was directly affecting Loki too.

“Loki, I can’t!” A small spark stings the hand that Loki has wrapped in yours. Your eyes grow wide at the feeling, knowing that it couldn’t have possibly been you...right?

A low chuckle sounds from behind the two of you and Loki rises to hide you from the opposing figure. They're much smaller now, and their voice is softer.

“Leave the poor girl alone." The person steps closer, slowly shaking their head at Loki as though scolding a child.

"How is she supposed to use her magic when they have her chained up like a dog?"

Loki turns back to face you, a thousand questions floating through his mind. Only one matters at this moment though.

"They keep them from you, even out here?" His eyes fill with pain, knowing that he played a part in that somehow. Even if he hadn't outright forced you to do it, it was still his existence that led to it. You had abandoned a part of yourself for him.

You look down, suddenly feeling humiliated. The shame of what you were willing to lose felt so much heavier now that he knew. It wasn't just a temporary restraint like he had been given. At this point, you had been severed from your powers for what felt like years. It was shameful.

He struggles to find the right words to say, but nothing can make this better. He couldn't imagine the pain you were in. Remembering the person behind the two of you, Loki says what he needs to in order to keep the focus off of you. He knew you weren't useless without your powers, the fight you had just put up proved it. You didn't quite see that same strength in yourself though, so he wanted nothing more than to ensure you weren't the target of this variant's attacks.

"You clearly know she's no threat to you, so what do you want from me?" Loki turns away from you, stepping up to the variant.

"This isn't about you."

Everything in the store powers down. As the lights go out, reset charges glow and vanish in squares of glittery gold.

In front of you, the variant picks something up and waves at you and Loki with a satisfied grin. She disappears in the portal before you can even think to move.

The glow of the portal casts Loki in a golden light. He stands by it, watching as the variant runs through and disappears. You can see the hesitancy in his face. He's struggling.

“Loki-” Before you can even finish, he cuts you off with urgency.

“Come with me.” You make no move to approach him, fearing that he might do something rash if he feels trapped. You’re confused though. He couldn’t have just asked that, could he? He knew you had no powers now, so why wouldn’t he just go?

“What?” Loki quickly turns to face you, taking long strides to reach you in as little time as possible. His hands come up to squeeze your arms, trying desperately to garner all of your attention. He needed you to see how serious he was right now. How sure.

“Come with me. I know that there is much more to our story, and while I respect your wishes not to show me, I also don’t think I’m ready to live this life, my life, without exploring what still could be.” His eyes are so piercing, so pleading.

You’d given up everything once to see Loki again. Risked imminent death just for the small hope that he might still be out there somewhere. Hell, you had gone against the Time Lords themselves to reach the TVA so that you could find Loki...and he hadn’t even asked that of you then. Why now, when he’s nearly begging you to run away with him, would you say no? He knew your powers were being locked away from you, yet he still wanted you beside him.

What you didn't know was that the discovery of your powers was the final straw for Loki. His time with you may have been limited so far, but he was certain that the kindness and genuine care for him that you showed, even when you didn't think he'd find out, was not something that he could ignore. In his heart, he knew that he held so much emotion for you. Even now, the urge to have you by his side was far too strong to deny. The fact that his affection was clearly mutual made him ache for further discovery.

Behind you, hunters and TVA agents run closer. You can hear Mobius calling to you and Loki, but neither of you make any move. Loki is waiting for your decision. It suddenly dawns on you that he might not leave if you don’t make one, or if you decide to stay. He would sacrifice what was likely his only opportunity to escape if running meant leaving you behind. You already knew your answer, but that solidified it. You would happily go wherever Loki led you, because you knew that he would do the same.

“Let’s go.” His eyes twinkle with relief and pure happiness at your words. You chose him. You knew he was unaccustomed to that; to being someone's choice. He’d have to get used to it very fast now that you two were going to be on the run together.

Loki grabs your hand, stopping once more to look at Mobius apologetically. You would be lying if you said it didn't hurt a bit to betray him. You had to though.

With that, Loki pulls you through the portal with him. It seals shut behind the two of you in a glittery display of light.

a/n: can you guys guess which scenes made me happy in the show? there was so much smiley loki in this chapter, and while i cant stop myself from being slightly angsty, i hope you guys liked the fluffiness in this. please never be shy to tell me what you think, i love hearing from y'all and your interactions make my heart so happy. have a lovely weekend angels!

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wesimpforxiao · 4 years ago

Text

Say My Name and I’ll Be There: 8.2; Lantern Rite Part 1

You never had the chance to push Childe for answers on his vague statement, even after the two of you arrived in Liyue on the afternoon of the Lantern Rite. It was as busy as you remembered, though it was nothing compared to how it would be once the sun set. You weren't new to the festival, as you had gone a few times with Granny when you were a child, but that was a long time ago. You were around twelve years old the last time you had joined the festival.

Being here again was like a breath of fresh air.

It was a shame that breath of fresh air turned stale when Childe continued to prod at you. "So, ojou-chan, what will you be doing after dark?" He had intentionally turned it into a suggestive question, his smug brow raising slightly even after you glared daggers at him.

"I'm going to walk around, of course," you replied without giving him an inch. "And I'm going to find Aether and Zhongli, too."

"Oh? Aren't you forgetting someone?"

"What I do in my free time is none of your business," your jaw tightened. "You, Tartaglia, are literally a child. Why don't you step aside and let your elders do what they want? I am older than you, you know."

"I see you've picked up Signora's attitude," he moped and finally dropped the subject.

Perhaps you had, even though you hated her with all your life force after the trick she pulled at Angel's Share. Even so, you couldn't help but bite the harbinger that fed you after he made strange offhanded comments about his own behavior, or his self-proclaimed 'apology' gift, or the way he held you the first time you felt Xiao's suffering. You still couldn't figure out what was going on with him, and quite frankly, you could care less. That's what you told yourself, anyway.

Was he an ally or an enemy?

"Earth to Mezzetin." He rudely poked at your forehead. "Is everything alright? You've been obnoxiously loud all day and now you're quiet."

"You do realize you're equally as obnoxious?" You met his eyes head-on after pulling away from your thoughts. "I'm hungry."

"Ah, thought so. Here," he handed you a heavy sack of mora without warning. "I'll be at Northland Bank if you need anything."

"Eh? That's it?" You watched him begin to walk off, expecting much more of a threat to your life if you so much as thought about running.

"You said it yourself ojou-chan, you're an adult," he called out over his shoulder. "I'd expect you to act like one in these circumstances."

"Wha--!" You scoffed at his shrinking figure as he climbed the stairs to the Snezhnayan bank. "Ugh, whatever." Your gaze fell to the mora pouch in your hands. Maybe I'll stop by the funeral parlor first and find Zhongli.

When you did, the archon paled at the sudden surprise appearance. "How did you find yourself in Liyue Harbor?" He scanned your body as if you were to be handled with care. "I was under the impression you would remain at Zapolyarny Palace until further notice. How did you happen to gain the Tsaritsa's trust so quickly?"

"Eh, you'll have to ask Childe that." You didn't notice Zhongli's eyes narrow with contempt. "He won't tell me why they decided to have me accompany him here," you answered without skipping a beat. Though the archon was certainly thrown off guard, the two of you appeared to start right where you had left off like none of the events in the past two months had ever occurred in the first place. It was refreshing to be with a friendly presence again, and you sighed in relief, hiding a wince from the sharp pain in your ribcage.

The movement didn't go unnoticed by Zhongli. "Ah, yes...Allow me to brew you some tea. The leaves I've gathered recently have exceptional pain-relieving qualities, though they don't compare to that of Xiao's medications--"

"How is he?" Your interruption stopped the man in his tracks. "Is he okay?" If Zhongli knew you were feeling Xiao's pain, that meant the yaksha had been in contact.

"He's as well as he can be, given the circumstances he's been burdened with. Do not worry yourself with him. Please, take a seat."

You watched Zhongli's graceful movements as he prepared a kettle and brought the water to a boil, dropping the leaves in when it was hot enough. You were oblivious to the thoughts that ran through his mind as he sent a wry smile your way.

That day, I made a grave miscalculation, Zhongli thought back to the group's encounter with Childe in Fontaine. A guilty sigh escaped his lips as he poured the tea into two ceramic teacups.

.....................

Deception. Maybe Zhongli was a little too good at playing the part of an innocent bystander, if he had succeeded in fooling Aether not once, but twice. But this route would be the only way to ensure yours and Xiao's sanity...The archon grit his teeth as he parried Childe's relentless blows in the pouring rain. The harbinger didn't hold back even though this was all for show.

How long did the fighting go on? Twenty minutes? Thirty? An hour? Childe gave the signal to Zhongli as he summoned his fifth and final narwhal using the rain that fell around them. Most of the group was worn out from constantly changing tactics as the harbinger switched between his vision and delusion. Childe was so much stronger than the first time he faced off with Aether...but so was Aether. Zhongli understood the only way to make this plan work would be to sacrifice his two closest allies in one way or another.

"Retreat!" Zhongli gave the order and an exhausted trio followed it without question. Well, except for Aether.

"We can't leave Xiao!"

.................

He had hoped he gave Xiao the push he needed to seal the bond, but it apparently was not enough..."Here is your tea," he placed the teacup in front of you before sitting at the opposite end of the table. "Tell me, have they remained true to their word and put an end to your experiments?"

You blew at your steaming cup before taking a small sip. "Yeah...They've already begun testing on Fatui agents, but every single one of them dies. It's funny, actually. Dottore still can't figure out the correct ratio for my blood. I've watched hundreds die."

"And how are you?"

That question was loaded, but you swallowed the nervous chuckle that had bubbled in your throat. "I'm just glad to be so close to home." To him, you meant, even if the two of you never actually met up during your stay here. Your eyes trailed to the window, and Zhongli noticed the sadness in the depths of your gaze as you watched people decorate the buildings with xiao lanterns.

"Xiao will be especially busy today, fighting off the demons that rise from the festivities," he answered your looming question. "But I am sure he would find the time to meet you if he knew you were here."

"You know, I hold most of his memories, but I can never seem to know what he's thinking." Your low voice captured the archon's attention again after a few silent minutes. You were saying it more to yourself than to spark a conversation, eyes still gazing out the window. "Maybe I am chasing after a fruitless dream."

"Your love for Xiao is strong."

"Eh?" Your head snapped back to the present moment. "H-how did you--did he--?"

Your flustered composure drew out a low chuckle from Zhongli, and he set his teacup aside. "I've lived for six thousand years; I know a thing or two about human concepts and emotions. The entire group has known for quite some time."

"I was that obvious?" An insane amount of heat rose to your cheeks and you buried your face in your hands. "So did he know before I...?"

"Xiao may be a few thousand years old, but he understands humans less than I do. I can confidently say you caught him off guard."

You peeked out from behind your fingers. "Hm?"

"It is not my place to say anything more on the matter," his lips tugged into a friendly grin as he brought the teacup to his lips once again. "But I would not call it a 'fruitless' dream."

.................

The lanterns that lit the streets of Liyue illuminated the bustling crowds of people that were focused on getting food, souvenirs, and lanterns that were to be released later that evening. You had parted ways with Zhongli in an effort to find Aether, with no luck in locating the boy even after nightfall. Despite this, you navigated the festival alone in hopes of running into him as you eyed the food stalls.

That is, until the voices grew louder. You swayed on your feet from the unexpected wave of nausea that overcame you, and grabbed onto one of the support beams next to the stairs. Xiao was fighting something again, wasn't he? You had felt the damned creep up on you as the day progressed, but nothing prepared you for the jarring pains that were too similar to the first time you had felt this side effect. You nearly puked from the overwhelming sensation, coughing into your hand only for it to be splattered with blood.

Not again, you stared in horror as you hastily blinked away the splotches in your vision. A quick glance around confirmed that there were children in the immediate vicinity, and you didn't want to scar them with the sight of you on what was supposed to be a happy night. Your eyes flit to the distant building that housed the Northland Bank, and you were determined to make it there even if it was a bit too far for you to walk at the moment.

You stumbled through the crowd on unsteady feet and shallow breath until you bumped shoulders with a boy and tripped. "Ngh!" The impact worsened your dilemma, and your eyes caught those of the person you ran into.

"Sorry! Wait, are you okay, ma'am?" The white-haired boy retracted his outstretched hand and instead knelt at your side to offer his shoulder. "You..." This energy....could it be that I can finally...?

"U-um, excuse me." You struggled to your feet and tried to make your way to the bank again. This time you were immediately halted by the boy.

"Ma'am, are you by any chance experiencing paranormal activity?" His hard gaze made you hold your breath without realizing. When he saw your eyes flash as if someone had held a lantern to your face, his grip on your shoulder loosened ever so slightly. "My name's Chongyun. I'm an exorcist. Do you mind if we speak in private?"

He brought you to the docs, which were a little less crowded than the main area of the harbor. Chongyun watched as you sat down and steadied your breathing while attempting to sneakily wipe away the blood that dripped from the corner of your mouth.

I finally haven't scared them off, the boy thought as he stared at you in wonder. Why now, though? "Ma'am, can you tell me what's going on?"

"I-I appreciate your concern," you ground your teeth together while another wave of pain consumed you, "but I d-don't need your help."

"When did you start feeling this way?" Chongyun sat with his legs crisscrossed in front of you, and summoned a deck of cards from his pocket. Anger boiled as you watched him shuffle them in his hands and set them in the space between you one at a time.

"I wouldn't do that," you growled while your thoughts grew hazy.

"Don't worry, this won't hurt you." He started mumbling some sort of incoherent verses before flipping one of the cards.

"I said DON'T!"

Chongyun caught your hand before it could swipe the cards away from the pier's surface, and he locked eyes with you. He took a deep breath before speaking as if you were the one agitating him. "Those are the evil spirits talking. I can tell you're not that far gone. Sit patiently, and I can help you."

You blinked for a moment and regained some control over yourself, relaxing your shoulders once he let go of your wrist. "What is it you're trying to do?"

"Purge evil; it's my job. We exorcists have protected Liyue for generations," he flipped another card over, noting your tension rising again before dying down. Whatever he was doing with those cards seemed to piss off the voices in your head.

"Like adepti?" You grimaced when he replaced one of the cards with another.

"Yes, much like the Guardian Yaksha of Liyue," he replied calmly while testing your reaction with another card. "I have much respect for him, but--"

"Xiao? Have you seen him?" Your hand burned when you grabbed his, but you ignored it once you caught his attention. "Have you seen him recently?"

"You know him by name?" Chongyun was as confused as you were. "That's odd, I thought we were the only ones who--"

"Hey!" A high-pitched voice interrupted the conversation, and the two of you turned your heads toward the sound. Paimon was flying towards you, Aether running right behind her. "What are you doing here?! Are you okay? Did you escape? Did you kick Childe's butt?"

"I--" Aether stopped himself from hugging you when he saw the dried blood on your hand, his relieved smile fading into a concerned frown as his feet came to a halt. "...Are you okay?"

"You know each other?" Chongyun looked between the trio and summoned a new set of cards. These ones held terrifying symbolism of demonic entities you didn't wish to know the name of, and he placed them over the other ones that sat on the ground.

"Ngh!" A hand covered your eye in an attempt to put pressure against a sharp pain. "You can't help me! Enough of this!"

"...W-what's wrong with her?" Paimon trembled slightly when she heard the uncharacteristic aggressiveness in your voice. "Is she...possessed?!"

"Not quite," Chongyun returned his eyes to you in deep thought. "I've never seen this before..."

"Wait, your positivity didn't scare them off?" Aether suddenly looked a lot more concerned, and he moved so that he sat beside you. Chongyun scared every spirit away...if that didn't happen this time, it must've been a bad sign. "What happened to you in Snezhnaya?" His voice was a mix of both guilt and anger.

"Zhongli didn't tell you?" It took all your strength not to attack the three of them as Chongyun put another card down.

"The group went their separate ways after you..." Aether shook his head and put a hand on your shoulder when he noticed the malice in your stare. "What did Childe do to you?"

"It's just another side effect," you growled and pushed his hand off. "I'm not possessed like this guy is saying."

"Is this true?" Paimon's skepticism antagonized you further, but you bit your tongue.

"We should take you to Zhongli," Aether pulled you to your feet without hearing your objections. If your words were accurate, then there was no way the exorcist could help. "Sorry, Chongyun! She'll be fine!"

"W-Wait! Ah-" Chongyun already lost them in the sea of people that were getting ready to release their lanterns. It was almost time to fill the sky with the light of human prayers and wishes to the adepti.

..............

Once out of Chongyun's vicinity, the voices dispersed as if nothing had happened. "What the hell--" Your confused grumblings caught the attention of Aether as he guided you through the crowd. "This is so stupid."

"So you're able to feel Xiao's mental distress?" He glanced back at you for a brief moment once he figured out what he had witnessed. "At least now, he has someone that can understand a little bit of what he's going through, right?"

"I don't know," interjected Paimon. "Didn't Zhongli say the yakshas fell one by one from karma? Wouldn't feeling Xiao's karma kill you?"

"Probably." Your uninterested answer brought both of them to look at you, only to find that your eyes were surveying the crowd with expectation--or was it hope? Your companions exchanged knowing, but glum glances.

"He won't be here."

Aether's words went through one ear and out the other. "Yes he will."

"Um...Paimon doesn't think so. Xiao doesn't like crowds, remember?" You were so different than a few months ago...Each sound seemed to startle you or make you wince, and you had a peculiar distant look in your eyes. Your friends were growing more and more concerned about you.

Xiao, I'm here, you called out in your heart, not fully aware of it.

..........................

Coming up: A long-awaited reunion. The fears of a yaksha. A display of trust.

#genshin impact #xiao genshin impact #genshin impact xiao #xiao x reader #genshin x reader #lantern rite #xiao lantern rite #genshin impact lantern rite

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lexiwright · 4 years ago

Text

Night out

Benny watts x reader

I'm so so so sorry this to so long to come out. I had planned it to be out for new year and then I kept changing my mind so it may not seem like it makes sense apologizes, I'm also promptly moving tomorrow. I literally was told my parents couldn't handle me and my mental health anymore and am not getting kicked out just ( space for everyone ) so yea I'm feeling very low and just so no one wonders why the next one will probably take so long. I'll be living with my real mum who has her own issues too so we will see

Trigger warning - slight alcohol miss use. Slight drunken abuse (not from benny he would never.)

Some cuddles and fluff

Prompt - ”Can you please come and get me ”

--------

It had been a less than successful night. Your sure others wouldn't agree but you sat next to a gutter at the side of a very quiet road in front of a building of which merely hours ago you had been drinking aside friends in had drunk adults spilling from the door as everyone came and went.

Your arms wrapped tightly around yourself, you glanced around and spotted a payphone a little down the street. Pulling yourself off the ground and reaching for your bag you stumble your way away from the slow rumbling music that clung around the door from inside. It got distant and you fell into the booth.

You thought about how the night had started. The party had been on everyones mind for days. You were going with cleo and the boys. Beth was even gonna meet you guys there. Who was in New York for a few days, staying in a hotel a few blocks from the party. Although she didn't stay long, trying to keep sober.

You guys had got there around 11. In time for the beginning of shots being pasted around. Which you off course accepted. Kick starting the night with some vodka.

All went well for a few hours, by about 2 you'd put back your fair share of drink. And that's when it started to hit you. You weren't a stranger to the results of alcohol tho and kept going like it was nothing.

But apparently your uneven walking had caught the attention of some...less than pleasant individuals. They had tried talking to you before and you just ignored them. They had a look in their eyes that you weren't comfortable with so you didn't dwell on them.

But they had dwelled on you it seemed. They noticed as your balance had started to wobble. Quite possibly noticing when your words all slurred together. And definitely when you stumbled in front of them as you had unsuccessfully attempted to step past one of them. But there was no call for the man to grab you. And not in a way to help you balance. You told him to let go. But his hands had other ideas. You tried to pull his hands off of you and your not sure what happened next but he slapped you.

You probably did something wrong you thought. You always screw things up.

Some words were exchanged and you rushed out. Not after kneeling him in a not so nice place. he tried to grab you. Ripping the shoulder of your one straps. It was a cheap dress but now you had to make sure you help up the strap just in case.

You felt humiliated and your face hurt.

You found some money in your bag, next to some mint gum that you decided was a higher priority.

Benny hadn't come to the party. He thought it sounded stupid. And when you had stepped out of your room into the middle of the apartment he looked at you and snorted.

” what do you expect to get in that get up?” he asked suggestively.

You didn't think anything of it and giggled at him. But now you thought maybe it truly was your fault an that you seemed like you were asking for it.

Shaking your head to clear it of such thoughts. Which made the small booth spin a little but you stuck with it. Putting in the coins and trying to remember the right numbers for the house. You felt sick as you listened for the click of the phone being a answered and a harsh voice on the other end speaking.

”hello?”

It was Benny. Hopefully you hadn't woke him.

” Benny?” you whispered out. Realising you had to speak

” Y/N?” he questioned. Voice softening a little.

You twirled the cable as you stared at your shaking hand.

Your throat seemed to close up as you looked for the words. To explain how drunk you had got. To explain what the men tried to do to you. Why you hadn't come home yet even though it was now 3.

” Y/N what's the matter” he asked sternly.

Your eyes pricked with sudden tears and with a slight choke you sobbed out.

”Can you please come and get me ”

”what happened where are the others?” he seemed startled

” I don't know. I'm sorry. Please Benny.”

There was a split second of silence and then

” I'm coming to get you stay right where you are. ” and then another click.

You waited. Felt like a life time. You thought about a lot of things. Part of you was worried Benny wouldn't come. That he would leave you here. You struggled to keep your self balanced so you went over to a step and sat down. Put your head in your hands with your elbows resting on your thighs.

You sighed. Maybe you should find your own way. You sat up and ran your fingers through your hair.

It wasn't to long before a taxi pulled up in front of you and outstepped a slightly frustrated looking Benny.

His hair askew and a loose black shirt, he took a few long strides to reach you.

Looking up you giggled at how tall he looked. Sighing at your antics he held out a hand and began to pull you too your feet.

Wobbling considerably you made it to an upright position and with a long arm around your waist you stumbled your way to the taxi.

You some how got in. A testament to what a person would do to get away from a party.

You could tell he hadn't noticed your strap or face yet, you had concealed it well. Somehow.

Time didn’t work for you so you’ve no idea how long it took to get home. But when you did benny got out first to open the door for you and pay the driver.

Thanking the man. He shut the car door and watched for a second as it pulled away before turning his attention to the more presssing matter of the drunking idiot before him. Giggling at a joke he obviously missed.

He noticed your face. You saw the moment he did and he stepped closer. Enough to see the outline of a hand.

This was when Benny realised there was a little more to this story of you just getting blitzed as he, for the first time took in your appearance, clocking the strap you were holding up with your arms folded.

A hint of rage passed through him before he calmed and took your hand to get you inside. You were barely three steps into the building befor you asked

“How am I supposed to get down the stairs”

Slurring lightly.

He sighed. Not for the last time and leaned down to hoist you into his arms and proceeded with caution as he walked with you. You giggled some more as you wrapped your arms around his neck, hugging into him.

You were drained. And you wanted to sleep. Leaning your face into his neck you've never felt safer.

When he reached the bottom he placed you down gently and unlocked the door to let you both in. This time just holding you round the waist as you wobbled down the small set of stairs. He then pulled you to the sofa and sat you down.

After doing the usually after drinks things like water and getting you a jumper and some shorts of his he then sat next to you and spoke for the first time since you's had got in.

”are you going to tell me what happened?” he gently pushed. Not wanting to push you over the limit but he was concerned.

Your face fell and you nodded a little and told him very roughly but enough that he understood what had happened. He was angry, to say the least, but knew there was nothing he could do about the disrespectful toad roaming the streets. So he settled to offer you an open arm for you to cuddle into him. You of course jumped at the offer and snuggled into the warm man.

You didn't want to go to bed and Benny knew that. Knowing you'd not have the effort to get up and both being quite comfortable where you both remained.

You spotted a book on the coffee table and looked up at Benny with puppy dog eye that you knew he couldn't refuse.

” will you read to me?” you pleaded.

He chuckled and lent forward to retrieve the book. It happened to be the hobbit. ( I know it's not for everyone but I know it's written before Benny time so apologies please roll with it)

As he started to read chapter one an unexpected party and began describing the hobbit hole. You felt yourself begin to doze off to the soothing tones and his other hand rubbing soft circles on your upper arm.

It wasn't how the night had supposed to go but you were with him now and you felt protected. Knowing he came to your aid.

(with regards to the slap Yes I know this is a little unrealistic it lasting that long but I once got one that lasted a few hours ( I’m not being hit just to clarify it was a joke with some pals who one of them was telling me about a slap match to see how much he could take and the other we were with friend had really went for it and it was actually shockingly sore and my drunk ass went I can take it and he was reluctant at first and then went to go and did it before stating that was hadn’t been hard enough and went again even harder and it left quite a mark and we all laughed so ya. ) but just pretend if you don’t think it would )

#benny watts oneshot #benny watts x oc #benny watts fanfiction #benny watts imagine #benny #benny watts x reader #benny watts #queens gambit #thomas brodie sangster

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morganaspendragonss · 3 years ago

Text

just know that i will be with you

@911lonestarangstweek day 1 - c is for...crutches, cry, care

title from moon by jonah kagen

follow on to the meetings for those in my wake

ao3 | 1.5k | recovery, hurt tk, supportive carlos, brain damage

Carlos chews on his lip as he parks the Camaro outside the 126, glancing nervously over at TK. It’s been six months since the attack that almost took him away from them, three since TK was discharged from the hospital, and the first time either of them have been here during that time. Carlos had wanted to wait even longer, but TK had insisted, and it’s always been hard to refuse him anything.

It’s even harder now; coming within a hair’s breadth of losing him has only made Carlos more willing to give TK anything he needs. Even if that includes bringing him to the place his life had, metaphorically and almost literally, ended.

“I called ahead to tell your dad that we were coming,” he says softly, keeping his tone low so as not to startle TK. “He says the team are looking forward to seeing you.”

TK smiles at that, a little lopsided, breaking his gaze from the window to look at Carlos. It’s clear how excited he is; though the team have been visiting frequently both while TK was still in hospital and since he was discharged, Carlos knows TK has missed being at work and hanging with them at the station. It’s been an adjustment for sure, and it was hard for TK to accept that he’d never be able to return to his old job again. They’d had many a conversation about it, most of them ending with TK getting angry, then breaking down in tears in Carlos’s arms, his emotions harder to control since the incident.

Hopefully, when TK’s more independent, he’ll be able to find something to do, but for now he’s mostly stuck at home, and it’s been wearing on them both. Carlos is glad to get out, even if this is the last place he wants to bring TK.

“You ready?” he asks, smiling as TK nods enthusiastically. He quickly jogs out of the car and runs to the other side before TK gets any ideas about trying to get out himself—yet another ‘conversation’ they’ve had too many times—and grabs TK’s crutches from the back seat. If Carlos had his way, TK would still be using the wheelchair regularly, but on some things, it’s better to admit defeat than to push.

That doesn’t stop him from packing it in the trunk at all times, just in case.

TK scowls at the crutches but accepts them without complaint, slowly levering himself upright with Carlos’s help. He’s getting better at walking now, and Carlos can’t help but smile with pride as he remembers how hard TK has worked to get where they are.

It’s been a long, long road, and sometimes it’s felt never-ending. But seeing TK’s progress these past months, how much better he is compared to those first few days when there was still the fear that his body could give out at any moment… Well, Carlos considers it nothing short of a miracle.

Both the ambulance and the firetruck are parked in the bay when they enter the station and it doesn’t take too long for them to locate the team, all gathered around the kitchen counter. The new paramedic, Lukas, is there too—and this is one of the parts that Carlos had been worried about.

In truth, Lukas has been with the 126 for months, ever since it became clear that TK wouldn’t be able to come back even if he did pull through. He’s a good guy and fits in well, but he’s also TK’s replacement, so this meeting could go either way.

The team call out greetings as they approach and Lukas stands up, a wide grin on his lips. “TK, right?” he says, holding a hand out. “I’ve heard loads about you—man, I’m so sorry for what happened, really. It sucks.”

Carlos winces at the mention of the incident and watches TK carefully for his reaction. He stares in confusion at Lukas’s hand for a long moment before his brain seems to work out what he’s supposed to do. He takes his left hand out of the crutch, Carlos taking it and steadying him as he does so, and slowly shakes Lukas’s, eyeing him warily.

“H-Hi,” TK says eventually, Lukas’s good mood apparently infectious as he starts to smile. Carlos sighs in relief, then helps TK over to the counter and into a chair, fussing more than is probably necessary to make sure he’s comfortable. “Carlos, I’m fff-fine,” TK protests, though he’s grown more than used to Carlos’s protective behaviour by now.

Carlos just leans up to kiss TK’s forehead. “I know,” he whispers, stroking his cheek before sliding into the chair next to him. “I know you are.”

He’s pleasantly surprised by how smoothly things go from there. After all this time, the team are more than used to TK’s condition and Lukas learns quickly, adjusting his tone and mannerisms when he notices TK flinching at the louder noises and sudden movements. Seeing TK’s smile and his obvious happiness at being around the crew allows Carlos to relax too, and he finds himself pulled into a conversation with Paul and Marjan on the merits of chunky vs. smooth peanut butter.

Of course, things can never be simple for them. Carlos is about to suggest they get going—he’s noticed TK starting to flag, though he’s been making a valiant effort for the team’s sake—when the alarm starts blaring through the station and the crew jump into action.

It’s a scene TK has known his entire life, but the blows to the head he’d taken during the attack left him more sensitive to certain things, unable to process them as quickly as he used to. Judging by the panic that floods his face and the way he claps his hands to his ears, this is clearly one of them.

TK’s shock has him scrambling to get off his chair and out of the firehouse, but his diminished coordination and the fact that his hands are otherwise occupied send him pitching forward instead. Carlos is off his own seat in an instant, catching TK and holding him close to his chest, rubbing soothing circles on his back.

Lukas catches his eyes as he runs past and he pauses for a moment, eyeing TK. “He okay?” he asks worriedly, and Carlos nods.

“It’ll pass.”

And it does; five minutes later, after the engines have pulled out and the noise has died down, TK starts pressing on Carlos’s chest, a sure sign that he needs space. Carlos steps back willingly, though not before making sure TK is steady on his feet. A bright flush colours his cheeks and he won’t meet Carlos’s eyes, and Carlos knows what he’s going to say before he even opens his mouth.

“I’m s-s—” TK frowns and breathes slowly, concentrating hard. Carlos stays silent, knowing that this is something TK needs to figure out himself. “I—”

He growls in frustration, his eyes welling with tears. For all the progress TK has made, his recovery hasn’t been linear, and after a scare like the alarm just now, it’s harder for him to connect his brain and his mouth. They’ve been trying to take this one step at a time, but it’s been hard for them both, and TK always feels like he’s failing whenever he struggles to get a word out or when his fingers fumble over an everyday task.

Carlos has tried to tell him that it’s okay, but his husband is so stubborn that sometimes it feels like a lost cause.

TK’s hands are clenched into fists so tight that his nails must be cutting into his palms, so Carlos steps forward and takes them in his own, telegraphing his movements clearly.

“Hey, hey,” he says softly, worming his fingers in between TK’s. “Don’t do that. You’ll get there, it’s okay.”

TK sniffs, still refusing to look at Carlos, and snatches one of his hands back to wipe roughly at his eyes. Too rough, but Carlos isn’t able to stop him before a bright red scratch appears under his left eye—whether it was deliberate or not, he can’t tell, but it doesn’t make much of a difference. Carlos catches his hand again and holds them tight, pulling TK into his side.

“Let’s go home, huh?” he says, knowing that more reassurances will likely lead to more resistance from TK.

Thankfully, TK nods, and he allows Carlos to support him as they walk out the station. He stares despondently out the window once he’s situated, but he looks over when Carlos gets in too, which feels like a win in itself.

“I’m sorry,” he says, voice clear, and Carlos can tell that the feat even makes TK a little happier.

“You don’t have to be sorry,” Carlos says, leaning over to kiss him. “I’m proud of you.”

And, if TK’s bright grin is any indication, Carlos knows that he’s proud of himself too.

#911lsangstweek #911 lone star #911 lone star fic #tarlos #tarlos fic #tk strand #carlos reyes #lone star #911ls #fanfiction #my fanfiction #writing #my writing #userbones #userjillian #tuserpaige #tuserjamie #reyeslonestartag

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firewins-the-fangxrl · 4 years ago

Text

Building Anew

Now that May The 4th Be With You Excange has revealed I’m crossposting my fic! so here’s some fluffy Grogu and Luke bonding! (also can be kinda dinluke if you want)

(link to the fic on ao3 in the notes cause tumblr sucks and will hide posts with links!)

---

In his efforts to rebuild the Jedi order Luke finds himself learning many new things, some were expected such as old Jedi teachings and methods of finding force sensitives, others things he had not expected, such as the favourite colours of his younger students.

"Wait Master Luke, lightsabers can be purple?" a tiny Twi’lek pipes up.

"Yes there's a multitude of different colours that lightsabers can take depending on the users connec-"

"Can they be rainbow? Rainbow is my favorite colour!" comes another voice.

"My favorite is yellow!" from a Nautolan boy.

The ensuing lesson turned into a session of sharing favourite colours. Which, if Luke is being honest, is surprisingly enjoyable.

Teaching turns out to be one of Luke's favourite parts of resurrecting the order. Each of his students is different and helping them find and control their connection to the force is rewarding. The kids are also interesting to talk to, they're happy to tell him, with the honesty and excitement that comes with childhood, about a variety of things from a cool bug they found to what sensing presences in the force feels like.

Luke learns a lot about each of his students, both mundane and not.

Grogu is probably one of the most interesting to communicate with. Luke learns a number of things about Grogu, firstly that the kid has had a long life.

A really long life.

The first time Luke really gets a sense of Grogu's age is a few weeks after he was first brought to the small temple that acted as the youngling teaching quarters. He and Grogu are meditating together when he's hit with a rush of unfamiliar memories.

Huge sprawling temples filled with the bustle of people going about their day. The sound of children playing and distant lightsaber practice. The sight of adults hurrying past, lightsabers strapped to their hips, some with padawans trailing behind trying to keep up.

It takes him a few seconds to piece together that the memories are of the old Jedi order at its height. He turns to observe the small green child, struck by the fact that the people from that memory are probably all long gone.

"You're a lot older than you look, aren't you?" he murmurs quietly.

The child doesn't move, still deep in meditation, so Luke returns to meditating as well. They settle back into peaceful and companionable silence.

The second thing he learns about Grogu is that he loves his dad. Though Luke only met him briefly he can see that they have a strong bond.

Grogu is also more than willing to share stories of his and his dad's adventures with Luke. Every memory Grogu shares is laden with warmth and adoration.

The adventures are also seemingly extremely dangerous, which is how Luke quickly learns fact number three.

Grogu's father is a stone cold badass. From risky rescues snatching Grogu from the clutch of Imperials to killing a fully grown krayt dragon (something he is honestly in awe of) the man seems to be an unstoppable force powered by protective instincts.

As the stories go on Luke starts to wonder if part of the reason Grogu's father is so unstoppable is because he never stops to think anything through.

Of course Luke isn't exactly one to judge since he's nowhere near the picture of restraint himself.

But still, for force sake the man let himself be swallowed whole by a krayt dragon!

Even Luke isn't quite that dumb… well for the part he's not.

Grogu, it seems, has inherited his father's lack of regard for consequences, as he's quite willing to attempt to eat anything without waiting for Luke to check if it's poisonous or not.

However Grogu's favourite foods by far are frogs and cookies. Luke isn't quite sure what those two things have in common but he does know that cookies must be protected from the green bean (especially if they belong to another student) and that most of the frogs on Draay 2 aren't poisonous.

Except for the tiny yellow ones.

Chasing down Grogu to remove frogs from his mouth to scan for edibility becomes a daily struggle.

This is when Luke first realizes that Grogu is a menace.

The child has more chaotic energy than should feasibly fit into such a small being. Most memorably in the lightsaber incident. The less said about that the better but Luke has certainly learnt his lesson about leaving his lightsaber in a place that small green toddlers can reach.

He's glad to still have his legs.

A fact that he has not been at all prepared to learn came during one of Grogu's father's visits. Which was that Din was apparently a king.

Din lands his ship at the small landing platform adjacent to the temple. Grogu is practically vibrating with excitement by the time the loading door opens and the man walks out, beskar armour glinting in the sunlight.

Unlike his previous visits he is flanked by two other Mandalorians, both wearing blue armour.

Din turns to one of the Mandalorians and says something, too low for Luke to overhear at this distance, and the two Mandalorians turn to go back inside the ship.

As Din walks closer, Grogu wriggles free from Luke's arms and runs to his father. Din drops down and scoops the excited child up into his arms. Luke can hear Grogu making excited squeaks as Din murmurs something to the child.

“Who are your friends?” Luke asks as Din walks closer.

“Royal guard.” is Din’s only response.

“Royal guard?”

“I’m technically the Mand’alor”

“Technically?”

“It’s… complicated. I don’t suppose you’d want a second laser sword?”

“Uh, no thank you” Luke says, noticing one of the blue clad guards glaring at him from the ship. Her helmet is off and he can see short red hair and a slightly terrifying expression that reminds him of Leia when some poor soul angers her.

“Yeah that’s probably for the best,” Din says wryly.

The rest of the visit is fairly normal, except for the bodyguards hovering over Din. Luke gets the distinct impression that the guards are more interested in ensuring that Din doesn’t make a run for it than protecting him from danger.

Something he learns after a while is that Grogu has nightmares.

Grogu is more than happy to share snippets of memories and stories about his life before the fall of the old order. However he avoids the topic of the fall itself. Luke doesn’t push Grogu to share anything he’s not comfortable with.

Luke is pretty sure that's what the nightmares are about since Grogu refuses to tell him anything about them.

He’s okay with that. He doesn’t need to know the specifics to comfort the small scared child that comes to him. Luke just holds Grogu and murmurs reassurances.

Sometimes, if it’s really bad they start a holo call to Din, he always answers no matter the time. They stay up late talking about whatever they can think about until Grogu has fallen asleep, comforted by the presence and voice of his father.

Once when Din is visiting Grogu, Luke wakes to a knock on his door in the middle of the night. He finds a very tired looking Mandalorian carrying Grogu.

“He had a nightmare?” Luke asks.

Din nods clearly suppressing a yawn.

“Come on in. I’ll make some caf.” Luke says, stepping aside.

They stay up talking long after Grogu has fallen asleep, Din tells Luke about the struggles of being a king and Luke shares some stories he’s collected from being a teacher.

He tells Din about the lightsaber incident. Din finds it funny and Luke would probably be more annoyed if the man’s laugh wasn’t so pleasant.

By the time Din leaves, the sun is just starting to crest over the horizon and Luke realizes that he has to go set up for his morning class.

He decides that there are much worse ways to spend the night than with Din and Grogu.

Grogu apparently agrees with him based on the number of crayon drawings he makes of the three of them after that.

Luke is pretty sure Din gets a few of them framed.

#the mandalorian #the mandolarian #the mandalorion fanfic #Luke Skywalker #din djarin #Grogu Djarin #grogu #baby yoda #dinluke #dinluke fic #if you want #Fic #fanfic #firewins writes

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juleswolverton-hyde · 4 years ago

Text

Not by the Moon | 07

Genre: Smut, Romance, Strangers to Lovers, Drama, Tragedy, Werewolf AU, Supernatural AU, Bookshop AU

Pairing: Bookshop keeper!/Werewolf!JB x Reader

Warnings: A philosophical slant, (heavy) angst, Werewolf!Jaebeom being absolute hubby material, Werewolf!Jaebeom being awkward and (a bit of a) pervert, domestic fluff, talk of medication, apparently werewolves don’t like to wear clothes (what is my canon...), talk of life and death, mention of blood, mild swearing

Summary: Every story has a purpose or goal it is dedicated to, their authors at times going to great lengths to see the project they once started to completion. Nevertheless, the things the writers swore on to see their latest art piece to completion are static.

Unchanging.

None of them swore by the Moon nor Love because they can solely genuinely swear on all that changes like themselves.

And yet, a wolf in love foolishly swore by the moon.

That is when Time truly started ticking.

Author’s Note: This chapter is from Jaebeom’s POV.

Well, here it is, earlier and much longer than originally planned. It’s also a lot more tragic and philosophical than I intended it to be, but then again, what else can you expect from a tragedian fascinated by the human condition even as it is translated into the realm of the magical?

I think I just thought of the modern literary movement I might belong to: magic realism.

It’s a crying shame the Decadent Movement isn’t active anymore, though, because that one truly feels like a good fit for me both as an author and an individual. Ah well, c’est la vie.

Previous Chapter / Next chapter

Masterlist

There is nothing better for a wolf than being with its mate.

Well, there is one thing.

Having them completely at your mercy as you’re inside them.

I still don’t understand what the plastic wrapping is good for, but Jinyoung was very insistent on using it while we drove to the airport. And Y/N seemed glad I had whatever it is, her scent even betraying a hint of relief. However, one day, I hope she’ll tell me not to use it.

No, that’s not right. There’s a word for the… whatever it is.

A condom.

That’s the word.

I hope she’ll tell me not to use a condom. It doesn’t matter whether I’m in season or not, although the chances she’ll pup are higher if I am. I want pups with her, a little pack of our own. I want it to be our toddler running around the park, chasing its sibling. Then again, will I remain human long enough to see them grow up?

Will I even remember their birth on the day they’re born?

Will I still be here?

Or remain without a family, a proud bloodline?

I slowly open my eyes, blinking a few times to get used to the sunlight bathing the room in a warm golden hue, swallow hard and force myself to calm down. There is no use in contemplating this now, not this early in the day nor in our time together. What counts is that I’m here now with Y/N in my arms and we’re in her apartment somewhere.

A faint whiff of brine seeps in through the air cleaner filter above the window overlooking the city. A gull flies by and lands on the roof of the building opposite ours.

Sea. Rusted metal. Right, the old harbour.

A high-pitched noise, a disquiet hum followed by a sigh, makes my ears perk up. I look down at the lady sleeping on my chest, curled up and fingers balled into small fists similar to a bunny’s paws. More importantly, however, she’s perfectly alright and was only unconsciously trying to get more comfortable.

A breathless chuckle rises in my throat at the display. Y/N’s adorable even when she’s fast asleep, her lips parted yet not enough to allow drooling.

I, on the other hand, am another story. I don’t do it often, but I must have been so tired last night I triggered the habit. The finger I swipe over the corners of my mouth comes away wet both times.

Oh no, I didn’t drool on her, did I? Would she mind, though, if I explained it’s a sign I’m comfortable with her?

It isn’t hard to guess the answer to the question. She would beat me over the head, likely with a shoe, and say I’m not allowed to bite her at all anymore. Not even in the future.

In a hurry to discover whether I made the fatal mistake, I check her messy hair but keeping my movements controlled to not wake her up. Fortunately, there are no locks sticking together nor a trail running down over the side of her face.

With a deep sigh, I slump further down into the bed again and kiss her crown. However, I don’t go back to sleep despite the comfort of the sheets. Instead, I lift the lady’s head and gently put her down on the pillow as I get up, carefully calculating every movement like I do when hunting to make sure she won’t wake up or notice my absence in her unconscious state.

The faint smell of burned iron comes from somewhere when I rearrange the sheets to bundle Y/N up. My mouth dries up, throat blocked by something I can’t swallow as a familiar stench disturbs the morning happiness. Former intentions abandoned, I claw through the sheets to try and discover where the rank odour comes from.

Did I hurt her? Is she bleeding? Why is she bleeding? Where is it? Where’s the blood?

As suspected, the frantic search wakes the pretty lady. Propped up on an elbow, eyes half-closed and brows furrowed, she turns to me. “Jae, what-’’ she yawns, “What’re you doing?”

Barely has she asked the question or I find what I’ve been looking for.

On her side of the bed, between her thighs, is a puddle of dried blood.

Where did it come from? Did I… Did I do this?

I grab her by the shoulders and pull her close to check her condition, turning her this way and that as each thought grows more troubled. “Are you okay?” There’s nothing to see on the bare skin of her upper body. “Are you hurt?”

Maybe the wound is somewhere lower, on her hip or leg. I didn’t bite her last night. Right? I didn’t hurt her. At least, I don’t think I did. No. Surely the wolf- I wouldn’t harm her. I had enough control to prevent that from happening. Yes, that’s the case.

But then, with a fading mind, how much can I trust myself?

“Jaebeom, I’m fine. What are you- ah.” Y/N notices the spot of dark crimson when I pull the sheets completely off the bed and toss them aside. She lets out an incomprehensibly careless chuckle, evidently oblivious to the gravity of the situation.

“What are you giggling about? Y/N, you’re bleeding!” I bark, lost.

A small paw cups my cheek, her thumb caressing the skin in an attempt to calm me down. “You took my virginity. It’s natural to bleed a little when that happens.”

“Are you still in pain?” Even though it’s natural, surely it’s not without repercussions. Otherwise, the stain wouldn’t be there.

“No, I’m not, silly. I’m okay.” She kisses the tip of my nose when I let out a whine, unhappy with the response. Withal, a curious tone in her voice overtakes my own displeasure. “Are you?”

Why do you say it like that?

She sounds weird, hinting at something I’m supposed to find as obvious as she. Yet, I have no clue about what it can be. So, I tilt my head and stare blankly at her, waiting for an explanation. “I’m fine.”

My choice of words makes her visibly flinch despite the effort to hide it. The sleepiness which glazed her eyes evaporated, leaving them devoid of the amusement at my failure as a human. The recognizable sour note of anxiety creeps back into her scent, setting off alarm bells in my mind. “I’m alright. No pain. Happy to be here. Happy to wake up next to you.”

I rub her arms in a poor attempt to make her calm down, have her scent return to its spring-like fruitiness. She is supposed to smell like fresh fruit still hanging from the trees, yet to ripen. Not like fallen fruit beginning to decay in the summer sun.

“Okay,” is all she says in response before she pulls away, the absence of the warmth of her palm sending a cold shiver throughout my body.

The world always seems a little colder without her.

“Want breakfast?” A low grumble pierces the silence following the question, giving me enough of a response. And a reason to get my head, no, that’s not the idiom. To get my thoughts ordered. Organized. To get my thoughts in order? To think about… stuff. Last night. This. Everything. “Never mind. I’m making you breakfast. You have to eat.”

I stand up and head for the bathroom to first get rid of the weird plastic wrapping she put on me last night. Having thrown it in the bin there after a bit of an awkward struggle removing it, I move to the kitchen. Nevertheless, I don’t start preparing food right away. Instead, I pick up the grey hoodie I gave her from the bag between the sofa and chair facing the kitchen. I remember how she held it up to her nose, breathed in and basked in the scent.

My scent.

A fragment of last night’s memory.

I remember we had sex and that she told me I’m her first, but afterwards things are blurry.

Smell. I said something about how nicely she smells. Not really an original compliment since I’ve said it a lot already, but I can’t help but focus on it.

And then…

Then…

Then instinct took over because I let it, thinking I’d remain in control even though I let go a little. After all, I’ve learned enough to know how to deal with the wolf inside thanks to the rehabilitation procedure Jinyoung put me through and supervised. Since then, there’s been a healthy balance between human and beast in my mind.

Or, rather, there was one.

I think.

Another boundary to watch out for. I have to keep myself in check. No more experimenting.

Because to do so is to forget.

And I want to remember.

I stop absent-mindedly thumbing the piece of clothing, drape it over the armrest of the sofa and head into the kitchen to make breakfast. Unfortunately, the fridge quickly brings my plan to a halt, empty except for a pack of soy milk and a tray of eggs. The groceries Jinyoung and I got were only enough for dinner last night and there are no leftovers.

To be fair, she did just come back from a trip abroad. But still, is there really nothing to work with?

I sigh in defeat and grab the plant-based milk to pour it over the apple and cinnamon granola I find in the cupboard above the sink. At least it’s food and drink in one meal.

From the drawer next to the oven, I grab two spoons which I put into the bowls, grab the hoodie from the couch and return to the bedroom.

Y/N sits with her back turned to me, but flips around a little too fast for my liking once she hears my paws approaching. “Jaebeom?”

The terrible mixture of barely suppressed horror and genuine concern in her gaze has translated into her voice, which is cold and calculating. The sour note of anxiety hasn’t faded from her scent, creating a stone to sink to the bottom of my stomach because there’s only one thing that can be a distressing factor this early in the day.

Me.

Withal, the reason why she’s scared puzzles me since I haven’t done anything out of the ordinary. I’ve simply been me since I woke up.

Human.

Although, that’s me now.

Last night, I don’t know who or what I was though it isn’t hard to guess.

The pretty lady traces the deep indentation in the headboard of the bed with her fingers bent to resemble a claw. “Did you do this?”

Did- Did I? No. I- I don’t know. I was less strict with myself last night and don’t remember much, but surely I wasn’t gone enough to do this.

I hope.

I think.

I’m not sure.

But the reality provides the necessary evidence to repute any kind of denial I can offer.

I set the bowls down on the nightstand and crawl back on the bed to sit next to her. Gently, I nudge her hand aside to mimic her action, my own fingers perfectly fitting into the large gash. “I don’t know.”

A surge of violence shoots throughout my body, triggering the nagging feeling of a forgotten memory strong enough to knock the air out the lungs and split my skull with flashes of a memory. Nevertheless, the fragments pass by too fast to make sense of them and the mere attempt to do so worsens the headache. I flinch and scramble backwards with a paw- a hand pressed to my head as if I can thus suppress the pain. Yet, I remain unable to look at anything but the damage.

“I don’t know,” I repeat, my voice hardly louder than a scared whisper.

“I felt your skin move beneath my fingers last night,” Y/N starts, catching my attention with the timid response suggestive of requiring more explanation.

Exactly what I don’t have since I can’t even explain it myself.

This shouldn’t be happening.

“I think I did, at least,” she adds doubtfully on a shivery breath. The sourness sweetens to doubt instead of anxiety. Nonetheless, it’s still worrying she’s ill… uncomfortable.

“Did I-“ I swallow hard, forcing out the words describing my worst nightmare. “Did I transform?”

“Transform?’’ She briefly turns her gaze from me to the indentation, lips parted in an attempt to articulate a thought that’s dismissed with a headshake the second thereafter. Her attention returns to me, her expression slackened. ‘’What are you- What… No, you didn’t, but you looked far away. Retreated further into your own world, more so than you normally are.”

“That’s good,” I mumble, nodding as I, too, briefly return my attention to the claw mark. “Was human. Good.”

Still, need to talk to the weird-smelling intruder. Doctor. Friend. Name, his name. Jinyoung. Jesus, man, get yourself together. Your name is Im Jaebeom. You’re a twenty-eight old werewolf that- no, who runs a bookshop called Paper Souls. Jinyoung is your friend, doctor and supervisor appointed to you by... by... some organization.

“Jaebeom,” the pretty lady puts her hand on my shoulder, features softened instead of frozen and marred by fear, “have you taken your medication yet?”

The natural fruity undertone seems forced to be stronger.

You should be scared. I might have- I made that claw mark. Why treat me like a human? I’m a wolf.

“Me- Med-“ The strange word barely registers until a spark of humanity recalls its definition. “Medication. Pills. No, I- I haven’t.”

“Let me grab a glass of water and get them.”

She ruffles my hair, jumps off the bed and rushes out of the room. I listen to her bare feet lightly treading the floor as she moves on the other side of the wall, hurried steps going from the hallway, where she rummages in my coat for the rattling bottle of pills, to the kitchen. There, she opens a cupboard to grab a glass. The loud clinking of glass alongside the sour undertone in her scent indicates she almost accidentally caused several to fall out and break on the tiles. Fortunately, judging by the deep sigh of relief, Y/N could prevent it from happening.

She turns on the tab, fills the glass with water, turns the tab off and walks back into the room.

“There you go,” she says, handing me the small brown bottle and water.

The mattress dips a bit when she sits down next to me with one of the bowls filled with cereal in her hands. After stirring the spoon around like she is trying to evade something, Y/N finally takes a first careful bite. Nevertheless, she starts eating properly after I kiss her temple, which is an apparently effective form of encouragement. I have to remember that.

Quietly seated in the golden sunlight, we have our first breakfast together. I don’t mind her watching me as I’m taking my medication, measuring out the amount Jinyoung told me to take. Or, rather, as much as the label notes I should. Immediately my gag reflex is triggered when I put them in my mouth, the taste of bitter metal extremer than before so it’s like licking one of the rusted over buoys drifting in the harbour.

He’s increased the nightshade and silver. Damn, I think even the worst coffee tastes better than this.

“That bad?”

“Yep.” I open and close my mouth, nauseous due to the sickening taste lingering on my tongue. To prevent the bile rising in my throat from escaping, I gulp down the water. Unfortunately, it only washes down part of the bitterness.

She holds up a spoon with milk-soaked granola to feed to me, but I turn it down and shake my head. I might actually throw up if I eat anything right now.

Disappointment flashes across her face, though it’s gone in an instant as she puts her bowl down and stands up. “Hold on, I’ll be right back.”

“But... food,” I meekly offer and point at the half-empty bowl on the nightstand. She should put herself before me.

Because I’ll be fine.

“We’re missing something important. Coffee,” the bunny-like lady playfully responds before she bounces off again to the kitchen.

The pleasant and slightly sweet scent of instant cappuccino warms the apartment, replacing the sharp scent of frozen water alluding to hail later on in the day. It’s a little early in the year, but soon the first snows will fall.

Hopefully, she’ll move before then so we can spend Christmas in her cottage. Although, it doesn’t even have to be the holidays. I’d light a fire, drape a blanket over our shoulders and keep Y/N close to warm her with mine as we read and look at the snowfall.

Like a snowflake falling faintly through the universe and faintly falling before our eyes, so we pass through life. At this rate, I think the next snowfall might be the last I’ll see.

Consciously.

Meaningfully.

Like a human.

The snowflake will faintly fall on the man I am, descend on the husk I’m becoming, while she will continue living.

Without me.

The living and the dead.

I smile wistfully until the same shot of pain treks through me as when I tried to fill in the gaps of the fragmented memory. Folded in on myself, cold sweat on my skin and short of breath, I press my palms against my snout to push the agony away.

The pained groaning must have alarmed the pretty lady because she rushes to my side and pushes one of the mugs in her little paws… hands in mine. “Here, take a sip. The caffeine will help.”

As told, I nip at the hot beverage. Indeed, the cappuccino lessens the headache and cold shivers that ran down my spine and threatened to spread. Though I dislike instant coffee, it actually tastes good when she prepares it. I sigh in relief, blow on the coffee to cool it down, and slowly drink it while Y/N caresses my jaw and ear just the way I like it. At the same time, she comforts me with her soothing voice, murmuring words of solace and assurance as she sits down next to me again.

I could listen to you all day. Maybe I should ask you to read to me sometime. Although, not maybe. I’ll ask it later. Note to self, write a note on your phone to ask her to read to you. Also, make note of kissing her temple.

My reverie is broken up by a comment which rubs me the wrong way. “I have to go to the office later today-’’

“Already? You just got home.”

“They’re counting on me, Jae. Besides, I’m not that jet-lagged.”

“It’s not healthy. You should stay home. Rest,” I bark. Her eyes widen, taken aback by my bluntness.

She opens and closes her mouth, planning to say something yet deciding against it. Instead, she tugs my ear. “I’ll be fine. And you have your shop to look after, so let’s both work hard today.”

“Still,” I take another sip, “I don’t think you should go.”

“As long as I have caffeine, I should be able to manage. How about this? I’ll come to your shop as soon as I’m done with work and cook for us. We’ll have a cosy night in like we had last night.”

“Last night was ‘cosy’ indeed,” I murmur, hoping she catches on to what I’m alluding to.

“It was. I really liked it.” Her lashes flutter with the memories of last night, cheeks tinged pink. Unfortunately, the heartstopping girlish giggle is short-lived and becomes serious too soon. “But while I did, I think we shouldn’t do it again so soon.”

“Agreed,” I respond, mind occupied by the ripples of transformation and the splashes of pain wanting to remember something significant only communicated in incomprehensible flashes.

Distorted.

Like the memories of the forest.

I need to call Jinyoung. He needs to know.

“What shall we eat tonight?”

The change in subject is welcome, but also a confusing bridge to cross. How can humans go from severe to casual without a care? The aspect of communication has me furrow my brows as I try to work out the mech… work… nuts and bolts behind it. Nevertheless, I answer the question. “I thought you had a plan already.”

The corners of her mouth curl up into a cat-like grin. “I have no idea, so that’s why I’m asking you. You’re a better chef than I am.”

“I’m not that good,” I murmur, my ears lowered like a shy pup. “But I’d like something we can make together.”

“Pancakes?”

“Yes!’’ I bark, leaning in and grabbing the sheets to contain the excitement at cooking together. ‘’Yes, I’d like that!”

A flicker of doubt passes over her face, hesitant in the way she tends to be when it concerns food. However, a second later, she taps me on the nose with a content hum. “Pancakes it is.”

While Y/N showers, I clean the dishes and pull the sheets off of the bed so she can bring them to the laundry. Although, maybe I could do it myself. I’d have to text Jinyoung for instructions since he always does mine, but even then it shouldn’t be too difficult. Humans do laundry all the time. It’s part of their routine and if they can do it, so can I.

I hope.

As I’m making the bed and contemplating the process to get at least the blood stain out of the fabric, my mate walks back into the room. Her wet hair is bundled up in a towel that’s smaller than the one wrapped around her body. The addition of the scents of cherry blossoms and matcha to the blend of summer fruits drives me dizzy as she moves to the wardrobe.

I know I shouldn’t, but I can’t help looking as the towel falls to the floor to reveal her naked body. An appreciative growl unconsciously rises from my throat, a surge of heat culminating between my legs.

Just one more time. I’ll keep myself in check. Behave. I’ll behave.

“Jaebeom,” cheeks flushed, Y/N glances over her shoulder, “don’t even think about it.”

“Sorry,” I mumble as I shuffle to her side to help her put on her bra by closing the clasps. When they click in place, I place a kiss between her shoulder blades, feeling her shiver against my lips. “I know what we agreed on.”

I wrap my arms around her waist and let my head rest on her shoulder. Eyes closed, I try to keep a clear mind as she scratches me behind the ear.

“It’s not necessarily... that.” Her voice is light, wanting to move past the concerns of last night with humour. “It’s rather the thought I wouldn’t get to leave for the office at all if we go back to bed.”

“You’re right.” I decide to play along, if only to give us both some peace of mind. So, I bury my nose in the side of her neck, nuzzling her and earning myself a bird-like giggle that spreads a nice fuzzy feeling inside. “I wouldn’t let you go. We’d read the day away with coffee.”

“Tea, in your case. Doctor’s orders. I don’t want you bouncing around the place. You’re my calm, well, sort of calm bookish wolf. Not a supercharged husky.”

It’s a lame joke, but nevertheless makes me laugh.

“What will you wear today?” I ask, glancing at the clothes on the hangers.

Here and there, there’s a colourful item in the collection. Withal, the majority of the items are mono… one-toned... black and white items to be switched up with a dark-shaded checkered blouse.

My attention drifts to the long white dress with lemons. The fabric is on the thin side, which makes it suitable for summer or a warm spring.

I’d love to see you in that dress, if only just once.

She pouts her lips. “I was thinking about grey high-waisted jeans with a black button-up shirt and ankle boots.”

“Wear my hoodie,” I whine, upset my… my girlfriend. That sounds nice. My girlfriend. It makes me upset that my girlfriend doesn’t plan on wearing one of the things I gave her. “You like the grey one, right?”

“I do, but-’’

“Then wear it.”

She sighs, shakes her head and turns around to look up at me. “There’s something like a dress code at the office.”

“Don’t care.” I nudge her nose with mine, bark lowered to a woof to persuade her to go with my choice. “You’ll look better. More pretty.”

“If you put a pair of boxers on, I’ll wear the hoodie. Deal?”

“But they’re uncomfortable. I only wore them because Jinyoung told me to.”

“Then I won’t wear the hoodie.” Little devilish will-o’-the-wisps light up her eyes as the corners of her mouth curl up into a taunting grin. “Shame. Now my colleagues won’t get to see I have a boyfriend.”

The tables have flipped since I’m apparently not the only one who’s good at using their charms.

Nevertheless, reluctant to start a fight over this, I let out a compromising chuff. “Okay, fine.”

Humans and their clothes. I like yours, but you’d look even better in mine. Still, I’m only doing this because I want every male at your office and in the city to know you’re mine.

No matter what size they are, clothing is a thing I absolutely haven’t missed. Notwithstanding, to please my mate, I wriggle myself back into the tight short trousers and the loose pants to wear over them. Y/N gives me a warning look when she sees me fumbling with my shirt, hopefully missing out on the obvious clue I secretly hope she’ll let me off easy.

Of course she doesn’t.

“Yes, Jae, also the shirt,” she chastises me like a mother disciplines a rebellious pup. “And the shoes. You don’t want other people to call the cops after seeing a naked man in the streets.” Unaware of the fact I can hear her perfectly even as she mutters under her breath, she adds. ‘’Or me to pick you up at the police station because of it.’’

Amused by the funny image the fantastical scenario creates in my mind, I relent. “Yes, ma’am.”

Once we’re both dressed, Y/N makes way for the bathroom to do her makeup. Ignoring my protests it’s unnecessary since there’s nothing to hide or improve to make me love her more, she closes the door behind her and locks it.

There goes the plan of dragging her out of there by the collar to have her scratch my jaw and ear again instead. A much better way to pass the time, if you ask me.

In the meanwhile, I return to the bedroom to take a picture of the damage with my phone and send it to Jinyoung.

Jaebeom: We need to talk.

Immediately, I get a response.

Jinyoung: Yes, we absolutely do. Everything OK?

Jaebeom: Yes, Y/N is fine. Alive. A little shaken, but so am I. Well, we’re more than a little shaken. Fuck, Jinyoung, I don’t know what happened.

Jinyoung: I’ll drop by later today. I have to give a lecture in a bit and have to see a new patient afterwards. He’s going through the reintegration program right now and needs a little extra help.

Jaebeom: Help with what? What is he?

Jinyoung: A wolf. Not a standard case.

Jaebeom: Anything I can help with?

Jinyoung: I think you need to focus on yourself right now. I’ll be at the shop around two.

Footsteps disturb the silence, going from the bathroom to the hallway.

That was quick. Are females always this fast with applying their face?

It’s a funny phrase, ‘applying my face’. Also, it’s the argument the pretty lady used as the final word on the matter. But she already has a face so there’s no need to apply a second like some Greek god.

“Hey, where do you think you’re going?” Ears perked, I glance around the corner into the living room and in Y/N’s direction.

“Work?” she answers sheepishly, looking back at me with her head slightly tilted to the side. In her hands is the black trench coat she was about to put on.

Fortunately, she’s kept her makeup natural with a golden brown eyeshadow, a bit of a black line to accentuate her eyes and something to enhance her lashes. It’s a natural look which some of the female customers could learn from with their fake lips or chest that makes them reek of silicone and plastic. Their makeup, often overemphasizing their fake features, doesn’t add to their supposed charm. In fact, it makes me turn my snout away even faster if their attitude already hasn’t.

I’d never offer them coffee or want them around more than once.

But not her.

Not Y/N.

I can’t remember if she wore the same makeup when we met, but I vaguely recall a sense of calm and need for protection alongside a strange recognition. A connection that would make all the puzzle pieces of my life fit together.

The missing last piece.

“Not so fast.” I swiftly move to her side to kiss her forehead. No way I’m letting her go without giving her at least one more.

“There,” I pet her head, griggling and sweeping my tail triumphantly, “now you’re free to go.”

“I wouldn’t have gone without telling you, you know?” She stands on the tip of her toes to peck me on the lips, slightly swaying side to side to keep her balance.

So I lean forward to make it easier for her and chuckle against her lips. “Have a good day at work, Y/N.”

“You too, Jae.”

And with that, she puts on her coat, grabs her bag and opens the front door. She lingers in the doorway, waving half-heartedly as a final word of goodbye.

I wave back, faking a smile to see her off without worry.

Being human again isn’t so bad.

However, the deadline is another story.

The shop is as tranquil as it is on any other day. The quietness of unread words hangs between the shelves, the only noise to disrupt the silence being the rustle of a page being turned. Seated by the window as per usual, listening to the hail in the dim light, I read the time away, but whereas it’s normally a form of amusement and pleasure, it now functions in part to forget this morning’s discovery.

I didn’t mean to pry, but I inspected Y/N’s bookshelves before I left her apartment. There was the usual assortment of classics, but also a lot of Asian fiction, a genre I haven’t delved into too much yet. So, of course with the intention of returning it, I took Colorless Tsukuru Tazaki and His Years of Pilgrimage by Haruki Murakami with me.

She must have read it recently because her fruity scent still lingers on the paper. The summer blend distracts me to the point that the movement of the hands of the clock pass unnoticed in the background.

Regardless of the appointed time, it’s half past two instead of two o’clock that Jinyoung comes in. In his one hand he holds a carrier with two paper cups, the sleeves on them decorated with the silhouette of a black wolf and the name of the café printed in vintage letters beneath the design, the letters spelling out Wolf’s. Judging by the scent, it’s tea the doctor has brought with him. Apple cinnamon for me, since that’s the only one I like, and rooibos for himself.

In his other hand, he holds his bag. One of the claps has either not been fastened before he left or came undone along the way. Whatever the reason, it’s clear he came here in a hurry.

“Sorry I’m late. Christian and I had a lot more to discuss than we thought.” Jinyoung stumbles inside, puts the tea and his bag on the counter, and turns around to lock the door and flip the sign so we can talk in private.

A hint of leather mixed with coffee and wood is mixed in with his own.

Male.

Threat.

Teeth gritted and jaw clenched, I make a mental note to myself to keep this scent away from Y/N. To keep this Christian away from her.

“Jaebeom,” the other male sighs. His tone holds a silent warning of being close to breaking some kind of boundary.

“What?” The answer rolls off the tongue as a growl rather than an actual question. Not that it matters since he must have had a lot worse to endure from me. Besides, it’s not him I’m pissed at so he’s safe.

Although, the wild undertone in his already peculiar personal blend alludes to the opposite.

Has he always smelled like this or is this new? He is human, but then why does my instinct tell me to watch out for him, that there’s more than to him? Strange.

“He’s no competition. I think he might have imprinted with my colleague, although neither he nor she might be aware of it.” He rolls his eyes. “The gods know whether Gráinne will do anything with it. I wonder if... no, I don’t think either of them told her anything.”

A grim wistfulness stains his voice, which ignites a curiosity about his colleague’s circumstances. Notwithstanding, that story will have to wait until another day and his willingness to tell me.

Still, I quickly fish my phone out of my pocket, open the notes app, and jot down a short reminder to ask about it at a later date.

“Anyway,” Jinyoung steps away from the door, hands me the cup with apple cinnamon tea, and gestures at the worn couch by the window overlooking the west side of the neighbourhood, “we’re here to talk about you. About the picture you sent.”

We move away from the counter to the sofa. A burst of hail spatters against the glass as we sit down.

I’m glad to have something to hold to conceal the shivers running through my body at the image of the claw mark mixed with the memory of what Y/N told me she felt. Or, rather, thought she felt although I’m certain she actually did feel the first ripples of transformation.

For a moment, we sit in silence as I mentally prepare myself for the conversation. Nipping on the tea with my shoulders curled over my chest, I try to reconstruct last night as best I can.

As much as my memory lets me.

To break the... something. There’s an idiom, no, a phrase? A saying.

I don’t know.

Not anymore.

To make it easier, likely noticing the struggle to say anything, Jinyoung speaks up. “There’s more than the photo. You’re leaving things out, things I need to know to help. What aren’t you telling me, Jaebeom?”

“Y/N-” I begin, my breath unsteady as I restart the sentence, “Y/N said she felt my skin move and if I try to remember last night, I can only recall fragments that give me a headache when I try to string them together. Which I can’t.”

He pales, frozen in place as the weird briny scent sours. “That shouldn’t-’’

“Shouldn’t happen,” I finish the remark.

A horrifying idea arises that sets the hairs on the back of my neck on end and has me nervously tapping my thumbs together as I try not to squeeze the cup in my paws. Nonetheless, voice a low woof bordering on a melancholic whine, I tell the doctor what’s on my mind. “I think the pills stopped working. Completely. I- I don’t think-’’

The world stops, shrinks, and strings my chest as tight as a string as I shrink within myself. Each thought evaporates as fast as the flashes in the wolf’s memory, incoherent if meant to be sensible at all.

The snow hasn’t even come.

I can’t leave her alone.

I don’t want to leave this life.

I don’t want to go just when being human again starts to get good.

I don’t want to be the old me again.

“I think so too,” Jinyoung agrees grimly. “If I increase the silver and nightshade or the doses it will kill you.”

He tilts his head to the side, eyes sharp with focus as he poses the question I’ve been wondering about myself. “Does she know what you are?”

I shake my head. I might be her weirdo wolf guy, but she’d never believe me if I told her what I really am. Besides, werewolves are the stuff of fiction these days.

We’re no longer seen as a real threat nor have the power and status we used to have in the days of yore. We are devoid of an identity acknowledged by humans.

But, if I don’t possess an identity, am I really here?

Alive?

Or dead like the wolf inside?

Paradise is calling, the song of the forest playing like a red thread through my broken memory.

Beckoning me home.

The woods are calling.

And I must not go.

Jinyoung’s new question pulls me out of my reverie, just in time before the train of thought would crash and burn. “Are you going to tell her?”

“No.” I take a sip of the sweet tea, to have a second of bliss and enjoy a new human pleasure.

Another happiness I discovered a little too late.

“Will you at least tell her about your meds?” Even though she’s seen me take them, Y/N doesn’t know what they’re for. But, then again, did she look at the label?

Regardless of whether she did or not, she’s perhaps not truly ignorant to the reason I have to take them. After all, she thinks they combat my amnesia, which is partially true. It’s a half-truth.

But the real reason is a secret I intend to keep.

“No,” I repeat, determined in my answer regardless of the world spinning out of control. “I won’t tell her.”

“She deserves that much, doesn’t she? She’s your girlfriend, Jay.’’ Although his features have softened, the doctor’s voice rises to a fierce bark as he reinforces his point. ‘’Your mate.”

“I can’t tell her,’’ I retort, my bark closer to a growl than a civilized answer. Tears brim on the edge of my lashes, obscuring my vision in spite of my attempts to blink them away. The vision of Y/N by herself in the snow, on her knees in the middle of the orchard, blocks my throat and makes breathing harder than it already was.

The vision changes to the image of a spring day close to summer, warm enough for her to wear the dress with the lemons. She’s seated in the same position between the trees which are now white and pink with blossom. However, whereas her belly was flat before, it’s now swollen, pregnant with pups.

My pups?

No, I have to stay here.

I have to survive the winter.

I have to be here if I ever change my mind and want to start a pack with her.

I must be here.

But the question is whether I actually can.

At this rate, I’m not sure.

I don’t know.

But I know enough to explain why I’m reluctant to tell my pretty lady anything. ‘’I can’t tell her, because the news will hurt her and I don’t want that. I don’t want to hurt her.”

Plus, what am I supposed to say? I’m a wolf that turned into a man and is slowly dying, going back to his old form in which it... he. Am human. In which he’ll be stuck until it- He! Am human! Until he dies?

“Y/N has to know about this, Jaebeom.’’ A hand on my shoulder makes me look up from the floor to the man next to me. ‘’How about I talk to her, tell her what you told me and discuss what our options are as well as a plan for the future?”

“You’re right.” I let out a mirthless griggle. “Fuck, I hate it when you are. But… But how will you… explain, uhm, explain… this- me! How will you explain me? What I am? For all she cares, werewolves are my- myth- fic-’’ I throw my head back, frustrated I can’t find the right word or properly speak.

Jinyoung gives me an encouraging squeeze, kindheartedly chuckling at my failure. “I know what you mean. Nobody comes into our world willingly or at least without a good reason. I think your... situation is enough of the latter for her to get involved too. She doesn’t have to join the branch, I’ll leave that up to her. But, if Y/N decides to believe me, or us for that matter, she’ll at least have a community to rely on when you, you know, you’re...”

“When I’m gone.’’ The hesitance to state the facts makes me grimace and my tone sharper than intended. ‘’We both know where this is heading so just say it.”

“Fine,’’ the doctor puts his hands up as if he’s at the risk of being shot ‘’when you’re gone.”

“What’ll happen to the shop?” I gesture around the paper paradise, changing the topic slightly. Books have been another treasure of humanity I will forever be grateful for, especially since I hopefully have created a legacy with them that’s worth keeping.

The doctor glances around, a somber expression on his face. “Either the university will keep it and maintain it as a potential workplace in the reintegration program or sell it off. I don’t know, real estate doesn’t fall within my jurisdiction.”

“Ah, I see.” I lower my head, gaze averted to the half-empty cup in my paws.

Funny how I once thought of making this a family business or to have at least my pup’s name on the spine of one of these books. If I ever had them, would they like to be a writer? Would Y/N tell them their absent father, I... I love... loved to read?

I force myself to forget the thought, swallow despite having a dry mouth, and shake my head. “Thank you. For wanting to tell her. She’ll come over tonight, so-’’

He holds up his hand to stop me. “I’ll text her so we can meet at a later date. She just returned from a business trip and had quite the evening with you. You two deserve a bit of rest.”

“But what if...”

It’s unlikely, but what if it happens again? What if I spin out of control tonight?

“Keep your temper in check and try to suppress your instinct,” Jinyoung answers matter-of-factly.

So, no sex.

Although the unspoken implication doesn’t come as a surprise, I can’t help but feel disappointed even though Y/N and I agreed on not doing it again so soon. Notwithstanding, it would be a lie to say I didn’t want to do it again this morning. But then there was the pool of blood and the amnesia that ruined our morning bliss.

All the same, flashes of what I do remember from last night replay in my mind.

They say once you’ve had a wolf, you never go back. Maybe because I won’t let you.

She looked beautiful, tears glistening in her eyes, equally as beautiful as her meek whimpers. She’s so small and fragile, easy to overpower.

To conquer.

“Your mind’s…. gutter again, isn’t it?” A groan sounds from somewhere on the side, distant like a faint echo

I was inside her.

In spite of the weird plastic, she felt nice.

Warm.

Wet.

I replay the image of her whimpering on the sheets as I looked down at her over and over. My hand on her cheek and Y/N keeping it in place. I should have used that second to dive down and worship her soft breasts more.

I could have bitten her there. Just a small bite on the side.

The snapping of a pair of fingers before my eyes interrupts the pleasant reverie. A bit offended, I snap around to growl at whoever took the pleasure of a cherished memory away.

Only to face Jinyoung, who sighs and looks down at the bulge in my pants before pursing his lips with an exasperated knowing expression as he looks up.

Scrambling to regain my composure and hardly remembering what he said, I answer as best I can. “No!”

“Then why are you drooling?”

#JB #Jaebeom #GOT7 #GOT7 smut #JB smut #GOT7 x Reader #Jaebeom x Reader #Jaebeom fanfiction #Jaebeom smut #GOT7 Werewolf AU #Werewolf AU #Werewolf!Jaebeom #Werewolf!JB

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love-takes-work · 4 years ago

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Steven Universe: End of an Era: Outline & Review

I wrote this review in October but never got around to posting it here

Steven Universe: End of an Era is far more than an art book–it’s also a collection of behind-the-scenes material, stories about the experience of working on the show, planning documents and associated background info, and both older versions of developed concepts AND concepts that never made it into the show. It's a huge fusion of all those elements, and it's definitely an experience!

Some low-quality images are included with my review just to give you an idea of what’s there--it’s not a good substitute for getting your own copy, but here’s a tour!

Like the previous concept art book, Art and Origins, I'll be giving you a description of the structure and overview, while also collecting notable information for fans. Obviously just about everything is "notable" once again, but I'll aim for unique insight or perspective on the main source material, keeping the screaming about everything new to a minimum so you can also enjoy something for yourself if you pick it up. My low-quality photos should prevent people from feeling like I'm reproducing the book in any capacity. Please grab one while you can and have your own experience!

[SU Book and Comic Reviews]

OVERVIEW

The book is titled "End of an Era" for a couple reasons--obviously because it is released after the show has wrapped, but also because Gem history recently ended its "Era 2" and began Era 3--an age of prosperity and peace. The author--the person in charge of adapting all of this information into this slick, readable package--is Chris McDonnell, whose work was previously applied on the Art and Origins book.

The foreword is by N.K. Jemisin, a well-known science fiction author who's a huge fan of the show (and wrote a really excellent series that also has a weird geological connection, by the way).

And the cover, like its predecessor, is shiny and decorated with a beach scene featuring minimalistic characters--this time it's the Gems at night in front of the Temple, and on the back cover is a big pink leg ship in a cross-legged pose.

The interior covers are decorated with tons of amazing sketches of Steven and Connie on the front, and a bunch of Gem sketches on the back. Every interior page that most would leave blank is highlighted with some kind of sketch art or character exercise--it's so much to look at, so much to absorb.

The book is dedicated "For Eddie."

Its organization is different from the previous book in that it shares applicable work in chunks associated with groups of episodes rather than pertaining to different aspects of building the show.

FOREWORD

N.K. Jemisin gives us such a great introduction to the book--apparently understanding very well that the audience of this book is full of animation enthusiasts and adult fans more than it is full of kids, and explaining that bewildering journey some adults had from blowing this show off as a silly kid thing to falling in love with it hard and fast.

The important thing, Jemisin says, is being able to trust a storyteller with your heart. And it was clear to her that Rebecca Sugar knew what she was talking about and was saying important things about identity and the radical power that comes with accepting it and demanding respect.

Important also is how we handle heroes and who gets to be one in fantasy. That's part of the reason Steven Universe speaks to so many--because we see ourselves here, and know stories can be about us. Acknowledging the power we all have to MAKE THINGS BETTER with what we fight for is so important--especially if we're going to speaking to the next generation about it.

Highlighting Rose Quartz as a "born leader" who failed and Steven as a relatable scamp who did what she couldn't, Jemisin asserts that we can save the world.

1. END OF AN ERA

We start with an appeal to the audience to think about identity and the formative parts of our childhood--and how different it is if who you are and who you become is restricted, mocked, erased, or Not Allowed. Most people, if not ALL people, can relate to this, but for those of us with a special relationship with Steven Universe because of queer identity, this hits hard.

But it doesn't have to be anything grand to be something we respect--this show's authenticity comes largely from how personal everything is, drawn from real-life experiences and incidental truths from each artist's perspective, leaning hard on childhood and formative experiences.

Rebecca Sugar offers some interview bits to discuss writing philosophy and why "writing female characters" was difficult for a nonbinary person who'd been socialized as a girl and a woman. Rebecca has spoken before about how frustrating it is that marketing for cartoons was SO gendered when she was growing up (and to some extent still is).

The Gems in the story are all "she/her," but on their planet they're defined by their work, not by emotion or relationships (unlike women in our society), so having them be socialized opposite to how she was and be able to claim those emotions through choice and NOT as just an expectation "as women" was revolutionary. Rebecca wants her show to tell all marginalized people that they don't deserve to be in the margins.

Weighing in on other aspects of the show were Ian Jones-Quartey, Joe Johnston, and Miki Brewster. Ian describes feeling like at first doing SU was a thrill ride that meant they'd finally get to do all the cool stuff, but it quickly became a responsibility that he took very seriously--the need to tell a good story now that he'd been given a megaphone.

Promotional art, planning documents, character sketches, and concept art from the lighthearted to the stone serious is included, along with some very cool (sort of famous) timeline charts that track major characters' developments. It's emphasized by Rebecca that the developmental materials ARE NOT CANON (and especially are not MORE canon) compared the final show.

There are concept sketches alongside final art for Aquamarine and Topaz in "Wanted" (with Topaz labeled "Imperial Topaz"), the Zircons in "The Trial," Blue and Yellow Diamond, and the Off Colors (including Pink Lars).

And there's also a spread of "the two sides of Steven's life: Gem Magic and Rock N Roll" featuring Sadie Killer and the Suspects (referred to as "Buck's band")--as well as a cool "Crew Cameos" key and some concepts for short-haired Connie.

And then there's some more "finished" art with stills alongside concepts, including some background art, revision, and really cool "fairytale" art from some of the shadowplay storytelling bits. We get "Lars of the Stars," "Jungle Moon," and "Can't Go Back."

2. THE BEGINNING OF THE END: A SINGLE PALE ROSE

In discussing the huge reveals and Gem mysteries in the show, the pacing is examined, and emphasis is put on the intended "slow burn." One of the most difficult things in the show was to strategize so that every piece that was needed to support another piece in the future was placed properly to seed what it was supposed to.

Some of the ideas they developed were more of a group effort and were fit together collaboratively (like Amethyst's being younger than the other Gems and Jasper being from Earth), while others were intended from the beginning based on Rebecca's vision (the fundamental idea of Pink Diamond's true identity, for instance, as well as Obsidian's design and sword and our Pearl not being Pink's first).

The writing process gets a great deep dive here, including fun tidbits like how the orb in the moon base was inserted by Joe Johnston and they literally had no idea what it was for when they wrote the episode. They repurposed it when they figured out what they needed.

Rebecca credits her detailed timelines for helping keep the order straight, and discusses how other artists are sometimes flabbergasted that a storyboard-driven show can have this much detail and continuity and yet not get wrecked by the free non-scripted boarding process. But Rebecca and the Crew valued that approach and loved the way fresh eyes would handle an idea, making it come back alive, entertaining, vivid.

Several Crew members weigh in on the writing process. Lauren Hecht refers to making lots of incorrect guesses despite being on the inside. Joe Johnston recalled getting briefed on his first day and getting so excited to start working on this massive project.

Miki Brewster remembered being told Rose Quartz is Pink Diamond and being shocked--and also confused about why Ruby and Sapphire would need to be married if they're already basically married. Drew Green talks about being brought in late and getting to watch unaired episodes and a rough of the movie while eating cereal.

Ian Jones-Quartey complains about Pink Diamond's real jester-like form being leaked to the internet through a Hot Topic shirt. Rebecca piggybacks on that and says it was upsetting that the wedding was leaked because of toy fair keychains featuring Ruby and Sapphire in wedding attire. They'd always be worried about leaks, and sometimes Rebecca struggled not to talk about the reality of Pink Diamond before the reveal because she knew it would make so much more sense once the truth was out. And everything associated with Rose makes more sense once you know she's Pink--especially what happened with Bismuth, considering what we know about how Pink Diamond has a habit of treating anyone who no longer serves her interests.

When it comes to visual cues, Rebecca also talks about intentional designs to create a feeling of unity between concepts, like the flower shapes on Pink Diamond's palanquin lining up with the poofs of Steven's hair and the star imagery of the series. Steven Sugar and Mary Nash discuss how the Human Zoo incorporated this imagery, trying to look like Homeworld with a Pink Diamond touch.

Steven Sugar, as a game nerd, liked to throw in video game references from old and modern stuff to feel like he's inserting what he's enjoying and who he is from moment to moment, while Mary Nash, who related to Sadie as a basement-dwelling young person with cult interests, liked to include stuff from MST3K and cult movies. Pearl's hand gestures get a spotlight too--her reflex to cover her mouth when Pink Diamond was being discussed was analyzed here.

A "Top Secret Visual Timeline" from 2016 is included which tells us some Diamond history. It has an earlier version of Pink Pearl's fate and does not include Spinel since the movie hadn't been greenlit. The timeline includes the birth of the Diamonds, the emergence and major story beats for each major character, and some philosophy of the driving force behind each.

We're told that Pink Diamond straightened up, behavior-wise, after she lost her first Pearl, and that Yellow and Blue wanted to give her a planet but White only agreed to it to prove she would fail at managing a colony. Pearl, meanwhile, is so confused to have a Diamond who keeps asking her what she thinks when she doesn't believe she should have opinions.

And when Pink moonlighted as Rose to start conflict, she found herself leading an army to fight Pink's troops--then Yellow's, and eventually Blue's too. Lapis is said to be waiting for the conflict to end on Earth so she can terraform, but she gets trapped instead.

Pearl's love story with Rose is described as "an endless honeymoon" where she's free to love her, while Rose's is more like "I'm now the head of the family and I'm going to give everyone what they never had, so everyone is super special!"

Jasper is described as "adopted" into Yellow's army as the only successful Beta Quartz. And White Diamond knew that Pink Diamond was not dead--she thought she was just running away from home like a brat and would eventually be back.

3. THE HEART OF THE CRYSTAL GEMS

Now we discuss Rose Quartz--the original Pink Diamond. How she was selfish and selfless, never enough and always too much, and how Greg was her first partner who "challenged her" to be an equal. Rebecca describes Rose as being delighted by the idea that both she and Greg reinvented themselves, but when that leads her to want to share her past, Greg isn't interested--he only wants to know who she is now, and doesn't consider the old her to be her.

Rebecca likes Carl Jung's concept of "enantiodromia," which is the idea that extremes lead to their extreme opposite. This is demonstrated in all of the Diamonds. This narrative is interspersed with drawings of Greg and Rose being cute.

But another "heart" of the Crystal Gems is its relationships--particularly, Garnet, the fairy tale romance embodied. More psychological theories are discussed with regard to differentiation in a relationship making the relationship stronger, and how they made sure that happened for Garnet during the appropriate arc. Rebecca has struggled with the idea that she, like Ruby, went straight from a "family" group to a living-with-others situation and never lived by herself. But she also learned that you can in fact develop as a person in the context of a relationship--you don't have to be alone to do it. Ruby learned that too, and chose on her own terms to be with Sapphire.

The wedding made so much sense to Rebecca and the crew that they couldn't imagine a wholesome couple like Ruby and Sapphire not having a wedding episode. They wanted it for years: The wedding concepts always included the tuxedo for Sapphire and the wedding dress for Ruby.

But pushback (often blamed on the conservative standards of the international market) led to negotiations trying to keep Ruby and Sapphire's relationship from being explicit. Rebecca and the Crew were very tired of this double standard, and they were especially irritated by attempts to claim a wedding wouldn't be well received by a core demographic or wouldn't make sense for Steven's character. But other shows had done weddings and Steven had been established to love weddings already.

Rebecca kept adding more elements to the wedding episode to answer all the concerns, but she didn't want to back down from explicit marriage between these characters. They deserved it. And the audience deserved to see this as wholesome, like any other cartoon wedding. Eventually they got their way and were allowed to have the wedding. But the ordered episodes were also coming to a close without promise of more, so Rebecca had to request more episodes to be able to wrap up the storyline!

And of course, there is Steven, the true heart of the team. A very interesting aside discusses Garnet's leadership and how the network pushed the Crewniverse to acknowledge Steven as the leader. This was successfully resisted throughout as well--because Garnet is the leader (unless she's incapacitated, of course). It's fantastic that this concept was preserved because too often a young male chosen one is elevated above people with more experience and knowledge because of that chosen one tradition, so it's really nice to have a show acknowledge that team leadership is more appropriate for an adult.

4. ERA 3

Beginning with a discussion of the Diamonds, this chapter deconstructs the dysfunctional "family" of the Diamonds (who are said to be based on tropes about evil stepmothers and stepsisters), with the thread of dysfunction originating with White Diamond.

Yellow is physical, Blue is emotional, White is judgmental, and Pink is impulsive. Some philosophy on why Pink is naturally manipulative and why she clashes so much with White is offered.

White believes her identity is to be imposed on all because she is the pinnacle of what should be--and therefore, she has the right to make decisions and statements about and on behalf of everyone. But her secret is that she can't do what the others do--act or feel or want. In trying to be everyone, she is no one.

And this becomes very important when she confronts Steven about his identity and turns out to be wrong. The triumph of Steven being totally, fully himself is a beautiful, simple revelation that's described as far more satisfying than the theories about Pink living inside him or Rose returning from his Gem.

Also discussed is Gem architecture. A lot went into this idea, and Steven Sugar weighs in to say he had to think of what it would mean for a world to have buildings but serve no human needs. That's why it's mostly focused on transport and storage. Even the broken planet is meant to indicate a place stripped for its resources, and everything serves a function that is meant to avoid looking like the human equivalents.

And there's another layer, too: a difference between Era 1 and Era 2. Era 2 became more functional to hide Era 1's broken bits, and older Homeworld buildings still have some "ornate and ancient" feel to them. And the fact that props, tools, and even walls and doors could be living was taken from a concept Rebecca thought was horrible from old Busby Berkeley movies, where people were inanimate objects and it was portrayed as lovely. Tom Herpich helped conceptualize these living objects.

Steven dealing with "princess tropes" is discussed here too. The Pebbles (worked on with Pendleton Ward) were sort of his Cinderella's mice, and all the locked-in-a-tower, having supportive tiny friends help you, getting princess clothes made, attending a ball, having to mind your manners stuff was intentionally related to fairy tales.

The point of doing that (besides fun) was to easily invoke the feeling that Steven was being made to be someone he's not, and that he was being treated like THIS is who he really is when it isn't. White Diamond as the "evil stepmother" is discussed with regard to her detailed features and massive scale. They generally didn't put fingernails and eyelashes on characters (especially not to indicate that they were women or girls!), but they decided White would get all of these feminine markers for tradition's sake.

Rebecca also invokes several other references that were included and describes the princess tropes as "chipping away at his integrity" setting him up for the final challenge with White.

There is again tons of concept art: Homeworld architecture, Pebbles, Diamond diagrams, background Jades and Lemon Jade Fusion, Comby, Diamond extraction chambers, and White Diamond.

5. CHANGE YOUR MIND

Now we finally begin to discuss Steven's identity. The "Perfect Steven," discussed in several interviews before this book's release, was an idea back in 2013; the "ultimate Steven," beefed up and shonen-looking, was far from perfect because OUR Steven is perfect, while this alpha hero Steven idea (used in Steven Universe Future) didn't belong being idolized in such a show.

They thought about having Steven fall apart into organic half and Gem half early in the show (during "Giant Woman" after a successful fusion and unfusion, even!), but they didn't try the concept until the last episode. They didn't want the "Pink" Steven to be portrayed as "better" even though he would be more powerful, so they decided he isn't whole without his organic self and he's just as much of a shell as the organic half. They absolutely did not want any ending that required Rose to be inside him or waiting to come back. But the debates were fierce--what DOES it mean to have Rose's Gem?

Ian Jones-Quartey brings in an anecdote about his own family to emphasize some of the immigrant themes that inspired aspects of the show. He had a brother who reinvented himself elsewhere away from family without resolving issues, and all the ramifications of that were explored in the show through Rose Quartz. (He is careful to say he doesn't think his immigrant experience is like being from another planet!) But he did say you can hurt your old family even if they were toxic or didn't know the real you, and you can hurt your new family by hiding your past. The Pizza family of course was also a more direct reference to Ian's Ghanaian family.

In talking about the new Fusions from this episode, Sunstone is largely described by Miki, who also got to board the Sunstone section. Sunstone was described as a cool 1990s character and the evolution just continued into making them a fourth-wall-breaking PSA dispenser. Obsidian is also discussed, with their sword being an early concept. Steven Sugar said they totally knew it would be forged in action. Obsidian being similar to the Temple design is of course another very early detail.

The story of how James Baxter got involved with one of the final scenes (Organic Steven and Pink Steven fusing in front of White Diamond) was shared. His family was fans of the show and Rebecca Sugar took the time to drive to a birthday party for his daughter and give her a drawing. He then owed her a favor, and this was it.

Concept art is again included, this time with sample boards, promo images, a Diamond fight concept, costume design changes for the Gems, new Fusions, the so-called "Mega Diamond" ship conglomerate, some scenes from the White Diamond confrontation, Pink Steven, multiple pages of James Baxter animation, corrupted Gems and their healed selves, and photos from the "Change Your Mind" premiere and some awards. The show has won one design-related Emmy, a Peabody Award, and a GLAAD award.

6. STEVEN UNIVERSE FUTURE

The book doesn't cover the movie because it got its own book, but dives right into Future. Ian Jones-Quartey emphasizes that the movie and Future are separate and different from the original show, which ENDED. After all, after that, Steven has a neck!

Some new names are invoked now: new writers Kate Tsang, Jack Pendarvis, and Taneka Stotts. They were excited to have Steven make HIS OWN mistakes instead of trying to clean up someone else's! Now, instead of doing the usual shonen anime thing and having the final battle be a big physical rumble, Steven has to make peace with himself and take an active role in coping with what all the fighting has done to him and what effect it's had on who he is (and who he wants to be). There is no sudden "I love myself!" answer, either. It's always a process.

Drew Green and Maya Petersen, who came on board as storyboarders officially in Future, also weighed in on writing for a "mature" show, how to deal with Steven being a "moral compass" while being sort of unreliable, and what they learned as Crew that they didn't know as fans. Drew didn't know Garnet never asks questions. Jack didn't realize the show never deviated from Steven's point of view. Taneka was nervous but excited to collaborate. Kate was worried about how established the show was and what to do as a new writer to contribute appropriately.

Maya was on the old Crew but not as a storyboarder, so felt like some of the "old" ideas ended up not being appropriate for the "new" Future in an embarrassing way--and dreaded the idea of dealing with Steven's emotional problems when they were similar to stuff she'd been through. She also was personally behind the idea of Steven wanting to dump his problems by becoming Stevonnie, and got to work with Etienne Guignard on inventing the Pearl creation backstory with Volleyball.

There's some discussion of "depression hobbies," stress, and the show's pacing. And they say Etienne was entertaining at pitches. There's even some discussion of how Greg is taken off a bit of a pedestal because his terrible restrictive life in the suburbs sounded wholesome to Steven and Greg presented it negatively.

And then there is some information about how the Crew felt behind the scenes due to fan reactions and negative press. Ian discusses feeling offended when the Black characters are described as bad examples, as if their cartoonized but realistic-in-context features are automatically caricatures.

Rebecca Sugar felt beaten down by some of these narratives and began to access mental health services, inspiring some of the content of "Mindful Education." A long reflection from Rebecca discusses people's infighting about her show and what she had a responsibility to show or not show in the story. She learned a lot about bullying from Cartoon Network's anti-bullying program and learned that bullies thrive on whatever attention you give them--unless it is made clear to them by a peer group that no one is impressed by their cruel actions. Also, not all negative feedback is bullying. Constructive criticism is different. Self-awareness can help you avoid internalizing what bullies might do or say to you.

Segueing from the discussion of how people are affected by and connect with the show, we then discuss how they chose as a team what should be covered as the show came to a close. They didn't have time to do quite a few stories they wanted time for, like a Rhodonite story, a Lars side story, and Diamond "prehistory" and religion; all of it was put aside for the main arc with Steven.

They thought people would find those stories about Homeworld and Off Color history very interesting, but so much of the show had been about Steven's Gem adventures, so keeping him mostly on Earth seemed appropriate. The acknowledgment of his battle damage, of his trauma, was necessary and real, and helpful in an important way to the core audience.

Oh, and there was some stuff about a cheeseburger tree. Don't ask.

In discussing the "reverse escapism" of the original show (Gem aliens are intrigued by everyday human culture, and realism is necessary), Rebecca says her views have changed on escapism and gets why some people want a soothing feel-better show. She acknowledged also that her own escapist dreams-come-true fulfilled in the show didn't feel like escapism because they were givens to the majority of mainstream culture, but were never guaranteed to marginalized people.

Rebecca ties in her several-times-told story about "Love Like You" and how the middle bit was when she didn't feel she was worth looking up to, and the realizations she had to tie the beginning to the end. Feeling like someone will like you less if they know you more is terrible. So sometimes a show like this can be helpful in telling people that they belong when their fantasies are things like "I want to be loved" and "I want to know I exist."

In Future, Steven has to connect to who he is and love that person--and understand that person enough to finally feel that even if he's not fixing their problems or saving their world right this second, Steven deserves his family's love and support, and they WANT to give it to him.

There's a huge amount of supplemental material in this section so there's no way I could name it all. The charts for Future's timeline are pretty straightforward, though a few episodes like "A Very Special Episode," "Why So Blue," "In Dreams," and "Bismuth Casual" aren't specifically represented and a couple are in a different order ("Prickly Pair" was conceived as happening after "Fragments" and "Homeworld Bound").

Steven feeling like a monster, having intrusive thoughts, having not forgiven the Diamonds, and getting help/moving on--it's all there.

We have keys, color scripts, and boards for the new opening and some various backgrounds and storyboard art from episodes. Model sheets for Shep, Nice Lapis and Mean Lapis, Jasper, Steven Tag Gems, Pink Steven Powers, Monster Steven. New house concepts, Era 3 Homeworld concept art for the Diamond environments, and background art for the Reef.

New Connie and Greg designs. Concepts for Mega Pearl, the Rose Quartzes, Bluebird, and Morganite (who didn't get used). And there are some photos from recording and the conference room. There are even some extras from "Crossover Nexus," the crossover with OK K.O.!--including an unused cut scene that included Ruby and Sapphire fighting. The rest of the book is a bunch of adorable Crewniverse art--extras, blog drawings, promos, and gifts to each other.

NOTABLE

The first timeline chart in the book features a cool sketch of the original Off Colors, which at the time this planning document was drafted included unused Off Colors Flint and Chert.

We knew of their existence already because of an episode of the podcast, but these two unexpectedly appeared as incidental characters in the Steven Universe Future episode "Homeworld Bound," identified only in the credits. Sad to think that instead of banding with the Off Colors, these two were probably shattered for their crime (being Quartzes who don't want to fight) and that's why we see them being repaired in this episode. Later, there's some brainstorming for types of Off Colors and "a Ruby that wants to wear limb enhancers" is mentioned as well.

It looks like there was also originally more juice to the story of tracking down the events of the war culminating in Pink Diamond's assassination.

One of the timelines talks about Steven thinking it makes sense that Pearl can't talk about her involvement because she might have been a double agent, explaining why Rose Quartz always knew what Pink Diamond was doing. It seems like that bit was supposed to be included in Garnet's version of the story she believed in "Your Mother and Mine." Seems like they originally conceived Garnet's story to inspire the Off Colors to become pirates and freedom fighters, though in the show's canon this storytelling happened after Lars had already reinvented himself the way he did.

Sadie was also supposed to be sending letters to Lars via Steven, which is funny since the "Letters to Lars" episode is just a montage Steven letter. And of course it's specified that Steven was supposed to get Pink Diamond flashbacks by going to the Palace on Homeworld.

The second chart in the book makes references to Sadie's reinvention of herself as a parallel to Lars, Greg, and Pink Diamond all doing the same thing, and how positive it is to embrace such a thing--a version of yourself that YOU create.

I love that Yellow Diamond's arm ship arm-wrestling the Cluster was always part of the plan.

There's some more explicit direction to have Connie help Steven understand the Diamonds as "strict parents," and a lot more emphasis on everyone realizing Rose had been inspired by THEM rather than them all following her.

White Diamond is presented here as if she thinks of Pink Diamond as a "daughter" (whom she now understands she has "lost"). There are notes on how the Diamonds have a responsibility to their children and should attend to it before just continuing to make more.

One of the concept art images for the Off Colors features Rhodonite crouching by Padparadscha saying "Don't worry, I won't let them hurt you." It's very interesting because she DOES seem to protect Padparadscha in the show, but doesn't seem confident about it in her final version, even though it does seem like she'd be "programmed" to guard aristocratic Gems because of her Ruby and Pearl makeup. Cool.

A "Crew Cameos" spread was included, which is of great interest to some of us who loved seeing the Crew insert themselves into the show. Not every SU Crew person who's been represented in a crowd was there, but this crowd included Amish Kumar, Kat Morris, Amanda Winterstein, Angie Wang, Lamar Abrams, Emily Walus, Mary Nash, Joe Johnston, Christy Cohen, Danny Cragg, Hilary Florido, Danny Hynes, Matt Burnett, Ben Levin, Elle Michalka.

The official national flower of South Korea, Hibiscus syriacus, is the name of Pink Diamond's flower.

One of Steven Sugar's comments about the silhouette difference between humans and Gems points out that humans have ears. This seems to be pretty good confirmation that they are not supposed to have ears, despite that sometimes we'll see ears drawn on them in some frames.

Rose Quartz/Pink Diamond is characterized in this book as "self-hating" in a really interesting way, saying that because she believed she was not capable of compassion, she practically worshiped those who demonstrated that ability and thought they were so much better than her--which is described as "intoxicating" and resulted in others being drawn to her. How interesting is that!

Timelines reveal that early plans for Pink Diamond's first Pearl originally had her getting destroyed by Pink during a game, and then her destruction was rewritten as a punishment from the Diamonds after Pink Pearl defended Pink Diamond to the other Diamonds. They went back to the idea of her getting hurt by Pink for the final version, though the cracked face and control by White Diamond was not on the agenda until they started writing "Change Your Mind."

10.

The approximate ages of the major characters, based on emergence, are revealed on these timelines. It begins with a cracked-planet-looking graphic depicting four tiny Diamonds emerging at 20,000 years ago. Some suspicious "blacked out" redacting surrounds a long timeline tail that goes back before that, which may mean there are secrets they still don't want to reveal. But the dates go like this:

20,000 years ago: The Diamonds emerge.

11,000 years ago: Pearl is custom-made for Pink Diamond.

8,000 years ago: Sapphire emerges (on Homeworld).

6,000 years ago: Ruby emerges (on a colony).

5,750 years ago: Garnet is formed.

5,600 years ago: Lapis is poofed and put in the mirror.

5,200 years ago: Jasper emerges (on Earth).

5,050 years ago: The Cluster is planted.

5,000 years ago: Amethyst emerges (on Earth).

4,500 years ago: The Crystal Gems found Amethyst.

3,000 years ago: Peridot emerges (on Homeworld).

40 years ago: Pearl found Lapis's mirror at the Galaxy Warp.

And of course we know 14 years ago Steven is born!

11.

Originally the Diamonds were based on a quartet of themes: Love, Fear, Pride, and Sorrow. It got too complicated to keep and it was abandoned, with Pink's identification of "love" being described as "particularly outdated."

12.

Notes on a sketch say that Pearl was inspired to become bold and unashamed because Pink's questions drove her to have opinions, and it's said that Rose "fell in love" with her boldness.

13.

Rebecca tells the story of driving off a ridge and getting stuck in the desert, comparing this to Ruby's tumble during her Wild West adventure and using it as inspiration. She's told this story before but here it is in print. She also included the story about using the flowers from a friend's wedding to put in Ruby's hair.

14.

Rebecca describes having to "fight" notes she was given when it had to do with Ruby and Sapphire's relationship. One she describes as NOT fighting was for a signing card depicting Ruby and Sapphire dancing. It was called "too romantic" and she decided not to worry about it since it wasn't the actual show content.

She was also scolded over her book The Answer because the powers that be expected her to downplay that relationship. She always argued that queer youth deserved these things.

15.

Tom Herpich describes being inspired to name Blue Diamond's comb "Comby" because he was watching the news about Comey getting fired from the FBI. It's also a mineral-related term and I always assumed that reference was intentional, but maybe it's not and this is the only intended significance to Comby's name?

16.

Rainbow Quartz 2.0's design is not discussed, though the other two new Fusions from "Change Your Mind" (Sunstone and Obsidian) were. RQ2 has some sketches included, but no accompanying narrative in the text.

17.

A sheet of corrupted Gems and their healed selves is offered, though it doesn't appear to be final. The obelisk in "Serious Steven" is labeled Albite. The unnamed Worm Monster, Desert Glass, and Watermelon Tourmaline are included. An unnamed birdlike Gem represents the Big Bird monster from "Giant Woman." The crab monster from "Arcade Mania" is labeled Blue Chalcedony. The Tongue Monster is drawn uncorrupted but not named. The Flower Monster from "Back to the Kindergarten" is labeled Grossular Diopside or Titanite. The invisible monster from "Island Adventure" is labeled Moonstone. The Lighthouse Gem is labeled White Topaz. A form for Larimar that was used in "Change Your Mind" but changed in Future is there. The Slinker is listed as Chrysocolla. And the Crab Monster is listed as Aventurine.

On the next page, this is changed to Bixbite (as it was in Steven Universe Future), and we then also have Lace Amethyst, Blue Lace Agate, Crazy Lace Agate (Fusion), Ocean Jasper, the Mother Centipeetle Nephrite (Facet 413 Cabochon 12) and three other Nephrites, Angel Aura Quartz, a hooded Jasper, Zebra Jasper, Biggs Jasper, Watermelon Tourmaline (labeled as Fusion of Gem * Onion--huh?), Snowflake Obsidian, "Little" Larimar, and Orange Spodumene (who was the Worm).

18.

The Rhodonite side story would have been about the love story of a Ruby and a Pearl working for Morganite. Images of Morganite and her servants, unfused, are in the book. We do not get this additional information, but Rebecca said in a panel shortly before the book's release that Rhodonite's story would have been about finding out that she had been Rejuvenated 17 times because her components kept falling in love and needing to be reset.

19.

Referring to the Diamonds on one of the charts, Steven's perspective is "I can't believe I helped these" and then there's a censor bar. Welp.

20.

Some included art by Hilary Florido features Kevin with a souped-up Koala Princess car and another where Kevin is staring at himself in the mirror in front of an altar to himself.

21.

Rebecca's sweater collection is included in the Crew art.

[SU Book and Comic Reviews]

#steven universe #steven universe end of an era #su spoilers #long post #su merch #myblog

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yandere-daydreams · 4 years ago

Text

Title: Caged.

Word Count: 2.0k

Written for an anonymous commissioner.

Synopsis: Yaoyorozu’s always loved your wings. She takes care of them, grooms them, keeps snow-white feathers clean and undamaged and just perfect... You just wish she took care of the rest of you, too.

TW: Graphic Violence, Broken Bones, Kidnapping, Captivity, Dehumanization, and Delusional Mindsets.

She’d said it hadn’t been because of your wings.

That was all she said for the first few weeks of your captivity, really. Momo was many things, but she wasn’t subtle, nor did she make an effort to watch her tongue around the civilian chained down and (more often than not) unable to respond to her one-sided conversations. She said everything a kidnapper could have to say about their hostage. She claimed that she fell in love with your personality, that she’d spent months dutifully noting down your interests and your hobbies and every piece of information that could be gleaned from careful surveillance. She told you that your wings were just a bonus, that they didn’t really matter, but they just made her precious, darling songbird a little easier to find.

But, for every second she spent singing your praises, she spent two gritting her teeth or crossing her arms or making it clear that she’d love you more if you were obedient, if you were affectionate, if you were different. Your hobbies faded into the background, considering how few opportunities she gave you to indulge them, and unless she was bringing home a gift to make up for the night you’d spent trying to cry yourself to sleep, she didn’t seem to pay your interests any mind. But, she gave your wings the utmost attention, keeping your snowy-white feathers pristine and taking far too much time to prune and pluck anything she didn’t deem ‘befitting’ of you. She adored your wings, she loved your wings, and she never hesitated to tell you that.

As much as she claimed they weren’t her motivation, she cared for your wings. She couldn’t deny that.

That was more than she could say for the rest of you.

You supposed it wasn’t so bad, having her focus on one part of you so heavily, she tended to overlook most of your minor shows of rebellion. You were allowed to drag your knees into your chest and cling to the idea of safety as she looked over your wings, the appendages outstretched to their full length as Momo hummed and pulled at anything loose, anything bent, anything that wasn’t perfect. While she was perched on the edge of her bed, you were left to settle on the cold, barren floor and fight the chill your thin clothes did little to keep out. The basement - your bedroom, as she called it - was sizable, but the space was lost on you, considering how Momo chose to use it. After your last escape attempt, she’d declared furniture a ‘distraction’, something that took your attention away from her. You had a cot, just enough blankets to sleep, and whatever Momo thought was necessary for your basic survival. She’d said that you’d be able to earn things back, but that’d been weeks ago, and she seemed to like the way you were forced to look forward to her daily visits. She liked knowing she was the only thing on your mind.

She liked making sure her pet had nothing better to do than beg for her attention.

“What’d you get yourself into?” She asked, drawing you out of your thoughts. The question was more for her than for you, posed under her breath, and yet, you couldn’t help but feel like you had to answer when every other word was accompanied by another tug, another feather at her feet. “It’s worse than usual, today.”

A dozen excuses played on your tongue. Last month, you’d told her it was molting season, and you’d managed to quell her worries by saying that this kind of damage was normal for avians in new environments before that, a trick that worked for longer than either of you would like to admit. You doubted she’d forget so quickly, so you settled on something simple. “It’s just the stress,” You explained, the statement only half untrue. “It makes maintenance harder than it has to be, but it looks worse than it is.”

That earned a pause, a more careless jerk to one of your primary feathers. “You’re stressed?” Now, she was talking to you, expecting an answer. Paying attention to the way your hands twitched at your sides every time her fingertips brushed a tender spot of lean, thin muscle. A hint of something playful traced the edges of her tone as she continued, and you weren’t sure whether to relax or reinforce your barriers. “Don’t say it’s because of me, angel.”

A pet name. Pet names were good. Pet names meant she didn’t see you as human, right now, making you another one of her infallible, unblamable creatures. It didn’t mean you could be honest, but you wouldn’t have to lie, either, not really. Not as much as you’d have to, otherwise. “It just happens,” You admitted, giving a noncommittal shrug. “Animal-based quirks are complicated, like that. When I’m inside for too long, or… like, when the room I’m in is too small, my wings tend to notice before I can.” You allowed yourself a breathy laugh, loosening your hold on your legs. “When I moved into my first apartment, my roommate had to start complaining before I--”

“You think I’m not taking care of you.”

If her words hadn’t been enough to silence you, the feeling of her fist closing around a handful of something downy and sensitive did the trick. Reflexively, you went rigid, stretching your wings out to their full length and bowing your head, but Momo’s threats were never hollow. With one strong, steady pull, a patch of your left wing was on fire, bare and blazing and burning as you slapped your palm over your mouth and tried to stifle the shriek that threatened to escape. You kept it there, for a moment, attempting to suppress the tears building up in the corners of your eyes, but Momo took your silence as resistance, a low growl reverberating through her grit teeth as she took hold of the base of your wing, the length of exposed bone between skin and feather. She didn’t squeeze, didn’t shatter, but the idea of the pain was worse than the eventuality, forcing your breath to hitch in your throat, your whole body to go stiff. Forcing her to hold you tighter, her irritation more than apparent in the sternness of her grip alone.

"It’s such a shame,” She started, a patronizing lilt weighing down the simple sentiment. You couldn’t see her, not when you were abruptly incapable of even turning your head, but you didn’t have to. You could practically hear her shaking her head, her expression somewhere between a frown and a pout as she lamented over whatever mistake her poor, stubborn little captive made, this time. “I really do try to be patient with you. There’s such a nice nest waiting for you upstairs, but it feels like I can’t let you out of your cage without having to worry about my baby bird trying to fly away.” There was a click of her tongue, a tap of her manicured nails against your shoulder blade. You felt her eyes prying into your skin, flitting across all the places your wings rooted themselves in place, as if she’d be able to tear them out with her gaze alone. For a moment, you wondered if she could. “Maybe if you stopped trying to get yourself into so much trouble, you’d wouldn’t have to be locked up. You’d be able to accept all the wonderful things I have to give you, and I wouldn’t have to watch you throw your tantrums and pretend I wouldn’t do anything to make you happy.”

“That’s not what I meant,” You managed, curling your nails into your palm as you willed yourself not to raise your voice. Yelling at Momo was never a good idea, and playing dumb would only make her more determined to remind you of your offenses, even if you couldn’t name the incident she seemed so focused on, today. “Please, Yaoyorozu, please, I didn’t mean to--”

“This is why I have to be so strict with you,” She sighed, her free hand falling to the arch of your wing, spreading the appendage to its full span. No longer giving you the chance to refuse. “You’re so quick to lie, and so slow to regret it. You don’t even know what you did wrong.”

You flinched, your lips parting, but your mind going blank as soon as you processed the accusation. Your stupor couldn’t have lasted for more than a few seconds, but a few seconds were more than enough for Momo to come to a resolution.

It wasn’t that she was stronger than she looked. She was, technically, but it wasn’t just that, it couldn’t have been. She’d done her research, she’d prepared, she’d practice, and you could only be thankful her new skill had been refined, polished into an undeniable talent, albeit a grisly one. There was a minute of pressure - crushing, awful pressure - and a snap, and then the pain.

Always the pain.

It was a clean break, halfway between the base of your wind and the bend, shock provided little comfort, adrenaline flowing in-time with the throbbing, the tight ache now coursing through your left wing, joints loosening in their sockets and tendons contracting in an effort just to keep something so broken where it should be. Resistance wasn’t an option. It was an animalistic instinct that had nothing to do with your avian features, you were struggling before you could think to hold yourself back, willing your injured wing to fold against your back as you flailed, kicked, clawed, doing everything you could do to get away from the predator that was so content to watch you writhe in agony. Fighting was pointless, though. Momo didn’t try to restrain you, didn’t try to hold you back. Why would she? All the doors were locked, the windows nonexistent, and it wasn’t like you could actually hurt her.

There was nowhere for you to run, nothing for you to do.

In the end, there was nowhere to go but up.

It was difficult to get off the ground at the best of times, but you were desperate. As soon as you were on your feet, you were in the air, struggling to gain elevation without momentum, without an upward draft, without a single factor in your favor. It was hard, but it wasn’t impossible, even if every muscle in your back strained at the effort, your lungs burning and your uninjured wing taking up a frenzied speed just to get you a handful of meters off the floor. It must’ve looked pathetic, one wing struggling to keep you aloft and another, crooked and weak, twitching in an attempt to keep up with the pace its twin set, and it hurt so, so much, but you didn’t care. For a few seconds, Momo couldn’t reach you. For a few seconds, she couldn’t touch you and pull at your feathers and hurt you and…

And then, you hit the ceiling, and went plummeting back to the cold, unforgiving floor, as if you’d never left it at all.

Your shoulder took the brunt of your fall. It wasn’t far, but something in your arm still cracked as you collided with the solid cement, pulling a ragged sob from your chest that came out as broken as it was pitiful. You weren’t sure when you’d started crying, but suddenly, it was all you could do to curl into the tightest, smallest ball possible and hide your face, if only because you doubted you’d have the strength to wipe away the tears now blurring your vision. Momo didn’t seem to mind, though. She hadn’t taken a step since you’d gotten away from her, but that only meant she was still calm and collected and so, so composed as she kneeled at your side, barely nothing to brush your hair away from your face before her hands trailed back to your wings, always so eager to make sure her favorite parts of you weren’t more damaged than they had to be.

To make sure her favorite toy wasn’t beyond repair, after she’s had her fun.

“I hope you got some of your energy out,” She said, her tone sweet, but her voice devoid of all warmth. You’d say devoid of all love, too, but you were beginning to think Momo never had any to lose, in the first place. Not when it came to you.

“It’s going to take me hours to take care of all this damage. The least you could do is sit still, especially when I take such good care of you.”

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