#who knows what elis name is supposed to be translated as

[pigglepiephi]

They both live in houses with death stairs, so no wonder they have no regard for their emotional or mental wellbeing when it comes to relationships

This first episode was confusing but at least you can rely on the stability of seeing this old friend!

[ariesqueencobra]

what we used to be | lV

Pairing: Eli Moskowitz x Fem!Reader

Summary: Your first lessons at Cobra Kai are what you expected, though, what your boyfriend does was the last thing you thought you'd ever see.

Warnings: bullying, name calling, violence

Word Count: 2.1k

A/N: Hawk has arrived! Make sure that if you want to see more of this story to comment and reblog! Comments let me know what you like about the story and reblogs help others see the story! Thanks!

I don't consent to this work being copied, translated or reposted.

“C’mon you saw Miguel kicked ass,” Eli attempted to get Demetri on board with the whole karate thing.

“It’ll be fun,” you placed a reassuring hand on his shoulder before he had the chance to knock down any positive thought.

You stayed huddled together, your shoulder brushing with Eli’s every so often.

“Quiet!” a loud voice shouted and you all flinched, the dojo dying down. “Face front,” he scanned over the group before he began snaking through, taking a look at all of you. 

You felt a little self-conscious when he approached, your gaze trying not to meet his.

“Nice shirt,” he complimented Demetri and you were taken aback. “I’m joking. It sucks,” he was quick to take it back after Demetri thanked him.

He then went on, telling someone he had terrible teeth and calling another a virgin. 

“When I look around this dojo, I don’t see Cobra Kai material,” he began. “I see losers, I see nerds,” he added.

You glanced down, regretting you showed up. If he was just going to bully you like Yasmine and Moon, then what was the point?

“But in my short time as a sensei, I’ve also seen some miracles,” he looked over to his first two students; Aisha and Miguel. 

You smiled slightly at that, maybe you were too quick to judge just like he was.

“So maybe there’s some hope for you yet,” he did another scan. “But first I need to see where everybody is at, so fall in!” he ordered. 

You all glanced at each other, murmuring in confusion. 

“Line up!” he clarified.

Thinking he meant to lind up behind Aisha and Miguel, you followed the crowed. You stood between Eli and Demetri while you awaited the next orders.

“No lines,” he sighed out, running a hand over his face.

“You mean rows?” Demetri spoke up. 

You stifled a laugh. This was exactly what you expected when you decided to join Cobra Kai.

~

The next day at practice, you all managed to get into rows. 

You stood behind Miguel. Demetri and Eli stood next to you in the row. 

“Fighting positions,” Sensei barked.

You got into position, raising your fists and making sure your stance was proper. 

“Jab punch,” he said but didn’t order to go so you waited, though a few didn’t listen. “No, not until I say go,” he added for clarity. “Hiya,” he gave the all-clear.

You followed through with the motion, left fist then right, making sure you used the weight of your body to help. 

He went around, correcting students until he came to the front. “Hey, Lip,” he called out and immediately your blood rushed cold. “Yeah, you. The one with the freaky lip, who do you think I’m talking about?” 

Eli faltered, his gaze dropping. 

“Excuse me, Mr. Lawrence,” Demetri spoke up. 

You inhaled, not knowing if that was a good idea or a bad idea. As much as you wanted to stand up for Eli, your boyfriend for crying out loud, you also knew Sensei was kind of a bully. You didn’t know how to stand up to them yet…

“Sensei Lawrence,” Aisha corrected. 

“Okay,” Demetri chuckled. “You really shouldn’t make fun of someone’s physical appearance,” he explained.

You agreed wholeheartedly but that feeling in your stomach told you he should shut up.

“Is that so?” Sensei’s brows raised. “So I’m not supposed to mention his lip at all?” he pointed at Eli. 

His brows creased together, biting down when the entire class’s attention fell on him. 

“Well, yeah,” Demetri said point-blankly. 

“Maybe that’s what they teach you in school, but out in the real world, you can’t expect people to do what they’re supposed to do,” Sensei pointed. 

You felt inclined to agree but at the same time, you wanted him to stop making fun of Eli. There was no harm in being nice.

“You hear that lip?” Sensei called Eli’s attention again. “If you can’t handle someone making fun of you, how are you gonna handle an elbow to the teeth?” he asked.

Are those equivalent though? You asked yourself. You bit down on your lip, holding your hands behind you as you watched as a bystander.

“By calling the police,” Demetri suggested.

You glanced at Miguel as he told him to knock it off and you couldn’t help but agree. Still, you didn’t say anything. 

Speaking up will only make it worse.

“Why should I be scared of him? Because he’s got a snake on the wall?” Demetri gestured. “It’s not like he can give us a bad grade, we’re paying him,” he made a note to emphasize. “He can’t actually hurt us”.

The feeling in your gut grew, something bad definitely was going to happen.

You were right.

Sensei stayed quiet but stalked over to your best friend. 

“Are you done?” he came face to face with him. 

Demetri looked confused, the rest of the students circling around. You sent Eli a worried look, one he returned.

“Go on, hit me,” Sensei ordered. 

Demetri got into the stance and attempted to throw a punch but was easily blocked, the hit not even hard.

“Harder,” he said. 

Reluctantly, Demetri did again but failed. The third time, Sensei actually flipped him onto his back. 

Demetri huffed out in pain and most likely embarrassed.

“Let that be a lesson to all of you,” Sensei pointed a finger around. 

You averted your gaze, fidgeting on your feet. You weren’t sure whether or not to call that a close one.

~

“Do you still want to go?” you asked Eli as you sat in study hall.

You felt more at ease now, Kyler not messing with any of you now knowing Miguel would beat his ass if he got caught messing with his friends. 

“Yeah,” he set his pen down. “I think what Sensei says is a little true,” he shrugged. 

“Me too,” you agreed. “I’m not happy about what he did to Demetri though,” you shrugged.

“He quit, so I don’t think that’ll be a problem anymore,” he responded. 

You nodded, deciding maybe it was for the best. He had a bad experience, but it was clear you two wanted to learn self-defense. 

“What about you though? He calls you “Lip”,” you furrowed your brows. 

“I can take it,” he averted your gaze, voice softening. “I want to go back,” he reassured.

You pressed your lips together. 

It was an easy answer, you were going back.

The third time’s a charm, right?

Wrong.

“Okay, everybody, fall in,” Sensei walked out of his office.

You and Eli took your places. 

“Where is everyone?” Sensei glanced around the emptier dojo. 

You glanced over your shoulder as he named out the hurtful nicknames he called out. 

Gee, wonder why they left. 

Part of you was proud of Eli, even after the bullying he received, he had the desire to come back. That took guts and it only made you like him more. 

“They quit, Sensei,” Miguel answered.

“Are you serious?” he dropped his arms to his side. “I mean, good, that was a test,” he recovered. “I wanted to see who the quitters were. Not you guys, you’re in it to win it, right?” he attempted to encourage and you gave in, nodding slightly. 

He went on, saying how you could be doing other things but instead chose to learn how to fight. Which you figured was a good thing.

“Lip. Look. Even Lip’s tougher than those guys,” he pointed at Eli.

You sighed out. This could have been better. 

“Could you please not call me that?” Eli spoke up, which caught you by surprise but your pride grew even though you weren’t sure how this would go again. 

He repeated what he said after Sensei didn’t catch it but Miguel butted in, hoping to diverge the situation.

“No, Lip has something he wants to say,” Sensei brushed off. “Sorry, speak up, Lip. Or is your tongue messed up too?” He taunted.

You saw the way Eli’s demeanor changed but you were unsure how to help. But your eyes widened when Sensei made a comment that didn’t sit well with you.

“Um, the doctor said I could be on the spectrum,” Eli reluctantly responded. 

Your heart fell. He shouldn’t have had to explain himself. 

Sensei made an obscure suggestion for him to “get off it pronto” and then followed with him getting surgery to “fix” his lip.

“I was born with a cleft lip. This is the scar from the surgery,” Eli explained. 

Part of you wanted to go up and kiss him right there to prove to everyone he wasn’t a loser. But you couldn’t find any ounce of courage within you to do it. 

“You mean it looked worse before?” Sensei’s brows rose.

“Can we change the subject?” Eli’s eyes darted across the room, unsure of how to diffuse the conversation. 

“I want to but it’s right in front of me,” Sensei made the situation worse. “If you don’t want to just be a nerd with a scar on his lip, then you gotta flip the script, okay?” He told him, bringing up more suggestions of getting a tattoo or a patch. 

The more he spoke, the more Eli got nervous. Without another thought, he walked out of the dojo through the back.

You hesitated running after him, but you were honestly afraid to face the scrutiny of Sensei. 

You would check on him after class you told yourself. 

And you did. 

You rode your bike to his house first thing after class.

Knocking on the front door, you wrung your lip between your teeth as you waited in anticipation.

“Hi, Mrs. Moskowitz, is Eli here? He left his shoes and bag at the dojo,” you held up his items. “He also hasn’t been responding to my messages,” you pulled your sleeves over your hands after she took his belongings from you.

“Hi, hon,” she greeted. “He’s not really up for company at the moment, I’m sure once he feels better he’ll talk,” she pressed her lips in a reassuring smile. 

“Okay, thanks. Can you let him know I just hope he’s okay?” you asked.

“For sure, but can you tell me what happened? He won’t talk,” her face pinched in concern as she crossed her arms over her chest.

“The teacher is a little tougher than we thought,” you shrugged, not wanting to give too much away since you knew Eli’s mom would blow things out of proportion.

You also knew Eli would rather forget about this ever happening. 

“Thanks for stopping by,” his mom nodded before shutting the door.

~

He wasn’t at school the next day either. 

You stared at your phone, going through the unreceived messages before locking it and throwing it in your bag. 

A few minutes later, class started. 

You were lined up next to Miguel when Sensei walked out in front of you. 

“Three more absences,” Miguel sighed.

“A bunch of pussies,” Aisha mocked.

“No, it’s my fault,” Sensei admitted and you were shocked. “Since you joined, I’ve been hard on you. But Cobra Kai is about strength. If you’re not strong on the inside, you can’t be strong on the outside,”

He went on to say that he once used to be a loser until he shed his skin and became badass.

You nodded along, each word hitting. You knew he was right and maybe that’s why you decided to come back even though your friend and boyfriend decided to quit. 

You didn’t want to be a loser anymore that was an easy target for Yasmine or Moon. You wanted to be the badass who knew how to stand up for herself. 

You knew deep down this is what you needed to do to get to that point.

Just then someone entered.

Your eyes widened in shock, heart rate rising as you stared at the boy with the blue mohawk. 

He radiated such confidence that you gravitated towards him. When you glanced into his eyes, that’s when you realized who it was.

“Eli?” you furrowed your brows, staring at the boy you fell in love with in kindergarten who looked entirely different.

“I took your advice, and decided to flip the script,” he smirked.

The tone of his voice, his stance, his gaze—he was an entirely different person.

You were taken aback…in a good way. 

“Woah, you’re the kid with the lip?” Sensei Lawrence pointed at him. “You see, this is what I’m talking about,” he smiled as he pumped his fist. “Hawk,” he snapped his fingers. “Fall in”.

The name was fitting.

He stood next to Aisha.

Sensei scanned across the room before he opened his mouth, standing in front of Hawk.

“Fear does not exist in this dojo, does it?” he asked him.

“No, Sensei,” Hawk squared his shoulders. 

“Pain does not exist in this dojo, does it?” 

“No, Sensei,” Aisha shook her head.

“Defeat does not exist in this dojo, does it?” 

“No, Sensei,” Miguel affirmed.

With approval, Sensei turned around before he shouted, “Class, are you ready to learn the way of the fist?”

You all responded firmly.

“Yes, Sensei!”

[the-himawari]

A3! Outing Event Translation - You're my first and last love. (9/11)

*Please read disclaimer on blog; default name set as Izumi

---

Azami: Alright, next! Misumi-san!

Misumi: Hereee! I’m ready for my makeup!

Sakuya: Have you finished your makeup, Hisoka-san?

Hisoka: …Yeah.

Sakuya: Let’s head to the waiting area then. I think it’s about time for the other team to head back.

Hisoka: Got it.

Sakyo: Sakuma, Mikage. Don’t snag your costumes, got it? There’s not much space over here.

Sakuya: Right!

Sakyo: It’s way more hectic than I expected.

Izumi: There’s no way around it. We decided that 4 teams would take turns performing the play after all.

Sakyo: That’s true. In any case, we were able to prepare all these costumes in such a short time.

Izumi: The students and members who guest star often put their feelers out everywhere. Thanks to them, we were able to borrow costumes from university clubs. Plus, other troupes gave us costumes that they were going to get rid of. That really saved our skins.

Sakyo: Makin’ the costumes from scratch would’ve been too much of a burden on Rurikawa. Remakin’ them was the best choice.

Izumi: Exactly. We didn’t waste any money either!

Sakyo: Ha, now you’re talkin’. The costumes aside, the scripts were also well done. The previous team had a great show.

Izumi: They really did. But Tsuzuru-kun mentioned that—.

Masumi: Tsuzuru and I came up with the ideas together. I also brought him topics from the other teams and asked him to write the scripts.

Izumi: Yep, that’s what I heard. That was also a load off Tsuzuru-kun’s shoulders.

Sakyo: I see.

Masumi: Hey, Director.

Izumi: ! W-What is it…?

Masumi: Do you have anyone you like right now?

Izumi: Huh!?

Masumi: …

Izumi: Umm… I like all our troupe members… I guess?

Masumi: (So in other words, Director doesn’t have a significant other…) …Thank goodness. …

Sakyo: You got somethin’ you wanna say?

Masumi: …Hmph.

Sakyo: Ah?

Izumi: You two…

Masumi: Keep your eyes on my acting. Don’t look away for a second.

Izumi: For sure. I can’t wait to see what you’ve got.

Azami: —‘Kay, next. It’s Masumi-san’s turn. We’re short on time, so hurry up!

Masumi: …

Sakyo: Masumi, that guy. He’s actin’ cocky.

Izumi: Fufu, I can’t wait. I’m sure Masumi-kun will put on a great show.

Sakyo: …

Izumi: Of course I’m going looking forward to Sakyo-san and the others’ acting too. I have faith in all of you.

Sakyo: …You might not be able to take your eyes off me either.

Izumi: That’s exactly what I’m hoping for.

Sakyo: Geez… now you’re actin’ all cocky too. I’m headin’ over.

Izumi: Great, take care!

-pause-

Izumi: (The stage is a certain mansion.) (A few long-serving butlers resigned from their roles, so three apprentice butlers have come to take their place…)

Alfie [Masumi]: “*Pant, pant*… sorry I’m late.”

Connor [Sakuya]: “Don’t tell me you got lost again?”

Alfie [Masumi]: “Yeah… I think I took a left when I was supposed to go right.”

Connor [Sakuya]: “That’s rough. This mansion sure is huge…”

Jude [Azami]: “Don’t go so easy on him. If he was late, then even we as students know what the head butler would say.”

Alfie [Masumi]: “! Right, where’s the head butler now…”

Eli [Misumi]: “No need to worry. There’s someone else who’s getting yelled at before you.”

Apprentice butlers: “Huh?”

Logan [Sakyo]: “How many times do I have to go over this, Elise? “I’ve told you countless times that the butlers who work here are prohibited from having relationships, haven’t I?” “Despite that, you… at this rate, we won’t be able to call any maids over to assist us.”

Elise [Hisoka]: “Say what you want. After all, they say that love isn’t something you choose, but something that you fall into.” “You can’t stop someone from loving someone. That’s why having that rule is pointless. Let me be free.”

Logan [Sakyo]: “I'm telling you to refrain from doing things that will bring disgrace to our master.”

Izumi: (Love is forbidden in this mansion. However, perhaps because of his easy-going nature, the senior butler Elise has always been embroiled in love rumours.)

Jude [Azami]: “…Huh? What’s going on?”

Eli [Misumi]: “Ah, is this your first time seeing it? That’s what always goes down at the Sanchez manor. It sounds like Elise made a move on another maid again.”

Alfie [Masumi]: “Huh…”

Jude [Azami]: “I’m surprised he didn’t get fired.”

Eli [Misumi]: “Despite how it looks, he’s great at his job.”

Connor [Sakuya]: “There’s no reason to get so angry then.”

Eli [Misumi]: “I feel you. Well, it’s fine since his partner is always a maid or work buddy. It’d be a problem if it was the young mistress.”

Alfie [Masumi]: “!”

Jude [Azami]: “That wouldn’t just be a problem. It’d be a huge problem. I won’t forgive anyone who makes a move on the young mistress, even if they’re a friend.”

Connor [Sakuya]: “Ahaha. I think even Elise-senpai understands that much. Right, Alfie?”

Alfie [Masumi]: “R-Right…”

Logan [Sakyo]: “I thought finally everyone was here. But you’re just gossiping, huh?”

Apprentice butlers: “!”

Logan [Sakyo]: “You’re already 5 minutes behind. Hurry to your positions.” “Alfie, you press the newspapers. Jude and Connor, you set the table for breakfast. Eli, you prepare the tea.”

Apprentice butlers: "Right away!"

Eli [Misumi]: “Roger that.”

Logan [Sakyo]: “Eli, don’t use that sort of language in front of the young mistress.”

Eli [Misumi]: “Got it, got it.”

Logan [Sakyo]: “Say ‘got it” once.”

Eli [Misumi]: “Gooot it.”

---

previous | next

[wutheringmights]

Hey out of curiosity, I know most of the main cast in CTB is pulled from either Legend of Zelda game canons (Princess Zelda, Lana, Ganondorf in name, etc) or Linked Universe, but out of your original characters (especially Kat, Marigold, and the various Knights of Hyrule), did u give any of them symbolic or referential names?

Oh boy do I got the fun post for you:

Lincoln is straight up my Linksona. Just think of him as another version of the character Link

Marigold is supposed to be the typical red-headed love interest for a Link-like character; even her name is meant to fit right in with characters like Malon, Marin, and Midna.

Warriors's last name was originally going to be Warton, but I changed it to Walton when I learned that it meant "noble."

Meemaw is a reference to the Bertolt Brecht character Mother Courage (from his play Mother Courage and Her Children; I had just finished reading it for a seminar class when CTB first came to me). The characters even share a first name: Anna

Similarly, Kat is based off of Mother Courage's daughter, Kattrin; a famously silent-due-to-truama character

Kat's siblings also share names and fates with Mother Courage's sons: Eli is Eilif, and Cheddar is Swiss Cheese (yes, that's his real name)

Orlanda was named for Virginia Woolf's famous character Orlando; originally, I was going to have Orlanda be nonbinary, but changed my mind when I realized it wouldn't be a good idea to make your sacrificial character your nonbinary representation.

Shigeo's name was originally just going to be Shig, as a reference to Shigeru Miyamoto, but I changed it when I started to rewatch Mob Psycho 100. Shigeo is meant to be a homage to a common original character type I kept reading in Warriors-centric fics: the young Sheikah guy for Warriors to have a romance with. However, Shigeo was never envisioned with a romantic relationship in mind. He was always meant to be this cool, older guy type. However, I did almost have Warriors have a crush on him, then deleted that concept for space.

Gaudin was named after a French criminal for no reason. Genuinely, I just liked the name.

Anders was originally going to be named Betolt in honor of Brecht, but that felt heavy handed.

Jakucho is just meant to be the old woman version of the general Impa character to match the badass young woman version that is actually in Hyrule Warriors. Her name means "silent, lonely listening." I liked how it related to her role as Warriors's mentor/therapist.

Impa's real name, Chiyo, means "thousand generations, thousand worlds." I like how it related to the idea that she's always wanted to assume the same role as her ancestors.

I originally picked their surname Miyashita because the site I was on said it translated to something like "temple below the earth," which would reference the Kakariko Well. Checking now, it actually means "(one who lives) below the shrine," which makes way more sense in retrospect.

Ayane has no special name meaning, but her character... you do realize she's just Mask, right?

General Whitestone's name came from me asking myself what would a highly suspicious white guy in charge be called?

The name Nephus translates to "a God's son who will also become a God." Do I mean that literally? Who knows. At the very least, I wanted a snappy, but impressive-sounding name.

Vasileios means "royal or kingly". His middle name, Orionides, implies that he's the son of a great hunter.

Icarius's name is meant to be reminiscent to that of Icaurs, the famous mythological figure.

Philo means "lover or friend." A very cute name for a not-so-cute boy.

You probably have realized that the House of Nephus characters are heavily Greek/Roman coded. Originally, they were going to be Russian coded, but then the line about Faovaria being unable to attack some other kingdom due to their harsh winters would have fallen into question.

Faovaria's symbol being an octopus is a reference to how the octopuses symbolized immortality in ancient Greece.

Both of those were super off-topic. Sorry lol

I'll end with a fun fact you shouldn't look too deep into: the empire name Faovaria is derived from Farore. This was due to a concept I changed my mind about. Genuinely, it's not relevant anymore. Do not incorporate it into your theories, or something.

[asoulofatlantis]

Yesterday in chat they though its Ishmelga-Rean... but doesn't he look more like CS4 Curse-Rean? Now the question obviously is... why does he see that?

Wait guys! This wasn't just a small glimpse of CS4 Rean. He also sees the Barriere that is... still a spoiler, but trust me, he is not supposed to see that!

I can not make out what Crow saw first, but he certainly also sees this Barrier-Thingy. Hm... makes you wonder if this has something to do with the CS4 bad-ending.

Rion and Celis are calling Rean anonym and then ask him shadily to meet, without even telling him their names.

Oh be careful with your thoughts Celis. Grahlsritter or not I would not assume you are strong enough to beat the lineup you would be against if you dare to attack my Rean.

(Oh... I think that is not what she meant. Sorry Celis, I am a bit sensitive when it comes to my golden child XD)

*lol* Celis reputation is ruined forever XD

That is Class7 for you! We do the wrong thing in the way that it ends up being the right thing XD When Van does the wrong thing, it stays the wrong thing but it least he does it the right way XD

Rean had some odd flashbacks again... that can't be good. Give me poor boy a break!

Crow too? Oh this is bad! This is really, really bad.

Then that means all our screaming, crying, and breaking down was not for nothing. I would prefer that it was for nothing tho...

Don't make me go through this again! I am emotionally unstable today. I can not cry anymore.

I should not be glad to see you Shizuna. But you just saved me from them diving any further into this.

By the way... look at those graphics. How hot can this man be?

Oh... no... look who is with her. Oh this is bad. Really bad.

I really don't get that guy. I am almost certain at this point that he knows whats going to happen so why isn't he stopping it?

I am stuck in this scene for ages now because there is so much important stuff happening that I can just not skip it. Damn it. Inferno is Streaming again already. I will never finish this in time T.T

That fight between Rean and Shizuna was really nice. No real winner tho - of course not XD Anyway... it seems like we ran straight into a trap ^^'

M-Mint and Prince Sharid saved us. Fuck. I did not want to be in his debt... but I am grateful.

Okay... uh... seems like Shizuna and Rean treating each other with the utmost respect. Not much hostility hear. Surprising... but not unwelcome. I mean we seems to have enough problems as it is ^^'

I hope Olivert pays our debt to him ^^' I don't want to owe him a favor. I do not like this guy very much.

That is finally the end of Reans route. This is taking far too long guys.

As per usual most of Vans stuff can mostly be skipped. He always has a shitload of sidequests. Usually with sidecharacters that we have dealt with in the Kuo1 and Kuro2 but that doesn't make them any more interesting...

Lucrecia is having cake with Judiths mother O.o I am always surprised about her relatively nice nature. I mean if it would be just Ouroboros it would be one thing, but didn't Sharon describe the previous organization they were in as very heart- and emotionless?

I have no idea what we are doing right now but it looked like we worked together wie Elies father (ist a fucking shame she isn't here!) and ran into Joldas brother and he tried to get us in trouble but somehow we've got help as you can see.

I might have neglected to mention that in the meantime multiple "fake Genesis" have shown up. There was one in Reans route and if I and the translation gut it right its been like 20 years old.

Oh and Rene issued a warrant for Professor Hamilton who Kevin also seems to be after.

Van was giving Joldas brother a good talk but... it look like it didn't work.

Vans team seriously deserves a break. After running through endless amounts of sidemission they stumble from one dangerous situation into the next. Facing the mist impossible enemies on the way. I feel like Kondo was like: "They want their focus still on the ASO? Fine! But they will regret it! MUAHHAHA!" XD

Joldas brother hurt her... I feel sorry for the girl. All she wants is her Twin back. But he plays hard to get.

I am exhausted. It was the end of the first Day 3 Stream. I will take a short break and then be back. Uff...

[cosmicallyavg]

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#5

hello everyone and happy pride!! 🌈

this is a project i’ve been working on for a few months now and am so excited to finally share the completed version with everyone!!! i’m a sucker for pride flag sticker/etc. designs and i decided to create some of my own - they are subtle enough to be safe for anyone who maybe can’t normally buy pride stuff, but still recognizable within the community (hopefully lmao) 

then, of course i wanted to combine them all into one big piece that would still be subtle - i was inspired by those vintage butterfly species posters and wanted to recreate a version of that with my pride butterflies! the labels underneath each butterfly are short descriptions of what each flag represents, to also help keep things under the radar. super special thanks to @yourlocaltrylingual for helping me with the french translations <3333

all of the individual butterflies can be found on my redbubble, as well as the main poster! they all have nondescript names for safe ordering <;3 

i hope everyone is having, and continues to have a safe and happy pride month, i couldn’t have asked for a better community to be a part of!

❤️🧡💛💚💙💜

1,039 notes - Posted June 6, 2022

#4

has anyone else ever stopped to think how the tardis feels when doctors and companions leave because its ruining me rn

like imagine you're this sentient spaceship and you have an unbreakable bond with a time lord who stole you and ran away. and how sad it must be watching them die and be reborn over and over again. feeling them die and be reborn over and over again. oftentimes destroying your very being in the process. you've been together for thousands of years, possibly more, and you've gone on nearly every adventure together. 

they know you inside and out (literally) and while they are a quite careless owner, they make up for it with the constant repairs when you get damaged or need general maintenance. its how they show you they care, because you know they do. you have a telepathic connection with them, after all.

you take them wherever they need to go, even if its not where they want to go. its fun to show off every now and then and make it look like they don't know how to pilot you. but all of time and space, so many distress signals, you hear planets and ships and people calling out for help. your time lord isn't like the others, they like to help. you take them to those people so they can help.

and oh, the people. your time lord likes to pick up strays along the way - human beings more often than not. you don't particularly like the idea, the humans always have sad endings, and you don't like to see - to feel - your time lord experience that sadness over and over again. but they continue. how many has it been now? too many to count. but you keep count, you do. 

some of the humans you're more fond of than others. some of them your time lord is more fond of than the others. some of them grow on you, others don't, but all the same if your time lord cares about them, you care about them. you like when they say that you’re bigger on the inside, that part is fun.

perhaps you don’t mind the humans as much as you should, you're supposed to have multiple pilots anyway. if this is how you procure them, then so be it. unfortunately your time lord never cares to show any of them how. they would rather bumble around on their own and crash land into things than share that part of you to their human friends. hubris has always been their downfall.

there have been a few that have done it though, some more successfully than others. finally! you have another pilot!! you like these ones especially, they pilot you much more carefully than your time lord ever has, and they have established what little telepathic connection their tiny human brains can handle. not quite the same that you have with your time lord, but every little bit helps you feel more connected to those humans than the others.

it hurts more when those ones leave.

it hurts when all of them leave.

but your time lord continues on. drying up the tears and probably regenerating into a new face - again - but this new face loves you all the same. they pick up more strays. the strays leave. repeat endlessly.

you have too many bedrooms in storage, too many clothing preferences in the back of your wardrobes, too many favorite snacks left to expire in the cupboards, too many personal items and too many souvenirs from their travels hidden away, never to be picked up again. but you're infinite, you can keep going so long as your time lord keeps breathing. you can continue growing and changing, making room for every new human friend, altering yourself for every version of your time lord.

you hold all of these memories, all of these lives, just the same as your time lord. but they don't have to organize, sort, and carry the physical reminders of all of those lives like you do.

they can saunter off and forget it all, when its convenient. but you know they don't actually forget. neither of you can ever forget. 

and the weight isn't any less just because there's two of you to carry it.

1,114 notes - Posted November 5, 2022

#3

wait no in jodies dwm interview she says she was pregnant while filming tpotd and that it gave her a special insight into the character that no other doctor has had before because she actually had two hearts and im really not okay im So emotional

1,586 notes - Posted October 13, 2022

#2

alignment chart but it’s just the different ways people type out “tardis” when they write fic

2,434 notes - Posted August 18, 2022

My #1 post of 2022

the ending of thirteens era being "she is loved" and her literally saying that she loved being this version is so. good actually. this whole era was full of so much hatred for thirteen/jodie and having her last moments be full of love was so good. that the doctor accepted the love and had a happy regeneration for the first time in a while. it really felt like a nod to all of the people who stuck by her side during all of this and actually watched her era and appreciated it. a nod to people like us. and im so happy

2,654 notes - Posted October 24, 2022

Get your Tumblr 2022 Year in Review →

[clanoffetts]

A Verb in Perfect View

Movement, Chapter 1 - Thrawn x F!Reader

(gif by @rexsjaigeyes​ !!)

series summary: Mitth'raw'nuruodo is new to the Empire. And, as far as the Empire knows, new to just about everything else, too. When you’re put in place to help the new Lieutenant excel in the Imperial Academy so he may graduate in a few months, rather than years, you must navigate the Empire together, as well as other, more complicated things, too.

warnings: NSFW, 18+; swearing; (M) masturbation; canon typical violence; imperial cadet!reader; i don’t know how fighting works

word count: 3k

series masterlist

“Sir, you asked to see me,” you say, standing at attention as you enter Deenlark’s office.

“Yes, Cadet. At ease,” Deenlark says. You relax your stance, and realize who is in the office. Another cadet, and a Pantoran? “This is Cadet Vanto and Lieutenant Thrawn.”

“Lieutenant,” you greet with a nod. He turns his head towards you, and looks at you with glowing red eyes. Definitely not a Pantoran. “Cadet,” you greet the other man. 

“Cadet,” Deenlark says. “You are top of your class in your combat classes, yes?”

“Yes, sir,” you reply. 

“Good. You will give Lieutenant Thrawn lessons in place of your sparring classes. You will receive top marks, provided Lieutenant Thrawn gives you a good report.”

You fight the urge to sigh, to roll your eyes. “Of course, sir. When do you want me to start?”

“Tomorrow,” he says. “Provided that is good for you, Lieutenant?” There’s a hint of mockery in his tone, but he masks it fairly well. Not well enough, though. 

“Yes, sir, as you have already decided my schedule for my days at the academy,” Thrawn says. If it were anyone else, you’d assume he was taunting the commandant, but his tone is innocent. 

Commandant Deenlark cocks an eyebrow at the blue man, but just sighs. “You’re all dismissed.”

You leave first, the Lieutenant and Cadet following you. Once the door has closed and you’re a few yards from the office, Thrawn speaks. “I am sorry that Commandant Deenlark takes you from your classes to teach me.”

“I think this will be good for me,” you respond. “It fits my track. I’ll need practice in teaching.”

“I am glad I can be of use then,” Thrawn says as the three of you step into the elevator. “This is Cadet Vanto, my translator.”

“Eli,” Cadet Vanto says, holding out his hand to you. You shake it, telling him your name. “Good to meet you.”

“Cadet Vanto will accompany me to our lessons,” Thrawn says, and Eli sighs. “You are agitated, Cadet?”

“I don’t see why I have to come to your fighting lessons,” Eli says, and the elevator door opens on their floor. 

“What if I do not know a word, Cadet?” Thrawn starts, but by his next sentence the elevator doors have shut and you’re on your way to your own floor of the Imperial Academy. 

You open the door to your shared room, and Caiera, your roommate, is waiting with a box. “What’s that?” You ask, already starting to take your hair out of it’s tight military bun at the base of your neck. 

“It’s your 20th birthday,” she says. “You should be celebrating.”

“Not at the Imperial Academy,” you scold. “We’re not supposed to celebrate those things.”

“Well, we are, so here,” she holds out the box. Caiera did this with her own birthday a few months prior. 

You take the box and open it. Bobby pins. “Thanks,” you deadpan. 

“It’s not like I have money,” she says. “Besides, an oldie like you will need those when you graduate in a few months.” Caiera is 19, only a year younger. 

You smile at her. “Thank you, really,” you say, pulling her into a hug. 

After a shower and your dinner protein shake, you and Caiera lay in your beds. “Pantorans don’t have red eyes, right?”

“What?”

“Pantorans,” you say. “They don’t have red eyes, right?” 

“No,” Caiera says. “I would know. I dated one back home.”

“There are Pantorans on Onderon?”

“He was an exchange student,” she says. “He loved me. It’s a shame I didn’t love him.”

“And he didn’t have red eyes?”

“No,” she says. “Why are you so hung up on red-eyed Pantorans? Got a kink or something?”

You laugh. As if. “Deenlark called me into his office-“

“Ooooh, you’re in trouble,” she cuts you off. 

“No. But he wants me to train this new guy in hand to hand combat. He looks Pantoran but he’s got these bright red eyes.”

“Oh!” Caiera sits up in her bed. “I heard about him! He’s brand new, too.”

“How is he brand new? He’s a lieutenant.”

Caiera shrugs. “That’s just what I heard. Maybe he’s hot. Then it’d be fun.”

“Yeah, maybe,” you sigh, recalling what you could of Thrawn’s face. Maybe.

The next morning was busy, but your classes before lunch were easy. 

Caiera sat down at the table with your shakes. “I hate these blasted things,” she groans. 

The shakes taste of nothing, but they offer the same nutrients as a full meal, and then some. And they offer more efficiency. “Me too,” you reply. The both of you close your eyes and down the thick substance in a few gulps. 

“Off to train your Pantoran?” your roommate asks. 

“Or whatever he is,” you reply. “Should I start with the staffs? Or proper hand-to-hand?”

“Staff,” Caiera said. “It’s easier, is it not? And from what I’ve heard of the lieutenant, he’s not a good fighter at all.”

You laughed a little at her. “How do you know all this shit?”

“I have good ears,” she shrugs. A buzzer sounds, and their group’s lunch break is over. “Good luck with your Pantoran!” Caiera calls as she heads towards one of the doors. 

You shake your head, heading in the opposite direction. The cadets filed out in their black uniforms, a few officers among them. The long corridors leading to the elevators were bland silver and black, no trace of color in the whole academy. Except for the new Pantoran, it seems.

The combat training section of the Academy was bustling with young cadets still struggling with some of the courses and workouts being drilled into them. You smile to yourself slightly, remembering your first time in an Academy back on your homeworld before being transferred to Coruscant. Remembering your first (and second, third, fourth) times on the Academy training courses, and the shortness of breath and soreness that followed. 

You enter the separate training room set aside for you and Lieutenant Thrawn (and Cadet Vanto). You flick on the lights and get to work bringing the wooden, then the metal, then the electric charged staffs from the equipment racks. You probably won’t get to all of them, but just in case Lieutenant Thrawn made a miraculous breakthrough in his fighting technique.

A few moments later, Thrawn and Vanto entered the room, bickering about something. Or, more accurately, Vanto was bickering one-sidedly with the Lieutenant. Thrawn was calm. 

“Ah, Cadet,” Thrawn greets. Your smile doesn’t reach your eyes, he notices. “Are you ready for our lesson?” Thrawn speaks like he is the teacher. 

“Yes, Lieutenant,” you say. “Grab a wood staff and we’ll begin.”

Thrawn does, and you show him the proper way to hold it. You demonstrate the different holds, but you can tell he’s already comfortable with a wide hold. 

“Ok,” you say, holding your staff in front of you. “Try to strike me.” 

He just stands there. “I can explain it in Sy Bisti if you need, sir,” Vanto says from the corner. 

Thrawn holds up a hand. “No, Cadet,” he said. “I am just not sure how to initiate a strike.”

“Just use the stick to hit me,” you say. “I want to see if you have any instinctual skill.”

Thrawn tenses. “Alright,” he says, and lunges forward clumsily with his staff. The staffs crack together as you block Thrawn’s attempt at a strike. “Was that instinctual?”

“Yes,” you said. “But not good.” You’ll have your work cut out for you. But the more you think, the more you realize his lunge was almost perfect form. But the staff work was lazy. “Are you sure you’ve never done this before?” Thrawn detects the suspicion on your face, your furrowed brow and your tone remind him to be sloppier with his work.

“Quite sure, Cadet,” Thrawn replies. 

You spend the next thirty minutes running Thrawn through simple sequences to build up his confidence and strength with the staff. He improves quicker than anyone else you’ve ever seen, but you can’t bring yourself to care. The quicker he is proficient, the quicker you’re done teaching a Lieutenant. Your current track will place you at another academy, teaching the youngest cadets, not a grown man who seems to be lying about his record with fighting. 

“Ok, Lieutenant,” you start. “Now let's try something without a sequence, ok? Nothing too complicated, just utilize what you have learned so far.” 

“Alright,” Thrawn nods. His hair is disheveled now, and the nod brings a pitch black strand into his face. You notice the way his hand flexes as he pushes it back, combing his fingers through his hair. 

You make the first move, lunging towards him. He blocks you, and makes a move of his own, an advanced move, you notice. It knocks you off your feet, but you manage to bring the Lieutenant down with you, flipping him onto his back. Then, you stop. “Sorry, Lieutenant,” you breathe, looking at the man beneath you. “This is too advanced, I shouldn’t have done that.” 

“It is quite alright, Cadet,” he says, calmly. His hair is even more tousled now, laying against his forehead caught in his sweat. His chest is rising steadily but harshly while you straddle him. 

Thrawn notices the way your breathing speeds up, your facial temperature rises, and you stare into his eyes. Into those bright red eyes, they’re unsettling, but delishly intense. His whole being is arguably the most colorful thing you’ve seen inside this Academy. He’s beautiful. 

“Um, Lieutenant, sir,” Eli clears his throat, snapping you out of whatever trance Thrawn had put you in. “It’s quite warm in here, I am going to step out. I’ll be in the hall if you need me.” With that, he leaves you and Thrawn alone. 

You finally move off of Thrawn and stand. “Now, Thrawn, tell me the truth,” you tell him. “How much training do you actually have?”

Thrawn smiles slightly. “You are very astute, Cadet,” he says. “I was a higher up in the military on my home planet.”

“Pantora?” 

He chuckles. “No. Csilla. In the Unknown Regions,” he tells you. “I am Chiss, not Pantoran.” 

“You already know how you gave yourself away, don’t you?” 

“Yes, I do,” he nods. “It was...what did you call it? Instinct.” 

There’s something about the way he speaks, it’s melodic, poetic, even. Maybe Caiera was right. Maybe he is hot. That thought sends your mind to other places, your eyes wandering to his biceps and over his chest. 

Thrawn notices your eyes scanning over him, he notices the heat in your face rising yet again, and the slightest increase in your breathing. Rationally, he knows what it could mean. But, there are multiple explanations. 

“Then I guess this was our first and last lesson,” you tell him.

“If it is alright with you, Cadet, I would prefer if we continued,” he said. “Cadet Vanto says I need to not draw attention to myself. I believe that if we conclude our lessons after only one, Commandant Deenlark will suspect something.” 

“Cadet Vanto is right,” you agree. “Being an Unknown Regions alien in the Empire is hard. Someone with your skill? It would be harder. We’ll continue the lessons, but you’ll have to give me a good report. The best report Deenlark has ever read, actually.” 

“Then we have a deal,” Thrawn says, holding his hand out. You take it. His grip is strong, his forearms flex. Caiera was definitely right. 

“Then I’ll see you tomorrow, Lieutenant. You can go ahead and go.” 

“You are sure you do not want help cleaning up? Or at least one proper spar to make this worth your time?” 

You sigh. “Not today, Lieutenant. I wasted our time teaching you things you already knew.” 

“Indeed,” he replied, then turned on his heel to walk to the door. “We will see you tomorrow, Cadet,” Thrawn calls over his shoulder before leaving, the door slamming shut behind him. 

That evening, Thrawn and Eli are back in their room. “Why did you really step out of the room earlier?” Thrawn inquires. “Your body temperature was not that high.” 

Right. Infrared, Eli thinks. “Frankly? I thought you two were going to...you know, get it on.” 

“Get what on?” 

“You know,” Eli says. “Like, fuck.” 

“Fuck is a swear in Basic, correct? Are there other uses I am unaware of?”

“Obviously,” Eli mutters. “Fucking. Getting it on. Have sex.” 

“Oh,” Thrawn says. “We did not have sex.” 

Eli laughs. “I would hope not. You were only in there for a few more minutes after I left.” 

Thrawn leans back in his desk chair, pondering. “I do not think she wanted to have sex with me.” 

“No? What about you with her?” Eli says. Maybe the two of them could be friends. “Because it seemed very… tense in there.”

Thrawn nods, still pondering. “She is an attractive woman, I do have eyes, Cadet Vanto, even if they are different from yours.”

“So yes?” 

“I suppose. Her breath was unstable, and her face was hot, but I assumed it was from the workout. Though, I suppose it was not much of a workout for her,” Thrawn thinks aloud. “I doubt she finds me attractive. She said aliens in the Empire are not welcomed.” 

“Humans still fuck aliens,” Eli says, standing from his desk and walking to his bed. “Maybe she likes Pantorans.” 

“I am not Pantoran-”

“I know,” Eli cuts him off. “But if she’s into Pantorans, she’d be into you.” 

Thrawn follows him, standing from his own desk to situate in his own bed. “But I have never had sex with a human,” Thrawn says.

“Well I’m not teaching you how,” Eli said, turning his lamp off. “You have certain corners of the HoloNet for that.” 

“Perhaps you could point me to that corner? If I am to pursue Cadet-”

“Thrawn,” Eli says, stern. “I’m not showing you porn. And besides, she may not even like you. Go to sleep.” 

Thrawn tries, he does. But he cannot. He replays your lesson in his head, going over all of your body language. The way you looked and stared at him, the effect it had on your body, and the effect you are having on him right now. In the training room, he was focused on reading you and masking his own skill, but now, he is able to fully recall everything about you. And now his own breath quickens, he feels the heat rise to his own cheeks, and he feels the phantom weight of you on his hips as his cock starts to harden. 

Eli is already asleep, Thrawn observes, as he makes his way into their shared ‘fresher. He stands leaning against the cabinet, away from the mirror in the dim light of the ‘fresher, hard cock in hand. 

For some reason, it’s not necessarily your body that is in his mind. It’s all of you. The way you handled his attack out of nowhere, the way you observed enough that you knew he’d been faking it. And, of course, the meat of your thighs as they pressed into his sides as you straddled him, breathless above him, your eyes burning into his own while your body temperature rose. 

Thrawn’s fist is fast on his cock, he’s used to touching himself out of necessity and with efficiency, and tonight is no different, even if he has a muse. Thrawn comes with only a ragged exhale, spilling copious amounts of cum into his hand, dripping onto the floor, while his other hand grips the cheap faux granite of the ‘fresher’s counter. When he’s milked every last drop of his come from his cock, he brings himself into a meditation to calm his body, and push the thoughts of his muse from his mind. He doesn’t have the time to do this again tonight. It’s simply not efficient. He grabs his dirty towel from the hamper and wipes his cum from his hand, and then from the floor. When Thrawn bends to clean the tile, he realizes his body is sore for the first time in a long time. One of his favorite side effects of combat. 

When Thrawn returns to his bed, he takes the flimsi pad he’d requested from his bag, as well as a pencil, and puts his pain into a sketch. Or, he tries, too at least. He draws himself and tries to make the pain in his muscles into intense pops on the page. But it doesn’t work. Or maybe it does, but on the end of these wild nerve endings his pencil draws a woman. His instructor; the genius cadet; you. It’s you, the ends of your staff connects to the small explosions that represent the soreness in Thrawn’s body; he’s tried to capture you mid spin, with your staff in the air, like you are wielding some kind of wand. He doesn’t stop tweaking the lines that make your body until it is as close to the real thing as possible. 

Thrawn stares at the page in the dim light of his bunk. Your movement is captured as best as he could, but nowhere near as majestic as when he closes his eyes and replays your body as you show him staff spins and new sequences. He titles the work at the top of the page in Cheunh, ch'a vasni can taskavt veb. 

It’s simply not efficient to have one thing consume your mind like this. Thrawn knows that, but he cannot help it. He has done everything that worked in the past, he’s worked through his frustration, he’s meditated, and he’s drawn. But when he closes his eyes to finally sleep, there you are, staff in hand as you sit atop Thrawn’s middle, chest heaving, heated face, thighs  pressing into him. 

The feeling must be there in his dream as well, for when he wakes the next morning he’s aching again, and no meditation will rid him of his muse. And the lesson scheduled for 1300 tomorrow won’t help either.

[eli-kittim]

Was the Word “God” or “a god” in John 1.1?

By Bible Researcher Eli Kittim 🎓

John 1.1 (SBLGNT):

Ἐν ἀρχῇ ἦν ὁ λόγος, καὶ ὁ λόγος ἦν πρὸς

τὸν θεόν, καὶ θεὸς ἦν ὁ λόγος.

John 1.1, which is a throwback to Genesis 1.1, aims to define the primordial relationship of “the Word” (i.e. Christ) to God. But certain skeptics have challenged the idea that the fullness of the godhead was in Christ (Col. 2.9), who is said to be “the Word” (i.e. ὁ λόγος). Specifically, Jehovah's Witnesses have raised the argument of “a god” in John 1.1, implying that Christ is a lesser and inferior god that was created. Let’s explore that assertion. John 1.1 is traditionally broken up into three phrases that are separated by commas:

1st phrase: Ἐν ἀρχῇ ἦν ὁ λόγος,

2nd phrase: καὶ ὁ λόγος ἦν πρὸς

τὸν θεόν,

3rd phrase: καὶ θεὸς ἦν ὁ λόγος.

First, to suppose that John is talking about many gods, or more than one god, is a theological speculation and a grammatical imposition that is going beyond what is written in the text or what we know about the theology of the Gospel of John.

Second, John *did* mention the definite article τόν in the second phrase, and so he is not obligated to repeat it in the third phrase, as that would be redundant and tautological.

Third, another reason why the third phrase of John 1.1 doesn’t require the definite article (before the term θεός) is because it was already *used* in the second phrase, and therefore it necessarily *carries over.* For example, if I were to write, “I have a pretty good temper, and a very amiable disposition,” I would not be required to repeat the first part of the phrase. In other words, I wouldn’t be required grammatically to write “I have a pretty good temper, and [I have] a very amiable disposition.” The “I have” is *carried over* and doesn’t need to be repeated. It would be considered redundant. Similarly, in addressing τόν Θεόν with a definite article in the second phrase, John doesn’t have to repeat τόν Θεόν in the third phrase, since it is *carried over.* Here’s another example. I could write “God is one being, not two beings.” But that’s redundant. Now, if I were to rewrite the same sentence correctly and say “God is one being, not two,” would anyone argue that the term “two” may not necessarily refer to the concept of being because the word “being” is not mentioned? That’s the same kind of argument that skeptics are raising here in John 1.1.

Since John has already established (as a monotheist) that he’s talking about one (and-only-one) particular God (namely, τόν Θεόν) in the second phrase, then this syntactical construction must necessarily *carry over* into the third phrase. In other words, the term Θεός in the third phrase grammatically refers back to “the God” (τόν Θεόν) mentioned in the second phrase. Therefore, when John writes——… τὸν θεόν (second phrase), καὶ θεὸς ἦν ὁ λόγος (third phrase)——the “God” of the third phrase is a direct reference to “the God” of the second phrase. It’s obviously the same “God” in both phrases, not a different one. And given that God is one being, not two, which other god could John be possibly referring to?

In Greek, the third phrase in John 1.1 is actually read in two different ways, not only as “the Word was God,” but also as “God was the Word.” In the third phrase, there’s no ontological distinction between God and the Word——after all, they share one being: “I and the Father are one” (Jn 10.30)——because John already made the distinction (of persons) in the second phrase.

Thus, the “a god” argument of the Jehovah’s Witnesses——which is raised in “The New World Translation of the Holy Scriptures (NWT)——is totally bogus and unwarranted both grammatically and theologically!

[mewtonian-physics]

📌💎 and metal gear for the ask game?

📌 how did you find your hyperfixation?

i clicked a link in a post and discovered raiden existed... it was an experience

💎 are there any fun facts or trivia that you would like to share?

uh... everything...? okay okay just a few things... (i said this but ended up typing fifteen)

1. metal gear survive didn't have kojima involved at all as it was completely post-split. however someone put a secret message in that basically said fuck konami and the traitors who stayed on with them, kojima productions forever

2. phantom pain had so much content cut. rest in peace to the eli and mantis content we could have had. kingdom of the flies i think about you every day

3. you can buy ocelot and kaz sunglasses apparently. i think they're brand name

4. robin atkin downes (voice of kazuhira miller) is british but puts on a fake american accent. this is a parallel to liquid snake being british but putting on a fake american accent after killing kaz and stealing his identity. (not intentionally. but i thought it was funny.) 

5. you can date kaz in peace walker. this is not a joke. it is hilarious (and extremely awkward), but it is not a joke.

6. 'kojima is god' is an actual line from peace walker. thank you, kaz.

7. ocelot's funny little pose in mgs3 was just thrown in because his motion capture guy kept doing it. (this and the next piece are the only pieces of trivia i'm saying about mgs3. mgs3 trivia is sorely lacking in the 'fun facts' department. you know what i'm talking about.)

8. akio otsuka (big boss's voice actor) was HYPED over the idea of the entire game being voiced in russian. he took lessons. unfortunately that didn't turn out. (would've been pretty epic.)

9. kojima wanted to end the series so much by the time he got to mgs4. so very much. his original ending concept was snake and otacon turning themselves in to the authorities and being promptly executed as terrorists. everyone categorically refused.

10. big boss and snake in mgs4 are actually voiced by a real-life father and son in the original version. not only that, but the story goes that kojima set it up that way specifically to get the estranged pair to reconcile--and it worked!

11. in the original mgs2, solidus and snake were both voiced by akio otsuka. in the english translation, snake was still voiced by david hayter, while john cygan voiced solidus (very well, if you ask me.)

12. snake was originally supposed to take some of the spotlight from raiden in the ending. glad he didn't! the comic fucked that up enough, the game didn't need it too. (not sure if this was somehow caused due to 9/11 like the many other finale changes or not... mgs2 original ending, what were you like... aside from very mean to new york, that is.)

13. revengeance had so many dmc jokes made about it because it was released so shortly after the continuity reboot. there you are @froqgy, they can be besties... it was meant to be.

14. revengeance went through so many different concepts it's kind of insane. however the most important scrapped idea was raiden's flock of matrix cats. miss them every day.

15. there is a guy who's done some voice work for the series named scott dolph. there is a character in mgs2 named scott dolph. scott dolph does not voice scott dolph. kevin michael richardson voices scott dolph. i wonder if scott dolph was perturbed by this.

[gellavonhamster]

cold weapons

Suicide Squad (2016) || Captain Boomerang/Katana || post-canon

ao3 link eng || this was first written and published on ao3 in Russian in 2017 but I didn't attempt to translate it into English back then.  

“So, what do you think of them?” Colonel Flag asks.

Tatsu puts the folder containing the rap sheet of Waylon Jones, better known as Killer Croc, on top of three other folders.

“They’re complicated,” she replies after giving it some thought.

The materials in these folders could have formed her first impression about the members of Task Force X – or, as Lawton has aptly put it, the Suicide Squad. Could have, but did not, because they were given their first task earlier than expected. Which is why she doesn’t say “villains” or “scoundrels” or “worst team imaginable” – her first impression of them was formed in combat, and then in an empty bar in Midway City where they all drank together thinking it may be the last drink in their lives. She remembers all of this and says ‘complicated’.  

“Very tactful of you,” the colonel chuckles. Then again, what kind of colonel is he now – an unwashed shirt, black circles under the eyes. Just another guy struggling with a deluge of work, a hard-hearted boss, and a troubled relationship with his girlfriend. “But yeah, they definitely aren’t simple,” continues Rick Flag, one of her few friends in the country that will never become her home, and Tatsu cannot suppress a tired smile.  

“You like them.”

“They’re… tolerable,” Rick admits, and takes another sip of coffee. Lately he seems to be living only on coffee and whiskey and the verb “must” and (so Tatsu supposes, although they don’t talk about that) the hope that June Moone, who still hasn’t fully recovered from all the horrors she’s been through, will be all right – and will stop isolating herself and avoiding him. These means for not letting yourself just fall down and never get up are far from being reliable, but Tatsu herself lives mostly on revenge and duty and, for that matter, whiskey as well, to a certain degree, so it’s not for her to judge. “Most of them, at least. All of them minus the Australian.”

“At least he’s a good fighter,” Tatsu points out. This is the only good thing she can say about Captain Boomerang with full confidence.  

“He’s not cut out for teamwork.”

“When we were fighting the Enchantress, it didn’t look to me like that.”

She does not put much meaning into these words. It’s just that at some point Captain Boomerang saved her, and she saved him – and good thing they’re even, because the last thing she needs is to owe a favour to someone so incompatible with the very concept of duty. She could have said much about the man who tried to escape at the very beginning of the mission and got a teammate killed (and for some reason stood up for El Diablo when Harley Quinn lashed out at him at the bar, and for some reason came back before the battle after trying to desert), but the only thing she’s sure of is that he’s a fine weapon; she can confirm that, being a weapon herself. At the end of the day, that is all that’s required from him.      

At the end of the day, that is all that’s required from her, too.

 ***

 It is possible that what she said about Digger Harkness sticks in Rick’s memory, because when the need to comb the area arises during the next mission, he sends the two of them to search through the same building.

“If he gets up to something, do whatever you want to him. No one’s gonna weep for him,” he flings off. This is in the heat of the moment, of course – Boomerang almost got into a fight with Killer Croc on the helicopter over some nonsense. Or rather, it was Croc that almost got into a fight with Boomerang after the latter provoked him. Complicated.  

“You heard that, darl?” Boomerang addresses her with a smile so wide as if he hasn’t heard the last remark. “I’m all yours.”

Tatsu looks the other way and pointedly takes her sword out of its sheath – not completely, just a little. No further comments follow, and they part company – Deadshot with Croc, Flag with his team of spec ops, Tatsu with Boomerang – and go on a recce.  

In the basement, they discover something that looks like a laboratory – if a place so far from being sanitary may even be called one. All their hopes to move without making a sound crumble as soon as they enter the room: the floor is covered with broken glass. Those who ran the place must have escaped in haste and couldn’t take the entire stock of the serum with them, so they opted to destroy most of it. Tatsu’s attention is immediately drawn to the object on the table in the middle of the room – a metal container with tubes going from it to several smaller vessels. She heads straight for the table, shards crunching underfoot. Boomerang follows her, apparently kicking the largest shards on purpose so that they fly in all directions.      

“Looks like a hooch still,” he comments, having come closer, and gives a whistle. “Whoa, fuck, is that blood?”

Compared to the first task of their squad, this one looks almost effortless. Two gangs, the members of one of which possess the formula of the serum that grants superpowers to those who take it. A gun battle, collateral damage, the entire district on lockdown. If a few people weren’t noticed literally floating through the sky, the police would have been handling this. But this is an emergency, which is why they’re here, and the flying gangsters aren’t flying anymore, for Lawton is an exceptionally good shot.    

As it turns out, the serum that sparked the conflict is based on metahuman blood – hardly donated voluntarily.

“I’ll contact Colonel Flag,” says Tatsu, eyes locked on the bloodied tubes, and then someone grabs her by the neck.

For the first time in her life, she really has to fight blindly – because her enemy is invisible.  

Later, when the dead bodies gradually become visible on the floor like an eerie animated movie, it turns out there were four of them. Before that, Tatsu manages to lose her sword, recapture it, almost choke when an invisible hand squeezes her neck, slash one of the attackers in half, and plunge the blade into another’s stomach. Boomerang takes care of the other two, knocking over the container in the process.    

Tatsu is listening to the silence that came after the fight, wondering if any other invisible foes are lurking around the corner, when she feels that something is wrong. Something is wrong with her – she just can't figure out what. Sometimes it happens that one feels unwell but cannot determine what exactly the problem is – she is experiencing something similar now. Until she realizes: the mask. Until she looks up and makes eye contact with Captain Boomerang, who is staring at her and grinning.  

“You lost anything, doll?” Harkness inquires innocently, with an emphasis on the last word, and his smile grows even wider and cockier.  

Shit. Shit, shit, shit. The invisible man she fought hand to hand tore off her mask, and she didn’t even notice. But her partner, blast him, did – and picked it up.  

“Give it back,” Tatsu demands, hand outstretched. She feels naked. In combat, during the mission, she is Katana, a single whole with her sword. A cold weapon. No one needs to see her face. Truly, if she was wearing only the mask and nothing else, she would have felt less exposed – all right, this is an overstatement, and she doesn’t even want to imagine such a situation. Meanwhile, Boomerang is in no hurry to return the mask.      

“What did ya call me when that fucker was about to stab me?” he asks. Tatsu clenches the sword hilt. There is no telling how many enemies drunk on the magic serum are hiding in this house, and he’s dawdling. “You said…”

Damn it, what did she say? She saw one of the invisibles creeping up on him while he was fighting another – a bloodstain was floating through the air. She shouted…

“I said ‘George’”. Isn’t your name George Harkness?”

“You bet it is. It’s just weird. Most people don’t call me George, y’know.”  

“How do they call you then?”

“Digger. Boomerang. Boomer. That Prick. All sorts of things, but never George. But you,” he winks, “can call me whatever ya want. I liked the way you say my name.”

“Give. Me. The mask.”

“And the magic word?”

“I will chop your hand off,” as a proof of her intentions, she puts the blade against his extended hand that is holding her mask. In fact, she would face no consequences for doing so. No one’s gonna weep for him.      

Harkness makes a helpless gesture and hands her the mask.

“Can’t say no to you, luv.”

The mask helps her conceal her identity, but what is more important is that it helps her conceal needless emotions. Tatsu really hopes that her facial expression isn’t giving away that she’s ill at ease now. This is a weakness; weaknesses are not to be demonstrated. She feels deeply relieved when she puts the mask back on.  

“Let’s get out of here,” she commands, turns around, and heads for the exit. Harkness trails behind.

“It ain’t fair, by the way. You know my real name, but I don’t know yours,” he muses. “Care to introduce yourself, eh?”  

He asks the same question at least three times more before they return to Belle Reve, and each time she ignores him.

 ***

 A week later, he still doesn’t know her name – but he learns something else.

They do away with the last members of the recent gang on the outskirts of the city. Both wretches have overused the unfortunate serum, in keeping with the best traditions of the clichéd movies about superheroes and supervillains that Hollywood keeps producing for some reason, even though it is more and more often possible to see nearly the same thing on the news. As a result, one of them got puffed up almost to the size of the creature that Superman died fighting, and the other couldn’t control the flames bursting from his mouth. He burned half of the shopping centre with customers, retail workers, and guards. With teenagers in the bowling alley on the second floor and children in the playroom on the first.    

Santana… wouldn’t have approved.

Both problems eliminated, they leave: the firefighters and the cops will take it from here. Flag’s spec ops stay behind, because officially it is their victory; the general public shouldn’t know about the existence of Task Force X. Through backyards, they retreat in the direction of the abandoned construction site on the other side of the street; a car has been sent to pick them up there.  

There is a workers’ trailer still standing by the construction pit. The door is not locked, and Rick, Deadshot, Croc, and Boomerang go inside. Jones’s arm is broken: his inhuman strength notwithstanding, he still was no match for his enemy – not the fire-breather, but the other one. Tatsu leaves them to figure out how to make a temporary sling, and wanders away. Not far from the trailer, a piece of tarpaulin stretched over the fence has come off, and she can see the building across the street. Tatsu sits down on the ground, puts her arms around her knees, and stares at the dandelions growing by the fence.  

In her head, flames are raging.

She doesn’t look up, neither when she hears the footsteps approaching, nor when Harkness – and it is him, no one else in the Squad reeks of the mixture of booze and cologne like that – sits down next to her and cracks open a can of beer.  

“You want some?” he nudges her. What extraordinary generosity. It is, however, perfectly possible that if she says yes, he’ll reply along the lines of “Well, then go and buy yourself some.”  

“No,” Tatsu replies without looking and, after a short pause, adds, “Thank you.”

“Are you sure?”

With a sigh, she accepts the can from his hands, and takes a sip.

“This is disgusting,” she whispers, and takes another.  

Harkness just snorts and opens another one. For a little while, they sit side by side in silence, drinking each from their own can, and study the wall opposite through the mesh of the fence – like out of a prison window. Old advertisements that are half torn off, graffiti, a writing proclaiming that life fucks us all – plenty of things to stare at to avoid looking the person next to you in the eye.  

“So what the hell happened to ya?” Boomerang asks, and suddenly she could do with some serum for invisibility or, better yet, disappearing completely. Naturally, it is a fleeting impulse; she has no right to disappear. She has obligations – towards Flag, towards Waller. Towards herself.    

“Nothing.”

“Nothing? You zoned out, Flag shouted himself hoarse before you heard him. Like you were someplace else. Didn’t ya?”  

Why do you need to know? Tatsu thinks. If she almost rushed headlong into the fire, it’s her own business. If it only seemed to her that someone was there, it’s her own business. If she’s going to see things that aren’t there for the rest of her life, it’s her own business. He shouldn't have spoken. There is something comforting about being silent together.    

“Nah, you don’t have to say if you don’t wanna,” Boomerang assents, and takes another pull on his can. “I just thought that you, well. Might wanna talk to someone.”  

And they fall silent again. Yet now Tatsu feels awkward, which makes her angry at herself. She’s not obliged to pour out her heart to anyone who shows something that looks like care.    

This silence doesn’t make it any easier.

“I have… bad memories,” she finally says. Now it won’t be as awkward: she answered his question. It won’t be, right? “About a fire”.

Harkness nods, looking at her attentively.

“Someone you knew died, aye?”

“My children,” she hears herself say, and wishes to disappear again.

“Fuck,” Boomerang says, embarrassed, and – unbelievable – looks like he actually feels bad about starting this conversation. “I’m sorry, I… well, uh, I had no idea.”  

“It’s okay,” Tatsu says mechanically. Nothing is okay: she can still see Yuki’s tear-stained face, still hear Reiko’s voice, she is still watching the flames run up the curtains that she and Maseo picked together, she is still breathing in the smoke and still cannot believe she deserves a gulp of fresh air. She should have saved them. All of them.  

Boomerang looks at her incredulously but doesn’t say anything, and bit by bit, the silence that she doesn’t want to run from returns – the kind of silence in which one is not alone.    

Then there are footsteps again, and Flag approaches them.

“There you are,” he says with relief as soon as he sees her. Rick does not let himself overstep the limits of formality – they’re on a mission, after all – but he has obviously been worried. At the sight of Harkness, he frowns warily. “You! Quit getting on her nerves.”

“Who’s gettin’ on her nerves, Colonel? I was just tryin’ to help,” Harkness protests. It appears Rick’s words have wounded him a little.  

“He was,” Tatsu says. “It’s all under control, Colonel Flag.”  

Flag shifts his gaze to her and then to Boomerang again, and nods.

“Okay. In any case… follow me. We’re leaving.”

Tatsu gives her unfinished beer to Boomerang.

“Don’t talk about this to anyone,” she tells him. This might be an order or a request; she doesn’t really know.

He nods, and she thinks absentmindedly: who would have thought this man knows how to make a solemn face.

“Thank you,” she says again, hoping that he understands that this is not just about the beer or his promise to keep his mouth shut.

***

 After a few days, Tatsu comes to visit him. In prison.

Actually, she comes to visit all of them, of course. Not more than fifteen minutes alone with each of them – Waller wouldn’t allow more. This request seems to have surprised her, but Tatsu is certain that Waller is already picturing the new threads she can use to manipulate her special operations puppets. So it is possible that one day this decision will blow up in Tatsu’s face – or in the faces of all of them. But she cannot shake off the feeling that she must do this – so that someone except Rick, who is already dealing with a lot these days, would notice in time if the inmates are treated with undeserved cruelty. So that she knows what’s on their minds, because it is safer to fight side by side with the people whose line of thought she can understand at least roughly. So that there is some kind of variety in their lives between the missions.  

This is why she visits all three of them. Killer Croc, who looks like he’s not surprised to see her in the slightest and doesn’t really seems to care that she came, but doesn’t have any issue with that either. Deadshot, who looks like he is surprised, but doesn’t seem to mind answering her questions when she notices a stack of letters in the corner and asks him how his daughter is doing. And Captain Boomerang, who, when she enters his cell, looks like he can’t figure out if he’s dreaming.

“Katana?” he frowns perplexedly. He’s stripped to his waist, so she can see a couple of fresh scars he brought back from the last mission, and he’s got a black eye – when Tatsu saw him last, he had not. Must have quarrelled with the guards again. “What are you doing here?”  

“I came to see you.”

For a moment he seems not to understand what she just said. Then he breaks into a smile – or rather a grin, wide and pleased. Very pleased.  

“Aha! Knew it would end up like this,” he pronounces in triumph.

“Like this?”

“You,” he looks like he’s just proven a theorem of immense complexity, “missed me.”  

“I haven’t missed you, Captain.”

A very, very pleased grin.

“And still you’re here.”

“I visited Deadshot and Killer Croc earlier,” Tatsu says, and sees his facial expression change instantly. Not for long: the grin is quick to return, and she wouldn’t be able to tell right away that he’s disappointed.    

“Did ya now? And how are our fellas doing? Better than me, I reckon?”

“So it would seem. Did you fight the guards?”

“Why do you care, gorgeous?”

Indeed, why does she? Most likely, he picked a fight himself – and got his just deserts.  

“Make up your mind,” Tatsu says, “if you think that I missed you or that I don’t care.”

Harkness chuckles and really seems to ponder over this for a while.

“Beats me,” he concludes at last. “Care to throw some light on it?”  

No, Tatsu thinks, I don’t get it myself and I’m not sure I want to.

Instead of answering, she comes closer to him – so close that she can smell his sweat – and studies his face. She has to look up to be able to do that, which must look comical. Then again, he’s hardly stupid enough to laugh at her height or anything else about her, especially when she’s armed and he is not.  

“You lost a tooth. What happened?”

“Didn’t get along with one of the Wall’s watchdogs.”

“You could have tried not to look for trouble for a change,” all of a sudden, Tatsu realizes that she’s mad. Really mad at him. They might get dragged to another mission this instant; whether they like it or not, they have to be in good enough shape to protect the society that the most of them have to atone before at least partially. They shouldn’t spend their energy and health on nonsense. Black eyes and knocked-out teeth are nothing, but it mustn’t come to any of them being out of action when all of them are needed. All their powers, all their skills. All the anger they should rather aim at something other than the people who can just press a certain button at any point – and dispose of the wilful weapon.

Boomerang bares his teeth – not like Croc, of course, but still threateningly. He looks dangerous now – big, sturdy, more than a head taller than her. But he still isn’t more dangerous than her – and both of them are aware of that.  

“And they could have tried,” he speaks through his teeth, “not to talk shit about my mother for a change. They wanna talk shit about me, they can knock themselves out. I’ve heard enough ‘bout myself, I don’t give a flying fuck about what else they gonna say. But they’d better leave my mother out of it.”

So that’s what it is. They have found a quick and easy way to infuriate the man who has “MUM” tattooed on his chest. In uneven letters, like a child's handwriting. Tatsu noticed that tattoo as soon as she came in but didn’t look too closely at it. Now she feels like she has the right to look, to let her gaze slip lower, at the ridiculous writing that heaves with each furious breath of his, and then to avert her eyes at once.    

“They have power, and you have nothing,” she says. “Do you enjoy being their plaything?”

“Oh, so I’m a plaything, darl? And do I have much choice who to be now? In these four walls, and,” Boomerang points at his neck, at the place where a bomb is implanted under his skin, “with this crap in my neck?”  

Tatsu looks up again, right him in the eye.

“You already know who you are,” she tells him. “You’re a weapon. Broken weapons get discarded. And you’re letting them break you.”  

He stays silent, just looks at her in an odd manner, as if she’s speaking another language but he has a vague understanding of what she’s saying and doesn’t like what he just heard – because it is the truth.

Tatsu still doesn’t understand why she cares, and with each passing minute she has less and less desire to learn why.  

“Also,” she continues, “if you call me ‘darl’ or ‘gorgeous’ one more time, you’re going to regret opening your mouth.”

“Yeah? And how should I call ya?”

“Katana.”

“What, and that’s all? Nah, we might be weapons,” and she probably ought to remind him that there is no ‘we’, but in this particular case he’s right. Perhaps that is why Tatsu feels drawn to all of them: they’re cut from the same cloth, “but we’re alive as well. So far. Seriously, what’s yer real name? You know mine.”  

“I should not disclose that.”  

“Oh, come on. Listen,” he breaks into a pleased grin again. Another theorem proven. “How about a deal? You tell me yer name, and I will try to keep my temper if anyone else decides to stir me up. What do ya think?”    

“As if you’re going to keep your word.”

Boomerang makes a show of putting his hand over his heart.

“For you, ma’am… anything.”

For you. All at once, she recalls Rick’s words: do whatever you want to him. How many minutes of the visit she has already spent on this predictably fruitless conversation?    

“My name is Tatsu Yamashiro,” she says, tired, and then he smiles – not the way he did before, but in a calmer and more sincere manner. Gratefully.

“George Harkness,” he offers her his hand with an earnest air. “Nice to meet ya.”  

Tatsu hesitantly offers him hers. Her hand looks very small and fragile against his huge paw, and he must be thinking the same because the handshake comes out very careful. He could easily break her wrist. She could easily kill him with one hand afterwards. But he holds her hand gently in his warm, pleasantly calloused palm, and Tatsu hastens to take her hand away, because this is a mistake of an even worse kind than the time he saw her without the mask.  

“So you promise not to fights the guards.”

“I promise to try,” Harkness assures, but he’s keeping one hand behind his back.

“Don’t cross your fingers,” Tatsu says sternly. Real mature.

With a sigh, Boomerang repeats his promise, this time holding his hands within her view.

“But I ain’t promisin’ not to call you gorgeous,” he declares in the end.

“You know my name now.”

“But you’re still gorgeous.”

“Time’s up!” shouts the guard outside the door, and Tatsu cannot help feeling relieved that she has to go. She doesn’t regret visiting him, but all of this is too strange and awkward, and both of them might be weapons, but her position is different from his, and it is better not to forget that.    

“Can I do anything for you?” she asks him on parting.  

“Well,” Boomerang smirks. “I don’t even know where to begin.”

“With something I would actually agree to do?”

“Come again. Will ya?” This time he isn’t flirting; this time she can feel his insecurity, even shyness. As if he doesn’t like to admit to himself that what she answers is really important to him.  

“I’ll try,” she says cautiously. She’s not going to make any promises: she asked Waller about one time only. She doubts if she’ll be allowed to visit them again – to visit him again.  

“Try,” Harkness repeats, as if weighing the word on his tongue. “This means no.”

“This means I’ll try,” Tatsu says firmly.

And she comes again in a week. And the week after next. And a week after that.  

 ***

 “Why didn’t you walk away in Midway City?” Tatsu asks him once. “When Rick broke the control panel. You left then; why did you return?”  

A lot of water has flowed under the bridge since the time Captain Boomerang dared to smart off Amanda Waller. Several successful missions, slightly more respectful attitude on his part – and his cell already bears a passing resemblance to a place for living, even if for living quite miserably. Now there is even a table, and a chair that she gets to sit on as guest privilege. Harkness is sitting on the floor opposite her. The question seems to catch him unawares, but only for a moment.    

“Huh? Why did I return? Gotta live up to my name, that’s why. Have you ever thrown a boomerang, luv?”

I’m going to throw you somewhere one day, Tatsu thinks, yet without much irritation.

“And jokes aside?”

Boomerang attempts to feign an offended sigh.

“How do ya think? Plenty of options, all right. You gonna try to guess which one?”

Tatsu frowns.

“Is this a psychoanalysis session? Were you bitten by Harley Quinn?”

“Nah, Blondie didn’t bite me, I would’ve remembered. So don’t be jealous,” his voice gets playful again, and Tatsu stifles the urge to roll her eyes. “Lookie here… suppose I suddenly realized that I can’t leave you guys! ‘Cause you’re my mates. One for all, and so on. Don’t believe me?”

“You said something about plenty of options. What are the rest of them?”

He scratches his chin thoughtfully.

“We-e-ell… the second, ‘course, is that I wanted to save the world. Not that the world smiles upon me every bloody day, but I still wanna live! And for everyone an’ their mother to know that the bastards like us can also be heroes. Don’t you like being one of the good guys, eh, Tatsu?”

“I’m not ‘one of the good guys’”, Tatsu protests. “And it’s not me that we’re talking about. Any other options?”

“There was no point in leaving. That was still gonna be the end of the world, aye? So I’d rather meet it in battle and in good company than on the run. All the same it’ll be the end. There you go.”  

He stops talking, and in the silence that falls Tatsu can hear the footsteps of the guards in the corridor. Once again she wonders what the duty attendants that monitor everything through the surveillance cameras think of their conversations. They must make for the strangest and most pointless reality show ever.  

“The third one,” she says.

Boomerang looks a bit disappointed.

“Why?”

“Not the first one, because none of us meant anything to you then. You had just met us. And it didn’t seem like you were upset about letting Slipknot down,” Tatsu explains. She doesn’t intend to offend him – she’s just saying the truth. Once, he claimed it himself that they understand each other – here’s some understanding, he’s welcome. “Not the second one either, because you’re not stupid – no, stop smiling. You never believed that if people like us stop the Enchantress, someone would learn about that. Only the third option remains.”  

Harkness nods slowly.

“Yeah,” he agrees, and his eyes turn pensive, abstracted, as if he is there again, in the night city frozen in anticipation of the apocalypse. As if he sees himself – and makes a choice once again. “And that’s what happened in the end, didn’t it?”

“So the third option, then?”

“So it is.”

But something in his face makes Tatsu think that he was hoping for a different answer.

***

 Time flies; weeks and months go by. Tatsu spends them fighting, spilling someone else’s blood, occasionally drinking with Flag at a bar or in his apartment – a bachelor’s home again; reading books – most of the plots seem too naïve and unimaginative compared to what goes on in her life, and that is even for the best, and visiting the members of the Suicide Squad in Belle Reve. Some people go clubbing Friday evenings, and she goes to prison Friday afternoons.  

“Don’t get attached to them,” Rick scolds her.

“That is rich coming from you,” Tatsu replies, and he has enough self-awareness not to argue. Lest he gets offended, she chooses not to tell him that sometimes she and Lawton talk a little about him good-naturedly behind his back.

During one of her visits, Harkness raises a topic she has totally forgotten about.

“Hey, come to think of it, we never had that drink,” he points out. Tatsu doesn’t understand what he’s talking about, and it must be written all over her face, because he continues. “Remember I asked you out for a drink? In Midway City, before we fought the witch.”  

Tatsu has to make an effort to remember: indeed, he said something of the sort, but it never occurred to her to take those words seriously.

“We had a drink,” she counters. “When… when you shared your beer with me.”  

He shakes his head, dissatisfied.

“At the construction site? That’s bollocks. I’m talking a proper bar… nah, a restaurant! With crystal glasses an’ candles an’ shit… Like normal people.”  

“Candles,” Tatsu mumbles. She tries to imagine the two of them at the table at a restaurant; the picture turns out pretty absurd. On the other hand, a lot of what has happened in her life during the past few years can be deemed absurd.

“Yeah. Candles,” echoes Harkness, and continues with a crooked smile, “well, that’s me jokin’ around. In the near future,” he gestures in the direction of the small barred window of his cell, “I won’t be able to take you even to a fucking McDonald’s.”  

They don’t talk about the hypothetical dinners at a restaurant anymore, but the absurd picture stays with Tatsu, who still feels somehow indebted to Boomerang – for no reason, as she keeps telling herself – for that conversation at the construction site. She doesn’t like to feel the weight of unpaid debts on her shoulders – yes, that’s what it is about.

One day, she finds a way to pay that debt back.

 ***

 She waits for him in the car outside the prison gate. She hears him first; she cannot make out what exactly he is yelling at the guards, but that surely isn’t ‘good evening’. Then the door of the jeep is open, and someone must have kicked him in the rear because he literally falls into the car. Tatsu shrinks back on instinct.  

Then Harkness looks up – and notices her.

“Katana?.. Hey, what the hell’s going on? They didn’t let me take the boomerangs, didn’t let me take anything…”

“Close the door,” Tatsu tells him, and when he, still confused, obeys, tells the driver, “Let’s go.”

The car pulls away.

“I still don’t get what’s happening,” Harkness reminds her. “Sure, I’m happy to see ya, but… you weren’t ordered to take me to the woods and finish me off under the radar, huh?”  

“If Waller wanted to get rid of you, she would have had you killed in your own cell, and that’s all.”

“Wow, thanks for honesty. So where are we going?”

“To a restaurant,” Tatsu says, and turns away. Yet again it crosses her mind that it is a terrible idea.

“A restaurant?” Harkness drawls quizzically.

“As far as I recall, you said that the beer at the construction site is ‘bollocks’.”  

She should turn back to him, of course. The problem is that Tatsu is ninety-nine per cent sure that if she meets his eye now, she will blush. And she is by no means going to give him any sign that might be interpreted as taking an interest… of a certain kind. She has already blundered more than a few times.  

Therefore she stubbornly keeps looking out of the window. Then again, she doesn’t even need to look to picture how his facial expression is changing now; she’s seen this rakish grin enough times.  

“Holy cow. Tatsu, are you serious? We’re really just going to a restaurant? We’re getting outta this shithole where they only give us porridge with rat crap to gorge ourselves on lobsters and drink wine? Oh, fuck me sideways,” in the end, she turns to him and sees him throw back his head and burst into laughter, narrowing his eyes happily. “I’ll be damned! Am I dreaming? I must be dreaming. Pinch me.”    

“I can assure you you’re not,” Tatsu says, and realizes that she is also starting to smile despite herself. She has visited him and the others in Belle Reve often enough to know that porridge with rat crap, unfortunately, is far from being just a figure of speech. After such a diet, a meal at a restaurant must seem like the pinnacle of happiness.    

Boomerang shakes his head, apparently still unable to believe her.

“Holy fucking shit. How did you do that? How do you even do all that? I’ve told ya you’re unreal, have I?”

“Yes, you have,” Tatsu confirms patiently. And more than once – too often for her to attach great importance to it, too fervently for it not to please her at all. “Let’s put it that way: this is Waller paying me for a… favour.”  

“A favour, then. I take it a lot of some poor suckers died?”

“No,” she shakes her head. And it is true – but there still was a lot of blood. Both the man Waller indicated and his bodyguards turned out to be worthy adversaries. The whole thing went not as smoothly as she wanted it to – not that she wanted to; not that she would kill another person she knows nothing about if she could help it. Nothing to assure her: this one deserves it. Everything turned out rather… nasty. She had to burn the bodies. Then she got home in a haze, tended to a couple of fresh wounds – or rather, just scratches. And then she went to the bathroom and spent a long time soaping herself, as if the invisible filth that bothered her the most could be washed off with shower gel.    

Afterwards, she rummaged through her modest wardrobe and dug out the only dress she has about in America. Nothing special: wine red, below the knee length, sleeveless but with a pretty high neckline – very demure. The first and so far the last dress she bought after… after. If she and Rick didn’t have to accompany Amanda Waller to some event once, she wouldn’t have bought this one either. She put it on, combed her hair, still wet after the shower, with her fingers, looked at herself in the mirror – and flew into a rage, pulled off the dress, and could barely stop herself from tearing it to shreds. Restaurant or not, what does it matter? The last thing she needs is for him to think she dressed up for him.      

So the situation might be a little less absurd than it could have been. Both of them look like they’re going on another mission with the others, only she isn’t wearing her mask – he has already seen her face anyway – and he isn’t wearing his ever-present coat. It is no wonder he wasn’t allowed to take it – Waller wasn’t going to let him out of Belle Reve armed, and to let him wear his coat would probably be as unwise as to hand him all his boomerangs. Tatsu has no doubt that everyone and their dog have already searched through the personal belongings of the Squad, but she wouldn’t be surprised to learn that somewhere in his inside pockets Harkness has as many boomerangs as he is listed as having officially. She witnessed this man produce from his bosom at least four different lighters, a massive stack of dollars, a pocket knife, small binoculars, flat-nose pliers, and a toy unicorn. She has to admit: sometimes she doesn’t understand how he even does all that either.    

It appears that the thoughts of Captain Boomerang also turn to the contents of his pockets.

“Hey, how the hell are we affording this, though? Make no mistake, I’d stand treat, but my stash is in the coat, and these assholes didn’t let me take it, y’know.”    

“Don’t worry about that. Waller is paying for everything,” she explains, unable to suppress a grin, because this part, possibly the most unbelievable part of the entire affair, gives her a sort of silly, spiteful joy. Task Force X is a comparatively recent project, but they’ve already cleaned up so much mess for Amanda Waller that Heracles and his labours don’t even come close. A dinner at a restaurant is the least thing she could offer them. So when Boomerang explodes with laughter and gives her a conspiratorial wink, she looks him right in the eye and smiles. Another mistake. Then again, this is not the first time they share a secret.

He puts his hand on her knee, and she shakes it off immediately; this is way too far.

“I see you took your sword with ya,” Harkness observes, not giving any sign that something didn’t go the way he wanted.

“I am to keep an eye on you.”

“Yeah. How about…” he leans in closer, and the smell of cologne blasts up Tatsu’s nose. She can only hope it is due to external use only, “we chop off his head,” he nods at the driver, “and drive the fuck away from this? Huh?”    

The driver, who can definitely hear everything, doesn’t turn, but Tatsu notices him tense up.

“You’re kidding,” she says dryly. He may be, or he may be not – with Digger Harkness, one cannot always tell.

“Why kidding, doll? Zip, and done. There’s no way you enjoy working for Waller.”  

“I do not. But if you pull some stunt,” Tatsu feels for the sword hilt, and Boomerang sees that – very well, it is good for him to see that, “I will chop your head off. I really hope it won’t come to that.”  

“And what’s it to you? Scared of me? But I’m unarmed,” he claps himself on the chest demonstratively, implying that he has no weapons on him. “Why do you care if it does?”  

“I just wouldn’t like to do that,” she says firmly, and it’s true. It works well; he doesn’t even mention running away for the remainder of the day.

 This might be the strangest evening in her life.

Waller’s man drives them to a French restaurant whose name she cannot read but is almost sure that the phrase was chosen solely because it sounds impressive. They are let in through the back door, so no one among the other guests, who are sporting evening dresses and suits, pays any attention to her crop top and sword or to his… appearance in general. Their table is one of those located in alcoves, away from prying eyes, but Tatsu feels they are being watched. Which means Waller doesn’t trust her too much – well, she can understand that. She is part of a special team composed of deranged madmen, and she must admit she likes these deranged madmen more than she likes certain normal people known to her. Of course, she is Flag’s right-hand woman, but it is most likely that Waller doesn’t trust Flag either. It is doubtful whether there are any people in this world that she trusts at all.          

Waller is rich. Their little feast will not shatter her wealth, all the more so since the restaurant she sent them to is not the most luxurious. But they still have a field day ordering loads of food and a bottle of the most expensive wine on the menu.    

“To honour among thieves?” she suggests, when they raise their glasses for the first time.

“Didn’t ya say yer not a thief?”

“That is true,” she admits, and adds inwardly, I’m a killer.  

In the end, they drink to the Suicide Squad. Then to Lawton and Jones, currently languishing in their cells. Then to Zoe Lawton, who is acting in a school play next week. To a lot of things. He asks her about her life here, in America. At some point she finds herself trying to explain to him what taiyaki is, and him telling her about banana sandwiches, and she can’t remember why they started talking about this at all. The bottle becomes empty, and another appears as if by itself.      

They don’t talk about the past. They don’t talk about the future, because there might be no future at all – they can’t know for sure, what with their way of life. That evening, Tatsu laughs and thinks: good thing I’m drunk – it almost gets easier for a while.  

When it’s time to leave, Harkness gets pig-headed.

“Whoa, no, no, no. Already? It’s too early, are you kiddin’ me?” he booms out when they exit the restaurant. He protests, but she drags him by the hand and he stumbles along after all, treading heavily like a dancing bear. “Let’s go someplace else, luv. Look at the pretty stars.”  

“We are already late. And you… you have to go back to jail,” Tatsu tells him. The stars are pretty indeed, but she regrets looking up at them, because her head begins to spin. Thankfully, she isn’t wearing high heels. Thankfully, she doesn’t have any high-heeled shoes at all, or she could have been possessed to wear them. “Sorry,” she adds when they get into the car and set off. “There is no other way.”  

“Back to jail,” Boomerang repeats with disgust. Sprawling on the seat, he unzips his hoodie, and Tatsu is swept over by the smell of cologne again. Weirdly, it doesn’t annoy her as much as at the beginning of the evening. “I’m a fucking Cinderella. I’m not back by midnight, they turn me into a pumpkin.”  

“Cinderella,” Tatsu echoes, and giggles: everything is way funnier now. The driver makes a sudden turn, and she is literally thrown at Boomerang. Her cheek presses to his chest – and stays there. Tatsu feels drunk and sated and drunk again, and sleepy too, and he makes for a decent pillow, and she can’t make herself move away.  

“Oh, you think it’s funny,” Harkness mutters with mock offence in his voice. It seems he’s about to fall asleep too. “Well, go on, laugh.”

They drive back in silence, and through the drowse Tatsu feels the warm arm around her waist and thinks: good thing I’m drunk, I can pretend I’m asleep.  

The road to Belle Reve is long, but it still feels like they reach it too quickly.

“Inmate,” calls one of the guards, “get out.”  

Harkness, his eyes still closed, moans with discontent.

“Captain Boomerang,” Tatsu says softly, freeing herself from his embrace. “It’s time.”

There is nothing to be done. He’s already about to step out of the jeep, when he suddenly moves closer to her again.

“Hey, darlin’,” he says, looking her right in the eye. “Aren’t ya forgetting something?”

It takes her some time to realize what he means: he must be expecting her to kiss him. All at once she remembers everything that has happened this evening, and awful shame washes over her: it is no wonder he’s expecting that to happen.  

“Inmate, get out!”

She shrinks back.

“Good night, Captain,” she tells him as dryly as she can. He looks wounded but says nothing, and almost obediently lets the guards escort him back to his cell. Tatsu closes her eyes and rubs her temples wearily. Tomorrow she is going to regret drinking so much. She already does – and that’s not the only thing she regrets.

She has to stop seeing him.

 ***

 At first, she even succeeds. Next Friday Tatsu, as always, goes to Belle Reve to see the Squad – all of them save for Harkness. She feels sick at heart because if she did promise him anything, it was to visit him, and now she’s going back on her word because of her own stupid weakness. But there is no other way.  

“He asked about you,” Waylon tells her a week later, when she brings him the latest issue of Playboy. Tatsu almost doesn’t feel weird anymore when buying it, and doesn’t try to imagine anymore what the news stand clerks think when she pays them for it. Such periodicals cause her a feeling of light disgust, but Croc, who gets let out of jail only to be thrown into another trouble spot, deserves at least some small joys.  

“Who?”

Waylon, no doubt observant like all the quiet ones tend to be, bares his impressive teeth.  

“You know who.”

It seems a logical solution to give up on these visits at all – but in that case she would betray all of them. Perhaps this little tradition is much more important to her than it is to the prisoners, but Tatsu is almost sure that it means something to them as well. She has no right to deprive the rest of them of this bit of understanding, companionship, normalcy because she wasn’t smart enough to stop the game she and Boomerang started before it became too late.

At home – not that the apartment she’s renting here deserves to be called ‘home’ – she, unable to fall asleep, unsheathes the sword and runs the tips of her fingers along the cool blade. A tender, habitual movement – like touching the cheek of a loved one.

“I’ve lost my way, Maseo,” whispers Tatsu. The place where the souls of the people struck down by this blade are trapped is still a mystery to her, but she knows that Maseo will come as soon as she calls him – as a voice from afar, as nebulous shapes in the swirls of smoke, as the peace and safety granted by the presence of someone dear. “I’m afraid of my own heart.”    

I know your heart, Tatsu. You have nothing to be afraid of.

“It makes me act rashly. Makes me succumb to false feelings.”  

I know your heart, Tatsu, and it incapable of falsehood.  

Only the ones that are already far away can speak so vaguely and with such unrelenting honesty at the same time.  

“I will always love you,” she whispers ardently. Not because she doesn’t want him to think it is not so; not because she herself feels like it is not so anymore either. She knows for sure that she is always going to love him, for she loved him as a lover, as a husband, as the father of her children, as the only thing she had left after all her life fell apart, burned in that damned fire. He will stay in her heart until her last breath – even if she has to close her heart to the rest of the world. Once she used to think that after all she’s been through, it isn’t going to be an issue.

And I will always love you, her husband replies, and Tatsu blinks back tears with a deep sigh.

“I just wish you were alive,” she tells him for what must be the hundredth, or maybe a thousandth time.

If he was with her – not as smoke or a voice, but as flesh and blood – he probably would have kissed her gently on the nape of her neck, as he often used to do.  

I just wish, says her husband – no, the soul of her husband, which is already rushing away, deep into the world she shouldn’t hurry to go to if she doesn’t want this sword to fall into wrong hands, that you were happy.

***

 Literally the next day there is a message from Metropolis that some giant snake-like beast is terrorizing the city and devouring people. The monster was last seen crawling into the building of the opera – which is where their squad heads to after reaching the city.  

“Look at that freak,” Harkness comments in a low voice. The creature is curled up slumbering on stage, and they are watching it from the catwalks above. “Not a family of yours by any chance, eh, ‘gator?’    

Waylon steps towards him, and the planks creak under his feet, threatening to break.

“Say that again,” he growls.

Tatsu bares her sword and wedges herself between them. Waylon backs off reluctantly.

“Knock it off,” she tells Boomerang. It feels like everything has come full circle – the day Harkness picked up her mask, he also had a run-in with Jones. The day they were sent to fight the Enchantress, she also put the blade of her sword under his chin. Why did she even think something would change?

“Oh, so you’re talking to me after all?”

“Enough,” Tatsu hisses. She really wants to try to explain everything to him. Maybe if she tries to put her feelings into words, many things will become clear to her, too. But if he thinks they are going to discuss this now, he is mistaken.

On the neighbouring catwalk, Rick is looking at them in a rage, gesturing both of them to shut up. Harkness steps closer; now the blade of the Soultaker is within a hair’s breadth away from his neck. A single careless movement, and blood will be spilled. A wild idea crosses her mind: it looks as if he’s into this. Tatsu licks her lips.

“Y’know,” Boomerang begins, lowering his head a little so that it is easier for him to look her in the eye, “I think you’re scared of me. Or of yourself, hell if I know. Am I right?”  

A loud rustle comes from beneath, and the next instant the monster bites through the middle of the catwalk they’re standing on, and both of them are falling down. Tatsu manages to grab some rope, but when she tries to climb it, her hands slip, and she comes tumbling down.

The fall is far from being soft, even though she falls on the tatters of the curtain, which the snake must have torn earlier. She is lucky not to hurt her head, but her left leg and hip are aching. Only the awareness that there is no time to lie around makes her summon up all her strength and get up. Her sword is nowhere to be seen, and Tatsu is overwhelmed by fury: now she is useless.

The snake roars and shakes its head, trying to shake off Croc, who is trying to bite through its scales. Rick is shooting at the monster from above, and Deadshot, who is already on stage somehow, is doing the same from below, dodging the blows of its tail. Tatsu sweeps her eyes weakly over the stage and suddenly notices a hole broken in it. At the very edge of the hole, the hilt of her sword is sticking out of the floor. Moving as quickly as it is possible to do that with a limp, Tatsu hurries there.

The moment she pulls the sword out of the stage, Harkness’s head pokes out of the hole. Not waiting for him to ask for help, Tatsu helps him get out.

“Are you…” both of them begin in unison and drop it immediately, because the snake has managed to shake off the bothersome little crocodile – who is hopefully just somewhere on the floor and not in its belly – and is moving towards them, slower than before but still pretty speedily. They scatter, and Tatsu charges at the monster with her sword drawn. Harkness throws a boomerang at the creature, aiming at its eye, but it dodges at the last second.        

Eventually, with joint forces they manage to kill the beast. To be on the safe side, Lawton fires a round into its open jaws. The long body shudders one last time and falls still. For some time, the five of them stand there looking at it.

“Where could this thing even come from?” Rick mutters.

“Remember what the Wicked Witch of the West said when she tried to get us to join her? The world is changing, the time of magic has come, blah, blah, blah,” Lawton reminds him. Rick nods absentmindedly; these are not happy memories.

Jones kicks the dead snake.

“Maybe it meant no harm,” he points out in his deep voice.

“Croc,” Rick says wearily, “it ate people.”

“So did I.”

“But at least you didn’t chew the curtain at the opera like a disgraced diva?” Lawton asks, struggling not to grin.

“Nuh-uh.”

“Well, then it’s okay.”

Rick titters nervously, and the next instant all of them are shaking with laughter.

 Tatsu is drinking water straight from the tap in the restroom, when Harkness comes in.

“This is a ladies’ room,” she says reflexively.

“Hey, I just wanna wash my face, is all.”

Without waiting for her to answer, he comes closer and starts washing at the neighbouring sink. Tatsu casts a sidelong look at him and notices that the water is turning red.  

“Show me your face,” she orders.

“It’s not a bad face, what’s yer problem?”

“I’m serious.”

He rolls his eyes, but stands still while she examines his face, only wincing when she dabs at the cut on his forehead with a paper towel.

“Just a scratch,” he assures at once.

“Just a scratch,” Tatsu agrees. She scrunches up the towel and throws it into the sink. She would like to keep her hand on his face, pretending that she’s still wiping off the blood, but she’s done pretending.

“How about you?” Boomerang asks quietly.

“Fine. A couple of bruises. You were lucky today,” she says just as quietly, and takes off her mask. Tomorrow they might not be as lucky. “I’m happy for you.”

“And I’m happy you got out alive… darl.”

For a moment she wants him to ruin everything. To reply with a jibe, to crack another dirty joke, to try to grab and kiss her only to get smacked. Not to stand motionless in front of her like he’s afraid to scare her off. It occurred to her once that from the outside their relationship might look like an attempt to tame a wild animal. Perhaps this is a mutual process.

Do whatever you want to him.

She stands up on tiptoes and kisses him.

For an instant, Harkness freezes – possibly trying to figure out again if he’s dreaming – and then pulls her closer and kisses back. Drinks her hungrily, like this is both the first time and the last. Bearing in mind what their lives are like, it really might be the last.

Tatsu doesn’t immediately realize why she suddenly doesn’t need to stand on tiptoes anymore.

“Put me down–” she starts, but gives up and wraps her legs around his waist. Boomerang grunts with satisfaction and switches from her lips to her neck. His beard, fortunately, is softer than could have been expected.  

“Stop drinking so much,” Tatsu breathes out, now that no one is trying to shut her mouth. “You taste like…” all English words slip her mind, “like… a beer cask.”  

It tickles her when he laughs into her neck.

Someone simply must enter now – Rick, Floyd, Amanda Waller, the president of the United  States, but no, no one is trying to stop him from squeezing her hips, to stop her from running her fingers through his hair. Weapon to weapon, blade to blade. Red-hot metal to red-hot metal. Melting until something new is forged – without fear, without regret, without the past, without the future.

Clearly, Maseo wants too much: she remembers what happiness is, and she is sure she’ll never ever be happy again.

But she can take a shot at being alive.

[amphtaminedreams]

Paris Haute Couture Week S/S 2020 Plus a Little Jacquemus: Okay, Dior DID Suck (Part 1/2)

Hi to anyone reading,

Oh my god. I completely forgot there was also 2 haute couture weeks. I FEEL SO OVERWHELMED. Here I was getting all geared up for the F/W 2020 shows and suddenly it’s Jean Paul Gaultier’s last show and everybody’s (predictably) buzzing about the Jacquemus collection. I can’t keep up. But Haute Couture week is a lot less intense than the RTW shows so I suppose I should be enjoying this relative peace whilst I can. 

I remember my last post about Haute Couture week opened with me defending Maria Grazia from the wrath of the internet; if Jacquemus is social media’s Lord and Saviour, this woman is the Antichrist. She’s Michael Langdon minus the dramatic flair. But the thing is, I genuinely really liked the Dior collection last time. Maybe because I was newer to the discipline of scouring Vogue Runway, but the lack of originality didn’t bother me; it was still something I’d die to wear, gothic yet delicate and relevant for 2019. 

That being said, this time round, I have to open by doing the exact opposite and concurring: this time round, Dior was in fact, utter shit.

I feel mean saying it but...really? These were the slightly more salvageable outfits and my favourite of the bunch, and to be honest they don’t really capture the full extent of how outdated this collection was to me. I know that the concept behind the show was this idea of the divine feminine but Greek Goddess has been done SO many times. If you’re gonna go down that route, you have to bring something new, elevate it in some way. It can’t be THIS generic.

I can’t believe that in 2020 we’re really seeing plaited hairbands. The individual dresses are basic, but not so much the problem as the styling; they look like outfits I would’ve put together back in 2012. That’s not an exaggeration. I think even 2013 me would appreciate that you need to make things a little twisty. 

The colour scheme is pretty, don’t get me wrong, and I like the cowl necks-the white dresses are the highlights. I think the concept of this collection was conceived with all the best intentions. But as a designer you need to take risks and I don’t see one single risk here; there isn’t anything that wouldn’t already be sold in your local H&M. Dior is such an established brand, Maria Grazia has room to do whatever she wants. And yet it just comes across like she’s out of ideas. 

You’ve got to look at a designer like Ulyana Sergeenko:

When I say elevated (but still in the vein of wearable), I mean something like this. To be completely honest, I hadn’t heard of Ulyana Sergeenko until I saw shots of this show on Twitter. But what a perfect mix of kitsch and glamour. The influences are clear: Priscilla Presley, Barbie, Jackie O, Valley of the Dolls, the rich stay-at-home wife of the 60s, the Alessandra Rich/Scream Queens-esque sorority girl, Paris fucking Hilton. It’s exaggerated and it’s tongue in cheek with total grounds to call it trashy-there’s a corset resembling a Benjamin Franklin, ffs-but it’s all done with a wink and a nudge. And in all honesty, I just think it’s beautiful. Can you imagine Frances O’Sullivan (@Beautyspock on IG) in one of these looks? It would be worthy of the Rose McGowan cultural reset meme ten times over.

Everything is feline, from the very literal cat silhouettes and cat headed boa, to the makeup and the hair clips. It reminds me of the last RTW Ralph and Russo show but with even more attention to detail. And look at the STAGE. If this collection were a song, it’d be Disco Tits by Tove Lo. And no, I’m not just saying that because one of the dresses actually does feature a (cat shaped) disco tit. Like these are the clothes I dreamed of putting my Bratz dolls, and for null I’m sure, myself in. Absolute perfection. Plus, I’ve loved Coco Rocha since she was on The Face with Naomi Campbell; she is, after all, to thank for the iconic “check your lipstick before you come for me” line. Girl is really the martyr for all purple lipstick lovers, cut down in her prime by a pissed-off Naomi. 

Onto Alexandre Vauthier, which I also really liked. An interesting yet effortless blend of the old and the new, the masculine and the feminine, if I could sum this collection up in one word, it would be cool. I know, it’s not the most descriptive, but it pretty much sums up how I feel; I’m not AS gassed about it as I am about Ulyana Sergeenko or this season’s Elie Saab (wait for it), but it’s a fresh offering, even if the styles aren’t the most groundbreaking. Stand outs for me are the almost petticoat like, debutante dresses which have Elle Fanning’s name written all over them.

I was hard pressed to find favourites in the Armani Privé collection if I’m honest. I’m not saying it was awful, all I know is that it just isn’t my style. It’s all a bit TOO tailored for my liking, and kinda reminds me of the Zara pantsuits my Spanish teacher used to wear. In other words, I find it to be a bit dowdy. On a positive note, the colours, fabrics, and beading are all stunning, so I see that a lot of craftsmanship clearly went into it; I think my biggest issue is the styling and the shapes (or lack of) on show. I’m very much getting a 20s, flapper vibe and whilst that’s an era that fascinates me and that I appreciate was cutting-edge at the time, I’ve yet to see it be bought into the 21st century in a way that doesn’t look stiff or costume-y. 

Then there’s Azzaro. At the complete opposite end of the scale to Armani, it doesn’t look expensive, which I’m sure isn’t something any designer previewing their collection at haute couture week is striving for. BUT that being said, I’d be much more likely to wear something from this collection than I would from Armani Privé. I mean, I have no shot at ever wearing either but ya get me. 

Whilst I’m sure it or something similar has been done before, the mesh diamanté dress is exquisite and I’m a huge fan of the stacked gem chokers and belts. The whole collection looks like something a London socialite who parties by night but (deep breath in) plays in a shitty band so fancies herself a bit of a rockstar by day would wear (exhale) and as much as that doesn’t sound like a compliment, I mean it as one. I’m talking about the kind of person you’d see smoking outside a bar and think “I wish I was them but I am potato lol”. I mean, as far as faux fur and fedoras are concerned, I’m gonna find it hard to completely slate a collection so this is pretty up my alley.

Chanel was a huge step up from their last RTW collection, imo, and probably on par with their last haute couture offering. It’s that same blend of preppy Chanel detailing (i.e the exaggerated collars, the checks and the lace) and practicality, only even more austere this time round.

It’s funny because when I looked back on original notes on this collection, before I’d even done any research into the context, I saw that one of the things I’d written was “giving me Victorian orphanage madame” as well as “something something Amish” and I wasn’t THAT far off base. The collection is, after all, supposed to be a tribute to the nuns who raised Coco Chanel at the beginning of the century in an Abbey-cum-orphanage. This makes me really happy; I know not everyone’s a fan of Virginie Viard’s nods back to the past and the brand’s origins but as a history nerd, I definitely am. 

There’s also definitely a lot of things that can be translated into high street trends here: the combination of decorative white socks and black shoes is something I’ve seen making a comeback already, tulle is always a winner (I actually don’t mind it as an overlay, I think it’s pretty, sue me) and I have no doubt we’ll be seeing these dramatic collars creeping back onto tops and jumpers throughout the year. It’s been a while since they were a thing anyway and we all know how cyclical fashion is.

Another high note for Elie Saab this haute couture season; if I was an expressive person, I probably would’ve audibly gasped as I looked through this collection. It is SO FUCKING MAGNIFICENT. The colour scheme, the baroque prints, the floral sequinned embroidery, these are Cinderella style ballgowns taken to the next level. Elie Saab really is the definition of opulence and I’m not at all mad about it. Please, somebody put Lana Del Rey in one of these, PLEASE. Remind her how much of a princess she is and get her out of those “soccer mom” looks.

I’m so stuck between this collection and Ulyana Sergeenko as my favourite, and the latter might just pip the other to the post, purely because of the staging and extravagance of the presentation itself. 

Georges Hobeika was predictably phenomenal. Like, I’m not going to lie, I am easily won over by some sequins and tulle, I’ve never claimed any different, and if you can expect that from anyone, it’s this guy (ignore that phrasing making me sound like his proud mother). The colour scheme is very spring appropriate and so is the 3D flower detailing, and if there’s anything good to take from Ascot and English royal weddings, Georges Hobeika knows it’s the hats.

It was another strong year for Givenchy too:

Though Claire Waight Keller is also fond of the extravagant details along the lines of feather and tulle, it’s always done in a more organic way; the details are always more reminiscent of nature, something created by accident, than they are suggestive of painstaking attention to detail, the image of someone hunched over a dress beading for hours on end à la Georges Hobeika or Elie Saab. That is not a bad thing at all; if anything, it makes Givenchy more interesting to study and gives you more to think about. Sometimes a dress takes you a bit longer to fully appreciate, but I’d say that only lends to its memorability. This year’s willowy, billowing, and at times coral-esque structures  remind me of something I can see being worn down an Iris Van Herpen runway, set apart by that delicate Givenchy finesse. And side not: I know this post is to talk about the clothes, not the models, but I got super excited over seeing Sora Choi and Adut Akech walk too. 

Guo Pei is always fun to look at. I mean, this collection is giving me half Matryoshka dolls, half It’s A Small World Christmas edition and I can’t hate on that. 

And then there’s Iris Van Herpen, who knocked it out of the park once again. At this point, I wouldn’t expect anything less. Every outfit looks like something that could be exhibited in the Tate Modern (I know, it’s a basic opinion, but it’s true: TATE MODERN IS THE BEST MUSEUM IN LONDON), or honestly, the Design Museum, just for the genius that must go into the way these dresses move. Honestly, if I can see a goddess wearing anything, it’s more one of these looks than anything in the Dior collection. Like wife of Poseidon or something; I know it’s not very feminist of me to not know the Greek Goddess of the sea’s name but I only know who Poseidon is because I was a Percy Jackson fan back in the day so let me live.

It’s not like the whole under-the-sea theme is particularly new, Zimmerman did something similar last RTW (I think? Correct me if I’m wrong), but these constructions could’ve grown out of the sea bed themselves, which is more of an original take than “oo, blue and white and frothy hemlines!”. Additionally, we’ve got these dresses with the overlapping almost plaited fabric that are-we’re sticking with the goddess references here-fit for Persephone ruling over hell. As for the Grudge-looking dress (fourth down, far left), I could be reaching, but is anyone else seeing that as a nod to the oil spills polluting our oceans? Because that would just add yet another layer to this collection. 

Regardless, it’s all impeccable and I’m in love. Iris Van Herpen as a MET Gala theme. Make it happen.

Anyway, to end on a high note, that’s it for this post! 

Sorry it’s such a sudden cut-off but Jean Paul Gaultier was due to be my second to last to review and due to it being the final show, there’s an onslaught of photos that would not fit with what’s already in this post. Plus, I’d rather start a post with Jacquemus then end it as I feel like there’s a lot of hype around his collections online right now so 1). it’s clickbait (for what, I do not know, as I’m not exactly making any money off this blog, just losing my sanity as it transpires when Tumblr accidentally terminated it earlier today and I had a minor breakdown) and 2). this Steve Buscemi meme is the most accurate representation of only 21 year old me to grace the internet:

I will aim to post part 2/2 in the next week, including JPG, as I just mentioned, the Jacquemus co-ed show, Margiela, Valentino and more, and as always, thank you for anyone who read until the end! You are an angel:-)

Lauren x

[cheri-translates]

[Fan-created Texts] Day 57 - Day 79

🍒 Warning: This post contains detailed spoilers for e-mails which have not been released in English servers! 🍒

These are fan-created texts by 夏月_mleila on Weibo, based on Gavin’s 100 Day Event e-mails, and she has given me permission to translate them!

She started from Day 57, and skipped certain days!

[ DAY 57 ]

Eli said that the picture I’m using as my phone wallpaper would have looked even better if the angle was tilted slightly. What does he know? You look pretty no matter what.

-

Gavin: Eli said that the picture I’m using as my phone wallpaper would have looked even better if the angle was tilted slightly. 

Gavin: What does he know? You look pretty no matter what.

MC: Haha, is that how you responded to him?

Gavin: No, I couldn’t be bothered to waste my breath on him. I just added his name to the 50km field training.

MC: ...isn’t that a little too harsh?

Gavin: He won’t learn if I’m not harsh. It’s not his place to comment on you.

MC: Maybe he was just giving suggestions out of kindness?

MC: This way, he might never dare to talk to you again

Gavin: Actually, he was already supposed to go for the field training. I just used this opportunity to discipline him.

Gavin: It’s even better if I don’t mention it. It’d save him from speaking nonsense the entire day.

MC: Poor Eli!

MC: I’m secretly celebrating that you aren’t my leader.

Gavin: ...I definitely wouldn’t do that to you.

MC: I know, I was just kidding

MC: Thank you for saying that I’m pretty, and that I look pretty no matter what (*/ω \*)

Gavin: What’s that bunch of characters at the end?

MC: It’s a shy expression

Gavin: There’s no need to be shy, you’ve always looked pretty

MC: ( *^ 3 ^) / ~☆

Gavin: What does that mean?

MC: It’s a kiss!

Gavin: Cough...

Gavin:  ( *^ 3 ^) / ~☆

Gavin: I just remembered that I have to settle some matters. See you after work.

-

Fan-created Moment Post:

Eli’s Post: I was already very careful with my words and actions, but I didn’t expect to tip the boat over anyway... I really meant it out of goodwill

MC: I don’t know how to comfort you, so here’s an “All the Best”!

Gavin: Do you have any objections?

Eli @ Gavin: Nope, I’ll comply with my superior’s arrangements.

Minor: I suddenly feel incomparably at peace. Did something happen?

-

[ DAY 58 ]

It does feel different eating ice-cream when the weather is cold. But it isn’t good for your stomach, so I’m confiscating half.

-

Gavin: You bought ice-cream again?

MC: Yup. Kiki recommended it this time - she says this brand’s matcha flavour is incredibly delicious!

MC: I’ve had a few bites. The feeling of eating ice-cream in autumn and summer are completely different. 

MC: It doesn’t melt as quickly, and it’s even more cooling and icy in the mouth.

Gavin: It does feel different eating ice-cream when the weather is cold. But it isn’t good for your stomach, so I’m confiscating half.

MC: (｡•́︿•̀｡)

MC: I knew you’d say that, so I only bought one stick per flavour!

MC: Officer Gavin, please show mercy...

Gavin: In that case, you can eat half of it. I’ll eat the remaining half.

MC: Tch. Is this just an excuse so you can eat it?

Gavin: What do you think?

MC: Fine...

Gavin: Wait till the weekend when I’m with you before eating it.

MC: You don’t trust me!

Gavin: It’s not that I don’t trust you. Did you forget how your stomach hurt so much last month that you couldn’t even stand?

Gavin: If you don’t listen to me again, I’ll get angry, and will no longer be your human heater.

MC: Even though that’s what you say, I know you wouldn’t do that!

MC: How could you bear to see your girlfriend feeling awful yet brush her aside!

Gavin: I care about you, but won’t indulge you. Will you listen to me obediently?

MC: Yes! I’ll solemnly carry out Officer Gavin’s instructions, and will firmly resist the temptation of ice-cream.

Gavin: Good. If you manage to perform well, the reward will be a sumptuous meal over the weekend. What do you want to eat?

MC: Really? I want to have hotpot!

Gavin: Okay. When the time comes, I’ll make a reservation in advance.

MC: Gavin is truly good, Gavin is the best, Gavin is the best boyfriend in the world!

Gavin: Cough...

Gavin: Remember not to eat ice-cream on the sly.

MC: As you command! Hotpot, here I come!

-

Fan-created Moment Post:

MC’s Post: To deal with indecisiveness, the best solution is to get one of every flavour!

Kiki: Matcha flavour! I strongly recommend the matcha flavour!

Minor: Boss, are you buying ice-cream on the sly again? Be careful of Bro Gavin’s criticisms.

MC @ Minor: He wouldn’t criticise me. He only criticises you.

-

[ DAY 59 ]

If you feel cold, you can put your hands into my pocket anytime.

-

MC: Why is it so cold this autumn! I’m prepared to snatch up a pair gloves on 11/11!

Gavin: So why were you more willing to ball your hands into little fists than to place them into my pocket?

MC: Anna and the others were around, so it'd have been so embarrassing...

Gavin: There’s no need to feel embarrassed. 

Gavin: If you feel cold, you can put your hands into my pocket anytime.

MC: My ice-cold hands are all ready. Where’s the pocket?

Gavin: I’m going for a mission soon, and I can’t leave.

MC: So it isn’t “anytime”, you big liar!

Gavin: Don’t be anxious, let me think.

Gavin: I could order you a cup of hot milk tea first. After the mission is over, I’ll look for you immediately, okay?

MC: I was just teasing you! I have a hot glass of water accompanying me right now.

MC: I know that if I don’t take good care of myself, a certain person’s heart will ache, right?

Gavin: Right.

MC: And when a certain person’s heart aches, I’ll be very upset too. So I'll definitely take care of myself!

MC: I won’t disturb you. Go do your thing, and be safe on your mission.

Gavin: Mm. After work, my pocket and I will pick you up.

MC: Okay! My hands and I will be waiting for the two of you.

-

Fan-created Moment Post:

MC: With you, every day is warm.

Minor: Summer must be pretty hot then?

MC @ Minor: @Gavin, I’m leaving him to you.

Minor: Boss, don’t do that, I was just kidding!

-

[ DAY 60 ]

This morning, I realised that the tallest tree in the city had white leaves. When I leaned over to take a look, I saw that they were white frost.

-

MC: Giving you a hug

Gavin: What happened?

MC: The weather is so cold, so it must be even colder in the sky, right?

MC: Could you promise me one thing?

Gavin: What is it?

MC: Before the weather turns warm, aside from work purposes, could you not use your Evol if you don’t have to?

MC: Even though I know that you’ll definitely take good care of yourself, there are certain times when you really neglect your health for work.

MC: I’m proud of how much you’ve achieved, but I’m even more worried about your body! Do you understand what I’m saying?

MC: I accidentally said too much. I’m such a nag, haha.

Gavin: No, I don’t find you to be a nag at all. Actually, I’m really happy.

Gavin: Thank you. Thank you for being understanding and caring for me. 

Gavin: Before, I always felt like being on my own was all right, and that I could be freer alone.

Gavin: But ever since being with you, I experienced the warmth and strength of love.

Gavin: ...this time, it’s my turn to say too much.

MC: Shouldn’t family members care for each other? I care for you because you care for me too.

Gavin: You view me as a family member?

MC: ? Weren’t we family members since a long time ago?

Gavin: Yes, I’m someone who has a family now.

MC: Gavin...

Gavin: There’s no need to worry. I'll take proper care of myself so my girl wouldn’t be distressed.

Gavin: It’s late. Rest soon, goodnight.

MC: Mm, goodnight.

-

Fan-created Moment Post:

Gavin’s Post: This morning, I realised that the tallest tree in the city had white leaves. When I leaned over to take a look, I saw that they were white frost.

Minor: It’s Frost’s Descent - Gavin, remember to keep warm.

MC @ Minor: You know what Frost’s Descent is?

MC: Next time, ride Sparky back from work. If it gets colder, we can take the train together.

-

[ DAY 61 ]

The picture you sent me yesterday wasn’t a wolf. It’s a Czechoslovakian Wolfdog - a breed of dog which is very loyal and tame.

-

[ Yesterday, 11.12pm ]

MC: 

MC: I swear that I'm not sleeping late. It’s just that my phone recommended this sticker to me, and I find it really cool.

MC: After looking at this wolf, I thought about you, so I sent it to you.

MC: There’s no need to reply, I’ve already gone to sleep!

[ Today, 12:17pm ]

Gavin: Sorry, I just saw your messages.

Gavin: The picture you sent me yesterday wasn’t a wolf. It’s a Czechoslovakian Wolfdog - a breed of dog which is very loyal and tame.

MC: Really? It looks so much like a wolf!

Gavin: That’s because it’s a hybrid between a wolf and a dog. But there are still differences.

MC: Could you tell me more?

Gavin: The main differences between the two would be their ears and tails.

Gavin: The Czechoslovakian Wolfdog’s ears are much larger than a wolf’s ears. Their tails have a curl, while wolves don’t.

MC: Which means without a reference picture, it’d be difficult to differentiate them.

Gavin: That’s right. The lines are very blurry. If there’s a reference picture, it’d be much clearer.

Gavin: But they are violent dogs, so many cities in the country prohibit rearing them. And they belong to a rare breed, so the chances of seeing them are quite low.

MC: I've got it, thank you for the lesson, Teacher Gavin.

Gavin: I sense that you’re more interested in wolves than before?

MC: That’s right, because it’s your guardian animal!

MC: As long as anything is related to you, I’m interested in it.

Gavin: Same for me.

MC: I welcome Teacher Gavin to share more of such interesting tidbits of knowledge with me.

Gavin: Mm, if it’s something I know, I’ll tell you.

MC: Okay, I’ll be an obedient and good student.

-

[ DAY 63 ]

When I was tidying the room, I found the champion prize from last year’s STF long-distance race in autumn. It’s a keychain of a running military dog.

-

MC: Are you home?

[ Today, 10:02 ]

MC: ? You aren’t back yet?

[ Today, 10:13 ]

MC: Is your phone turned off?

MC: Remember to reply when you see this - I’m waiting for you!

[ Today, 10:18 ]

Gavin: Sorry for making you worry. My phone ran out of battery. I just found the wire to charge it.

MC: It’s okay as long as you’re fine, and safe at home.

Gavin: Mm, I'm fine. Tiny Blackie dragged it underneath the sofa, so I spent a long time searching for it...

MC: Haha, was it throwing a fuss since you were only looking at your phone?

Gavin: Maybe. When I was looking for it, I made a mess out of the house. I was worried you wouldn’t be able to contact me...

MC: It’s all right. Aren't I contacting you right now?

Gavin: Next time, this wouldn’t happen again. I promise.

MC: Mm, I also promise that you’ll be able to contact me anytime.

Gavin: Oh yes. When I was tidying the room, I found the champion prize from last year’s STF long-distance race in autumn. It’s a keychain of a running military dog.

MC: You’re so amazing! You always emerge the champion in every competition. Unlike me, who can’t even run 800-metres.

Gavin: You’ve already made a large improvement. Long-distance running requires endurance, and that requires time to gradually build up.

MC: Mm. That keychain must be really cool, right?

Gavin: If you like it, I can give it to you.

MC: No need, That’s a badge of honour belonging to you.

Gavin: Silly. Whatever is mine is yours. Even I belong to you.

MC: Cough...

MC: Rest early, I’m shy (I’m not!)

Gavin: Mm, goodnight, my cute girl.

-

Fan-created Moment Post:

MC’s Post: Ah... wjzbytkx, awslzsl..., He called me..., I’m so happy!!!

Minor: Boss, has a virus entered your input system?

Gavin: That’s only if I’m considered a virus.

MC @ Gavin: Please don’t speak anymore, and let me calm down!

-

[ DAY 65 ]

I changed a new driving playlist recently. Those songs you recommended - I like them very much.

-

MC: Knock knock knock, is Student Gavin there?

Gavin: Here.

MC: Could I ask Student Gavin if he wishes to eat little cakes made by me?

Gavin: Yes.

MC: What? I can’t sense Student Gavin’s enthusiasm! (please type a few more words!)

Gavin: Mm, I really want to eat the little cakes you make.

Gavin: What made you think of making them?

MC: Today, Anna brought little lemon cakes she made, and I thought they were really delicious.

MC: So I asked her how to make them, and am planning to make them for you over the weekend.

Gavin: Sure. In that case, we’ll buy the ingredients together during the weekend.

MC: I’ll warn you in advance - don’t harbour high expectations, because Anna mentioned that there’s some difficulty involved, and you know that I...

Gavin: It’s okay, we’ll make them together.

MC: Is there a difference if the two of us do it together?

Gavin: Mm... doesn’t seem so.

MC: Haha, so what if our cooking skills are poor? We have self-awareness!

Gavin: Oh yes, I changed a new driving playlist recently. Those songs you recommended - I like them very much.

MC: Do you have the song “Running with the Wind”?

Gavin: Mm, yes.

MC: Haha, I can kind of picture it.

MC: I heard a new song yesterday. When I heard it, I thought of you, so I’ll send you a link.

MC: -sends link to a song called “Chasing the Wind”-

Gavin: Okay, I’ve received it.

MC: Remember not to turn the volume up too loudly while driving.

Gavin: All right, I'll take note.

-

Fan-created Moment Post:

Gavin’s Post: I think of you when I hear the songs you recommended.

MC: Be safe! (incredibly loudly)

Gavin @ MC: Got it. (incredibly loudly)

-

[ DAY 66 ]

In the movie we watched yesterday, I keep thinking that werewolves are even more dashing and decisive than vampires.

-

MC: How was it? Did you manage to coax the kid into being happy?

Gavin: Don’t bring it up - it was even more tiring than being out on a mission.

MC: Haha, the stories didn’t work? I really loved listening to them when I was young.

MC: Also, with such a dashing Big Brother telling her stories, why wasn't she happy?

MC: If I were here, I’d definitely be overjoyed.

Gavin: Maybe I didn't put in enough emotions when telling the story. In the end, a colleague brought candy over to coax her.

MC: As expected, no matter how old a person is, they are defenceless against delicacies.

Gavin: Do you want to hear it? If you do, I could tell it to you.

MC: Sure!

Gavin: Are you done with work?

MC: Mm, I’m slacking a little and reading the reviews for the movie we watched yesterday.

MC: Vampires can teleport, influence emotions, and can even read minds. They’re so cool

Gavin: But I think werewolves are even more dashing and decisive than vampires.

MC: That’s because you’re a werewolf too!

Gavin: What?

MC: I meant in the way you’re very incredible, dashing and decisive.

Gavin: But I’m neither dashing nor decisive when faced with kids.

MC: Haha, that’s all right. Everyone has areas they aren’t good at, so don’t take it to heart.

Gavin: Mm. Do we have any plans for Halloween?

MC: Could we not eat pumpkins this year?

Gavin: Mm, looks like the pumpkin dinner last year left a large psychological shadow on you.

MC: It’s normal to get tired of something when you’ve had too much of it. This is called the Law of Diminishing Marginal Utility. 

Gavin: Does this mean you’ll get tired if you stay with me for long?

MC: Do you have to rake up that incident which happened such a long time ago!

Gavin: No, I was just joking with you.

MC: Haha, you’ve learnt how to crack jokes?

Gavin: Yes, I learnt it from you.

MC: Please pay the school fees, Student.

Gavin: School fees? Could I use a story to get a discount?

MC: You can. In that case, I want to hear a unique story.

Gavin: That’s quite difficult for me. But I’ll give it serious thought.

Gavin: Mm, I just need to practice for a while.

MC: Practice? What for?

Gavin: I’ll need to tell it to our kids in the future

MC: Why are you suddenly bringing up our kids?

MC: I can’t talk anymore, I’ve got to resume filming.

Gavin: Okay, I’ll practice on my own then.

-

Fan-created Weibo Post:

Gavin’s Post: Question: How should one tell a story in order for a kid to like listening to it? (If the answer is effective, you’ll get an additional day of rest this month)

Eli: Old Gav has finally attained enlightenment. I’ll talk to you via PM!

Tang Chao: Leader, I’ve sent the answer via message!

Auntie from the Canteen: They aren’t even married yet. Listen to what Auntie says.

My Girl: ...you don’t have to be so serious about it!

-

[ DAY 67 ]

My phone is spoilt. It’s a good thing I can memorise your e-mail, and didn’t miss the sign-in.

-

MC: Haha, since you can’t use your messaging app today, I shall leave some doodles here.

MC: I’ll draw a small ugly wolf here - ^•ェ•^

MC: And here, an adorable little rabbit - ∩•ω•*∩

MC: I’ll add a clove. Hmm... how can I make a clove?

MC: Forget it, I’ll just add a Pearly - (•<>•)

MC: Finally, just to conclude, I feel a little silly today. Even though I know you’ll contact me soon...

MC: But I can’t help but say...

MC: I miss you. 

-

[ DAY 70 ]

It’s too cold to eat watermelons during this season. I bought cantaloupes and have placed them in the fridge. Remember to eat them.

-

Gavin: It’s too cold to eat watermelons during this season. I bought a cantaloupe and have placed it in the fridge. Remember to eat it.

MC: Which one is heavier - a kilogram of iron or a kilogram of cotton?

Gavin: They’re the same weight.

MC: So why would a watermelon be colder than a cantaloupe if they’re both in the fridge?

Gavin: ...putting it into the fridge preserves its freshness. When eating it, you have to leave it out till it becomes room temperature.

MC: So a watermelon is colder even at room temperature?

Gavin: Aren’t fruits with higher water content usually colder than fruits with lower water content?

MC: Is that so? Watermelons have a 94% water content and ranks No. 1. Cantaloupes have a 90% water content, and ranks No. 4.

MC: There isn't much difference.

MC: Based on such logic, drinking room temperature water is even colder.

Gavin: ...if you want to eat watermelons, I can buy one for you in the afternoon.

MC: Did I place importance on the wrong thing? The important thing is someone’s meticulous care, right? 

MC: Don’t worry, I know how well you treat me.

Gavin: So do you still want to eat a watermelon?

MC: Nope, my Gavin says watermelons are cold.

Gavin: It’s all right. If you really want to eat it, you can just eat less.

MC: it can wait till the cantaloupes have been eaten. Could you come over to eat them with me after work?

Gavin: What’s wrong? Did I buy too many?

MC: Because it’d be even warmer with you by my side! When I eat it, it wouldn’t be as cold.

Gavin: Cough. Okay, I’ll pick you up after work.

-

Fan-created Moment Post:

Gavin’s Post: How good you are to me - I know it very clearly.

MC: Are you referring to me? Are you referring to me?

Gavin @ MC: It’s you, it’s you.

-

[ DAY 71 ]

After the door locked, I realised that I didn’t bring my keys. I never thought that I’d have my forgetful moments too. It’s a good thing the windows weren’t locked.

-

Gavin: Something pretty new happened today.

MC: What is it?

Gavin: After the door locked, I realised that I didn’t bring my keys. I never thought that I’d have my forgetful moments too.

MC: In that case, do you want to come over to my place for now?

Gavin: It’s a good thing the windows weren’t locked.

Gavin: ...

MC: That’s good! I even wanted to call the locksmith for you.

MC: But it’s been so cold recently. it’s better to close the windows at night, or you might catch a cold.

Gavin: Hearing what you just said, I’m not very sure if I locked the windows. Maybe I locked them because of the falling temperatures.

MC: Take a look after work then.

Gavin: ...okay.

[ Today, 12:33 ]

Gavin: What if it’s locked?

MC: Find a locksmith!

Gavin: ...got it.

[ Today, 12:40 ]

Gavin: I suddenly remembered that I need to head out for a mission today, so it might be very late by the time I return. Would the locksmith still be open?

MC: They’re usually open for business around the clock. Hold on, I’ll send you the phone number of the locksmith who helped me previously.

MC: 07295287

MC: What’s up with you today? Did you skip breakfast? You seem a little dazed?

Gavin: ...

MC: Sorry, I didn’t mean anything by that.

MC: I just think you’re a little different today. How could you have forgotten such a habitual thing?

Gavin: It’s nothing much.

MC: There’s something off about your mood.

Gavin: There’s really nothing.

MC: Okay...

MC: In that case, you should come over to my place later.

MC: It’d be so late when you return. By the time the locksmith arrives, you’ll be frozen. We’ll handle it tomorrow, okay?

Gavin: I’ll be fine.

MC: If you don’t listen to me, I’ll get angry!

Gavin: Okay, don’t be mad. I’ll listen to you.

MC: Mm, be safe at work, and see you tonight.

Gavin: See you tonight. 

-

Fan-created Weibo Post:

Eli’s Post: A certain someone is bursting with joy today, and even smiled at me!!! What happened? Oh no, did I make a mistake?

Tang Chao: Relax, Captain Eli. It has nothing to do with you.

Eli @ Tang Chao: I can rest assured then. What’s up with him?

Tang Chao @ Eli: Don’t probe any further, I’m afraid of getting slaughtered!

-

[ DAY 72 ]

I’ve familiarised myself with the technique of cutting bunny apple slices. Next time, I’ll show it to you.

-

Gavin: I’ve familiarised myself with the technique of cutting bunny apple slices. Next time, I’ll show it to you.

[ Today, 12:02pm ]

Gavin: What’s wrong, are you busy?

[ Today, 12:06pm ]

Gavin: Why aren’t you picking up? Did something happen?

Gavin: Call me when you see this.

MC: I’m busy now. My darling is amazing. I’ll call you later. 

Gavin: Who are you?

Gavin: I’m warning you. No matter how you obtained her account number, I have my ways of tracking you down.

MC: Sorry Gavin, something cropped up earlier. I’m sending a client out, so I can’t call you right now.

MC: It’s really me, my account hasn’t been stolen, and I’m very safe. I’ll explain more later. I’ll take around 10 minutes at most. Trust me, okay?

Gavin: Okay.

[ Today, 12:12pm ]

MC: Sorry! I made you worry. I didn't do it on purpose... don’t be mad.

Gavin: So what happened?

MC: I was tidying up some files earlier for the client.

MC: Minor and the others had my phone to check some meeting records. He said you sent a message, and that you sounded very anxious and worried.

MC: So I told him to reply based what I said. I didn't think that...

Gavin: You said that?

MC: Nope. My original words were “I’m busy now. Gavin is amazing...”

Gavin: ...got it.

MC: Don’t blame him, he didn’t mean it.

MC: He explained it to me, and said...

Gavin: What did he say?

MC: He said he didn’t expect people who are dating to not call each other “my darling”...

Gavin: Cough, sorry.

MC: Why the sudden apology?

Gavin: I’ve never noticed such things. If you want to hear it next time...

Gavin: I could call you that too.

MC: Really? Let me hear it now then.

Gavin: Now?

MC: You just said you could it. Not even half a minute has passed and you’re already going back on your word?

Gavin: No, I just...

MC: All right, I was just teasing you. I really like how you call me “My Girl”, “Little Lamb” and other pet names.

MC: They are unique, and filled with your affection and feelings.

MC: So there’s no need to force yourself to say something you don’t want to.

Gavin: It’s not that I don’t want to. My thoughts are the same as yours. I find them more unique, and better representations of us.

MC: So this misunderstanding has been cleared up, right?

Gavin: Yes.

MC: In that case, I’ll start looking forward to your bunny apple cutting skills this weekend. 

Gavin: There’s no need to wait till the weekend. I can do it now. Look outside the window.

-

Fan-created Moment Post:

MC: A certain up-and-rising cutting master’s little bunny apples - they’re amazing, aren’t they!

[words in the pink rectangle: picture of the bunny apples Gavin had cut]

Minor: That’s incredible! As expected of my Bro Gavin, the perfect man.

MC @ Minor: Relax, he doesn’t blame you. There’s no need to curry favour with him.

Minor @ MC: Thanks Sis-in-law! I can live on!

-

[ DAY 74 ]

Found a puppy stuffed toy while tidying up, and thought about how it’s been a very long time since we last went to the claw machine together.

-

MC: A new mall opened near my office recently, and there’s a very delicious ramen shop. Next time, I’ll bring you there to eat.

Gavin: Okay.

MC: There’s even a games arcade on the third floor of the mall. We can play together too.

Gavin: Speaking of games arcades, I found a puppy stuffed toy while tidying up, and thought about how it’s been a very long time since we last went to the claw machine together.

MC: I'm free.

Gavin: What did you say?

MC: I said that I’m free this weekend. Aren’t you asking me out?

Gavin: Okay, then we’ll go this weekend, and can also eat at that ramen shop you mentioned.

MC: Sure, but I really didn’t expect that!

Gavin: Didn’t expect what?

MC: I always thought you were a cool and dashing man who only liked drag racing and boxing.

MC: I didn’t think you’d have childish hobbies like roller coasters and claw machines.

Gavin: I’m not the one who wanted to ride the roller coaster...

MC: But you brought up the claw machine yourself, didn’t you?

MC: Don’t worry. No matter what you like, it wouldn’t change your perfect image in my heart. 

Gavin: The important thing isn’t the claw machine, it’s...

MC: The important thing is eating ramen?

Gavin: The important thing is being together. Being together - do you understand?

MC: I understand.

MC: Are you angry?

Gavin: No.

MC: I can tell when you’re angry or not.

Gavin: I’m really not angry.

MC: I know that you aren’t angry, but you’re not very happy either.

MC: My darling. I’m calling you “My darling”, okay? ps: My phone hasn’t been stolen! This isn’t Minor either!

MC: Or you could tell me what I need to do to make you happy.

Gavin: Go out with me, and free up your weekend for me.

MC: Okay! I’ll be with you, and my weekend will be entirely for you.

MC: Are you happy now?

Gavin: I really don’t know what to do with you

MC: That means you’re happy! Relax, I’ll stick to you the entire weekend, so you can’t toss me aside even if you wanted to!

Gavin: You said it yourself, so you’re not allowed to go back on it.

MC: When have I ever gone back on my word?

Gavin: Who was the one who asked if we could have ice-cream yesterday?

MC: Cough, that was... that was...

Gavin: Was what?

MC: I can’t find an excuse, so what?

Gavin: So what? I can only pamper you. 

MC: Look out of the window.

Gavin: To look at the stars?

MC: Can you see that my smile has reached the solar system?

Gavin: Mm, I see it. Want me to bring it back for you?

MC: No need, I’ll leave it up there to spend the night today.

Gavin: In that case, need me to cover it with a blanket? It might catch a cold that high up.

MC: Haha, stop messing around. Rest early, and see you tomorrow.

Gavin: Mm, see you tomorrow. Goodnight. 

-

Fan-created Moment Post:

Gavin’s Post: Someone said she’d stick to me over the weekend, so I'm including this picture as proof (don’t worry, only you can see it)

MC: I won’t go back on my word!

Gavin @ MC: Silly, I’m keeping it as a souvenir.

-

[ DAY 79 ]

Eli and the guys said they didn’t want to see me hovering around in STF today. How baffling. So, I’m here to see you.

-

Gavin: Want to drink milk tea? I can bring it over to you.

MC: ? You’ll be passing by my office during a mission?

Gavin: No, Eli and the guys said they didn’t want to see me hovering around in STF today. How baffling. So, I’m here to see you.

MC: Has your phone been stolen?

Gavin: No, it’s me. 

MC: No way! STF members listen to the Commander’s instructions. When does the Commander listen to them?

Gavin: ...there are times when I need to consider my subordinates’ moods.

MC: I still don’t believe it’s you.

MC: Question: When we cooked for the first time, what happened?

Gavin: I burnt the pot...

MC: It’s really you!

Gavin: ...couldn’t you have asked about something else?

MC: It was the first thing I could think of - maybe the impression was pretty deep, haha.

MC: Want me to give Eli a call to ask what exactly is going on?

Gavin: No need, it’s really nothing.

MC: What do you mean by “nothing”? You were chased out for no reason, and you aren’t angry about it. And you even left?

Gavin: How should I have reacted then?

MC: By slamming the desk harshly, then pointing at them before saying, “I’ll give you another chance. Repeat what you just said.”

Gavin: In your eyes, am I like that?

MC: Am I wrong?

Gavin: ...not entirely.

MC: All right, since you don’t want to elaborate further, I won’t probe more either. I trust that you can handle it.

MC: Come over. I’ll comfort and protect you.

Gavin: Okay.

Gavin: Is your shopping cart ready?

MC: I’m still deciding between two outfits.

Gavin: Just get them both.

MC: No need, the two outfits are very similar! Help me pick one!

Gavin: Okay, I’m already downstairs.

-

Day 80: here

-

[ Permission to translate ]

夏月_mleila: Sure, of course you can. Thank you for liking it. I also wish for more people to see them

[rosesmith18]

(PnF) Headcanon #11 Thomarie Nitpicks #2 Pt.1 Clothing

This is sort of a sister post to post #6 & #7, it mentions characters from post #6, and is connected to my current series of post about the problems I have with the MnT(Marie and Thomas) Universe. I want to make it clear that I like these characters...to an extent, but to another extent I don't. I want the best for them as they were a big part of my childhood, and so in this post I want to make some tweaks to their clothing and personalities, as I find them currently sporadic and dated.

*Disclaimer: The MnT Universe is centered around (OC)Maria Flynn & (OC)Thomas Fletcher. Marie belongs to angelus19 & sam-ely-ember deviantart. Thomas Belongs to Melty64.

Maria's Child Clothing: Okay, so a lot of people have made the claim that Maria's design is generic which I will not deny. It's a blatant ripe off of her mothers clothes with a change of color palette, and while I enjoy the idea of Phineas designing her clothes to be that way, it's a waste of potential(as are most things I will mention in this post). Maria canonically adores France, and in my headcanon was born there, so I think some Parisian style could be added to this design. I'd draw instead of writing about this, but I have no artistic talent. For starters, based on my research(as I myself am not French)puffed sleeves are a common occurrence in French clothing culture, so giving Marie puffed sleeves in place of her mothers regular ones would be nice. Instead of basic shoes, ankle boots are also a common item in French clothing followed by white and/or black tights. Now, ironically enough the style of belt Isabella has on her clothes is similar to a French Skinny belt called a Maison Boinet, so just change it from being one color to a light brown with a metal clip, and it can stay-as can the main outfit. Lastly, to quote https://leoncechenal.com/french-girl-style-guide/ 'And I think the ultimate goal of all French girls is to find their own style (what they like and what they don’t) and to stick to it.', so in summary this doesn't need to look perfect or fancy it just needs to look natural.

Maria's Teen Clothing: Okay, this one is even worse in my opinion, but the whole one color thing is killing me! So, for this I did a COMPLETE recall and came up with this; A purple beret, orange bow wrapped around her neck mimicking a Parisian scarf, dressed in an orange & purple horizontal striped sweater dress that hangs off her shoulders, and a pair of black single buckle ballet flats. She would have a gold chain-link belt to replace her Maison Boinet one, a cameo necklace of the Virgin Mary, and a gold choker with small bells. Based on my research actual Beret's aren't that common in French culture anymore, though ironically striped shirts and dresses are, but Marie's is canonically the one her mother wore in the episode 'Summer Belongs to You' and familial connection is super important to Maria-so I decided to keep it. I kept her Garcia-Shapiro bow as I am appalled they tried to get rid of Isabella's in AYA(Act your Age)! Vivian clearly still has her from when she was young, and I believe every Garcia-Shapiro who wants one should keep them to some extent throughout their life! Off shoulder tops and dresses are pretty common in France as are sweaters, so I gave Maria an off shoulder sweater dress. And, ballet flats are some of the most common footwear for woman in  France, they have many styles like the single buckle that don't actually look like ballet flats we American's would usually associate with ballet. The jewelry wore by French woman is wore all the time, and is rarely below the quality of 10-carrot gold. Layering necklaces of different sizes such as a cameo necklaces and a choker is normal, and chain-link belts are considered appropriate for any and every outfit. Chokers are a bit longer than some might expect them to be, and I went with a cameo necklace of the Virgin Mary as I headcanon Maria to be a serious Jew. Lastly, make-up in the French world is some of the most neutral in color and shade, so I gave Maria a soft pink lip and nose bridge blush at best.

Thomas' Child Clothing: I heavily dislike Thomas' child design. It lacks any personality in my opinion when compared to Ferbs or Vanessa's. I appreciate that it isn't a ripe off like Marie's, but that doesn't make it good or interesting. Also, this ties into my biggest problem with Thomas, but he's too...boyish. There is nothing wrong with having a practically boyish character, but that kind of personality and style is better used on a character intended to be boyish, and not characters who happen to be boys. I mean Thomas is the son of one of the most headcanon'd nonbinary characters in the whole show, and one of the most headcanon'd bisexual's in the whole show. This is why I mentioned these characters being a bit dated. They definitely came out before LGBTQ+ representation became popular in the fandom-at least compared to the extent of today. So, for Thomas I want to propose a few heavy changes to his child design, starting with...SKIRTS. I petition Thomas to have an either black & white(or purple and green), plaid skirt that reaches his knees. This style of skirt is popular in both British and German(Drusselstein) clothing culture, and is something his family would so support! I mean the potential Thomas has for normalizing clothing as gender neutral is being completely wasted! A white polo shirt inspired by his fathers and his original design underneath. A tweed blazer-of the same color scheme-which is considered always in style in Britain, and the Haferlschuh which are the most popular type of shoe found in Germany-and suit any outfit. Add some tracht socks in white and you have the perfect style!

Thomas' Teen Clothing: This design wasn't horrible, I actually quite like the overall vibe it was going for, but it's not specific enough. I don't find this design to be more than a vibe; It doesn't go deeper than that when it could. So, I summarized it into this; Ripped up, leather pants, sleeveless, white turtleneck, high-heeled, black boots, and to top it all off a trench coat and leather satchel. Considering Thomas is the lead singer and bass guitarist for a classic/heavy rock band I think some ripped leather pants with a bell bottom are perfect. I kept the sleeveless, white classic turtleneck that came from his original design as I do think it's appropriate. I also wanted to pay homage to his mothers almost iconic heels by giving Thomas a similar pair himself; A pair of black, over the knee boots, with a stiletto heel. The trench coat MADE his original design, and the traditional leather satchel is a perfect accent to it, both are British classics in the world of fashion.

Thomas' Rock Outfit: I'm added a subsection for Thomas' clothes as we NEED to talk about his band outfit. I want to say this first, I don't like the original name for the band. Clair is a generic name that doesn't sound too rock-ish in my opinion. It's supposed to represent Maria as it is a French girls name, but it's too simple for someone like Thomas. So, I changed it to Église des Gémeaux which represents Maria in more ways. The name literally translate to Church of Gemini from French to English. It represents Maria's French heritage, her connection to her Jewish Religious roots, and contains a reference to her birth month of June-her birth sign Gemini. The band in itself is canonically represented by The Spill Canvas which is an American Alternative rock band which I also changed. I gave the band a more Eisbrecher/Queen style as Thomas is German(Drusselstein)/British. Eisbrecher is a German Neue Deutsche Härte rock band(translating to New German Hardness aka Industrial Rock), and most of us know Queen the British rock band known for helping to start the rock genre making them a Classic rock band. Major headcanon to this band I want to add, Thomas primarily sings in German(Drusselstein) as he himself has a heavy German(Drusselstein)/British accent. His canonical outfit is a leather top similar to his mothers teenage attire, some basic jeans, and some black boots. I have rewritten this design as such; Ripped up, bell bottom, leather pants, long-sleeve, purple, deep V-neck top, covered by a studded, leather jacket, and keeping his pair of black, over the knee boots, with a stiletto heel. Accent this outfit with some studded, leather cuff bracelets, silver chain choker, and industrial piercing as well as some crescent moon 2nd/Upper lobe piercings. Now, the style of rock/punk is highly personal and changes heavily from generation to generation, but as someone whose family is highly involved in the antique business; It can be expected that Thomas would have a classic rock style inspired by the band he loves such as Eisbrecher, Queen, The Rolling Stones, Mozart L'Opéra rock, Amon Düül II, etc. Some of the elements of his outfit repeat such as his pants and heels, though his deep V-neck is inspired by a picture of Queen. His studded jacket is inspired by MANY rockers of the past. And, his jewelry has a very punk aesthetic. His make-up can be expected to be heavy with intense eyeliner, mascaras, and aided with a plum lip to match his V-neck. While I do enjoy the Grunge style take for Fred & Xavier; I personally find it underwhelming for someone such as Thomas.

I'll end the post here for now as it's getting pretty long. I'll make a post about personality changes at a later point(likely my next post). If you have any questions, comments, etc about what changes I've made feel free to share them! If you have any expertise with French, German, British, or Rock attire and believe I've been misinformed than please tell me! I remind you I am not an expert on fashion, character design, and am only aware of American trends. These changes are entire based on what knowledge is available to me, and my own personal feelings about clothes and characters, but I'm open to learning! I apologize if my opinions come off as harsh, I am merely opinionated about things I enjoy, but I hold no ill-will towards anyone who thinks differently. At the end of the day, I don't own Marie or Thomas or Phineas and Ferb, and am merely expressing my freedom to make or suggest changes. I encourage anyone reading this post to do the same, and be has intense as you feel, of course WITHOUT being insulting of the people you disagree with. Thank you!

[voidsaber]

swanto - downfall (nightclub)??? ;👀👀👀

ALRIGHT SO. (i’m grinning just thinking about this stupid au). This all started like nearly 2 years ago when my coworker invited me to go to a club with them. I’d never been to a club before (not my scene and with experience still isn’t). So I go home at a reasonable morning hour but I can’t get to sleep cause on the way back my brain is full of Eli/Cygni brainrot with the silliest idea that basically. what if Eli was undercover in a nightclub (because fanfic plot reasons). And Cygni was there. and then they flirt and hook up. and that was meant to be it. that was the plot. i just wanted random cute one-shot swantos.

and then my brain made angst happen by giving thrawn a bigger role and slapping in some one-sided thranto. so then the fic kept going and we have thrawn meeting eli in the hotel the next morning and being Concerned but also jealous and hurt. and so thrawn confesses he’s got feelings for Eli but eli basically has none of it cause he’s kinda fed up with the manipulation schtick. in this au Pryce and Thrawn never meet and thus never help one another and so eli is stuck as an ensign and we get a lot of thranto angst and possibly some very vindictive space cowboy. it was initally titled “nightclub au” for ages before I gave it the temp. name of “downfall”. I have a playlist for this au also. i just checked and there are 18k words i don’t remember writing all of :’) it’s really fun writing eli/cygni interactions with cygni being a lil snarky and eli getting riled up but also getting snarky right back at him. and also being soft n cute. and also thrawn just pining really hard. and also eli’s frustration at a stagnated career path.

uhhh select snippets under the cut?

- - -

Cygni shrugged. "Spice, Dust, people... not my modus operandi."

"And I'm to believe you?"

"I told you - I'm in no position to lie. Besides, why would I? Is it that difficult to believe I'm not keen on those who profit off of the stuff? I've seen what it does to people. And I'm just me tonight."

"Just 'you'?" A flat statement more than a question. He didn't understand Cygni's words.

"Yes." The damn smirk was equal parts infuriating and attractive and infuriatingly attractive. Clearly there was a punchline he wasn't getting. Whatever. Eli pushed it aside, not caring for games. He cleared his throat.

"So," Eli ventured. "Whatever you're doing, it's not some kind of play. Or trap."

"Of course not. How would I even know you were to be here tonight?" Cygni smiled wryly. "You think if I knew I would show up, considering our previous encounter?"

"No. I don't think you'd be that bold. Or that stupid."

Cygni snorted from across the table. "Well, I'm glad you think so, at least. I'd say we're getting along just fine, wouldn't you?"

-

(at the hotel)

He watched as Cygni shuffled backwards to sit cross-legged on the wide bed. He followed suit and made himself comfortable facing him. The way he leant back and propped himself on his hands was very appealing. Eli let his gaze wander, down along the scrunched creases of his shirt at the shoulder, his arms, a little more muscular than he'd first thought, pale scars catching on his dark skin that gave Eli a twinge of cold uneasy recognition, of remembrance, and to those solid hands that had felt so good on his scalp. He dropped lower down to the drape of his shirt - really if he'd wanted to blend in at the venue he could have worn something a little more... exciting - past the strained fabric of his trousers, nicely fitting, quite tight, actually, and a strange blue-green colour that Eli wasn't sure blended well whatsoever with the pale shirt or dark skin but really he was just focussed on the want for their absence; and then with rising heat down elsewhere, to Cygni's feet. Eli suddenly felt very strange for wearing his shoes whilst on the bed. He gulped, getting back to the matter at hand - that being the growing desire inside of him for the man before him. He raked his eyes back up to Cygni's wry grin, though not entirely free of tension.

He must've had a strange expression on his face because Cygni spoke up in a jovial tone. "Not going to try and weasel some information out of me are you, Vanto?"

Eli huffed quietly, tension lifting. "As if you'd fall for that. And it's Eli," he said, and leant forward to kiss him again. "You can call me Eli."

-

(thrawn confronting eli the morning after. which is very rude of him)

"You are well aware it is against protocol--"

"I know, sir," Eli muttered, pained.

"--and more so it was unwise. There is conduct to follow, Ensign."

Eli flinched. He knew better than to try answering that.

"However, I do not expect any individual to solely rid themselves of any desires they have. As you said, the path of duty can oft impede or interrupt chances at proper rest or indeed.. indulgence. What I wish to understand is that it seems there are those on the Thunder Wasp who would respond positively from such an advance from yourself, and despite regulations I see no reason why you could not engage in sexual activity with those you wish to, whoever they may be,//such colleagues albeit within appropriate timeframes, provided it does not impact your work. Yet you have chosen to ignore this in favour of a different party. I do, of course, notice these things."

Gods what the fucking weirdest thing Thrawn was saying.

"Oh yeah," Eli replied sarcastically, unable to help it now. "I'm sure the Empire’s finest are dying to get a shot at screwing a Wild Space hick who barely made the cut at the Royal Academy and is getting such special treatment – all for being bilingual. Care to name a few?”

"I myself, am one such example."

"What."

-

(after thrawn and eli’s fallout)

Oh right - Thrawn was talking to him. Of course he was. And didn't seem to care that Eli wasn't listening. It's not like he wouldn't notice. He just expected Eli to pay attention to him. Like usual, he expected Eli to give him every waking moment. No time to think for himself, about himself, lest it lead to foolishness.

"Sir?" Eli said bitterly. All of this clamouring in his head was driving him mad. He felt sick. He couldn't remember half of what he'd been driving round and round in his skull, and from the rest of it he couldn't tell if it was his own spiteful hyperbole or if it was truthful. He didn't know which was worse.

A small flicker of something crossed Thrawn's impeccable features. Eli didn't know and didn't care what. He supposed he should. He paid attention. "I was suggesting, Ensign, that you be taken as ill. I have noticed your demeanour becoming--" he paused. muttered something, or maybe just mouthed it. Eli was frowning at him, hardly trying to stop himself, and could see the word was Sy Bisti. Still on translation duty after all these years. Only useful because it wasn't worth the hour programming a droid. Eli's existence could be quantified in a measly number of credits in that regard. And yet he hadn't even bothered to say the word, to ask Eli for that translation. Was he trying to be nice, or polite? What a first. Or maybe he wasn't even worth that anymore.

-

tldr: what if... we hooked up in a nightclub while i was undercover on a mission... and the encounter really gets to some hidden emotional part of me for reasons unknown... and then it turned out my commanding officer has been madly in love with me the whole time but my head’s too busy with whatever spell you put on me when we had sex that one time to even look his way... haha jk.... unless..?

[thedistantstorm]

Project Compass 02

Read Along on AO3 Here

<< Previous Chapter <<     >> Next Chapter >>

This time: Ezra spends some quality time with his new commanding officer and learns a little about the Chiss.

Next time: Thrawn is visited by Vah’nya and exchanges a handful of words with Eli. Ezra senses something in the Force.

-/

“Alright,” Ezra began, the moment the door to the suite shut behind them, “What the kriff is going on here?”

The suite itself was minimal and compact. A small common space with a worktable and charging stations for datapads and electronics, an economy sized fresher that was likely nicer than anything the young Jedi had ever had access to, and two small but separate sleeping quarters. It was clearly designed with a use similar to theirs in mind, but perhaps one that was more political in origin. Plenty of officials had aides and secretaries that lived hardly an arm’s length away.

“You’ll have to ask a more pointed question than that,” Thrawn indulged him instead of remaining silent as he wanted to. He needed time to work through this, and there wasn’t a singular painting that would help him make sense of any of it. His primary objective at this juncture was to keep Ezra relatively happy while integrating him with Chiss standards - most of which he fell short of, sloppy and unregimented from his time with the Rebellion.

“Fine.” Ezra dropped to the small sofa, sitting on the end furthest from the door. “Why are they punishing you?”

Blinking once, Thrawn asked another question in hopes of getting more of the younger man's perspective rather than admitting that he too was at a loss. “You do not agree with their judgement?”

“It’s not that. What you did was wrong,” He lingered on the word for emphasis. “But you explained it to me. I don’t have any reason to believe you were lying and I kinda have a way to fact check, even if you’re more difficult to get a read on than most. Plus,” He gestured between them, “You could have killed me plenty of times.”

“As you could also could assassinate me with ease, even now.”

“Not the point.” Ezra frowned. “I’m here because you asked me to be. You’re not-” He exhaled, clearly put out. “I’m only going to say this once, so savor this moment.” He made sure to hold Thrawn’s intense gaze. “You’re the most intelligent person I’ve ever met. You see things that take me eons to figure out, even with the Force to guide you. Sure, you made mistakes, but this is a waste. You should be in command.”

“Perhaps someday, I will be again.”

“You said that threats to your people were serious. That the Ascendancy was in extreme danger.”

“That is correct.”

“So…" He held his hands out as if Thrawn's words were something he could carry. "Why are we here together? What good can you do stuck here, babysitting me?" Ezra shrugged. "You know? Kallus always said they stuck people out of the way in 'menial tasks,'" He airquoted, rolling his eyes. "So-"

“The Chiss are not the same as the Galactic Empire.”

“Yeah, I’ve noticed.” Ezra tilted his head, inquisitive. “They don’t seem too bad. A little stuffy, but not unnecessarily cruel. Though the child soldier thing bothers me.”

“The Force does not manifest the same.”

“I remember,” Ezra said. "And the kids here seem to like what they're doing.”

“They take their duties very seriously,” Thrawn answered, stepping easily into the segue as their conversation was not worth continuing. “As should we. The Chiss do not sleep as much as humans, as I am sure you know from our time together. You should rest while you can. We will have a long day ahead of us tomorrow.”

“Me, yes, you, no. The Captain said I can shadow him. He’ll be able to translate so I won’t need you to accompany me until the afternoon.” Ezra shrugged. “He said instructions would be sent to our datapads.”

Thrawn retrieved his, noticing that yes, there was a notification present, a tiny indicator light flashing with the news. He scanned it quickly. He was under no obligation to report for duty until mid-afternoon, just as Ezra had said. “And in the afternoon we will be tested.”

“Great,” Ezra deadpanned. “Just great.”

“The Ascendancy has high standards, Bridger.”

“I'm realizing that. Which is why I can’t tell if it’s pride or if they really think you messed up that you’re stuck catering to me. You’re a Grand Admiral. You outrank that Ar-whoever-”

“Admiral Ar’alani,” Thrawn corrected. “Should you make that mistake in her presence you will regret it.”

“Yeah, yeah,” Ezra remained casual despite it. “You’re still-”

“In the Imperial Navy, perhaps. I was a Commander in the Chiss Fleet before I was sent to the Empire. I am not an Admiral here.”

“Yeah, but-”

“My ranking in the Imperial hierarchy is no longer relevant.” Thrawn glared at him. “My actions, however, are.”

“Agreed,” Ezra turned the conversation back to the previous topic. “By that logic, shouldn’t the Chiss want to turn you loose on your enemies? You know how to pick apart your opponents. Captain Ivant could be my translator instead and they could use you more effectively. I mean, he seems to work pretty closely with the Jedi - I mean, with the Skywalkers,” He corrected himself, trying to use the correct term. “He’s the one teaching the Navigators basic. The little girl, Un’hee, I think? She told me so while we were waiting for you on the shuttle.”

There was no reply. Thrawn turned sharply and went into the room that had his name in Chiss script projected above the biometric entry sensor without so much as a goodnight. The door closed behind him with a hydraulic hiss of finality. Ezra stayed rooted to the spot, staring at the closed door for a long moment.

"Was it something I said?" He asked the empty room.

-/

Un'hee retrieved him ten minutes before they were to meet the Captain in his office. She had a bounce in her step that she had lacked the previous day. He learned during their walk over that she was the youngest Navigator on board at eight years old, but that she had served the Ascendancy for a little more than three years. Her dark blue black hair shows mostly black under the ship's lighting. It's threaded into a simple braid that trails halfway down her back.

Together, they knock on Captain Ivant's door and step back, waiting for him to answer.

"Good morning, Eli!" The girl said in Basic that was bright and almost completely lacking in the Chiss accent.

The twang of Ivant's accent was far stronger, worn and lived in. "Good morning," He bid them both before addressing the Chiss in her native tongue.

"I am to join the other Navigators for the morning meal and our studies," She translated for Ezra's benefit. "I hope I will meet you for our evening meal?"

Ezra looked to Ivant, who nodded. "After his testing, I'm sure that can be arranged. He'll be hungry."

Un'hee smiled brightly, dipping in what almost appeared like a curtsey, but was incredibly subdued. "Until then, Ezra'Bridger."

The door closed behind her and only once she left did Ivant motion for Ezra to join him. He did not sit behind the desk, though. Instead, he went to a worktable, a more even space.

"I asked the cooks to bring our morning meal to us," He said, gesturing for Ezra to sit. "I figured you would have questions, and it would be best to address those before I take you around to see the ship and our crew." He paused. "I wasn't sure how much you knew about the Chiss, considering," He leaned back in his chair, at ease, "So I figured some informal education on what to expect might help you with what you face later today."

Ezra frowned. "Thrawn told me a bit," He replied, hesitantly defensive. Sure, there was no love lost between them, but their fragile arrangement was born of respect, for the most part. Ezra respected Thrawn's ridiculous genius as much as he was infuriated by it, and he suspected it was the same way with Thrawn and Ezra's strength with the Force.

"Did he tell you that the Chiss can see in infrared?" Ezra's lack of reaction had Ivant continuing. "It’s not full on heat-mapping but, any blush, any time you're red in the ears or your face feels hot, they know. To them, it looks like an exploitable weakness."

“Now that you say it,” Ezra supposed, “It makes sense.”

“The Chiss are proud and regimented. To be a human in their midst is not an easy thing. They’re… kind of like the Empire when it comes to aliens, but hard work and respect will sway them. Having Force abilities will help you, but you won’t have it easy proving yourself to them.”

"Is that how it was for you?"

Before the Captain can answer, the door to the office opens and a Chiss male steps in wearing a uniform and carrying two trays that smell sweet and earthy.

"A moment," Ivant said, switching briefly to the Cheunh to thank the chef. It was apparent the young man's mouth was watering, but instead of going for his plate, he opted to reach for the mug of red-brown tea perched benignly beside it. It didn't smell like anything, so he raised it to his lips.

It more than made up for the lack of smell with flavor, though, strong and spicy, too sharp for Ezra's senses. He sputtered and tried to set it back without being noticed, but the chef was staring. Ivant shook his head curtly, said something rueful-sounding based on context, and dismissed the chef. Once the Chiss had left, he admonished Ezra lightly. "I told you to wait."

"I thought it was the tea I was smelling," He said, coughing.

"No. It's the egg," Ivant pointed at it with his utensil. The size of it was impressive, at least half the size of his hand and green tinted. Beside it were some blue-black roots of some sort, and there was some sort of dusty pinkish bread set off to the side. The colors were wild, but food was food, and Ezra had spent enough of his childhood living on scraps to appreciate a meal regardless of his opinions on palatability. "The tea is… invigorating. You either love or hate it."

Ezra peeked over at the Captain's tray. He had a larger far mug of it than Ezra did. "You like it?"

"I do." He took a sip of it. "There is caf in the mess hall, though, so be advised that you will survive."

Exhaling, Ezra chanced a grin at his new commanding officer. Ivant didn't smile at him, exactly, but he didn't look angry either. Breakfast was an interesting affair. The food was delicious in combination, though Ezra couldn't stand what Ivant called 'ice root' (the Chiss word wasn't something he could hope to repeat) unless it was paired with the sweet egg. The bread was soft and chewy, good alone but better when he followed the Captain's lead and used it to soak up runny egg yolk.

Afterward, he quizzed Ezra in a way that almost made him forget it was a test, of sorts. What he knew of the Chiss - almost nothing, what he knew of the Ascendancy - even less, despite what insights he'd gained during his debrief, and then, lastly, of Thrawn - which was more than either of the first two subjects combined, but Ezra had the feeling he was hoping for more information than what had come up during the extensive debrief. Still, Ezra was honest, and told the Captain all he knew.

"Commander Mitth'raw'nuruodo may allow you to use his core name," Captain Ivant said, "But that's not typical of how the Chiss do things with newcomers. "In fact, I would suggest you ask him how he would prefer you to address him. He likely offered his core name to you because it is easier to pronounce, instead of an extension of trust."

"I think Mitt-Mitth- ugh, Thrawn trusts me. I’m here, aren’t I?"

"I do not believe that Mitth'raw'nuruodo trusts anyone. His fate may be tied to you, Ezra Bridger," Ivant looked thoughtful, "And that will lead him to cater to you. Things here have changed since he left. He has much to learn as well, and far fewer allies than when he left."

"Have you told him that?"

"I don't have to. He already knows."

Ezra considered that a moment, filed it away for further reflection. "So, wait. Core names. You're not Chiss."

"Clearly," Ivant didn't laugh, but amusement flavored his tone. "You want to know what my name is."

"Iv Ant?" Ezra frowned. It didn't sound like much of a name.

"Ivant is a core name that the Chiss gave me. I'm originally from Wild Space, if the accent didn't tell you that."

It had. "So they just took from the middle of your names?"

"They did." He tilted his head, appraising Ezra for a long moment, as if curious about what he'd do with the knowledge, or perhaps interested in Ezra's response. The question didn't seem to upset him, though. "My name is Eli Vanto."

[artemiswinnick]

Eli’s Coming

I was tagged in a Songfic challenge by @gemini0410 and @vicmackeybullshxt and given Eli’s Coming by Three Dog Night:

https://open.spotify.com/track/29k9SMi3bZi1lhbGBLcpwI?si=RPbxRxUwTpCuQeVBSeZfvw

This song gave me some hella Supernatural vibes and I had a little blurb lying around in my drafts from years ago, so I decided to edit it and extend it inspired by the song. Please don’t ask me how this fits into canon or anything, because I genuinely have no idea. I think I just felt like Dean really needs a hug, ya know? 

Warnings: Explicit language, references to violence, taking the lord’s name in vain and twisting around the Old Testament to suit my fictional needs. 

The fire blazed higher and suddenly went out. There was a pitch-dark blackness.

“Is that supposed to happen—?” Sam cut off as the flame rose again, burning quietly now, illuminating two girls. Their vessels were a pair of twins—one in a night dress, the other dressed for a night out on the town. They peered at the brothers and the angel expressionless, the infinity in their eyes in stark contrast to the youth of the bodies they inhabited.

“Aladril? Adriel?” Castiel asked, stepping forward.

“You summoned us, Castiel?” They asked in unison, haloed by soft blue flames.

“Well, that’s creepy...” Dean muttered under his breath.

“We need your help,” Castiel ignored him, addressing the twin angels.

“You know that we cannot help you.” The angel in the clubbing outfit replied.

“You should not have woken us.” Said the other, adjusting her white nightgown grumpily before looking at her sister’s get up. “This is the fashion of the time? Either a sack or a prostitute's corset—?”

“What do you mean you can’t help us?” Dean cut in, uninterested in allowing the angels any time to adjust to their vessels. Castiel tried to hold him back but he shook him off and stepped forward. “No, Cas, what was the point in summoning the Bopsy twins if they’re not even going to—?”

“We went to sleep for a reason.” They said loudly, speaking together again. Now, they both looked irritated as they turned to Castiel. 

“We know you don’t believe us,” Said the one in the night gown. “But there’s a war brewing and if we stay it will only strengthen their resolve in continuing.”

Cas shook his head. “That’s what I’m trying to say. Adriel, the war has already started, even with the both of you asleep. We’re… We’re losing. We’re desperate. If you don’t help us, it won’t be only the humans that are wiped out but angels as well. That includes you.”

The twins frowned slightly. 

“What?” Aladril’s eyebrows knitted together worriedly even as she tugged at her corset top. “... Seriously, what century are we in? Have corsets come back into fashion—?”

“The demons are working on finding a way into heaven. When they do, they’ll find you there and slaughter you along with the rest of the host.” Castiel squared his shoulders and fixed them both with his gaze. “We need your help.”

“Do you expect us to fight alongside you?” Aladril asked slowly.

“As we did when you were but a fledgling, Castiel?” Adriel raised one eyebrow— it was starting to become easier for Sam and Dean to tell the two apart and it wasn’t just the hilarious outfits. Aladril spoke slowly, her expression calm and patient while her words poured like honey into their ears. Adriel, for as soft as her nightgown looked, had a voice that sang like a knife’s edge, her mouth twisting into a smirk as she watched Castiel blush thinking of their first battles. “You were so cute back then, full of such innocent purity…”

“Listen, as much as we’d love to join you all for a trip down memory lane,” Sam finally lost his patience. “But we have… need of your assistance. We’re planning an offensive on the demons in a week--.”

“Absolutely not,” Aladril shook her head. “We don’t harm humans.”

“But they aren’t humans! They’re demons--!” Dean exclaimed.

“In human vessels, much like these,” Adriel looked down at her current form. “Or have you forgotten that-- Castiel what are these two called?”

“That one’s Dean, and the other is Sam,” He quickly clarified.

“Dean,” Adriel turned the blond man’s name over in her mouth like it was venom on her tongue. “Humans have such stupid names…”

“Right, because Adriel and Aladril for a pair of twins isn’t just as stupid or confusing,” He retorted. The flames around the angel burned brighter suddenly.

“How dare you--”

“Are these the archangels you promised us, Cas? Really? Two girls in high school?” Dean shook his head, enjoying the expression of fury on the celestial being’s face.

“Excuse me?” Adriel’s voice grew dangerously low. 

“Adriel-“ Aladril tried to hold her back but her sister was incensed. She stepped out of the circle of flames easily, undeterred by the celestial fire. Dean crossed his arms.

“These two girls have been waging holy war since before you were a twinkle in the Creator’s eye, human,” She spit out. “I could kill you with my bare hands, even in this stupid vessel--”

“Adriel!” Aladril cut her off, “We just told them we don’t harm humans!”

“We could always make an exception for this one,” Adriel muttered, but backed off.

“I- We apologize.” Aladril said, shooting a look at Adriel who crossed her arms. “But, like my sister said, we are very old and with age comes experience. We will not be joining you in battle, Castiel. Isn’t there any other way we can help you?”

“I-- Well… Sam, had a question,” Castiel supplied, his face fallen.

“Go ahead,” Aladril motioned for Sam to step forward.

“Well,” He cleared his throat. “We captured one of the demons recently, interrogated him--.”

“Tortured,” Adriel coughed into her fist, getting looks from everyone around the room. She raised an eyebrow at them all. “Let’s call a spade a spade, gentlemen. Continue.”

“We left him securely tied up, all the right incantations in place but he got loose when we were switching shifts guarding him and… well, he decapitated his own vessel so he’d get sent back down to hell,” Sam finished uncomfortably, feeling the angel’s expressions of judgement settling on him. 

“... Alright?” Adriel frowned. “I don’t see what--.”

“He drew runes on the wall in Hebrew before he did that in his own blood,” Sam continued. “It translates to… Eli is coming.”

That got their attention. The twins snapped their focus to the tall man with long dark hair.

“What did you say?” Aladril hissed.

“I said Eli’s coming,” Sam repeated. “The demon wrote that on the wall in his own blood—.”

“Yes, yes that Eli is coming…” Adriel stepped forward out of the flames again, peering up into his eyes. “I’m assuming you killed this demon?”

“Uh...Yes?” Dean answered, quizzically looking between the angel and his brother who were locked in a staring match. Her infinite eyes moved to his, an expression of rage and annoyance marring her features.

“Well, fucking wonderful!” She exclaimed.

“Adriel, language!” Her sister admonished.

“Oh, don’t chastise me, Aladril, I think you know the expletive is warranted!” Adriel turned to her sister. “They’ve been cursed and they don’t even know it!”

“Cursed?” Sam frowned. 

“Listen lady, we’re pretty familiar with curses, alright?” Dean waved his hand dismissively. “So why don’t you just tell us what we’re dealing with so we can grab the eye of newt and a root of cabbage or whatever the fuck we need to break it—.”

Adriel spun around on him, the flames bursting up and making him stumble back away from her.

“What you need is the blood of the demon that cursed you!”

“Well, fuck…” Sam cursed quietly. Dean’ nostrils flared as he crossed his arms. 

“You mean… but the Book of Samuels was always considered to be an exaggeration—,” Castiel stuttered, an uncharacteristic sight. Aladril looked to him with sympathy.

“Unfortunately, it’s quite the contrary… The actual curse of Eli was much more powerful than the story Metatron fed the prophet.”

“But why would he lie? It’s— it’s in the old testament! The humans have been telling themselves this story for thousands of years—!”

“It cast a bad light on God’s everlasting wisdom and judgment?” Adriel shrugged. “We tried telling you even some in the host could not be trusted—.”

“Do you all want to sign each other’s yearbooks or something?”  Dean exclaimed. “Or can we do that after you help us lift the curse?”

Adriel crossed her arms and looked to her sister.

“I say we let them die. This one’s annoying.”

“Adriel!” Her sister exclaimed.

“Die?” Sam choked out. “What the hell is the curse of Eli, exactly?”

“Well, the family-friendly version was written in the book of Samuels,” Aladril began. “Eli was the high-priest of the Hebrews, he and his family were cursed to never live to an old age due to the misdeeds of his sons...”

“Misdeeds like… cheating at poker?” Dean prompted, earning an elbow from Sam..

“Misdeeds like taking prime cuts of meat from temple offerings and committing adultery with the women who served at the sanctuary entrance,” Adriel replied dryly.

“Right, those kinds of misdeeds…” Dean rolled his eyes. “So we’re supposed to freak out because we won’t live to an old age? I wasn’t expecting to do that either way…

“But you said that was the family friendly version…” Sam brought up,  looking to the angels. 

“Yes, well… one of Eli’s sons tried to break the curse by bargaining with a demon,” Aladril revealed. “Who, in, the guise of helping him, actually amplified the curse.  Now it wouldn’t just kill Eli and his sons— it would damn them for eternity. In hell with Lucifer.”

“Oh… Oh, shit,” Sam rubbed at his face. “I know where this is going—.”

“But… how long do we have before it takes… effect?” Castiel asked slowly.

“Depends on what else the demon did— curses can be personalized. If you change the wording,” Adriel explained

“Yeah, we know,” Dean addressed her snappily. “So. What do we do?”

The angel fixed her eyes on him..

“Now? Well, now we hold hands, Dean.”  She grinned, her teeth sharp and glistening in the blue fire light.

—————-

A half hour later, Dean was seated, criss-cross apple-sauce style next to Sam in a circle with Adriel and Aladril. Adriel sat to his right and reached a hand towards his, smirking.

“Is this really necessary?” He grumbled as she twined her vessel’s slender fingers with his, smooth and cool to the touch.

“Not really, but it makes it easier,” Aladril replied, reaching one hand to Sam and the other to her sister. “We need to read your souls.”

“You can do that?” Sam asked, staring at the two archangels in wonder. Dean wished he’d wipe that expression off his face. Sure, these two weren’t exactly like all the other angels they’d met-- even other archangels. They’d stepped in and out of the ring of celestial fire earlier like the flames were nothing more than chalk on a sidewalk... He had to admit it had impressed and terrified him in equal measure. They seemed to radiate power, even in their young vessels, but not just power… Goodness. Truth. Mercy. All of the cheesy shit he used to believe angel’s stood for. It made Dean suspicious of them, despite how highly Castiel had spoken of them before. 

“You don’t trust angels,” Adriel said suddenly, looking him in the eye.

“So, when you say that you can read our souls, what you really mean is read our minds?” Dean asked sourly, yanking his hand from hers. 

“I was just guessing, based on your behavior,” She extended her hand back to him innocently. He took it with a heavy sigh. He didn’t have much of a choice, did he?

~Liar~ he thought, in hopes she would hear it. She frowned slightly, making him smirk. ~Can’t read my thoughts, my ass...~

“Curses leave a mark on your soul. If we look hard enough we should be able to see what exactly they did to you and your brother,” Aladril continued explaining to Sam.

“Neat trick,” He smiled a little. The angel smiled rather proudly back.

“It’s a talent we perfected a long time ago, when we were still fighting on behalf of the heavenly host.”

“It’s probably why Castiel woke us and not, I don’t know… anyone else,” Adriel muttered.

Castiel, leaning against the far wall, shrugged.

“A lot has changed since you first went to sleep, we were out of options.”

Adriel locked eyes with him from across the room, reading the deep sadness in his eyes. He really had changed so much.

“You’ll have to catch us up as soon as we’re done with this,” She murmured. He nodded quietly, looking down at the ground. Adriel cleared her throat. “Alright. Sister, when you’re ready.”

Aladril squeezed her hand and closed her eyes. The boys watched them sway gently back and forth like grass in a light summer breeze, a quiet hum like electric static rising, emanating from them. That same static seemed to seep from their palms, tingling down the men’s fingertips, up their arms, into their chests, up into their minds…

Dean felt exposed. This was not the first time someone had allegedly “read his soul.” Famine, one of the four horsemen of the apocalypse, had done so once and reported that his soul was a withered, starving mess. He wondered what Adriel was seeing. Deep down, he didn’t dislike these angels, even if he was frustrated they wouldn’t help fighting the demons. But it was almost refreshing to see they actually cared for human life, even the lives of the demons' vessels. Not even he and Sam cared all that much about it anymore. It was impractical, he always argued with himself,  you couldn’t fight demons effectively if you were worried about their vessels. But he could remember a time when they’d cared. When hunting was just about protecting people and not saving the whole world and heaven to boot. 

“You’ve been cursed to die in your next battle,” Adriel suddenly spoke, her voice strange. Dean’s eyes snapped open and he was shocked to see tears in her eyes when she looked back at him. 

“Our hit on the shipment is in a week…,” Sam said.

Aladril nodded, eyes opening slowly. “We need to find the demon that cursed you and perform a cleansing ritual with his blood before you go anywhere near the shipment. There’s sure to be fighting and the curse will kill you immediately.”

Adriel stood suddenly.

“I-- uh, my vessel… She’s thirsty.” She looked down to Dean with a stare that reached into his soul.

“Take me to some water?” She asked, her voice a whisper.

For reasons unknown, he just nodded, standing slowly and leading her out into the bunker hallway. He’d just found out he had a week to live and the only way to remedy it was the blood of a demon currently partying it up in the depths of hell. His prospects, as per usual, were not looking good… but when the angel stepped out into the hallway with him, his imminent death was the last thing on his mind.

“You’re not actually thirsty, are you.” He stated rather than asked. Adriel shook her head, locking eyes with him. His mouth went dry and he looked at his feet. “What did you see?”

“Dean…” The way she said his name then made him look back up. She handled the word with care now rather than venom, her expression soft as she reached a hand up to his face. She shook her head slowly, examining his eyes. “You really have no idea, do you?”

“What? That my soul is a shriveled husk?” He tried to laugh it off, but it didn’t reach his eyes and he didn’t step away from her touch. There was something so comforting about the numbing static sinking into his cheek from her fingertips. 

“You believed Famine when he told you that, huh?” She shook her head sadly. Dean frowned.

“How did you know that--?”

“I just read your soul, Dean. I know a lot of things about you now,” She smirked softly, caressing his face before pulling him into a hug. It should have been awkward, he should have stepped away and made an inappropriate joke to break the tension but, for once, Dean trusted that the gesture was sincere. That the truth and goodness and compassion he felt emanating from Adriel was real. It felt like she was pouring it into him, filling him with mending light. He felt empty, but better somehow, when she finally stepped back. She locked eyes with him again. “Famine lied to you. Do you understand? Just like Michael lied to you. And Lucifer. They read your soul blinded by their own weaknesses, their vision warped by their own greed… What they saw was themselves mirrored in you. Don’t believe them.”

Dean nodded, his mouth falling open slightly. She really had read his soul. Or his mind. Or whatever she’d done.

“Why won’t you fight with us?” He finally asked after a long moment staring into her eyes. Her brows knit themselves, some of the ethereal warmth and love disappearing to be replaced with familiar annoyance.

“We’ve already done our share of fighting, Dean. We’ve seen too much--.”

“Or you’re just scared,” He cut her off. She may have the power to read his soul, but he wasn’t blind himself. There had to be a reason two such powerful beings refused to get involved in a fight and, seeing the fire in Adriel’s eyes, he had a hard time believing it was just their compassion for human life. “What happened before you went to sleep for eternity? Cas never told us.”

She raised an eyebrow at him.

“That’s because Castiel is pure of heart and knows better,” She appraised the man standing in front of her. In truth, she’d only agreed to the long sleep for Aladril. But… now was not the time to get into her and her sister’s past. She turned to go back into the room where Aladril, Castiel and Sam were waiting. “Come on. We don’t have very long and… Eli’s coming.”