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michaelgovehateblog · 3 years

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Piggy in the Middle

Queen Elizabeth x Michael Gove, Michael Gove x Matt Hancock, 1500 words

“Michael Gove and Sarah Vine to divorce.” She knew it was bad, but Elizabeth’s heart couldn’t help but skip a beat when she saw the headlines. She had spent years forcing herself to ignore how she really felt about Michael and pretending the flirty looks and comments they shared were meaningless or all in her head; after all, they were both married, and publicly at that, especially in the case of her and Philip. And it’s not that she didn’t love Philip, because she of course did, but there was something about Gove and his pig-like face that just drew her in. And now she was rid of Philip, and Michael and Sarah were splitting up – maybe there was a chance for them.

Not that they would be able to go public with it if anything even did happen between them. As far as the country knew, Elizabeth was still mourning Philip, just putting on a brave face and soldiering on without him. The public probably wouldn’t be able to deal with her moving on so soon. She sighed – her life as a parasite was so difficult.

Elizabeth was so lost in her thoughts she almost didn’t hear the knock at her door, and subsequent voice.

“Your Majesty? It’s 12, we’re scheduled to leave now.”

“Of course, I’m coming now.” She responded, and stood up to leave, making sure to glance in the mirror to check she still looked presentable. Everything was still pristine: icy white grey hairs all perfectly in place and nude lipstick completely un-smudged. She was wearing a long royal blue (her signature colour) coat with large buttons of a slightly softer blue colour, all of which were done up. This was worn over a classy floral-patterned dress, which wasn’t visible under the jacket. Perched on top of her head was an elaborate hat made from material the exact same colour as the coat and adorned with white and blue flowers. The shoes she wore were a standard pair of elegant black heels and the look was finished off with a pair of black gloves.

Satisfied the outfit was perfectly uncreased as always, Elizabeth left the room to head to the whatever event it was this time, she didn’t really care. Mostly she just showed up at these things for a bit of good PR and so people would continue believe she works hard and really cares about the common people (Which she didn’t obviously. Why would she.) Although, she was certain that someone had told her that this event would have many politicians also in attendance, so she was hopeful that she might encounter a certain cabinet member.

As per usual, Elizabeth was finding the event mind-numbingly boring, just endless shaking hands with forgettable people she was supposed to pretend to be interested in. But then she spotted him. And at the same moment she saw him, Michael glanced in her direction and they were making direct eye contact. She gave him a shy smile, which he returned as he started walking towards her, not breaking eye contact.

“Your Majesty,” said Michael, extending his arm to shake hands, “How are you today?” They shook hands, Michael noticing how dry and wrinkly Elizabeth’s felt, and her in turn mentally noting the bizarre clamminess of his, both of which only increased each person’s attraction to the other.

“I’m doing wonderfully,” she responded, “And thoroughly enjoying this lovely event.” she made sure to add, aware of how many people were probably in earshot. “But what about yourself? I heard the news. It must be a difficult time for you.”

Michael’s heart skipped a beat upon hearing this; he couldn’t believe that the Queen actually cared enough about him to pay attention to the news about him and his (soon to be ex) wife. He had always felt there was some kind of connection between the two of them but told himself he was imagining it – what other option did he have. But unusually for his cowardly personality, he got a sudden burst of confidence, and was shocked to hear himself talking.

“Ma’am, I think I need to step outside to get some fresh air. Would you be interested in joining me for a walk?” He hadn’t had confidence to do anything like that since his coked-up days of 20 years ago. Well, he always said 20 years ago, but those close to him, such as Matt Hancock, knew he was prone to enjoy a smidge of the substance of an evening.

“Yes, I would enjoy that a lot.” replied Elizabeth, much to Michael’s delight. He offered out his elbow, purely out of politeness, of course, which she accepted, outwardly calmly but very eagerly inside. A walk outside would probably mean time properly alone, where other people couldn’t hear them, something they had probably never had before.

They continued small talk for a while, about the event and such, until they were far enough away from the general crowds for more intimate conversation.

"How have you been coping, Ma'am, without the Prince? Such an unexpected shame, his untimely demise like that. It was truly a shock to all of us."

Right, 'untimely'. Elizabeth often forgot that Philip's death was supposed to be something entirely unexpected for her, not something she knew would happen down to the exact time and place.

"Missing him, of course, but life has to go on. And it's strange to remember that I am single again, after all these years. That's not been the case since I was 13 and Philip was an adult."

"Yes, it's the same for me, minus the questionable age difference. I’ve been married to Sarah for so long that I’ve forgotten what it’s like to meet other people - and be with other people...” at these words the two made eye contact, neither knowing what to say aloud but having an entire unspoken conversation.

“Mr Gove… Or Michael, may I call you Michael? Would you be interested in visiting the Palace for dinner sometime soon? I could give you a personal tour of the grounds.”

“Yes, Ma’am, of course you can call me Michael,” Almost unthinkingly, the pair faced each other and reached for each other's hands. “And I would be honoured to visit the palace, Ma’am.”

Elizabeth let out a sigh she didn’t know she was holding, “Please, no need to bother with the formalities, at least not whilst nobody else is listening. Call me Elizabeth. Now, we should probably head back inside to the event, we’ve been out here a while, people will be missing me. They basically worship me. But I’ll get someone to contact you about your visit to the palace - I’d do it myself, only that sort of thing is far beneath me.” A smile spread over Michael’s pig-mannequin hybrid face as they made their way back inside.

What they hadn’t realised during their encounter, was that it wasn’t as private as they had thought; in fact another politician had been lurking and watching the entire scene.And he wasn’t happy about what he saw. As soon as Elizabeth and Michael walked off in separate directions, Matt Hancock quickly grabbed Gove by the arm and dragged him into a quiet corridor.

“Hancock.”

“Gove. I saw you outside just now, heard you talking with a certain monarch. The two of you seemed quite friendly.”

“Oh. Right. I hadn’t thought anyone else had been outside. You won’t - you won’t tell anyone what you saw or heard, will you?”

“I won’t. But only because it’s you, if it had been anybody else, I would be telling the sun immediately. The queen’s new love interest, I couldn’t hope for anything better to get the tabloids off my back. But because it’s you - I couldn’t hurt you like that.”

“Matt, what do you mean? Why are you making an exception for me?”

“Govey, as if you don’t know. You must have realised how I feel about you.” Hancock stepped closer to Gove and in his mind’s eye, imagined the Sims social interactions menu, and pictured selecting ‘kiss’. (It was from looking at the characters in the game, after all, that he learnt to kiss in the first place. The mindset and techniques stuck with him.) To his delight, he felt Michael kissing him back. Matt deepened the kiss and their tongues battled for dominance. Suddenly, Michael pulled away and stared, speechless, at Matt.

After about half a minute unable to muster any coherent thoughts (not even coherent by conservative standards) Gove turned away and briskly walked to an empty room, where he could sit alone and process all of what just happened. Not only was he certain now that Elizabeth felt the same spark that he did, but Hancock, whom he had secretly had a low-level affection for for many years, had just snogged him out of jealousy? He didn’t expect to be wrapped up in a love triangle the very day his divorce was announced, and yet it seemed that was what was happening. His years of being an incompetent and sleazy politician had clearly earned him some admirers.

If you made it to the end, I'm only partly sorry for what you just read. I would be willing to write a second chapter if for some godforsaken reason somebody actually would want to read one. This took me far too long to write for something that is honestly not that many words but I feel like it's understandable, given the subject matter. k bye

#i dont know if the title is actually funny but i found it funny #because of gove being a pig #also does anybody happen to have an ao3 invite they would be willing to share cos i kind of want to post this there but i dont have an acc #i have not proof read this at all so it might be complete nonsense lmao #anyway here is the promised fanfic please enjoy #uk politics #i will be reblogging this at some point because i put far too much effort into this #michael gove #matt hancock

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shihalyfie · 3 years

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With Digimon Ghost Game starting, I thought about how different it is from previous Digimon series, though it's still undoubtedly Digimon... and then I realized all Digimon series are like that. So I wonder, what do you think sets each Digimon series apart from the rest?

I think both Ghost Game but also the reboot have been a wake-up call for people in terms of realizing that likes, dislikes, and tastes are subjective, and I think it's especially important in terms of this fanbase that is so obsessed with this idea you can objectively rank things by quality -- especially when each series is often deliberately trying to have its own identity, so it's arguably apples and oranges -- and forcing this idea of what's Good and Not Good on everyone else (especially when there's a nasty double standard phenomenon where Adventure and often Tamers get to be so impervious to criticism that people conveniently forget they're perfectly capable of being scrutinized for a lot of things they're weaker in). Very frustrating to see everyone who likes less popular series treated as if they have to accept that they like a "badly written series" for some things and everything else is a guilty pleasure, which I find to be incredibly dumb.

The most important take-home here is that the fact each series has its own identity is always going to be the main factor in what makes it "good" or not to you, not some arbitrary bar of comparison that's based on some narrow-minded view of "good writing" (which is usually unreasonably based on Adventure). For instance, the reason why 02 is so important to me is because (see below), to me, it has the highest amount of meaningful, important life lessons and themes that it wanted its audience to remember, to the point that I frankly do not care about where the plot goes in comparison. That may not be the case for everyone else, and that's fine, but should my tastes be called unreasonable for that? I think we're also coming to realize that because of Adventure (and kind of 02)'s precedent, so many people have been judging series purely by how intimate their individual character development style is, but this is unfair because Adventure and 02's ridiculous level of character depth to psychological detail is extremely unusual and unrealistic to expect of others; Adventure and 02 only achieved this by practically considering the plot utterly subservient to its character arcs, and it's arguably why they have some of the weakest "plots" in this franchise. It's so bizarre that I can see character development in other Digimon series that outstrips even most kids' anime on the market, but it's not as much as Adventure's so apparently it's bad. And, moreover, as it turns out, some people have priorities other than characterization; just because Adventure had that as its strength doesn't mean that's the only thing anyone should care about. Is the plot fun? Is there a meaningful message besides characters (also important to me)? Do you vibe with the tone being dark, or being silly? How much do you care about resourceful usage of Digimon lore? That kind of thing. Everyone is different, so that's why everyone has their own priorities. If you’re someone who prefers darker content, you may not realize that writing good and well-timed comedy is actually a very, very difficult task, especially when said comedy simultaneously has meaning (in comparison, it’s surprisingly easy to write “dark” but shallow content).

I think it's fair to like every Digimon series for its own thing, depending on your personal tastes. I can't speak for everyone, but my impressions are that it has to do with the following:

Adventure: Significantly easier to understand than 02 due to its more straightforward plot, and focus on individual character development ("individualism" being a strong point here). In terms of characters, it goes a lot into some very real social problems (the divorce around the Ishida and Takaishi families and the pressures surrounding Jou, for instance) in a very realistic manner. Also, it has that sense of mystique and absurdism to the Digital World that's both whimsical but also mysterious, and while 02 has it too, Adventure's the isekai story that has it the most.

02: The first is its focus on the importance of human relationships and the compelling group dynamic unparalleled in this franchise, and the second is its important themes and life lessons that I think are some of the strongest in said franchise. I have a whole tag for the ridiculous amount of nuance packed into every detail and dialogue line for this series, and I think every time I've rewatched an episode I've learned something new about it because there are so many things that clearly wanted to be said in each line. The entire series is basically an unpacking of the feelings of insidious self-hatred and the crushing feeling of being subject to society's expectations, and ones that are so deep-seated that you often don’t even have a single answer to how to unpack it (for instance, Miyako hardly has a tragic single event in her backstory, but she says and does a lot of things that'll be painfully familiar to those who have experienced chronic anxiety). Almost every plot point can be said to connect to each character arc in some way, and the mantras for appreciating and treasuring your own life and living life the way you will make this, in my opinion, the strongest series in terms of speaking to those who struggle with this kind of existential crisis for reasons of depression or otherwise. (Oops, I think I went too passionate about this; my biases are obvious...)

Tamers: I think it forms an interesting study and unpacking of the kinds of things you take for granted in Digimon or the monster-collecting genre in general, and an examination of how they'd work in a real-world context (although 02 had a focus on daily life, it didn't quite merge the Digimon and the real world factors until very late in the series). Also, probably the second highest on "hard sci-fi" (the only one that outstrips it is probably Appmon, but Appmon has a very different, more simplified take on it).

Frontier: A series that lies somewhere between Adventure's scale of individualism and 02's scale of group dynamic, and one more discussing the feeling of having your heart hardened from being an outcast, and what it takes to accept the idea of opening yourself up to others again. Recommended for those who like transforming hero and magical girl stories, too. From the Digimon perspective, also the one with the most detailed and consistent Digital World mythos.

Savers: I think this is the series that most drives home "life is complicated" (i.e. there isn't a single mastermind behind everything) in the most tasteful manner, because while it drives home the point that you can't just simplify everything into a good side and a bad side, some bad things really are evil (hi, Kurata), and it doesn't change the fact that everyone's responsible for cleaning up the fallout. The portrayal of the evils of government bureaucracy is probably the most realistic out of any of these series.

Xros Wars: For those who like fun, most of all! For those who like seeing Digimon finally get more of the spotlight and individuality since so much of it had been geared and biased towards the humans prior to this. For those who really like worldbuilding, and, after all, this is called Xros Wars, so it's interesting to see shakeups on the usual formulas in the form of the different factions and their priorities. Hunters is very different in tone, but I do think they have some of these aspects in common; that said, it being closer to having single partnerships brings it a bit closer in line to conventional Digimon partnerships, and it also has more of a picture of daily life. Also, as much as Tagiru is probably your-mileage-may-vary since he's not exactly a very nice kid (I get it if you don't vibe with that), which may also rub those hoping for not nice kids to become nice the wrong way, I do have to say I find him to be one of the funniest characters in this entire franchise, and you'd be surprised how hard good comedy is to write.

Appmon: Probably one of the strongest theme narratives besides 02, since it has a very clear and obvious theme about the importance of kindness in a world where technology is dominating and we're almost encouraged to strip the feelings out of everything. (Bonus for more straightforward plot than Adventure or 02 while still retaining a lot of its elements in terms of how to characterize them.) Also the first series to be speculative about the near future instead of taking place around the time it airs, and it's very obvious it wants to provide important and necessary commentary about what we need to do in the incoming era, especially as a lot of what it has to say becomes increasingly relevant.

Reboot: For those who like Digimon mythos and null canon -- this is probably the only series to show it off in this level of detail -- and the kind of cool action fights that would usually be saved for the climax in prior series (and animated in much more intimate detail with battle choreography than prior series would have). There are a lot of people into this franchise who felt like it genuinely was not making enough use of its Digimon roster and its potential because it kept going back to the old standbys (especially Adventure-based ones), so it was a huge relief for that crowd to see attention finally being paid.

#digimon #shiha's ask box #demonoflight #digimon multi series talk

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little-mad · 3 years

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Downsides of Thievery Pt. 1

~ Next Part ~

“Maybe stealing from an interdimensional diplomat wasn’t my greatest idea,” Gavin thought to himself from his current position in a jail cell.

He’d been hesitant about the job right away. Stealing from humans was one thing, but stealing from alteons was on a whole new level. However, the payment the client had offered Gavin had been too tantalizing to refuse. Who knew it was bad to be greedy?

“Shit,” he grumbled under his breath. How was he supposed to know the diplomat would have some weird magical artifact thing that could detect and identify trespassers? That was just unfair. Gavin was a good thief, so good that he’d managed to make a career out of it. If he had been caught due to his own ineptitude maybe he wouldn’t be so peeved. But this was just a matter of not having enough information. Thus making it unfair.

Prison was something every criminal feared, but it was also something every criminal prepared for in some sense. If Gavin was headed for prison, he might not be so worried. Sure it would suck, but at least he felt sure his undeniable charms would make him friends in no time. But Gavin wasn’t headed for prison--no, he was being extradited to the alteon dimension.

Gavin shivered at the thought. Despite having stolen from one, he had never actually seen an alteon in person. Pictures and videos could only do so much, at least that’s what people said. Apparently the true gravity of an alteon’s massive size couldn’t be understood until you saw one in real life.

Not only would Gavin quite literally be put in the hands of an alteon, but he would also be getting taken to a completely different dimension that only a few very important humans had ever visited before. Maybe he should’ve felt special.

Were the circumstances different, Gavin might’ve even felt excited for the adventure. His work had taken him all over the world, it would be thrilling to get to see a whole new one. However, he had a feeling he wouldn’t exactly be getting the grand tour.

It was at that moment that Gavin began to hear footsteps approaching his cell. A few moments later, two business-suit clad federal agents appeared. Gavin scrambled to his feet and took several unconscious steps towards the back wall. The key jangling in one of the agents’ hands told him exactly what time it was.

“Your ride is here,” the female agent announced, a slight smirk playing at the corner of her lips.

Gavin scowled.

The key carrying agent swiftly unlocked the door and beckoned for Gavin to exit the cell. “Come on, we don’t have all day,” he stated impatiently.

“Aren’t you going to cuff me or something?” Gavin questioned, taking note of the fact that neither agent had brought handcuffs with them.

The woman’s smirk grew but she remained silent. “The alteon won’t need cuffs to restrain you,” the man responded.

Gavin instantly felt the pit of fear in his stomach grow. Horrible images of himself trapped in gigantic hands were invading his mind. Being given over to the alteons meant that his civil rights would be essentially irrelevant. Unless alteons had laws protecting humans, which he doubted, then they could do pretty much whatever they wanted with him. Gavin swallowed hard.

“A-actually, I’m okay staying here…” he stammered. God, he hated how pathetic he sounded. Gavin’s line of work required a lot of guts, and while a healthy dose of caution was always good, he had never considered himself to be cowardly in any sense of the word. But now...well now he felt like the biggest fraidy cat in the whole world.

The male agent gave Gavin what almost seemed like a sympathetic look. “Sorry, but that’s not an option,” he said, once again making a beckoning motion with his hand.

“Dad was right. I should’ve become a doctor,” Gavin thought miserably to himself as he very reluctantly exited his cell.

The trip up from the cell block to the roof of the building pretty much felt like a march to death. Federal employees stared unabashedly at the man practically being sacrificed to giants. Some wore looks of pity, while others had smug expressions on their faces, as if to say “serves him right.” Were Gavin in a better mood he probably would have scowled at the nosy jerks, or at least stuck his tongue out at them. But as things were, he was in no mood.

Rael sighed as he shifted his feet impatiently. It didn’t elude him that every human in the vicinity stiffened at his movement. He refrained from rolling his eyes. It was irritating how the humans constantly acted so skittish all the time, as if he would suddenly go on some sort of rampage.

“Why did they have to give me this assignment?” Rael mentally groaned.

Unlike many of the members of the Imperial Guard, he hadn’t joined with some idiotic fantasy of glorious duels and honorable battlescars. Rael joined because he knew it was the easiest way to elevate his station. Plus standing guard at the palace was easy work that he was perfectly content with. That’s why he had been less than pleased when he'd been informed he would have to venture to the human dimension to retrieve some human criminal.

Prior to today, Rael had only seen a human once, it had been from a distance and only for a second as they were being escorted into the palace. Therefore, he’d had no personal reason to dislike humans. It was just that from everything he had heard about them, they sounded so...annoying. And so far, his experiences with them today had proven that to be fairly accurate.

Rael suppressed a sigh as he glanced around. Thankfully the building he’d been told to go to was at the edge of a human city, meaning he wouldn’t have to put up with civilians gawking at him. The federal agents gathered on the roof in front of him were bad enough.

The stories about how giant being in the human realm would make you feel rang true. Rael felt positively colossal next to people who looked to be barely taller than his fingers. Not to mention the building he was standing beside, which appeared to be three stories, reached no higher than his knees. “Humans are lucky our imperialistic urges died a century ago,” Rael thought. Taking over the human realm would no doubt be a piece of cake, even with their supposed technological advancements.

“Sir!” Rael’s attention was caught by the shout of one of the humans standing on the roof below. He looked down to see the speaker was the woman who appeared to be in charge. “We apologize for the wait, the prisoner is being brought up now,” she announced. It was almost amusing, the way they had to yell for their tiny voices to even be perceived by him.

“Good,” Rael responded simply, electing not to mention the fact that the prisoner should’ve been ready and waiting for him when he arrived.

After a few minutes, Rael caught sight of the door on the roof entrance swing open. Three humans stepped out. The two dressed similarly to all the other federal agents practically had to drag the third one out. It was difficult for Rael to see from so far away, but the odd one out appeared to be a young man. He had light skin, a crop of messy brown hair, and appeared to be quite slim.

Rael raised a single eyebrow. “This is the prisoner?” he questioned as he eyed the man. He didn’t look like much, which was applicable to pretty much all humans, but Rael found it hard to believe that this one could’ve successfully stolen from an alteon.

“Yes, sir!” replied the woman in charge. “His name is Gavin Stone, he’s believed to be associated with many high profile robberies,” she explained.

Rael spared the human called “Gavin Stone” one last look before giving a shrug and reaching for the miniature iron cage attached to his belt.

The cage, which had been especially made for this occasion, was quite simple in its construction. The thing didn’t even have a lock because the latch to open the door was too big for a human’s miniscule hands to manage. It would do perfectly for keeping the criminal contained throughout the duration of the trip back to the palace.

The moment Gavin had laid eyes on the alteon, his body had practically separated from his mind. Physically, he was moving forward with the guidance of his two escorts, but his mind was still struggling to process the impossibly large person looming above him.

If the alteon’s size wasn’t strange enough, the guy looked like he’d stepped right out of a Renaissance Fair or something. His skin was a soft brown color, and he had long black hair that was tied into a loose ponytail behind him. His eyes were a striking teal color that stood out against his angular features. As for his clothing, he looked to be wearing what appeared to be some kind of light leather armor over top of a forest green tunic. Oh yeah, and then there was the fact that he had pointy elf ears.

Gavin had known the alteon dimension was almost medieval in nature, and he’d known the alteons had pointy ears, but it was still so damn bizarre to see in person.

As Gavin was in the middle of gaping, the giant began to move. He flinched at the action, and he noticed everyone else on the rooftop tense up as well. Clearly nobody was comfortable around this--this thing! “How can they hand me over to that?!”

It wasn’t until he had been practically shoved to the edge of the roof that Gavin’s brain caught up with what his body had been doing. Frantically he looked around him. All of the agents, including his former escorts, had backed away from the edge of the building closest to the alteon. This left Gavin stranded, with a giant man a mere few feet away.

With a hard gulp, Gavin tilted his head back to look up at the creature who was about to snatch him away. Those teal eyes were glancing down at him, and in his hand was a cage the perfect size for holding a stupid human who really should’ve just become a damn doctor.

#so yeah...i've got some new ocs #get ready for some juicy fearplay in this sucker #g/t #giant/tiny #g/t writing #g/t story #g/t community #my writing #oc: Gavin Stone #oc: Rael #g/t fearplay

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thecarnivorousmuffinmeta · 3 years

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Ooh! I would love to hear your thoughts on how Twilight is like Othello!

So, in a nutshell, it goes like this: Carlisle is Othello, Edward is Iago, Aro is Desdemona.

The Beginning

Our story begins with Carlisle departing Volterra on amiable terms. Yes, the diet became a non-negotiable difference between him and Aro, but none the less he views Aro as a very close friend and an uncorrupt and wise ruler.

On his end, Carlisle is the only true friend Aro has (now that Marcus is out of commission). While Carlisle was able to leave Volterra, I imagine Aro both expected and hoped that one day Carlisle would return after realizing for himself he was unable to find the like minded in the wide world.

However, it didn't end up that way. Carlisle turns Edward and rapidly builds himself a coven.

However, there's still no ill feelings towards the Volturi, quite the opposite. We don't hear much from Carlisle himself, but of all Carlisle's many friends, it's only the Volturi who get featured in Edward's story. And, speaking for Carlisle when he's not in the room, there's a giant ass picture of the Volturi on the wall.

Edward loathes that painting.

And this is where the tiniest seeds are sown.

Edward never really likes the idea of a Carlisle before the Cullens, before him, that is to say. When he tells Carlisle's tale, there's this pervading sense of narcissism throughout it. Carlisle's life was miserable and damned until he saw the divine spotlight hanging over Edward and turned him.

The Volturi, oh, yeah, guess they were around and important BUT NEVER MIND THEM.

Edward never outright says anything, not even really to Bella or to himself, but his internal narration and what he does say speaks for him. He doesn't like the painting, he leaves only the bare minimum of their influence in the story, he doesn't even tell Bella what they really do and why he may have fucked up in telling her the secret.

He doesn't want to think about them and never wants to meet them.

If he ever does, it is only under the pretext that they will be the tools he uses to kill himself when Bella dies.

New Moon

As Edward told Bella, when he thought she died, he travelled to Volterra and asked for assisted suicide. They said no.

And that, that is the moment that they become corrupt tyrants.

Before then, Edward didn't necessarily like the Volturi, he certainly didn't like the threat they represented to Bella but he had no real thoughts on them. Indeed, he viewed them with enough respect that he thought they would grant his suicide request.

But then they didn't.

And granted, we don't know what Edward witnessed in Volterra, we don't know what he heard going around in everyone's head, but given that this is Edward I think this alone is enough.

They didn't give Edward what he wanted. Then, worse happens, they become a legitimate threat to Bella Swan.

They have now seen Bella in person, Aro lays down the law, Aro shows interest in her gift, and everything's spiraling out of control. By the time we hit the meeting in New Moon that Bella is present for, Edward is accusing Aro of openly being a corrupt tyrant.

However, ultimately, Edward, Bella, and Alice do return to Forks unharmed (though with Bella's turning hanging over their heads). And Edward does not forget that.

We don't see Edward's immediate reunion with the family, we don't see exactly what he says to Carlisle about what happens, but I imagine Edward tells Carlisle what he tells him later in Eclipse: that Aro is a power hungry monster who will stop at nothing to collect Edward and Alice (funny how Edward always leaves Bella out of that when she's the one Aro would actually want but never mind that).

Given what has happened so far, Carlisle very likely does not believe this. Yes, Edward has his gift, but he hears so little of what people think and things are easily misinterpreted.

Had Aro wanted Bella, he would have demanded she be turned and stay there, it was well within his rights. As it was, he did something very generous for the Cullens and Carlisle at least will be grateful because of it.

Edward goes and smashes another TV after having smashed the first after the vote.

Eclipse

Then the events of Eclipse happen.

First, we start with the ramp up.

Seattle is being terrorized, it becomes clearer and clearer that this is not gang violence nor another Ted Bundy, this is a newborn army. The Cullens, Carlisle, wait on the Volturi to arrive: they never do.

Edward continues to disparage the Volturi but now... Now Carlisle is starting to listen.

Aro is letting Seattle burn because he wants Edward and Alice, he has this vision of total omniscience by holding on constantly to Edward and Alice's hands and he will be utterly unstoppable. He'll use this as an opportunity to wipe out the coven so he can take the gifted members.

As for Bella, a vampire has been sneaking into her bedroom, it's likely a Volturi agent sent by Caius or Jane under Aro's implicit orders. (Though everyone actually disagrees with this one, even Alice, who helpfully tries to give Edward an out of "maybe it was Jane!" Carlisle just sits in the corner looking pained and dubious.)

Carlisle likely doesn't believe all of this. Yes, Aro collects gifts, and yes the Volturi's absence is bizarre and damning, but what Edward is saying is... well, evil.

But then Jane shows up, just after the battle has ended, strolling in like she has all the time in the world. She tortures and murders Bree Tanner, a girl who never even had a chance to know what the law was, and leaves with a parting threat that Bella better be turned or else.

Carlisle's faith in the Volturi is completely shaken, such that, when the Renesmee debacle happens, desperately gathering witnesses is his family's only means of survival.

Now, where the Othello comes in, is I don't think Aro's guilty. His having given that order makes no sense on any level. More, for all Alice was stretched thin, she was certain that she would see any major decision coming from Aro during Eclipse. She did not, implying that someone else was behind it (my money's on Caius).

However, by allowing this to happen, any of this to happen, and with Edward spewing poison, Aro becomes everything Edward is saying and more.

And there is nothing he can possibly say to make up for what happened and so he says nothing.

Which, of course, just makes everything worse.

Breaking Dawn

Irina goes to the Volturi and tells Aro that the Cullen coven has created an immortal child. Less than six months ago, the Volturi subtly tried to wipe the Cullen coven off the map, and now Irina has just handed them every excuse they need.

Carlisle doesn't question what happens next: he gathers witnesses.

If his coven stands alone, they will fall and they will die, and if the Volturi act then there must be many vampires watching this go down so as to hold them accountable.

Of course, gathering witnesses quickly turns into gathering an army, which is not what Carlisle wanted but what he got.

In the meantime, Edward and Eleazar are riling each other up and painting a very bleak history of Volterra: of what has happened to other gifted covens in the past.

And then it happens: the confrontation in Breaking Dawn.

Renesmee is clearly not an immortal child, the Volturi admit as much, but the confrontation continues regardless. It becomes about whatever Renesmee is, about the wolves, about anything and everything.

Then Aro does it. He uses every gifted vampire he has against them. Jane, Chelsea, Alec, through Bella's gift alone the group is spared but if Bella hadn't been there.

I imagine Carlisle thought he and every witness he gathered would have died that day.

(For the record, I don't think that was Aro's intention.)

And just like that, it's done, whatever man Carlisle thought he knew in Volterra was a lie. Edward was right, this man is utterly corrupt and will sacrifice everything for power.

And the end isn't here yet.

There will be another confrontation and, the way canon will likely go, the Volturi will lose.

Which is very bad for all of us.

Back to Othello

The important thing here is that, throughout all of this, while a series of the world's most tragic miscommunications and events took place, you also had Edward on the side insisting the worst about Aro at every turn.

Hence, Carlisle is Othello, Edward Iago, Aro Desdemona.

#twilight #twilight meta #twilight headcanon #twilight renaissance #othello #edward cullen #anti edward cullen #carlisle cullen #aro #the volturi #meta #headcanon #opinion

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kuboism · 3 years

Text

Bleach Canon Vs. Studio Clown Episode 1

Intro to the series

WARNING: Long read but theres plenty of pictures

The first deviation we’re greeted with is what the anime presents as the arrival of hollows into the human world. With a likely artistic rendition of them forming from the shadows of Hueco Mundo and dripping/bleeding over into the human world like splotches of ink, after which they disappear - unable to be perceived by humans.

A/N: Which, kubos to the anime, is rather neat.

The anime also decided to incorporate the first volume poem which is the thematic beginning and a great establisher of the mood/themes of Bleach, which roughly translates to:

我らは姿無きが故にそれを畏れ

“We fear that which cannot be seen”

And then they curiously add a line to this poem?

姿無き故に敬う

”We revere that which cannot be seen"

A/N: Which, initially seems on brand with the spiritualism of that “which is not seen” - the shinigami, DEATH itself if you will. However, unlike the themes of “fear” and “fear of death/the unseen”, “reverence” is not really a theme prevalent or definitive for bleach. Reverence is not particularly reserved for death or death gods, but antagonists with themes of divinity/the Soul King himself, but I digress.

Next off the bully scene has a couple of missing/reworded lines, as well as some of the delivery changed, but overall it’s not significant enough to mention.

I also wish they’d kept Ichigo’s shit yourself scary face from this moment right here, since it really underlines how serious and personally invested Ichigo is in bringing small justice to the souls of the departed, but I can only pray a future remake does include it.

^ I am disappointed in y’all :/

vs.

v Karma delivery, bitch

Then for some reason the next scene is changed significantly:

In the manga, it builds up slowly to Ichigo’s reveal of supernatural abilities with the iconic TM character profile intros (which I can see why weren’t recreated in the anime, but I sure wish they put them in....)

with him spooking the bullies off with the ghost girl right behind him

Versus his scary face doing the job instead.....

It’s a small change, and I can see why it would be opted for - we don’t really know if they even saw the ghost in the first place (then again you could argue that would spook them anyway). There is a tonal difference in the long run though. The manga emphasizes once again *why* ichigo is scolding them in the first place - he sees the people disrespected by them knocking down the vase, he wants them to acknowledge their actions *because* in his mind, there are real victims he knows from it. While in the anime, since the ghost is not yet introduced, it feels more like “you are disrespectful to the dead” in a more generalized way vs. him actually being acquainted with the dead and treating them like the living.

(Again, not sure why change it so much at all........the suspense and reveal are in the manga just the same.... but ok)

As well as cutting off this small moment where you can see Ichigo’s very human (and cute!) interactions with the ghosts. To him they’re just as real as the living, and he lends them a hand whenever they ask for help.

Also lmfao this 4kids level of censorship.....

It goes on rather faithfully for a while, no significant omissions, then Pierrot decides to randomly replace Yuzu’s lines with Karin??

Manga:

Anime:

Which is an odd choice, given that not only does Yuzu sense ghosts just fine (albeit at a much lesser level than her family) and that later comes into play with Fishbone & Grandfisher, but Karin literally later admits that she doesn’t even want to acknowledge their presence, so why the change....?

They also cut short Karin’s little talk about Ichigo’s stats, which is a fair change for screentime’s sake, but mentioned for the record.

There’s a bit of a divergence with Yuzu lore, when the manga explicitly states she sees them, but not “clearly”, the anime focuses on her barely sensing them. I guess it doesn’t matter that much in the long run, since she is not that prevalent in the story, but it’s here for the record nonetheless.

Anime:

vs.

Manga:A

Also this next bit was removed, probably for the sake of pacing (which, totally fair!!), but it’s funny and I love the Kurosaki family so here it is:

It does make the flow a bit better in the manga, since this talk of selling his talents distracts Ichigo and creates an opening for his father to strike, in the anime, the same is done with Ichigo just randomly saying

and thats where his father attacks him, which isnt really an issue, just kind of funny of how the manga is like:

Ichigo’s distracted by his sisters plotting to sell him out and hence Isshin has his chance to strike back

vs the anime being like:

Ichigo randomly thinks about dinner mid convo about ghosts and thats what distracts him from play-fighting with his dad

gfdkhlgfdg okayyyy....moving on

In the manga this scene is interspliced with Ichigo’s inner monologue about the nature of his powers (with hip jargon like “for real” courtesy of Viz )

(but my beef with Viz translations are for another day)

Also the line about “He told me more ghosts than ever have been haunting me” has been given to Karin for some reason, probably to make her feel more included in the scene/Ichigos life.

Notably, Isshin’s response is changed from “What?! He talks about stuff like that with you (Yuzu, singular)” to “What?! He talks about stuff like that with you guys?” as well, again probably to include Karin more into the dialogue. (Mmmm ok....)

Minor detail, but Karin’s lines has been changed to more “boyish” speech structure in the Japanese dub, which may seem insignificant, but ...... that is for later.

.....

This little exchange

is replaced with:

Which, seems innocuous adaptation differences, but Yuzu’s lines keep decreasing and it’s a short enough moment to like....include and establish how motherly Yuzu is acting towards Ichigo.....but ok...huh.

And now we get into the big boy changes.

So, probably for the sake of grounding the supernatural element of the series, the anime decided to skip time to the next morning and introduce the hollow attacks with a news report.

Which.....is an interesting choice. I am assuming this is addressing how the real world perceives the hollow attacks, which Bleach doesn’t put too much effort into addressing, but very soon after this we learn about stuff like memory replacement and other various technology to keep things under wraps so this is either redundant or implying that shinigamis have not been doing their job, which hm......

Next off is the bizarre choice to paint Isshin out of the picture for the night

Not sure why, but ok

Again, where’s the shinigami with their Kikanshinki (memory replacement devices)??? Pierrot where’s the lore coherence......

Anyway, Ichigo goes to replace the girl’s vase, but suprise-surprise she’s gone-zo. Wonder what happened to her.....

(And....again, people vehemently don’t want a reboot when the anime looks like this? )

So Ichigo hears a scream and a hollow scream and follows the sound (Ok?).

Totally random hollows attack. Which Ichigo somehow has never seen so far? Mind you, this isn’t like in the manga, where Fishbone was sent by Aizen specifically after Ichigo to make him aware of it. These are random-ass hollows attacking people, so how come Ichigo suddenly sees them. Ya coulda played it safe Pierrot, and stuck to the book, but we got plot inconsistencies episode one so let’s party.

The girl is, of course, not eaten and they run away.

She trips at the most inconvenient moment. (can ghosts trip? Ghost don’t even have legs in japanese lore and Kubo draws them floating around so okkkkkkkk)

(ok ok, im just being petty, bUT YKNOW)

(convenient tripping on deadass levelled ground is convenient)

(also God I really want that bag Ichigo’s got on his shoulder, it looks so nice)

Random-ass hollow closes in and

BOOM

Rukia

(Now, if the rest of Bleach and the manga didn’t exist I would like this moment. We get a glimpse into Rukia’s abilities, into shinigami as a concept and we don’t really get to see her slice and dice hollows that much overall so the moment itself is rad in isolation.

Now, unfortunately for Pierrot’s screenwriters, Bleach manga exists and so does it’s lore, which again, would not be inconsistent with each other if the adapation was faithful. Now, Ichigo sees a shinigami, for some reason, for the first time in his 15 years of life. All of a sudden.

You could argue, that much like in the manga, this is all part of Aizen’s plan TM, but like, she literally leaves right after leaving Ichigo gaping in awe ghfkjgdf. Why’d Aizen give him an appetizer, I really don’t understand how this change is benefitting the narrative in any way. It’s ....dare I say....generic.)

Rukia yeets the hollow

(why is this kid suddenly not wearing shoes?)

and goes off on her merry way, leaving Ichigo shooketh

ALSO RUKIA MA’AM THERES A FUCKING STRAY GHOST RIGHT AT YOUR RIGHT????? ISNT IT YOUR LIKE....JOB.......... TO HELP GHOSTS MOVE ON??? i know killing hollows is the fun part, but like ghjkfdlgfd ??? are you gonna ignore her???

( his fucking face ghfjdkgdlfgfd)

So after this wholeass pointless detour (you’ll see why it’s pointless in a moment) we timeskip again (the filler is strong in this one. These 6 minutes were worth not coming up with something cohesive and removing scenes that actually make sense ah yes)

Ichigo is in deep thought TM about who tf is the stranger he’d just seen. Likely mulling over the monsters and how this person was able to slay said monsters. Probably thinking how unusual they are.

and as if on cue

the stranger makes their presence once more

(my God these faces gfhgkldfg)

....

Now let’s briefly address what happens in the manga instead.

Instead of the whole timeskip scene with the fight, Ichigo simply returns to his room on the same day, and oddly enough recognizes the species of the butterfly he sees? (nerdy boi! nerdy!! boi!)

rukia arrives much the same

(With the little text emphasizing how he’d never been aware of soul reapers, which is unsurprising given their secrecy, and makes sense in the long run since their first meeting is specifically orchestrated by Aizen. Two species that werent meant to interact brought together by his schemes.)

Back to the anime:

Ichigo pauses to ponder who tf they are and why the fuck they’re there.

and then the anime has the gall to suddenly revert to sticking to the manga, which like.... Ichigo kicks her for no reason? I guess because she isn’t answering? Even though Ichigo knows she has a sword and can wield it? Reckless boy.

Manga Ichigo thinks she’s a burglar, therefore, unsurprisingly, is comfortable kicking her outta his house. It’s a silly moment, but it also shows how accustomed or stupidly brave he is with the supernatural.

In the anime Ichigo asks her who she is instead of all that, and she responds pretty similarly to the manga

AND THE NEXT SCENE IS WHERE IT CLICKS WHY THEY WENT OUT OF THEIR WAY TO REMOVE ISSHIN FROM THE HOUSE.

(Ichigo and Rukia addressing the pointless filler, this leads nowhere)

Rukia check him out like she’s checking if the oranges on sale dont have mold on them

slapstick ensues

and Rukia decides to answer his question.

Vs. the manga in which Isshin doesn’t leave his children home alone for some random conference and is actually used very efficient for two reasons:

1) building up on the burglar gag with actually funny slapstick that is based on a previously established joke

2) Instead of Rukia just saying “oh usually people can’t see me”, we get an actual demonstration of it, the reader gets to see “oh Isshin can’t see her - she must be a spiritual entity,” which further clicks with her surprised reaction at him being able to kick her in the first place.

The next scene is the classique Pierrot censorship.

Ghost girl runs away from what I’m assuming is Fishbone.

Aside from not showing her get eaten, the scene is pretty much delivering the same message,

bUT

BECAUSE OF THE STUPID ASS FILLER WITH THEM MEETING RUKIA BEFORE THIS, I CAN ACCUSE RUKIA OF NEGLIGENCE.

UNLIKE THE MANGA, where Rukia arrives the night before and is specifically seeking Fishbone, therefore having no time to help this girl pass away,

This vvvvvvv

could have been prevented if SOMEONE DID THEIR FUCKING JOB THE DAY BEFORE VVVVVVV

(I rest my case. Thank you Pierrot for making Rukia either negligent or an idiot. Awesome, And mind you, these changes were unnecessary. The manga’s pacing is fine. They could’ve extended scenes. But nope, had to go for making them meet beforehand.)

Anyway, we get to see some actual stakes in the manga

The next scene which is this in the manga

has two changes to it. Firstly, obviously Isshin being consoled by Yuzu isn’t included since he isn’t home in the anime, and even if he were, I can see why that would be removed, cute as it may be.

And secondly, due to them having met prior Ichigo asks two additional questions:

And Rukia nods at both, which means she acknowledges that she had seen the girl the hollow was after and yet did nothing to help her pass on.

(Reminder the Bleach anime was in production WAAAAY past the first 4 volumes, which gave a good general idea of the series, which y’know, was fine to adapt as is.

You’ll see these changes add up into becoming inconsistent with further Bleach lore. There’s a reason people call Bleach a hot mess, and I’m afraid Kubo ain’t really it.)

(Volume 14 Note from Kubo where he talks about the anime being announced)

Back to the series

Pet peeve time: Wish the anime was half as expressive as the manga

These scenes are supposed to represent

This panel:

(Nitpicking? Perhaps, but idc)

So uh, this scene is odd

Again, because of the addition of that filler with the hollow

Ichigo has seen her in action

And they even added Rukia trying to convince him

even though, yknow???

LITerally the previous day???

Anyway in the manga, where Ichigo has reason to be distrustful of her and her claims since y’know hes never seen her or a shinigami in action, but has enough proof that she’s a ghost bc his dad didn’t see her, he simply dismisses her before she can reply, and instead of just getting angry for being called a pipsqueak

she shows both Ichigo and the audience proof of her spiritual powers by binding Ichigo and forcing him to quietly listen to her explanations.

(To reiterate - Anime Rukia has to verbally try to convince Ichigo WHO SAW HER FIGHT A HOLLOW THE OTHER DAY that shes no ordinary ghost. And because of that, she has no other reason to use Sai on him other than that shes mad she was called a pipsqueak bc she just tried to verbally convince him shei is a shinigami. When they could just adapt the manga and have her both demonstrate her powers and put him in his place at the same time. Wild.)

Also CRIMINALLY BORING SHOT, WITH CRIMINALLY BORING RUKIA

#NotMyRukia

LOOK AT THE MANGA

LOOK AT HER SMUGLY OWNING ICHIGO’S IGNORANT ASS #FuckYeahRukia

Also the subs may not show it if you’re watching it on Netflix, but anime Rukia says “I am not allowed to lay my hands on humans outside orders,” which like, you ARE LITERALLY DOING THAT. Manga Rukia is fine with bullying Ichigo, but she draws a line at killing him, but man Anime Rukia, you give no fucks about the laws huh.

why so cheerful?

(also Rukia be right tho)

(specifcally compared to hell you could say Soul society is a resftul place lmfao)

Also anime salary man gets to rest in peace, even like, pray and shit

Meanwhile the manga

YEET TO SOUL SOCIETY

(also notice how we’ve been robbed of ichigo’s silly socks

I swear the anime knows how to suck the soul out of the manga

Get it? Soul! haha ....moving on.)

Really Rukia? One of your jobs?

GUESS YOU WERE OFF DUTY HERE!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

(I’M SORRY BUT LIKE, SEE HOW POINTLESS THIS FILLER IS UGH!!!)

(Again pet peeve but look at how ugly this screen is COMPARED TO THE MANGA)

(What have they done to you, queen)

(also they never mention the name Konso ( or as Viz calls it here -”soul funeral”, thanks Viz)

Next on, not a pet peeve, but an observation:

Anime Rukia keeps her sketchbook in her kimono

Manga Rukia keeps it at the titty

Yep, which you neglected to do the day before,

she literally says “With the konso I did just a moment ago” like she used the word before. Like you can contextually get it, but why cut that line out of the dialogue if you don’t change the next line it’s referenced in?

There’s also a dialogue change from the manga’s well, Viz uses “vaporize” which is not a bad choice given the specific wording Kubo uses, but the original says

昇華 • 滅却

sublimate/convert • extinguish

which is a clever little nod/foreshadowing to the nature of souls in bleach and that they can be “converted” in and out of a hollowfied state.

While the anime just says “to slay hollows”, and albeit it lacks the little nod the manga has to offer, I can’t see how they’d include it in the anime at that stage so I’m fine with them simplifying it to like, an exorcism.

A better question then Rukia - WHY DIDN’T YOU SEND OFF HER SOUL????

also WAIT THE GIRL IS STILL ALIVE?? she’s dead-dead by this point in the manga.

BULLSHIT !!! YOU LITERALLY EXPLAIN LATER WHY!! ACTUALLY YOU EXPLAINED EARLIER WHY!!! YOU LITERALLY SAID THIS, 1 MINUTE AGO :

Anyway, Fishbone almost grants her the priviledge of escaping this God-awful anime, but is suddenly stopped?

AND CAN TALK??

wait WHY DOES FISHBONE TALK?? GHFJD isnt this supposed to be a juicy reveal for later when Ichigo realizes “hey theyre not actual complete monsters - but used to be humans!” Hm, ok.

Also leaves her alone? Damn ok...

Reminder:

Moooving on...

Speaking of the manga, this little moment is missing:

Since there is no pointless filler that would make him ask about the ghost girl therefore exposing Rukia’s slacking off of her duty, Ichigo realizes that there must be a hollow nearby bc in the manga he actually has braincells to spare.

Also wiping off the Baron’s moustache moment is gone 😢

Missing and dearly missed is also this moment, which consolidates how protective Ichigo is of his family. He only needs to hear Yuzu scream to click that the hollow is nearby and his family is in danger. I feel like anime Ichigo should be even more worried since his sisters are alone but ok??

Also foreshadows their dynamic of Rukia trying to stop his reckless attempts at pushing himself to protect his family, bc yknow....she has her own Kaien trauma to process.

Next off....

This is .... a choice....

They were very eager to give Yuzu’s lines to Karin just a couple of moments ago but now this whole exchange:

Where we see a very pragmatic yet soft side of Karin

She doesn’t know what is happening, and doesn’t expect her brother to fight it - he just wants him to be safe, because she loves her family. At least warn him before it gets to him and hurts him.

is replaced with this:

Yuzu, sweetie, what do you think he can do to achieve that.

I guess at least Anime Ichigo tries to get Rukia to do her job as she looks down on Yuzu in silence.

But compare it to the manga:

#MyRukia stops by Karin to check for a pulse and reassures Ichigo that his sister is alive.

Manga Ichigo is NUMBER ONE oniichan in town and doesnt have time to call out to a stranger to save his family - HES BEYOND READY TO GO FIGHT, RECKLESS AS IT IS, EVEN THOUGH HIS OWN FAMILY BEGS HIM TO JUST RUN. because he cant let himself be unable to protect them. He cant live with himself if he doesnt try his darnest to protect them.

*elevator music playing as ichigo tries to get rukia’s attention but she fucks off downstairs, but instead of doing shit he just does the worm on the floor*

which I guess is more realistic for a teenage boy, but Ichigo is literally traumatized by being unable to protect a family member. Y’all think a ghost he’s never seen before is gonna stop him?

Yooo, pathetic. #NotMyIchigo

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carewyncromwell · 3 years

Photo

“Oh, you're everything I'm wanting -- Come to think of it, I'm aching... On account of my transgression, Will you welcome this confession? Could this be out of line? Could this be out of line, To say you're the only one breaking me down like this? You're the only one I would take a shot on -- Keep me hanging on so contagiously...” ~“So Contagious” by Acceptance

x~x~x~x

In Estrid Soelberg’s @thatravenpuffwitch sixth year, there was a noticeable shift in the kelpie who’d taken on the identity of Rudolph Ollivander. Ru was as snarky and anti-status-quo as ever, but they also didn’t seem to look upon everyone with so much universal disdain or distrust. They would initiate a game of Wizard’s Chess with their fellow Ravenclaws now again, including Siobhan Llewelyn @kc-needs-coffee. They enjoyed spending time with Galen Stagg @cursebreakerfarrier, even going so far as to rope the meeker Gryffindor into helping him scare some of their classmates at the Shrieking Shack (which resulted in the two “running for the lives” to get away from their targets’ retaliation, Ru laughing their head off all the while). And with Estrid herself, Ru had actually started taking to asking her to dance with them and then whisking them away so that she wouldn’t have to deal with a hundred and one guys trying to court her at parties. Admittedly that particular behavior only made the rumor machine at school work double-time -- the entire school, it seemed like, saw Ru and Estrid as a couple, or at least sweet on each other, just because of how much time they spent together. It had been rather aggravating for both Ru and Estrid for a long time, even after they stopped actively hating each other and started nurturing a real friendship.

As their seventh year began, Ru’s relationships with both Galen and Estrid grew even closer. Before long, you wouldn’t see one without the other two. If Galen ever got bullied, Estrid and Ru would ride to his rescue. Whenever Estrid had to brave parties, Ru was her shadow, warding off all unwanted advances. And once, when Ru was challenged to a duel by a Gryffindor and one of his buddies and then attacked from behind upon them winning by throwing a potion in their opponent’s face, Galen went full-on “Papa Bear,” blocking the spell before it could land on Ru, disarming the bloke who’d attacked them, and sticking his wand right in the other Gryffindor’s face until he backed off. And as the three’s friendship grew stronger, Estrid really started to realize how much she dreaded the end of her time at Hogwarts. She’d miss spending time with Galen and Ru -- having them always there.

Ru in particular she hated the thought of saying goodbye to. As a kelpie, Ru had no real family, and they didn’t see themselves as having many prospects for a real future. They didn’t have very strong magic, and their life-span was short enough that they’d have trouble disguising themselves after a while.

“Sooner or later, any folks around me at a job or some such would start giving me the side eye,” Ru had said at the time, sounding rather grim and resigned, “they’d dismiss all the theories like botched Transfiguration or a Dark curse, and Bob’s your uncle, they’d figure out the truth. At that point...well. The game would really be over then, wouldn’t it?”

It was that masquerade that was central to Ru’s current life. They’d only gotten into Hogwarts by pretending to be Rudolph Ollivander, so without their identity as Rudolph, they didn’t have a pair of shoes to fill that wouldn’t arouse suspicion. And once that identity was taken from them and they were revealed for what they were, Ru seemed pretty convinced that no one would want to stick by them. They hadn’t even told Galen the truth about what they were yet, and Estrid suspected it was largely because they feared what their best friend would think, if he knew they’d stolen the identity of the Ravenclaw boy they’d drowned in the Lake four years ago. Estrid got the feeling that Ru was already preparing to say goodbye to their life as a human and retreat back to that solitary existence they led prior to attending Hogwarts...and that thought hurt Estrid. She hated the thought of Ru living out the rest of their life alone...only being able to look back at all of the fun things they did at Hogwarts, and never be able to try anything new ever again. Never be able to take any more pictures, or get any better at their crude animations, or even take a stroll through the pouring rain again...

The memory of the two of them dancing in the rain together the previous year rippled again over Estrid’s mind.

Ru had been so happy, just dancing with her in the rain and enjoying the squishing, squelching sounds made by their shoes and their sopping wet clothes. It just didn’t seem fair that someone who could be happy with so little had to condemn themselves to a life devoid of even those little pleasures. But could she really expect a wild creature to put their own self-preservation at risk -- expect Ru to actually brave the consequences of their past actions? As much fun as they had as a human, and as much fun as they had at school...well, it’d already seemed like they’d given up. Like they’d seen the writing on the wall and were prepared to go out quietly, like a very old cat sneaking out of the house to die in peace. And as human as they were...they were still a kelpie. Would they even be happy with the kind of life witches and wizards led post-Hogwarts -- one with structure, with employment and responsibilities -- with family?

Perhaps it was because of how guilty she felt about Ru’s situation that Estrid agreed to go with Ru when the kelpie decided to take advantage of the upcoming Hogsmeade weekend to sneak out to a photography exposition in a nearby Muggle town. It was likely because of his loyalty as a friend than Galen tagged along too...and perhaps because Siobhan Llewelyn had also caught wind that Ru was sneaking out and decided to tag along too.

It was a bit strange, dressing in something other than their school uniforms. Estrid had decided it would be practical to wear pants, since they’d probably have to be able to run quickly in case they got caught sneaking out or sneaking back in. She hadn’t been sure what Ru would do, exactly, since she’d never seen them in anything but their school uniform -- when Ru met up with them, though, dressed in a flared red hunting jacket and khaki trousers with no shirt underneath, she found herself completely unsurprised. Ru already never buttoned their uniform shirt, presumably because of how much they hated collars -- Estrid supposed it was only the next step, to walk around just in a jacket without any shirt on at all!

The exhibition showcased a series of so-called “moving pictures” -- compilations of still photographs that, when put together, created the illusion of movement. Magical photography tried to create such movement through the use of enchantments, like the kind used on enchanted portraits, but the technology of photography didn’t mesh well with those sorts of enchantments, since it was harder to “fold” the enchantments into the photographs the same way one could with paints, and so they were often poor quality and would often lose a lot of the magic trying to give them the ability to talk and move before long. But, as Ru pointed out to the others, these “moving pictures” the Muggles had developed could be played over and over and over again in a loop, and even if there was no sound included, the overall quality of the pictures remained the same.

“It doesn’t even try to recreate life, like wizards do with their pictures,” said Ru. “Instead it creates the illusion of life -- records one moment, rather than stupidly trying and failing to recreate everything that person was. And that one moment is enough! It’s more than enough. With that one moment recorded, you get all the information you need. You can fill in the blanks of everything else on your own.”

The four spent the day watching and enjoying moving pictures of walking in Paris, France, galloping horses, and even a girl feeding her cat. The entire time, Ru was transfixed, sitting awkwardly as ever on their chair between Estrid and Galen with their way-too-long legs crossed at a weird angle and leaning across their own lap to look at the pictures better. At one point, Ru leaned their head very far to the side close to Estrid, to try to see the picture from a certain angle, and their long black hair came down like a curtain beside Estrid’s face.

Biting back a laugh, Estrid carefully brought a hand up to smooth Ru’s hair out of her face. The gesture startled Ru and made them look at her.

“Here,” whispered Estrid with a fond smile.

She very gently reached up to tuck Ru’s hair behind their ear.

Ru’s face flushed slightly. Their electric blue eyes darted off to the side.

“...Thanks,” they muttered.

Close by, a couple of older matrons whispered amongst themselves.

“Ah, that’s how the couples are split, then -- left and right pairs -- ”

“Such a strange-looking pair on the right, wouldn’t you say?”

“Perhaps...but look at that dark-haired lad, he’s clearly smitten -- ”

“Is that a lad? Good heavens, that hair -- ”

Estrid shot a tired look over her shoulder.

“Sounds like people are jumping to that old conclusion again,” she said to Ru with a wry smile.

Ru was still blushing slightly, their mouth twisted in a frown. “...Mm.”

No snarky comment? That was odd. Ru would hardly ever pass up the chance to scoff about how humans’ ideas of “romance” and courting were utterly bizarre. Instead there was almost something...grim in their expression.

People wouldn’t be making that mistake anymore, Estrid thought sadly, if Ru disappeared back into the void, once their class graduated...

The kelpie returned their focus back to the screen, and Estrid followed suit gladly. At least it seemed Galen and Siobhan were too distracted talking amongst themselves to overhear.

Unfortunately the group couldn’t stay for the entire exposition, if they wanted to sneak their way back into school with the rest of the kids enjoying their Hogsmeade weekend without getting caught. And although Ru flagrantly ignored the rules most of the time, they seemed oddly concerned about the others’ feelings on the matter, for once.

“Don’t want your whole future getting derailed right as you’re reaching the finish line, do you?” they said rather gruffly.

Estrid had almost never heard the kelpie think of the future that way before. But, of course, even then...it was their friends’ futures. Not their own. Because they didn’t think they’d have any chance of a future themselves...

As the four sat together at the table in the Three Broomsticks, chatting and laughing over some butterbeers and pickled oysters, a fiery, robust feeling was slowly forming in Estrid’s chest, crystallizing and hardening like some kind of flaming hot diamond.

Ru deserved a future. Even if they had once drowned somebody and stolen his identity -- even if they’d nearly eaten a first year -- they’d grown so much since then, and Estrid had seen there was so much more to them since then. Ru deserved to be able to keep living as a human as long as they wanted. They deserved to live their life to its fullest, even if it was short. They deserved to have somewhere safe to go, even if everyone else found out the truth about what they were and turned their backs on them. ...They deserved to be happy.

“Estrid?”

Estrid felt a hand on her shoulder and looked up. It was Ru, looming over her like a shadow as always.

“Everyone’s getting ready to leave,” they prompted her.

Estrid looked up. All the students in the Three Broomsticks were gathering together in a clump that migrated toward the door. Galen and Siobhan had already started heading out too, whispering amongst themselves -- Galen shot a very quick glance over his shoulder at them and smiled before turning back to Siobhan.

“...So they are,” said Estrid.

Despite this, she found herself not immediately getting to her feet. She stayed seated for another moment, her eyes on the table. She could sense Ru watching her, but they didn’t speak again. They sensed that she was deep in thought and decided not to interrupt. It was something Estrid appreciated about Ru -- they were never afraid of silence.

Estrid closed her eyes, exhaled through her nose, and then opened her mouth to speak. Unfortunately, before she could, a voice cut her off.

“Come on, lovebirds!” crowed a particularly obnoxious Hufflepuff boy. “Don’t want to be left behind, do you?”

Both Ru and Estrid shot the boy a very dirty glare.

“We’re not lovebirds, Wilfred,” Estrid shot back dully.

She sighed.

“...What is it you like to say about silence being better than stuffing the space with useless words?” she asked Ru, her voice touched with dry amusement.

Ru avoided her eyes, frowning deeply again. “...Hn.”

The amusement slid off of Estrid’s face. No snarky response again?

“Ru?” she asked.

“What?” said Ru.

“Are you...” Estrid bit her lip, “...is there something on your mind?”

Ru gave a loud bluster through their nose and mouth. “I would damn well hope so -- I don’t know how so many people go around with nothing in their heads...”

Estrid relaxed noticeably despite herself.

“Well, now you’re sounding more like yourself, at least,” she said with another light sigh and a small smile. She rose from the bench at last. “Come on then...suppose we’d better catch up with Galen...”

She’d barely gotten all the way to her feet when she suddenly felt a light tap to her cheek.

Estrid turned her head. Ru had brought a hand up beside her face, their long pointer finger and thumb only touching her skin just enough to prompt her to look at them. They’d also bent down enough that the collar of their jacket gaped slightly, showing off the Adam’s apple and the top of the pale chest under their silver chain, and that Estrid’s and their faces were only a few inches apart.

“Estrid...”

Ru swallowed. Something seemed to harden in their electric blue eyes, and they plowed on bluntly.

“...Look -- I’m attracted to you, okay?”

Estrid gave a light start, but Ru pressed on, undeterred.

“I know it’s stupid, but I like you. I don’t need you to act any differently, and I’m not going to prance about like a show horse trying to make you like me too. If you don’t like me as I am, I’m not going to change myself so you do. The only reason I’m telling you is…”

They glanced away uncomfortably.

“...Well, for once, everyone else isn’t being stupid when they talk about me being interested in you – and I just thought you aughta know.”

They looked her full-on again.

“Now you do.”

Estrid was left speechless. Ru’s electric blue eyes were very intense, and more serious than she thought she’d ever seen them, as they removed their hands from Estrid’s shoulder and away from her face.

It was strange, for Ru’s face to be so serious. It made them look oddly grounded, steadfast...dedicated. Ru had never been particularly suave or romantic in their manner of speaking, but the bluntness in their tone only seemed to highlight how very truthful and sincere the sentiment behind their words was. It was...really quite sweet. It was like Ru had rested a warm hand over her heart, along with lightly touching her face. A hand that made her feel fuller and happier than she had in a really long time.

Estrid had already come to the thought that Ru wanted to stay as they were, as a human -- to keep enjoying little human pleasures like wearing earrings and taking pictures...but now she also knew for a fact that if Ru could...they would also stay. They wouldn’t just charge off into the sunset and disappear. They might even, if she asked, not hate the idea of living like a human -- of having a job and a home like a human, of dealing with everyday human problems...of settling down and laying down roots and...staying.

If she asked...Ru might stay.

“Ru...”

Estrid reached out and took hold of the red sleeve of their jacket, preventing them from completely straightening up.

“...Come home with me.”

Ru stiffened. “What?”

“After graduation,” Estrid clarified. Her words came out at a bit of a rush, despite her best efforts. “You can stay with my grandfather and me in Denmark. I’m sure Grandfather won’t mind. You could look into a job with the Daily Prophet -- they could use someone who knows what they’re doing with photography. And if you’re sending stuff in through Owl Post, no one’ll notice if you don’t look human...I can always answer the door, if someone comes to call and you’re not yourself...”

Ru stared down at her, not quite comprehending what they were hearing. Estrid could feel her face flushing, but she kept a brave face on all the same.

“...You don’t have to stay here all alone, Ru,” she said under her breath so no one else could hear. “I’ll help you protect your secret. And even if everyone does find out what you really are...I’ll stand by you.”

Ru seemed stunned. Their electric blue eyes ran over Estrid’s face, dipping in and out of her eyes and into the corners of her lips. They didn’t say anything for a long moment, but Estrid could sense they were searching her face for any flicker of doubt. When they didn’t find any, their face seemed to lose the rest of its color.

They bit their lip, looking hesitant in a way Estrid had never seen before.

“...You want me to follow you?” they asked very lowly. “To live with you?”

Estrid’s cheeks were burning, but she nodded all the same.

“Yes,” she said.

And as soon as she said the word, she realized how deeply and sincerely she meant it.

She wanted Ru to follow her. She...wanted them to stay with her.

Ru’s expression seemed to clear. Their face broke into a broad, beautiful smile, full of both a childish kind of delight and quiet, soothing relief. They bowed their head toward Estrid, their lightning-like eyes sparkling just like the silver chain on their neck.

“...Well, then...”

Ru brought a hand up to tuck some hair behind Estrid’s ear, trailing their long fingers through it so that it lay flat.

“...Guess you’ll be my ‘keeper’ a bit longer then...won’t you?”

Estrid felt her own lips curling up in a smile too. “...Guess so.”

“You’d better keep a tight hold of me,” Ru said with a mischievous smile. “Kelpies don’t tame easily.”

“Oh yes, I’m very well aware,” Estrid said coolly. “Your lack of table manners alone make that obvious.”

“Humans have hands, we may as well use them.”

Once Estrid’s hair was smooth enough for Ru’s liking, the kelpie’s smile grew a bit more wry as they extended their arm to her in a mockingly over-the-top formal gesture.

“Lead and I’ll follow, madam,” they said dryly.

Biting back a laugh, Estrid brought her arm down onto Ru’s and started to walk with them toward the door.

“Oh...and Ru?”

“Yeah?”

Estrid moved up onto the tips of her toes as she walked and just barely managed to graze their chin with her lips.

“I like you too,” she said softly.

Ru looked down at her, startled. They examined her face again, searching it for any hint of insincerity or teasing, but Estrid merely smiled.

“It is weird,” she admitted, “considering everything we’ve gone through -- where we started...”

“...What I really am,” Ru pointed out lowly, cocking an eyebrow.

Estrid nodded. “But, well...I guess both of us were always a little weird, to begin with.”

Very slowly, Ru’s lips spread into another beautiful smile, purer and happier than ever. They moved into Estrid, leaning down enough to rest their head down on her shoulder and gently nuzzle the crook of her neck.

“More than a little,” they whispered into her skin.

With a light pink flush to her cheeks, Estrid secured her hold on Ru’s arm, and Ru straightened up again as she led them out.

The pair left the pub together, perfectly unaware of how many people around them were exchanging Galleons.

Turns out that Ru and Estrid had been the subject of quite a few bets around both Hogwarts and Hogmeade village.

#hphl #hogwarts legacy #my art #ru ollivander #estrid soelberg #galen stagg #siobhan llewelyn #my writing #yesssss our two gender-role-defying victorians!!#when I found out estrid likes wearing pants I knew I just had to draw her in them at some point #particularly since ru just doesn't give AF about staying inside the gender binary #they may present male but if they like something out of comfort or because it's pretty then they will wear it #hence why collared shirts are a no but flared coats earrings and long hair are a yes #hope I did estrid justice lovely!! xoxo

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lambourngb · 3 years

Note

re: your tags on that one post abt plotholes in rnm: what are the plotholes that make you lose the most sleep?

(this is my main btw, my rnm blog is @curlyguerin )

Hi! Okay... strap in, because there are a lot of little and big things that wiggle into my thoughts and makes me wonder ...am I the only one who couldn't follow that plotline?

In my opinion RNM suffers more from abandoned narratives and continuity errors than plot holes I guess, since we only have 2 seasons, with at least 2 more to go I guess I can hope they come back to these issues... but: [Under the cut plus some spoilers for season 3]

Things I would like explained :

1. What did Jesse Manes fund with family money in 1x08 ? I'm guessing it was surveillance of the town and the search for more aliens that could have escaped the military in 1947-1948. The idea that Jesse funded Caulfield is just laughable to me, along with how he was able to get his Army-assigned son moved from Germany to New Mexico for 5 years and no one noticed?? Caulfield has to be separate from whatever Jesse was doing in Roswell. Clearly there is still an ACTIVE military project focused on aliens because Flint isn't AWOL, Flint also takes Noah's body to Area 51, so where was Jesse in violation of his orders (Alex's threat to Jesse in 1x08 and then shipping him to Niger)? Surveilling citizens and setting up cameras all over town?

2. Did they ever build an Air Force base on the Fosters Homestead Ranch? (1x01-1x02) ...then it's never mentioned again.

3. I am aware I am the only one who cares about this little bit, but the show seemed to set up a narrative in season 1 about the spotlight Roswell shined white victims of crimes - like Katie and Jasmine, that the town of Roswell holds quite a lot of racism regarding justice- vilifying Rosa for over 10 years, ignoring the deaths of people around Ranchero Night, and then Noah kills Wyatt Long's best friend Hank Gibbons in 1x13. I dunno, I was expecting more from Wyatt in season 2 about this than picking a fight with Michael over Mimi's missing persons sheet and showing up with a crossbow in 2x04. And like, there was a theme of people going missing in season 2!! Mimi, Jenna, the weird twins from 2x06, Charlie -- but yet, no closer scrutiny by Sheriff Valenti other than her focus on Max Evans and the story about Mexico- Like this felt not like a plot hole, but a dropped narrative -- to wrap up the fate of Racist Hank in a missing persons sheet in 2x01. To treat him weirdly like all of Noah's other victims (who were women and men of color and poor), but for a few factors like he was white, he had actual lines in the show over a couple of episodes, and he's one of the few townspeople we learn his first and last name still sticks out in my mind as strange. The Doylist explanation is the actor wasn't available for season 2, but the Watson-perspective of this is just someone the in-show universe doesn't care about ...? Okay. I will keep that in mind, and try to ignore the fact that the town of Roswell swings wildly back to caring about white victims again in 2x13 with Jesse Manes.

4. The Alighting from 1x13 - just how far away was it from happening? Noah was ready to stick a sheriff's deputy, the town event planner and Michael (who probably would be been the only one to go missing without much fanfare, except maybe by Alex) into a pod...for how long? Months? Years? What was his endgame? how did he expect to go unnoticed by the town while he waited for his alien salvation/alien UBER to arrive? Could he just mindwarp everyone into forgetting about the pod squad? Since we didn't see any alien ships show up in the six months from 1x13 to 2x13, and no further follow up by any of our heroes about what Noah was babbling about... I'm going to say this should come back into play for season 3, otherwise it's the most egregious plot hole from season 1.

5. Why did Flint want to work with Helena? Jesse had this master plan that Helena knew all about apparently but she never shares the plan with Flint? Jesse never shares this plan with Flint either? Why? As far as I can tell from the plot of season 2, Jesse takes the console piece from Alex, he was going to kill Alex to keep him out of the way, use the console to blow up civilians, he created a paper trail that pointed the finger at Max, and then when everyone knew the truth about aliens, he was going to use HIS atomizer bomb to release the toxin that Charlie had already developed for Project Shepherd to kill all the aliens.... WHY would Flint want to stop that, especially since they fight in 2x11 over how slow Jesse was moving in his plans? Other than objecting to killing Alex, why would Flint turn Alex over to Helena to blackmail Michael into building a second atomizer bomb? He should have just kept Alex out of the way until it was all over and let Jesse proceed with his plans. Flint's desire to work with Helena Ortecho remains a plot hole to me, that is explained in the most flimsy way of he thinks his dad isn't serious about killing all the aliens even though he has the means? And if he takes Alex from Jesse's control so easily, why not steal the bomb Jesse had too?

6. These are more gripes about continuity, not really plot holes, but the fact we have this loose timeline of events but it doesn't match the weather of filming.... Like Heather Hemmens looked so gorgeous in that little silk outfit in 2x01, but she's wandering outside in Dec in Roswell New Mexico looking like that. I get that it was filmed in August/Sept of 2019 but come on... so my main frustration is I have no idea what season and month is supposed to be on screen. Universe timeline says Winter but filming schedule meant it was early fall with still having the heat of summer there...then the show ends in May/June in the universe, but we all know RNM wrapped in Dec 2019/Jan 2020 so they are all bundled up in winter again.

7. Also on continuity, small things like Rosa's birthday being wrong, the fact her astrological sign isn't Pieces for either date, openly letting Greg Manes see Rosa, not seeming to care that Liz's ex-fiance hears that Rosa is alive - like i'm sure her "dead" sister came up in conversation between Liz/Diego

- the show gives us this beautiful conversation with Michael sharing his background with Alex in 1x10, but then Alex completely forgets it in 2x04 by dropping some line like "this is what you do with family" when Michael expresses confusion about a height chart. Also, on the same note- the jabs about the Library being a dive bar, also felt like a drop in continuity because Alex knows that Michael just lost his mom (1x12) , the government IS studying aliens, and his brother is in a pod, so like, he has some very valid reasons to drink if that's what he wanted to do with in his life in early season 2!! but, also he knows Michael is a genius??

- Why Alex never mentions Rosa, Isobel's blackouts/why Michael gave up UNM, or even hint about what happened with his dad in the shed during his conversation with Maria in 2x05 is also beyond bizarre to me. It was an "information" dump conversation that Alex still doesn't share all the information he has about a situation and just ends up looking kind of judgmental in my opinion.

- the truck conversation in 2x06 between Maria and Alex, why Maria prompts a girl's name when Alex says he's never been in a real relationship INSTEAD of addressing the very real elephant in the room, Michael Guerin, that they had a conversation about in 2x05- also feels like a gap in continuity.

8. Science wise- the pathogen that Charlie developed? It was supposed to be so specific that it could kill a leader of Al Quada and all of their direct descendants but leave the rest of the population unharmed. [Which um, that's a war crime, but whatever!] How was Maria affected? the DNA they had at Caulfield to develop it - like, Maria was descended from Louise and Louise lived free. The only person that pathogen SHOULD have affected was Michael (if they used Nora to base it on) Unless you're telling me that there's some protein in "alien dna" that is so specific to aliens, that no other human shares it, but also so completely undetectable that Kyle couldn't find it in Maria's blood... ? I suppose it's possible. I hope we get more explanation about that in season 3. It makes me wonder why Caulfield/Project Shepherd ever let Patty Harris go after she volunteered for some study then, and remained content to just pay her medical bills through a fake insurance company? [But also didn't flag Mimi and all the doctors that Maria took her to???]

9. Michael's hand. I'm going to reserve judgment about this, because some of my salt on this is based on season 3 promo pictures, but I really thought that moment in 2x13 when he takes off his hat, while Alex is singing, you see him without the wrapping on his hand, that maybe he found some peace with Jesse dead and demolishing the shed with Alex. But then it looks like the hand-danna is all over season 3, right up until the finale of season 3, so... was that a mistake in wardrobe AND not a beautiful moment of character growth??? I wish I could extend some grace to RNM about that, but alas... see above for why I have trust issues.

10. Perhaps I wasn't watching season 1 closely, but I thought Noah's madness was brought on by the fact he was stuck in his pod? That it was "lower class travel accommodations" and Isobel's scream at 13 got his attention? I assumed that he stayed in the pod, possessing Isobel on and off, right up until he used her body to kill Rosa in 2008, absorbing enough power to break out. So how did Noah find Jim Valenti so quickly? If it was through Isobel's memories, then why did Jim not immediately have Noah, some random alien approaching him about his recently dead daughter, hauled off to Caulfield? Jim pays $1,000 for Rosa's body, putting her in a pod [Noah's broken pod??] and stores her, waiting for...something? An alien to come along to bring her back. So did Jim know about The Savior? Why would Jim work with Noah and vice versa? Again, I'm hoping we get more about this in season 3.

11. Was there a point of keeping Alex in the Air Force? He arranges a place for them to work on bringing Max back, but I feel like anyone could have done that? Like Isobel had money, she could have rented a storage facility. All of the equipment was borrowed from the hospital, not the military. The information about 1947-1948 was from the drives decoded from Caulfield or the AAR report left by Flint in the Project Shepherd bunker (which again was decommissioned, not an active military installation). I could support the decision if it had provided some richness to the plot or some conflict within the character, neither of which really happened. Alex hacking the government and going undercover in the Air Force to protect Michael is basically fanon. I love that fanon, but alas...

12. Finally, the time jump. What year are we jumping into? 2020? 2021? Why does it make me think none of those questions above will be answered.

#rnm thoughts #season 3 thoughts #very long post #season 2 had tons of important conversations happen off screen #and tons of ooc conversations happen on screen #hopefully that changes in season 3

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xiaomoxu · 3 years

Text

West Moon (坠月之宴) Chapter 2 Part.ONE

⚠️ SPOILER ALERT!! ⚠️

A story from CN server which hasn’t been released in EN server. Contains detailed spoiler from the AU (Alternated Universe) - 坠月之宴 West Moon Story.

Read the previous chapter here

There’s some sub-chapter which full of battle stage so I didn’t put it here.

Stories under the cut-

Chapter 2-1

You are my only dream.

The wind passed through the bamboo forest that day,

I passed by a good dream.

Want to hear the sound

But he strayed into a scene in spring.

It broke the black city.

This time,

Who disturbed whom?

The jade chess piece fell on the chessboard with a crisp sound and broke the silence around.

I opened my eyes in the mist, and the sky light had dimly lit up for unknown time.

The morning breeze brushed over the bamboo leaves, blowing away the mist, and the green lake in the distance also had its starting point ripples.

The stone tables and benches are still the same, but the pavilions surrounded by bamboo shadows make me feel a bit strange.

MC: Strange. Where am I?

At the last moment of my memory, obviously still staying in the backyard of the wine shop.

I propped up and looked down at the table that had just fallen. The magic qin that was originally placed on the stone table was gone, only a criss-cross chessboard.

On the chessboard, black and white pieces are clearly distinguished, and white pieces are surrounded by black pieces.

There was no smell of demons around, I faintly breathed a sigh of relief, and began to wonder if I was in a dream.

The situation in this dream seems to be familiar, as if I have seen it many times in the past.

During the three years of deep sleep, my consciousness has been trapped in long dreams for some reason. The blurry and chaotic dreams are like fragments of colored glaze, which cannot be put together into a complete picture.

Sometimes I traveled in the wilderness, sometimes in the purgatory, every dream, whether absurd or cruel, is a long torment.

But occasionally there will be moments when the breeze comes, like this pavilion.

MC: Will I see that person again this time?

Inexplicably, I have a kind of expectation in my heart that I can't express

There was no one around, so I picked up the white piece on the side of the chessboard and placed it according to the memory in my dream.

The person who played against me doesn't know where it came from

In my dream, the five senses are not working at all times. I don't remember his appearance very much, but I still remember a little voice.

Dreamer: You messed up like this

His voice seemed to sound in my ears again, and I was slightly lost. The chess piece between my fingers had just landed on a corner of the chessboard, and a gust of breeze suddenly passed over the bamboo forest behind me.

??: If you play in such a mess, you will ruin the game.

A gentle voice rang in the ear, as if overlapping with the voice in the memory.

I turned around subconsciously, but a pair of hands came from behind and surrounded me.

The wide sleeves engraved overturned the chess game in front of him, and the black and white chess pieces rolled to the ground, making a jade-like sound.

The temperature that was about to fit behind my back came through the thin clothes. I was shocked, suppressing the exclamation from my mouth.

MC: ... It's you.

With a chuckle in my ear, the temperature that surrounded me left.

Mysterious Man: We meet again.

There is a faint smile on the corners of his lips, and his gradually clear face gradually overlaps with the figure in the dream

MC: It's you who helped me repel those monsters. Who are you?

I squeezed my sleeves tightly and looked calmly at the person sitting opposite.

He didn't explain, letting his sleeves skimmed over the messy chess pieces on the table, he twisted a black piece casually.

Although the hidden energy in his body is strange, but he has no devilish energy in his body, and he does not look like a bad person...

But maybe because of the little bit of familiarity, or maybe because he saved me once, I didn't feel nervous.

MC: Sorry, I didn't mean to play this game of chess...

Mysterious Man: How can you conclude that this game of chess is mine just because I am here?

I was choked by his words, turned around and had to ask again.

MC: Where exactly is this?

Mysterious Man: Don't you know it?

He did not directly affirm my guess, but I still feel that he seems to be suggesting something.

MC: Why... you appear in my dream?

Mysterious Man: How do you know this is your dream, maybe you broke into my dream?

I froze for a moment, and met his dim eyes.

Those eyes were like cold pools with no bottom, but just a moment of looking at each other gave me a suffocating feeling of oppression.

But he casually continued to play with the chess pieces.

Mysterious Man: Or, the owner of the dream is not you and me.

Hearing what he said, I seemed to really feel the prying eyes in the dark.

"Shooㅡ"

The abrupt sound made my whole body tremble, and I turned back abruptly, but only a bamboo leaf fell to the ground.

I breathed a sigh of relief. A thin layer of sweat had formed on my back, but the uncomfortable feeling had not disappeared.

MC: When will this dream end?

I desperately wanted to leave the dream, but the only insider hid the chess pieces and placed them on the messy chessboard.

Mysterious Man: Can you play chess?

MC: .... I understand a little.

He looked up at me with a smile but didn't reveal my clumsy chess skills.

Mysterious Man: There is a way of talking in chess called "raid".

Mysterious Man: Once the catastrophe occurs, the two sides will be trapped in a cycle of incomprehension. Therefore, after the raid, one party can pick up one son, and the other must make another move before the raid can be resolved.

Although I don't know how to play chess, I know a little about these terms, but I don't know why he mentioned this.

Mysterious Man: The catastrophe in this game is you.

I heard it inexplicably, but it seemed that I knew what he was talking about, and looked at him more defensively.

MC: When you will tell me your identity?

He did not answer, playing with the last sunspot on his fingertips. When I looked down, I realized that the previous game had been restored by him, but my white piece was missing.

Mysterious Man: This game of chess cannot be returned.

He sighed softly and threw the black stone between his fingers to the chessboard.

With a light "break" in, something was pierced.

Like a calm lake being broken by flying stones, the ripples in front of my eyes are like dissolving ink and still water.

I can't see his appearance, only the figure blurred by the waves seems to be reflected on the other side of the water.

Mysterious Man: We will meet again soon. By then, you will know who am I.

His voice gradually dissipated, and the cyan layers in front of me faded away. I woke up like a dream. I shook my dizzy head and found that the person before me was gone.

And there was no such splendid bamboo forest and water pool around. Fortunately, I was in the courtyard of the wine shop, and the magic qin was quietly placed on the stone table.

The sun in the sky has just risen, and from time to time we hear the singing of birds and the shouts of the morning vendors in the deep alleys in the distance.

MC: Was it a dream just now?

I rubbed my swollen temples, still echoing what the man said.

What he meant by the robbery in the game...what exactly did he mean?

Before I could think of a reason, a small shouting came from behind me.

When I turned around, the lady boss was looking at me in surprise.

Boss lady: MC, why are you here early in the morning?

Boss lady: ...Did you sit here all night?

Suddenly seeing a real figure appear in front of my eyes, I couldn't help but lose consciousness for a moment, and the lady boss suddenly saw that something was wrong with me.

Boss lady: What happened?

MC: Nothing, I was a little tired recently and fell asleep accidentally.

I shook my head, afraid that she was worried, so I concealed the bizarre dream.

Boss lady: The weather hasn't warmed up yet, what should I do if you catch a cold? Go back to your room and freshen up!

My mind gradually returned to clarity, and I nodded to her.

Whether it is this mysterious dream, fragments, or maybe the puzzles in the magic qin. For me now, they are hard to solve.

I took the magic qin back to the room and locked it, changed my clothes and planned to find the master.

After all, now only the master can tell me how to take out the fragments.

Chapter 2-2

When I walked out of Three Dreams Square, the sky was already bright.

The street is bustling today, and the crowds are rushing in the same direction.

The golden sun shines over the glazed dome on the palace building. The water fell on the tall white platform standing in the far north of the city.

That is the tallest and most sacred building here.

My heart was slightly still, and then I realized that today is the day of sacrifice for the West Moon.

My steps uncontrollably followed the flow of people to the pure white platform, but an indescribable complex emotion surged in my heart.

The worship of West Moon Kingdom has always been presided over by the master. And I will also stand on that high platform during the annual ceremony.

Suddenly, there was a burst of exclamation and noise from the crowd. At the same time, the vigorous bell rang from the northernmost end and awakened the entire city.

Commoners: It's an envoy of God!

My heart jumped suddenly and I raised my head. As expected, there was a man in profound clothes standing on the towering hidden spirit platform.

It's Master!

The lingering sound of the bell dissipated, and everyone's voices fell silent, except for the hunting sound of the dark blue curtain being blown by the wind.

First, the hundred officials, and then all the people at the banquet bowed down and worshiped, toward the direction.

That tall, sacred and inviolable figure is the only person who can communicate with God in this world, and it is also the belief of West Moon Kingdom.

It is the gods who have guarded this country for hundreds of years since the establishment of this country

I looked at the master's back, and my heart shook slightly.

Master... was also the one who saved my life.

The sacrificial ceremony ended in a solemn sound of bells and drums. Seeing the master's figure leave from the high platform, I wrapped my cloak, passed through the crowd, and continued to the hidden spirit platform.

There was a commotion behind him, and there was a rush of horse hooves galloping in this direction.

Passersby: Hey, girl! Be carefulㅡ

I didn't have time to get back to my senses, and there was a scream of horses behind me, and the sound of horses hooves close at hand, as if it was about to hit me in the next second!

I quickly flashed aside, and the tall horse passed me by, and the turbulent wind almost turned the cap on my head.

In a hurry, I had to saw the teenager on the horse.

The teenager who rides by has a handsome face, and his long hair is also raised high, with a strange color in the daylight.

MC: Why is he?!

I was shocked, I quickly held down the veil, turned and flashed into the dark alley, fearing that the little magic star would notice.

Passersby: The second prince is out of the palace again?

This person has always been arrogant. A few years ago, His Majesty controlled him strictly and would not let him out of the palace easily. How can he let him go on the streets now?

Teenager: What's going on today? I will definitely teach you a lesson when I go back!

The sound of horse hooves finally stopped. I hid behind the crowd and heard the familiar voice sternly scolding the restrained horse, but his tone soon softened again.

Teenager: Don't be afraid, I won't use you to make horse meat hot pot.

MC: This person, as expected, is still the same...

The officers and soldiers in the distance had already rushed over, and I quickly lowered the brim of my hat and flashed into the market with my back facing them.

I don't know how long this worry about being discovered will last.

Fortunately, the sacrifice was still going on, there was no one around, and I came to Master's residence with little effort.

Haven't seen it for three years, the layout here is still the same as I remember.

Except for the necessary living utensils, there is nothing else, spotless, still cold and not like the place where people live.

I lifted my foot and walked in.

The warm sunlight flooded into the room through the window, and a new set of clothes was placed in a tray on the table, neatly folded.

I'm not familiar with the patterns on this dress. There was nostalgia in my heart, and I subconsciously stretched out my hand to touch it.

This is the uniform of the Miko. It is also the clothes I used to wear once a year.

In the past three years, I was in a long dream, and the rituals of the hidden secret was forced to shelve for three years.

There are not a few months left before this year's ceremony for the secret ceremony, is there already a new selection of Miko in the middle of the kingdom?

At this moment, there was a muffled noise from the back of the temple, and the ground shook.

My heart shuddered, and I recognized that the abrupt sound came from the backyard.

The backyard has always been a forbidden place for the master, and the master is still presiding over the sacrifice. Who would be there?

Listening to the movement, I had a bad feeling for some reason. Although it is a forbidden area, I haven't broken into it before.

Thinking like this, I stood up and walked towards the door to the backyard

Suddenly there was a door opening behind me, and there was a scream in my heart.

MC: Master is back!

Fortunately, the Master hadn't entered the room yet, so I went back to the room and picked up a book, pretending to look through it.

The familiar sound of footsteps gradually approached, and I lowered the book I opened and couldn't help but go to the door.

It might have been expected that there would be someone in the house, and the master had not even entered the door, and a cold voice had already come in.

Master: You are not allowed to come in without my consent next time.

Chapter 2-3

My heart sank, Master was not so indifferent to me in the past.

The door opened with a "creak", and the master stepped in at the answer, and I quickly raised a smile.

MC: Master, you're back!

Master: Why are you here?

Master seemed a little surprised when he came in and saw me. His previous clothes had been changed, and the sense of distance that he could not reach seemed to fade with it.

MC: There are some things to ask Master for help.

He was startled, and nodded faintly.

MC: Master, I seemed to hear noises in the forbidden area just now, and I don't know if someone broke into it by mistake.

Master sat down opposite me, as if he didn't hear my reminder, and asked directly.

Master: What’s wrong?

MC: .....It's not a very important thing either.

I took a deep breath and started telling stories directly.

MC: Yesterday, when I was in the back of the wine shop, a qin suddenly fell from the sky.

Anyway, no matter what excuses, Master would not believe it. I simply let go of my courage.

MC: Who knew there was a hidden crystal fragment in this qin, It may also be that the hidden crystal fragments in my body have the power to summon.

MC: So I want to ask Master how to take out the fragments.

Master listened to my clumsy lie without saying a word, and there was no wave on his face.

MC: If you don't find the pieces quickly...

I paused and swallowed back the words.

Master: Wait for me here.

The master retracted his hand and walked towards the hall. I looked at his back in a daze.

These three years are just a long dream for me, but for Master, what three years are they?

Soon, Master took out an exquisite and simple black box.

Master: Take this with you and don't lose it.

MC: What is this?

I took the palm-sized black box from him, it heavier than I thought, and there's chilly sensation, as if some kind of energy was attached to it.

Master: This is the box of retreat, which can help you recover the fragments attached to their media.

Master: But before taking it back, the body attached to the fragments must be annihilated.

He motioned to me to open the box. I opened the lid of the box curiously, but found that there was nothing in the box.

I just wanted to ask, suddenly a chill spread across my body, and the spar on my chest actually resonated faintly.

Master: Feel it?

MC: Yes... I feel it.

I nodded, only feeling that my heart was filled with this strange yet familiar energy in the box.

This energy is indeed as sacred and clean as the master, but for some reason, I somehow remembered the power that I felt in Three Dreams Square last night.

That kind of pure and evil power.

Master: What's wrong?

As if he saw me distracted, and frowned slightly. His voice brought me back to my sense.

MC: Nothing, thank you Master.

In any case, Master will never harm me.

Having figured this out, I immediately put aside the worries I had just now.

Master glanced at me, and was about to ask something, suddenly there was a knock on the door.

The visitor was the emperor's attendant, and he was asking Master to go to the palace to discuss matters. Master responded and looked at me again when he got up.

Master: Be careful.

MC: Thank you Master, Master, take care.

Seeing the corner of the black robe disappear behind the door, I carefully put the box of retreat into my arms. I looked around, the voice I heard before was still suspicious

At this glance, I noticed that there were still a few brightly colored red spirit fruits on the table, which seemed to have just been picked off.

I couldn't help but murmur in my heart: Does master like this kind of fruit so much?

I thought about it, grabbed a piece of fruit on the table, and ate it as I went outside, when I suddenly heard a strange noise in the courtyard.

MC: Who?!

I stopped and looked around warily.

I don’t know if it’s my illusion. From the moment I enter the door, I feel like I have a pair of invisible eyes watching in secret.

While I was fully alert, a civet cat suddenly got out of the bushes and shook all the blades of grass.

Those black eyes looked at me, and then ran away quickly.I was relieved, speeded up and walked out.

After walking far away, my heart choked suddenly. Master's courtyard has always been a place where all the beasts are kept away. How come there are civet cats?

I looked back at the ebony gate in the distance. The stone lion head is majestic, but I suddenly feel a little ominous.

Is something wrong with the master?

When hesitating where to go next. Suddenly something was faintly hot in sleeve.

I took out and looked, and found that it was the black feather that fell from the boy in the dark alley yesterday.

The black feather was faintly glowing and deflected in my palm. I moved my palm, and it moved with it.

This is... pointing a direction?

My heart moved, and there was a subtle curiosity that the young man was calling me, or just my intuition?

For some reason, I always feel that the boy who held a sharp knife yesterday will not hurt me. And I even have an urge to see him again.

I thought for a moment and walked in the direction that black feather pointed out.

Chapter 2-5

Following the direction guided by it, I gradually heard the noisy voices not far away.

This strange feather did not lead me to the remote and deep alley as I thought.

MC: Could it be that I was thinking wrong?

Not far away, the people watching the crowds in the city square went inside and outside for several times. I lowered my head and dialed the black potassium in my hand, but it slowly turned back to this direction.

MC: Okay, just let me see what you want to lead me into.

From time to time there was exclamation and applause from the crowd. I stood on tiptoe and looked around for a long time, only to see a golden hair top in the distance.

Looking at this posture, it seems that some strangers are performing some novel tricks.

The city have always been a place where foreign business travelers gather. Ordinary tricks have long been popular. Why is it so lively today?

MC: Excuse me.

I squeezed into the crowd and saw a round table in the open space, there's stood a light blond boy.

His facial features are a bit unreal and delicate, and his friendly and clear smile has narrowed the distance again. No wonder the business is so prosperous.

At this moment, he turned his head to the side of my sight in the crowd.

MC: It's you?!

This boy is clearly the assassin I ran into in the alley that night!

My exclamation stuck in my throat. The boy's eyes seemed to stop on me for a short time, and a trace of surprise flashed in his eyes, and he continued to look away from the crowd.

I confirmed that I didn't mistake the look in his eyes. But is this hearty blond boy really the same person as the silver-haired assassin who raised his sword?

If only the looks are similar, why would that black feather guide me here?

I subconsciously pulled the curtain down, intending to observe again.

The blond boy fetched an empty bowl and quivered back and forth. A stream of clear water poured out of the bowl.

The crowd suddenly cheered, and his fingers tapped the side of the bowl flexibly, and smiled as he spread the water around him like a flower.

I was caught off guard, so I had to lift the half-wet gauze on my hat.

At this time, someone screamed again, and I ignored the water droplets. I was surprised to see a red koi suddenly jump out of the bowl held by the young man.

There is a row of small fish tanks under his feet. As he rotates, the red and gold fish jump into the tank one by one from a high place, splashing clear water.

But the scene did not last. Sudden shouts rang from behind the crowd, interrupting the boy's performance.

I turned my head and looked like everyone else, and saw that the city guards appeared.

Guards: Today, the whole city is under martial law, no one can stay here!

Passerby: Why did the martial law suddenly come?

Passerby: I heard that the second prince was stabbed at the city gate just now, and I don't know if it was because of this...

I hadn't heard it really, the people watching the excitement were quickly scattered, and those who were slow were pushed a few times.

These brave guards do not seem to maintain order, but rather come to add chaos.

I wiped the drops of water on my face, pulled the veil down again, and quickly entered the crowd.

Guards: The one in the hat, stop! Take off the hat!

My heart sank suddenly, pretending not to hear, bowed my head and walked forward quickly.

Guards: I'm talking to you! The one in front, stop for me!

The officers and soldiers behind we shouted, and the curious eyes all around fell on me.

Oh no!

The situation is critical now, and I cannot expose myself in any case.

There was a burst of brisk laughter behind.

The conjurer put down the water bottle, jumped lightly from the stage, and stopped between me and the guards.

MC: ...Get out of here!

I lowered my voice, my anxious heart couldn't hold back and was about to pop out

He bends down deafly, picked up a small white porcelain fish tank, and put it in my hand without any explanation.

I stared blankly at the fish tank in my hand, a small red and white fish swimming slowly in the water.

Mysterious Boy: For you.

He blinked, and before I could reply, he turned to face the guards.

Mysterious Boy: All the adults also join the show, how about my newly learned trick?

Guards: Get out of the way and don't hinder official duties!

The boy was not angry, but smiled and reached into his arms to get something, but after a while he took out a handful of soybeans.

The guards were about to get angry. The corners of the young man’s lips were raised, and his hands were held together. The soybeans thrown high into the sky turned into yellow coins.

Passersby: It's money now! Pick up the money!

People scrambled to pick up the copper coins scattered on the ground, and the streets that had just been evacuated were instantly blocked.

Guards: Hey, don't run!

He grab my hand and ran forward. Seeing that my hood was about to be blown away by the wind, he quickly reached out and pressed my head.

MC: Youㅡ

Guards: Find me that guy!

In a hidden alley, facing this familiar face, I didn't know what to say for a while.

MC: You, you run too fast.

Mysterious Boy: I will lead them away first, and you will wait for me somewhere else.

MC: Somewhere else?

He pointed to the back, and a large tree was far from behind the high wall that was twisted and looped.

MC: You mean, we will meet there later

Before I got a confirmed answer, I was pushed out by him and involuntarily rejoined the crowd.

And he slid in the direction he had come, but turned his head halfway, as if confirming, and glanced at me from a distance.

The guards saw him as the most conspicuous in the crowd at a glance immediately shouted and rushed over.

The young man shook his hand in the air, a burst of golden smoke suddenly exploded in the air, and the lazy smile on his lips was so beautiful and dazzling.

My hand was empty and I lowered my head. The little goldfish disappeared along with the fish tank.

Without thinking about it, I tightened my veil and hurried to the place he said before.

There was no one in the depths of the alley, only an old tree.

There are still some dirty child footprints and messy feathers scattered under the trees.

MC: Strange, has anyone else been here?

With many doubts, I hesitated for a moment, but decided to wait for him.

I don't know if it's because he just offered to help, or the lingering sense of familiarity that always lingers in my heart.

But how could he and the assassin I met in the dark alley be the same person?

There was a sound of footsteps in the quiet alley. I turned around and held my breath nervously.

MC: Youㅡ

However, it was not the boy who appeared in front of me, but a few tall men in black. The leader saw my face and sneered.

Man in black: Finally found it.

I took two steps back quickly. I didn't know where these people came from, but I felt the strong murderous aura in them.

MC: Wait a minute! Did you admit the wrong person?

The man in black didn't listen to my excuse. He raised his hand to his companion behind him, and showed a dark color around his waist without warning.

MC: A Talisman? Are you a Master?!

The black-clothed man's eyes dimmed suddenly, and I realized that I shouldn't be so reckless. He knew that I had discovered his identity and would only want to kill me even more.

MC: We.... Let's talk first, in fact, I am also a master of the hermit, and I just joined yesterday. Everyone is a colleague...

Man in black: Stop talking nonsense, come on!

–

Read Part.TWO here

#mlqc #mlqc cn #mlqc west moon #west moon #mlqc spoilers #mlqc translation #mlqc victor #mlqc lucien #mlqc gavin #mlqc kiro

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forevercloudnine · 3 years

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batman forever riddlebat ship meme

(This one was inevitable. God, do I love this movie. @heroes-etc gave me questions from this ship meme.)

2. Who is the most insecure and what makes them feel better?

The obvious answer here is Edward because he is... clearly and pathologically insecure in his identity and requiring outside approval. You could argue he gets over this once he adopts his flamboyant supervillain identity, but as soon as he steps out of it to be Edward Nygma again he’s as self-conscious as ever. On some level his Bruce cosplay at the Nygmatech party is probably supposed to be a dig at his former idol, but it’s pretty transparent that he’s paranoid about not measuring up, especially once Bruce actually walks in.

As for what makes him feel better, two obvious high points of his self-esteem right off the bat (lol) are when Bruce is giving him positive attention in his intro scene, and directly afterwards when he’s murdering his boss for ragging on him.

Of course, neither external validation or murder is, like, a permanent solution to insecurity. Obviously. If they ever got together Bruce would probably make him go to therapy, which would be incredibly hypocritical because, as Dr. Meridian points out in this movie, that’s not exactly something Bruce is doing. Although in Bruce’s defense, if you count the novelizations as canon for this continuity, the psychiatrist Alfred hired for him as a child basically wrote him off as a lost cause that was going to inevitably self-destruct at some point in adulthood. So I can see why he’d think therapy isn’t for him.

"Young Bruce may seem quite the stalwart, but there’s still a child beneath that veneer of calm acceptance [...] The day will come when that veneer crumbles, and the boy reacts to the memory of his ordeal. Such matters may be postponed, but not indefinitely. And the longer this one is delayed, the greater the damage will be to his psyche.”

“Still,” Alfred pressed. “How do you think this will all come out? Off the record, if you prefer.”

Another pause. “I am not terribly optimistic,” the stout man admitted. “But I assure you, I will do my best.”

Alternatively, Bruce just lets Edward borrow his clothes and calls it a day. It’s less time consuming than therapy and both the movie and novelization demonstrate how into that Edward is.

He was murmuring to himself, “We’ll probably be dining at Wayne Manor together.” He envisioned Bruce sitting across from him, and began to launch into a narrative [...] “Yes. Yes. A Party in my honor? I should have rented a tuxedo. What?” he couldn’t believe it, “One of yours, Bruce?” He gave it a moment’s thought and then shrugged. “Why not? We are the same size.”

3. Who is the most romantic?

Uh, not Bruce! Batman Forever is the most thoughtfully romantic he gets in the entire series, and even here his only two dates ideas are “whatever Gotham social event my secretary tells me I need a date for” and “coming on to my date in my alternate identity to see if she loves me enough not to cheat on me with Batman.” Also, he vacillates between staunchly refusing to do any flirting at all and dishing out the least romantic pick-up lines possible.

You say “bad writing,” I say “totally in character for a hot rich guy who knows that this is as hard as he has to try to get into someone’s pants.” Bruce might love his partner with the intensity of a thousand dying suns, but he’s still sending Alfred to buy all their Valentine’s Day presents. His idea of a romantic evening for two is finally trusting someone enough to tell them his secret identity. If he’s done that already, or they already figured it out, then his playbook is over. That’s clearly the only romantic fantasy he’s ever allowed himself.

(I was going to say he does this once every movie, but he actually never does this in Batman & Robin specifically because he doesn’t actually care about Julie Madison. She proposes to him and he gets her name wrong while shooting her down. Add that to the “Bruce Wayne isn’t romantic” box.)

The ridiculous amount of magazine cut-outs populating Edward’s apartment indicates that he probably has a very vibrant and extensive set of fantasies involving Bruce, which is hinted at a couple times in the novelization.

Edward would certainly know him when he saw him. He’d spent enough time anticipating the moment, after all [...] Finally he was going to be meeting Bruce Wayne face-to-face, and he had every moment of the encounter scripted [...] He’d rehearsed it to perfection in his mind for weeks upon months.

In the grand scheme of things... in the fabulous, sweeping, intertwining destinies of Bruce Wayne and Edward Nygma, such a slip would not even rate a footnote.

He becomes suddenly and painfully aware that if Bruce Wayne walked away without Edward Nygma by his side, then that would be it. It would be finished. All these weeks, months... indeed, a lifetime of planning... and it was crumbling under him just like that.

Of course, that doesn’t necessarily mean his fantasies are all romantic in the traditional sense of the word. This is a man who was charmed by Harvey holding a charity circus hostage with some kind of graffitied missile warhead. Tonally, there’s not even that much of a difference between his crush collages and his riddle death threats.

What’s weirder, using a magazine cutout of someone you hate to make a pop-up card of their face, or using a magazine cutout of someone you love to replace the anatomically correct heart in the cardiovascular system diagram you keep in your apartment/arcade/makeshift laboratory? Probably the former, since it was made with the express purpose of Bruce actually seeing it. Although presumably Edward was planning on taking Bruce to his apartment at some point? And in the novelization, he actually drags Bruce into his cubicle to look at his Wayne Shrine.

He grabbed Bruce’s arms and shouted “No, don’t leave me! I need you!” [...] Bruce was thunderstruck as he was pulled partway into Edward’s office... and then he caught sight of the shrine.

Edwards’s head bobbed eagerly. Now, finally, Bruce would understand the depth of Nygma’s devotion to his idol. He would see how important he was to Nygma.

Notably, the only thing that upsets Bruce about the fact that one of his employees has a serial killer wall dedicated to him at their work station (@heroes-etc: realistically.... IS this the first time this has happened? i doubt it.) is the fact that the shrine includes a picture of him taken directly after his parents’ death, which is obviously a huge trigger for Bruce’s PTSD.

Wayne’s gaze zeroed in on the picture of himself as a young man.

The eyes of Wayne the elder locked with Wayne the younger, and when he slowly turned his scrutiny back to Edward Nygma, Edward could feel the temperature in the cubicle drop to subzero.

Later, once Bruce isn’t being actively reminded of the most traumatizing day of his life, he reflects that he could probably relate to Edward’s specific brand of crazy, and hopes that it’s not too late to try again (it is).

He paused momentarily at Edward Nygma’s cubicle, thinking about the intensity he’d seen in the man’s eyes the other day. Nygma’s ideas might have been a bit odd, but that sort of passion—if properly channeled—could accomplish miracles. That was something Bruce Wayne certainly knew better than anyone else. Perhaps after this fiasco was the time to take Nygma aside under less-pressured circumstances. Start again...

With any other character, I would call bull on their being this unphased by someone being obsessed enough with them to build a stalker shrine, but, like. It’s Batman. He probably has a stalker shrine to Michelle Pfeiffer Catwoman in his cave somewhere. When they start dating, Edward mails the weirdest magazine cutout valentines to his office on the regular, and every time Bruce has to assure his staff that it’s not a ransom letter and it’s just “his boyfriend being romantic.”

9. What is the most embarrassing thing they have done in front of each other?

I mean, by most people’s standards, any one of the things that Edward does in front of Bruce could easily be the most embarrassing thing to happen to them in their lifetime. But for the most part, Edward seems blissfully free of that kind of self-consciousness. He accidentally introduces himself to Bruce as “[extended moaning sound] Bruce Wayne” and shakes it off without even registering his mistake. Even when he feels like Bruce has rejected him and his project, his emotional state is more shocked, saddened, and angry than it is ashamed. He does apologize to Bruce, during the scene where they first meet, for holding on to his hand too long during their handshake. And by “handshake” I mean that Bruce extends his hand to be shaken, and Edward just grabs on and holds it without any motion whatsoever for the entire first half of their conversation. Which might be the only time he ever apologizes in the entire movie. So I’ll say that was his moment of embarrassment.

Bruce only really embarrasses himself in front of Alfred, but Edward does manage to trick Bruce into getting scanned by his mind reading device at the Nygmatech party. Being tricked in general would be pretty awkward for Bruce, since this movie goes out of its way to show the audience how SMART and CLEVER and KNOWLEDGEABLE ABOUT BRAINWAVES Bruce is at every opportunity. But being tricked into getting your mind read is about a million times more embarrassing than just running into a wall like some kind of Looney Tune. Obviously having access to Bruce’s mind allows Edward to figure out that his former boss/current obsessee is Batman, but also it’s just got to be super weird in there. Bruce is a bizarre man.

12. What first changes when it starts getting serious?

Whether he’s idolizing Bruce or plotting his destruction, Edward is still seeing the subject of his lifelong obsession as a larger than life exaggeration of the real man. Some of that pedestal would probably survive into the beginning of a romantic relationship, but by the time they got serious Edward would have had to recognize that Bruce has both positive and negative traits. He would also have had to grapple with the fact that the man he once assumed would make everything in his life better is a lot of work to be around, especially in this movie’s continuity where the trauma of his family’s death and his guilt over allowing enemies like Joker to die are genuinely affecting Bruce’s day-to-day functionality.

(A lot of things, Chase.)

Edward’s introduction scene demonstrates that he doesn’t see Bruce as having these kinds of problems. His Escapism Wish Fulfillment Device TM is clearly a very personal project for him, since he, you know. Is kind of already living in a Bruce-centric fantasy world.

When he’s pitching it to Bruce, however, he states that he doesn’t think someone like Bruce would ever need to escape reality (which could just be ingratiating flattery, but he barely seems aware of what he’s saying at the time because he’s too busy staring with his mouth open at Bruce putting on glasses).

(Side note: an interjection from @heroes-etc

Anyway, moving on.)

Obviously we know he’s wrong, since Bruce escapes his reality every night by dressing up like a bat and scaring people. Normally that’s just subtext (or me being cynical and creating subtext), but Batman Forever introduced a hot psychiatrist who is constantly poking at Batman for being a power fantasy created by a traumatized mind to cope with intense feelings of helplessness in childhood.

The novelization makes it clear that it’s not the illusion of perfection that Edward is attracted to, however. The picture of Bruce in Crime Alley is what kickstarts Edward’s obsession, not because Bruce seemed flawless but because he seemed to be going through similar pain as Edward (whatever Edward’s pain even IS in this continuity). So I think recognizing Bruce’s issues would be less of a dealbreaker and more of a point of connection, were they to get serious.

He saw, there in Bruce Wayne’s face, an intensity that mirrored his own. An anger, a frustration at the hand that fate had dealt him. There were no tears on Bruce’s face. Instead there was a smoldering intelligence that Edward intuitively sensed was on par with his own.

There was something in Bruce’s eyes, something in that gaze. There was Bruce, in a moment of raw emotion, his parents just having been cruelly taken from him. And there was no self-pity. Just cold, hard anger.

[...] Ed still had the newspaper with him when he was walking home from school. Not that he needed it to read; the contents were safely locked away in his skull, thanks to his photographic memory. But he wanted to clip out the articles and pictures about Bruce Wayne. He found the young man fascinating, as if he had discovered a soulmate of sorts.

For Bruce, on the other hand, getting serious presumably just means attempting to include Edward more and more in the found family he builds in the latter half of the 90’s Batman movies. Alfred approving a love interest is not quite as tantamount in this continuity as it is sometimes (Micheal Gough Alfred is pretty laid back), but Bruce is still spending all of his non-Batman, non-socialite time with his butler. So if Edward wants to hang out with Bruce, he has to either get on Alfred’s good side or prepare for a lot of “romantic quality time” where his boyfriend’s dad is glaring at him from the background.

Dick is less important to get on the good side of, since he and Bruce argue all the time in these movies (apparently one of the proposed scripts for Batman & Robin was Bruce kicking Dick out of the house and making him go to college, where Dick would cope with his dad-related anger by bullying his psychology professor Dr. Crane into becoming a supervillain. I personally feel like I deserved to see that Scarecrow origin). So if Dick doesn’t like Bruce’s new boyfriend, it’s just one more thing for them to be catty to each other about.

Alfred’s niece Barbara Wilson on the other hand (who is adorable as a fusion of Barbara Gordon and Julia Pennyworth, do not @ me) would be absolutely vital for Edward to win over, because her opinion could easily either make or break his standing with her uncle. Also Bruce decided to adopt her within five minutes of meeting her, so he’s obviously fond.

19. Where do they go on their first date?

Edward’s fantasy sequence in the novelization makes it obvious enough that he would really, really like to have dinner at Wayne Manor. Hanging out at someone’s house isn’t really a traditional first date, especially if one of you is a billionaire who could have taken you literally anywhere, but clearly none of that matters to Bruce, because that’s exactly the first date he invites Vicki Vale on in Batman (1989).

It’s pretty painfully awkward (“You want to know the truth? I don’t think I’ve ever been in this room before”) until Bruce gives up on the formality and takes her down to eat the rest of their courses with Alfred in the kitchen.

I feel like his first date with Edward could probably go the same way, with a few major differences. One, Edward would have been super enthused about eating in the fancy dining hall, and Bruce would have only suggested finishing their meal in the kitchen because Edward clearly wanted to see As Much Of The Manor As Possible. Two, when Alfred offers to stop embarrassing Bruce and leave them alone for the end of their date, Edward would have insisted he stay and break out the baby albums. You cannot convince me that Alfred is not a scrapbooker. Actually, does what Edward’s doing count as scrapbooking? Maybe they could compare notes.

#riddlebat #batman forever #edward nygma #riddler #bruce wayne #batman #ship meme #i do not actually recommend reading the novelization because it did chase so dirty i still seethe about it sometimes #but it did make edward pretty fucking gay #now the batman & robin novelization i recommend wholeheartedly #because for some reason bruce has a huge crush on mr. freeze #like literally bruce stalked him for a while in his 20's #and his internal narration is constantly monologueing about how handsome victor is #truly george clooney batman is canon gay

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gabriel-agreste-has-no-rights · 4 years

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Rating: T

Summary: From cleaning up their city, to strengthening their partnership, to untangling their love lives—New York has taught Ladybug and Chat Noir that they can get through anything together. Well, everything except automatic doors. (New York special reveal fic)

Word Count: 6722

XXX

Marinette had gotten back from New York three days ago, but it wasn’t until she saw Chat Noir that she really came home.

He’d arrived early to the meeting spot—a rooftop where someone had planted a pot of blue forget-me-nots—and he hummed under his breath while perching at the roof’s edge.

“Little kitty on a roof... all alone without his lady…”

She thought she’d overcome the stutter in her heart when she heard that tune. But that was before she’d almost lost her partner again.

“Not alone anymore,” she said, plopping down next to him and bumping his shoulder.

He didn’t bump back. That was weird.

“Kitty?” She leaned forward, trying to get a better look at his face. The mask made it difficult to tell, but she was pretty sure his green eyes were rimmed with red. “Are you alright?”

He shrugged too quickly. “It’s nothing. I’m really glad to see you again, LB.”

“Which is why you haven’t looked at me this whole time.”

Finally, he met her eyes, and she gasped. He’d definitely been crying. A lot. What had… what had happened? Was it just seeing the city for the first time since they’d been back? Mayor Bourgeois had done a surprisingly good job of organizing the cleanup, but there was still a long way to go. That was the reason they’d come out on patrol tonight, so surely he’d expected the damage.

Could he still be upset about everything that had happened between them? No. He knew she’d forgiven him.

Still, she squeezed his hand just in case.

“Chat. You know you can always tell me the truth.”

His eyes went wide, and then fresh tears welled in them.

“I—right. I promised I’d never hide the truth from you again.” He wiped his eyes with the heel of his free hand. “I’ve just been stupid. Even more stupid, if that’s possible.”

“You’re not stupid,” she said. Stupidly. She didn’t know what would help, but surely she could come up with something more comforting than that. “You’re the brave, amazing, irreplaceable Chat Noir.”

He snorted. “My girlfriend thinks I’m replaceable.”

The world screeched to a halt. The moon could’ve fallen from the sky, and she wouldn’t have noticed.

“You have a girlfriend?”

Chat Noir winced. Oops. She probably shouldn’t have shouted right by his ear.

“I had a girlfriend. For almost a month.”

“And you didn’t tell me?”

His brow scrunched under his mask. “I didn’t want you to think I was trying to make you jealous. And… I didn’t tell anyone, actually. It kind of had to be secret in case my father…” He shook his head. “Sorry. I don’t want to get too close to my identity. Which is another reason I didn’t tell you.”

Of course. There was no good reason for him to tell her.

She still felt like she should’ve known.

“I’m sorry. You had every right to keep your personal life private.” She rubbed her thumb over the back of his hand. “And I’m sorry about your girlfriend, too. She clearly doesn’t know who she’s missing out on.”

He looked up from where he’d been staring at their hands. “I—uh-um-hhhh-yeah.”

She made a noise somewhere between an eep and a cough, jerking her hand back so quickly she almost fell backwards.

“I—I mean, anyone would be lucky to date you—no! Um, you’re a catch?” Oh, that was even worse! What was wrong with her? “You—you know what I mean!”

His head tilted. “I, um. Do I?”

She dropped her head in her hands. She didn’t even know what she meant. She was still in love with Adrien. The last thing she wanted to do was give Chat false hope.

“Sorry,” she groaned. “Lately I can’t get two words out without making a mess of things.”

“Join the club.” He snorted.

“I might not be much help, but… do you want to talk about it?”

“You—you’d let me?”

“You did say you weren’t going to hide things from me anymore.” She smiled, bumping his shoulder.

This time, he bumped her back. “I guess I did.”

He paused, seeming to gather his thoughts. The sounds of traffic drifted up from below to fill the gap. Funny how even the traffic felt more like home in Paris.

“It was my fault, as usual,” he murmured. “I didn’t tell her I was leaving Paris, either.”

“You didn’t?” It made sense that he wouldn’t want to hurt his partner, but why would he hide from someone in his civilian life?

“Like I said. Stupid.” He shook his head.

“Not stupid enough to break up with you over.” She frowned. “Not if she really loved you.”

That probably wasn’t the most tactful thing to say, either. She hoped Chat’s girlfriend loved him. He’d always been so full of love, it was difficult to imagine him with someone who wouldn’t return it.

“It… wasn’t just that.” He took a deep breath. “Promise you won’t hate me?”

That question didn’t reassure her, but she still knew her answer.

“You’re my best friend, kitty. I could never hate you.”

The tension drained from his shoulders.

“Right. I should know that by now. It’s just hard to remember, when I’m so scared and stupid and—I think I might have accidentally cheated on her.”

Marinette blinked. Chat? Cheating? The boy who would rather turn Marinette down in front of her Marichat-shipping papa than hide his feelings for Ladybug?

“What did you do?”

His ears drooped. He looked so limp without the over-the-top confidence that normally filled him.

“I danced with another girl. And hugged her a lot. I thought it was as friends but then my other friend posted some pictures of us to Instagram, because she didn’t know that I was dating K—my girlfriend, and it looked way worse than it was and my girlfriend thinks I’m in love with this other girl and I… the worst and best thing is she might be right.”

Wow. That was. There was a lot to unpack there.

“You’re… in love with… two people?” Neither of which are me?

No. Bad Marinette. This wasn’t about her; this was about Chat Noir. Besides, she wanted him to move on!

“I don’t know. All I know is that I never wanted to hurt either of them, and I feel awful.”

...Was this about her? The sentiment definitely hit too close to home.

“It stinks, doesn’t it.” She sighed.

“More than Plagg’s cheese.”

That got a smile out of her. “I wish I knew how to help, but the truth is, I’ve never had any luck with love either.”

Chat’s brow furrowed. “But what about the boy you…?”

Her throat clogged. Memories flashed through her mind—her and Adrien dancing in the sky, tumbling through doorways, accidental touches and soft smiles and words she’d said too late.

“This isn’t about me,” she said, banishing those thoughts.“We’re working on your love life tonight.”

Unraveling hers would probably require an intervention from Bunnyx. Or a Lucky Charm. Why hadn’t she thought of that before?

Because Tikki would kill me, probably.

“I don’t think there’s much to work on,” he muttered. “I blew it with my girlfriend. And what if I do try to ask out the other girl, but I just make the same mistakes again?”

Marinette smiled and placed her hand over his arm. “You always learn from your mistakes, kitty. And you’re always thinking of other people first. If you just learn how to be honest with everyone—including yourself—I don’t think you’ll have a problem.”

Wow. Three whole coherent sentences. That was miraculous.

“Heh. And you said you didn’t have any love advice.”

“Well… I guess I can give it, but I can’t take it.” She grimaced. If only she’d been honest with Adrien…

But it wasn’t over. She knew how much he meant to her, and she knew what she stood to lose. Somehow, she’d find a way to tell him.

He bumped her shoulder. “Come on, bug. Spill the tea.”

She blinked before bursting out laughing. “Spill the tea?”

“What? That’s what you say when you want your friends to tell you some juicy secrets, right?”

“Ew. Please never call my secrets juicy. They’re more like… tangled up yarn, so knotted even I barely know what’s happening anymore.”

He winked. “I’m a cat. Playing with yarn is what I do best.”

She bit her lip. He’d opened up to her. By her own logic—that of no unnecessary secrets—she should return the favor. But could she really do that to him, knowing how long he’d pined after her?

It doesn’t matter. He’s in love with someone else now. Maybe even two someone elses.

The thought was still so bizarre, she could hardly comprehend it. Clearly he’d been serious about the yellow rose. He’d moved on, and she… well, she was still where she’d started. Chasing after Adrien, falling farther and farther behind.

“Maybe another night,” she said. A coward’s retreat.

He gave her a long look before nodding. “Alright.”

She let out a breath of relief. Another night. He was an outside perspective. She would tell him later, if only because he might give clearer advice.

She stood and dusted off her legs, even though there was no dirt there.

“Vacation’s over. We’ve got some cleaning up to do.”

XXX

“Hey. It’s okay.” She squeezed Chat’s hand when he paused in front of their statue. Or, well, what was left of it. Senti-Robostus had snapped the bronze Ladybug off, then tossed her into the front of a nearby convenience store. The statue of Chat Noir looked lonely without her perched on top.

“This isn’t one we can fix, is it.” His voice was sandpaper-rough.

“No. I don’t think so,” she admitted. “But it’s okay. I never really liked that statue anyway.”

It always reminded her of Copycat, who had turned out to be a total creep. The Ladyblog had had to ban Theo’s accounts from the discussion boards too many times for comfort.

“...We should get moving again, then,” Chat said, but neither of them did. They remained standing in place, still linked by their hands.

They’d been shifting rubble for hours, using their enhanced strength and even their powers. Each time Marinette fed Tikki and transformed, she felt more exhausted than the last. But Chat had to feel even worse. His Cataclysm was the most useful for clearing chunks of broken walls, while her Lucky Charm was less reliable when not facing a concrete enemy. The one score had been a bag of cement mix to fill in a busted sidewalk.

“We can’t fix everything in one night,” she said. “We can patrol again tomorrow. Or maybe the night after.” She had a feeling she’d be too sore to move in the morning, enhanced strength or not.

“Easy for you to say,” he muttered. “It’s not your fault that everything’s broken.”

She stared at him, stunned. “Chat. This is just as much my fault as it is yours.”

“But—”

“No buts.” She pressed a finger to his lips. “Paris is our city. Not yours. Not mine. Ours.”

He didn’t argue, but his gaze still remained fixed on the ground.

“I could have stayed. I could have downloaded an akuma alert app. There are so many things I could’ve done differently, it could eat me alive,” she admitted, her voice trembling. “I don’t want that to happen to you.”

“It’s so hard,” he whispered.

She dropped her hand from his lips. “I know. But we’ll get through it together.”

He was silent for a moment before nodding. “You’re right. You and me against the world… or in this case, you and me against a bunch of crushed buildings.”

She smiled. It might not be a glamorous part of the job, but they would do their part to make it up to their city.

She raised her fist, and he bumped her knuckles gently.

“I’ll let you know when I’m free for next patrol,” he said, a little more life returning to his voice. “Probably the day after tomorrow. My family’s been on edge lately, with… well, you know.”

He nodded towards the broken statue.

“Right. I’ll keep an eye on Plagg, then.”

Chat chuckled. “Plagg” was what she’d named the little cat toy that he had the remote for.

This time, she looked forward to hearing the toy’s tiny mew.

XXX

It turned out to be three days before they could meet for patrol again.

“Soooo.” Chat walked backwards in front of her, grinning in a way that was somehow both obnoxious and adorable. “It’s another night.”

Oh. She should’ve known he wouldn’t let that go so easily, especially now that he seemed to be in a better mood. Had he asked out the other girl he liked? Or did he patch things up with his girlfriend? Or maybe he did neither, and he just knew how to move on.

“Technically, it’s not night yet.” She pointed to the sun that sat low over the skyline. “Also, there’s a—”

He tripped over a crack in the sidewalk, then toppled backwards against a No Parking sign. The metal clanged like a gong where his head hit it.

“—pole behind you.” She giggled.

He pouted, rubbing the back of his head. “No Parking? Why would anyone even try to park here?”

They’d arrived at the worst scene of damage: in front of the Eiffel Tower. There wasn’t even a road left to park on. Most of the chasm had been filled in by now, but there were construction crews repairing the pipes and electrical wiring that had been uprooted.

Of course, the workers had gone home for the evening already. Marinette and Chat would have to be careful not to get in the way of their unfinished work. Luckily, there was still plenty of rubble to move, and they’d come prepared with their powerups tonight.

“I’ve got two sets of ears, my lady. That makes me twice as amazing of a listener.” He swiveled the leather ears on top of his hair. When had he learned how to control that?

“Why don’t you save the interrogation for after patrol?”

“It’s not an interrogation! You accepted my yellow rose, which means we are friends for time and all eternity. And friends can ask each other about important things in their lives. Like their crushes.”

“I regret ever bringing that up.” She pulled the purple macaron from her yo-yo and tossed it into her mouth. At least she couldn’t say anything incriminating while she was chewing.

The power shocked over her, leaving her magenta space suit in its wake. A grin tugged at her lips. She’d never get tired of that.

“It can’t be that bad.” Chat unzipped a pocket and dug out a purple slice of camembert. He made a face before chewing it. “Not as bad as this nasty cheese, anyway.”

He transformed too, plasma-like wings sprouting from his back.

“You know, I can make you the powerup macarons, too. That way you only have to use the cheese if you’re giving it to Plagg.”

“Wait, really?” His eyes widened. “Why didn’t you say that weeks ago?”

“Because it’s too fun to watch you make that face.” She smirked and flicked his glowing bell. “But I’m willing to pass up on that in exchange for you leaving my love life alone.”

He sighed. “If that’s really what you want.”

He looked surprisingly dejected. Was it just because she was keeping secrets?

“I’m surprised you want to know about… Him,” she said quietly. “I don’t want to make you feel worse.”

“You don’t have to worry about me, my lady. I haven’t figured out exactly what I feel for my friend yet, but your advice has helped me start. I just want to help you in return.”

He smiled behind his helmet. He meant it. Somehow, despite all the times she’d turned him down, he just wanted her to feel better.

“Alright,” she relented.

“I swear, I—wait, what?”

“I said alright.” She chuckled. “Though I’m a little curious how you planned to convince me.”

He blushed. “I was going to swear on my honor as your friend that I would take your not-juicy secrets to my grave.”

“Thanks for the thought. Now come help me with this chunk of cement, and I’ll ‘spill the tea.’”

XXX

It was surprisingly hard not to spill too much tea. As they flew pieces of rubble out to space, she told him everything she could without jeopardizing her identity. A few unspecific details, vague confession plans, even that there was another boy in love with her. Though that seemed less relevant now that she realized she couldn’t quench her feelings for Adrien.

“Wow. Can you imagine being dense enough not to realize Ladybug is in love with you?” He sighed wistfully. Maybe he hadn’t completely given up on her then.

“He’s not dense.” She grunted as she shoved the chunk of road with her shoulder, finally sending it floating off out of the atmosphere. “He’s sheltered. And I don’t always send the clearest signals.”

“I guess helping set him up with a different girl would be a mixed message.” He winced. Without giving names, she’d explained the whole double-date fiasco. He’d been polite enough to stifle his laughter.

“I told you my love life was tangled. I don’t know that there’s anything you can do to help, but thanks for listening anyway.”

She adjusted her wings, slowing the flare from her jet pack.

“Wait.” He grabbed her hand before she could begin her descent towards earth.

She stopped, barely daring to breathe. Had he changed his mind? Did he still want to be a thread in her knotted love life after all?

“You told me to be honest with myself,” he continued, his voice soft but sure. “It sounds like you’ve already done that—so be honest with him, too.”

Oh. She grimaced. Of course he’d use her own advice against her.

“It’s not that easy.”

“I know. But if you never tell him how you feel, you’re not giving him the chance to swoon at how amazing you are.”

He mimed falling backwards, literally head over heels. He turned a full 360 degrees in midair before grinning back at her.

“You’re such a dork.” She shook her head fondly. “You’re right, though. That’s what everyone else has told me too. I can’t keep backing down, not if I want anything to change between us.”

Despite imagining a thousand scenarios where they were married with three kids, Marinette found herself unable to picture herself actually asking Adrien out. It felt as far away as an alternate universe.

“I can help you out, if you want,” he said cheerily. “Just put your communicator in your ear, and I’ll feed you all the best pickup lines in real time.”

She laughed. “Thanks, but I think my awkward stuttering will still be better than that.”

“You’re right. You should give yourself some credit. You did call me a catch, after all.” He winked.

“Chat!” She punched his arm. “I was just trying to cheer you up!”

“Uh-huh. Suuure.”

He was just messing with her. He wouldn’t be trying to help her with Adrien if he still had a crush on her, would he? Even after all this time, it was still difficult to tell when he was actually flirting, and when he was just engaging in friendly banter.

...When she thought of it that way, it was less surprising that his ex-girlfriend had misjudged his actions too.

“What about you?” She asked as they floated back towards earth. “Do you have any updates on your love situation?”

“Sort of.” He sighed. “My girlfriend is clear about her feelings. She’s given me too many second chances already, and my uncertainty has hurt her. I can’t expect her to keep waiting while I try to figure out what I want.”

“That’s fair.” Marinette nodded. “I’m glad she can be so honest with you, even if it hurts. She must trust you a lot.”

If only she could have that kind of trust in Adrien. She… she could, couldn’t she? Their friendship wouldn’t be destroyed after one tiny declaration of love. Not after everything he’d said about her in New York.

Right?

“She’s never been afraid to speak her mind. It’s one thing I really admire about her.” Chat smiled wistfully. “I hope that she finds someone who’s better to her than I was.”

“Chat…”

“No, my lady. She deserves someone who’s as decisive as she is. Someone who can love her the way she loved me.”

That sounded almost familiar. Hadn’t Marinette had that same thought about Chat Noir?

“Yeah,” she murmured. “Yeah, I guess she does.”

XXX

“What’s on the agenda today?” Chat asked brightly when he arrived at their rooftop. “Restoring the Arc de Triumph? Planting more grass in the park?”

“No.” Marinette fidgeted with her hands. She’d rehearsed how to ask this a thousand times in the past few days, but she still felt stupid. “I actually, er… I wanted to take you up on that offer.”

His ears perked up. “You’re going to let me cut your hair?”

“No, not that offer.” She smacked her forehead. She’d forgotten he’d mentioned that when she’d complained about how her pigtails stuck out of her space helmet. “The one you said? About the communicators, and helping me, with um, Him…?”

Chat’s jaw dropped. It would have made a great photo, if she’d gotten out her bugphone in time.

“You’re actually going to use my pickup lines?”

“No! Those are still awful.” Except the one about her being the lady of his dreams, but he didn’t need to know how soft that had made her. “In fact, I don’t actually want us to use our communicators at all.”

He blinked. “So, you want to take me up on my offer, but you don’t want me to do a single thing I offered. Makes perfect sense.”

“Ugh. Sorry, I’m so bad at this.” She should just pretend she was explaining a plan to Alya. Or maybe that she was coming up with a solution to her Lucky Charm. That was never so awkward, right?

“I want you to use this,” she clarified, pulling the toy cat out of her yo-yo. “I always chicken out before I tell him how I feel. I was thinking, if I felt like you were there… I might be a little braver.”

He still looked stunned, but a smile slowly crept across his face.

“So I can be your wingman?”

“...Sort of, I guess? All you need to do is push the button when I inevitably start to panic.”

His head tilted. “But how will I know when you’re trying to talk to him? You need a Plagg, too.”

“You’re one step ahead, kitty. I was thinking we could go pick one up before patrol. Since you’ll be keeping it, you should get to choose what kind of buzzer you want.”

He beamed at that. “Brilliant as usual, my lady.”

Whew. She’d worried he would think it was stupid.

“Come on.” She unhooked her yo-yo from her waist. “The store I bought Plagg at was set to reopen today. If we’re quick, we can get there before they close for the night.”

He kept pace with her as they swung and leapt towards the west side of the city. The novelty shop had been in the path of destruction, but by now most of the buildings were functional again.

The repairs had restored Chat Noir’s good humor, too. Either that or he’d sorted out his own romances. Curious as she was, she found herself too nervous to ask.

I’m asking out Adrien. It doesn’t matter if Chat Noir gets a girlfriend. Him having a girlfriend hadn’t changed things between them before, after all. He’d always be her partner. Always.

She dropped down in front of the store—

—and felt her soul leave her body.

“Nooooo,” she groaned, gaping at the brand new, shiny, automatic doors.

Chat Noir landed beside her and strapped his staff to his back.

“What’s wrong, my lady? Are they all out of—” He blinked at the doors, too. “Oh.”

Oh? Was her fear of automatic doors that obvious? Okay, fear was a strong word, but there was no way she could get into the store with her dignity intact. She’d embarrassed herself in front of Chat plenty of times, but it was still light out, and too many civilians were on the street.

“I, just, uh—feel a draft coming out of this store! Maybe another place sells the same kind of toys?” She grinned uncomfortably.

It wasn’t likely. They were marketed towards people in long-distance relationships. She’d been lucky to notice the beeper toys when she was looking for design inspirations in this out-of-the-way shop.

“Maybe. Do you know where? Most stores will be closing pretty soon.”

She sighed. That had been such a flimsy excuse, she was surprised he’d even bought it.

“No, it’s fine. You just—might want to go in without me.” She tapped her fingers together. “They, um, have some toy spiders in there that are reeeeeally scary.”

“Oh, no!” He replied too dramatically. “I’m, uh, afraid of spiders too!”

“...Are you making fun of me?”

He grinned nervously. “Why would you think that?”

“Because I know you’re not afraid of spiders. You picked one up and moved it the other day because you didn’t want to kill it.” It had been really cute, even if she’d originally screamed for him to squish it.

“Crud, I forgot about that,” he said under his breath.

They were drawing stares by now, standing in the glow of the shop’s windows without stepping inside. One little kid waved at them, and Chat waved back.

“It doesn’t matter.” She shook her head. “We’re going in this shop, and we’re getting you a beeper toy, and we’re not going to be stopped by some stupid automatic doors.”

“Automatic—wait, you can’t get through automatic doors either?”

She didn’t answer. She was busy slamming into the glass.

“Ow,” she muttered with her nose squished against the door. Which still. Didn’t. Open.

Behind her, Chat Noir started to laugh.

“Shut up,” she said, but it probably didn’t have much effect when muffled by the glass.

“Sorry, sorry!” He rushed to help her as she peeled herself off. “It’s just, this happens all the time to me and my good friend. I thought I was going to be the one smushed like a bug on a windshield.”

“There’s only one bug here,” she said, brushing off the front of her suit. “And she’s going to get through those stupid doors if it’s the last thing she does.”

“My lady—”

Frustrated, she banged her fists against the glass—

—and shattered it into a million pieces.

Sirens blared. She yelped, jumping back towards Chat.

This was it. Her life was over. She was going to go to jail and lose her miraculous all because she’d used super-strength on a stupid door!

“Uh-oh.” Chat gulped.

“M-miraculous ladybug!” She yelled on reflex, though she didn’t have a Lucky Charm. Could a Lucky Charm even fix this? A villain hadn’t done the damage at all, unless she counted as a villain, because she’d just committed vandalism, and oh no the owner was coming towards them and—

“Ladybug! Chat Noir!” The man with the white mustache looked more concerned than angry. That was… that was good, right? “Did an akuma come through here? Do I need to evacuate? There’s no one else in the store right now. I don’t think anyone realized I’ve reopened.”

She blinked. Would it be alright to lie, just this once? To avoid being arrested, losing her miraculous, and letting Paris fall to Hawkmoth?

“No, no, there’s nothing to worry about,” Chat answered for her, holding up his hands.

Meanwhile, the shopkeeper pressed a button on the wall, turning off the alarm. If only her pounding heart could be quieted so easily.

“It was an accident,” Chat continued. “It’s my fault.”

...Wait, what?

“I was trying to hold open the door for my lady, as all good gentlecats do. But my powers of destruction and automatic doors don’t get along.” He smiled ruefully, then produced a wad of euros from his pocket. The shopkeeper looked as shocked as Marinette was. “I hope this will be enough to cover the damage. And I’m very sorry. You have a lovely shop.”

The shopkeeper’s glasses slid down his nose. He pushed them back up, still not moving to accept the money. “Chat Noir... this is far too much.”

“Consider it a tip.” He winked.

A tip of… she couldn’t count every bill in his palm, but she swore that was at least three hundred euros. Where did he get that kind of money? Did he have some kind of superhero donation drive she didn’t know about?

“Please, at least buy something,” the owner insisted. “If there’s no akuma, then I assume you were coming to make a purchase? Or was it a return? Was the item you purchased not to your liking, Ladybug?”

“N-no, it was perfect!” She said quickly. Her heart still hadn’t stopped pounding. He remembered her. What was his name again? She should be better at remembering citizens’ names. “I—we—um, wanted another one, actually.”

“A matched set.” Chat grinned. “Would that be alright?”

“Of course.” He looked relieved. “Right this way.”

Chat stepped through the broken door frame—which opened just in time to trip him. Marinette tried to catch him by his tail, but his weight dragged her down too. They both ended up sprawled among the broken glass.

“Oww…” He groaned against the tile floor.

She picked a shard out of her cheek. “Why does this keep happening to me?”

The shopkeeper blinked down at them. “On second thought, I’ll bring my options out to you.”

That was probably for the best. While he left, she and Chat untangled their limbs and helped each other up.

“Sorry.” He grimaced. “I didn’t mean for my bad luck to rub off on you.”

“Bad luck?” She tried to brush some glass out of her suit, but it just ended up sticking in her hand. “If anyone’s unlucky, it’s me. This kind of thing happens to me all the time.”

“My lady, you haven’t been this clumsy since the day we met. And I know for a fact that automatic doors hate me.”

“They hate me more. I couldn’t get through them once in New York.”

“Me either.”

She blinked up at him. Glass shards were still scattered in his hair, reflecting the shop’s bright lights. Yes, she could picture him being this unlucky—but could they really both be unlucky in the same exact way?

“I fell in a tangled mess with my crush, and then the doors kept smacking into us. I’m pretty sure my ribs are still bruised from it.” There was no way his luck was worse than that.

Pink flushed across his cheeks. “Uh… me too?”

She snorted. “It’s not a competition, Chat. You don’t have to make up stuff to prove you have worse luck than me.”

“I’m not making anything up.” He took a step forward and brushed a piece of glass from her bangs. “Did you say that happened to you and… and your crush?”

His voice came out as a squeak. But—if he was being serious—

How many French kids had been in New York last week? And more importantly, how many had been repeatedly squished between automatic doors?

No. There’s no way. She was the girl who couldn’t even get through automatic doors—she was not this lucky.

“No, you couldn’t be her.” His face fell. “She wouldn’t even sit next to me on the plane. There’s no way she has a crush on me.”

Her mouth hung open.

“Adrien?” Her shout was tinged with panic. She was lucky that the street had cleared out, probably because the citizens thought their heroes were investigating an akuma.

His wide eyes snapped back to hers.

“M-Marinette?”

“Oh my gosh. You’re—you’re really Adrien. Adrien Agreste.” The love of her life. Who couldn’t even believe she liked him!

She wanted to shatter like the automatic door. Maybe then she could avoid the horrible, soul-crushing embarrassment of admitting her feelings after committing accidental vandalism.

“And that’s… okay?” His voice was barely a whisper.

“Okay?” Her grin must have looked manic, which probably didn’t reassure him. She tried to force a normal expression.

...What was normal again?

He swallowed and rubbed the back of his neck—only to grimace and pull out another glass shard.

“Sorry. I—you didn’t want to know, and—” His expression turned to horror. “Do I have to give up my miraculous now?”

“What? No!” She clasped her hands over his before he could even think of removing his ring. “Adrien—you’re the only Chat Noir for me. I’m thrilled it’s you.”

“Really?” His ears perked up. “But I thought… I’m confused. You said you were stuck in the automatic doors with your crush… but that was…?”

She smiled as tears pricked her eyes.

“You.”

After all this time, it was him. Adrien was her partner.

And she could trust her partner.

She rested her hand on his cheek, careful not to press any pieces of glass deeper into his skin. “It’s always been you.”

The corners of his eyes crinkled, filling with water that spilled over onto his mask.

“Even when I thought I was moving on from you, I guess I was falling right back.” He chuckled and wiped his eyes. Then he rested his hand over hers. His ring was a spot of cold against her fingers.

“This would only happen to us.” She laughed too. “And here I wanted your help to confess to, well, you.”

“That would’ve been awkward.” He grinned. “If we didn’t realize each others’ identities now, we would’ve then.”

She snorted. “I wouldn’t give us that much credit. We’ve both been stupider than that before.”

“Fair enough. All this time, Ladybug was in love with me!”

“You do realize that means you called yourself dense, right?”

He smacked his forehead, then winced. “Ow. I’d like to contest that, but I think I just proved it.”

She held back a laugh. “As long as you don’t tease me for taking two years to confess to you, I’ll call it even.”

“Two years?” He blinked. “You’ve had a crush on me for that long?”

She shrugged sheepishly. “I did say it’s always been you.”

His expression melted into something so soft, she could hardly stand it. So it was a relief when he pulled her into an even softer—if glass-filled—hug.

“It was you, too. Marinette you,” he murmured by her ear. “It took me too long to realize it, but I always knew there was something special about you.”

Her heart soared at that, even higher than when they’d been dancing in the sky. It all made sense now. Alya had posted those photos on Instagram. Neither of them had known Adrien had a girlfriend—Kagami, probably. Hopefully she wouldn’t end her friendship with Marinette over this. They were supposed to have their weekly orange juice tomorrow; Marinette would make sure to be honest with her, too.

But right now, that could wait. All she wanted to do was feel the warmth of Adrien’s arms—Chat Noir’s arms.

“It was Chat Noir you, too,” she admitted. “I didn’t want to let you go. I think I took your love for granted, even when I was in love with ‘Adrien.’”

She felt his arms tighten when she said love.

“Considering you were torn between me and me, I think I can forgive that.” He chuckled. “Actually, I could do more than forgive you. I could kiss you right now.”

Tingles shot through her. Was she ready for that? She’d hardly been able to imagine this moment—and she’d definitely never imagined it like this. Covered in glass, Chat’s claws gently cupping her shoulderblade.

Somehow, it still blew all of her fantasies out of the water.

“I could let you,” she softly replied.

He pulled back just enough to rest his forehead against hers. “Really? I mean… I can still hardly believe this is happening. I can still hardly believe you’re Marinette.”

She frowned. “Why? Because I’m so clumsy?”

“No, because you’re so—” he waved a hand, searching for the word. “Perfect isn’t the right word. You’re endearing, and smart, and brave enough to stand up to my father. You can crush me at video games, and you can forgive me even when I don’t deserve it.”

“Adrien—”

“I left you.”

In that moment, something shifted in her mind. She knew he was Adrien, but finally, she could hear it in his voice.

“I left you twice. As Adrien and as Chat Noir. How can you still want me?”

She took his face in both hands. Never again, not for one second, would she let this boy feel like he wasn’t wanted.

“How could I not want you, Adrien?”

He broke, the tears flowing freely. They glimmered off the bits of glass still stuck to his face. She wished she could clear both of those away, that she could stop him from hurting.

“See? This is why I can hardly believe it. I’m not supposed to be this lucky.”

“Me either. But I’m tired of worrying about what we’re supposed to be.” She smiled. “I love you, kitty. And if you plan on collecting that kiss—”

He did. Somehow he was both clumsy and careful, probably because he was dodging the bits of glass still stuck to her face. Not that she minded. It was him, and it was her—Adrien and Marinette, Ladybug and Chat Noir.

Though it should’ve been the last thing on her mind, she couldn't help thinking that both of Alya’s ships had sailed tonight.

She was just about to deepen this kiss when Adrien pulled back.

“What?” she asked. Had she been that bad of a kisser?

But no, he was looking at the shopkeeper. Who had his arms full of animal toys, and a face red enough to blend in with her suit.

“Oh—ah—sorry to interrupt.” He cleared his throat. “Did you still want…?”

Her face flushed too. She didn’t think it was possible to be any more embarrassed after breaking the man’s doors, but she hadn’t thought it was possible to kiss Adrien without spontaneously combusting, either.

“I don’t suppose we need one now, do we?” She glanced at Adrien sheepishly.

“That doesn’t mean I don’t want one.” He inspected the boxes in the man’s arms.

“If afraid we’re out of Ladybug toys. They’re our hottest selling item right now. I even looked in the back to be sure none were hiding there.”

Adrien grinned, and she remembered why she never would’ve guessed his identity. That toothy smile was all Chat.

“That’s okay. I know the next best thing.”

XXX

“I hope you know that I’m never going to press the button,” Marinette said when they returned to their rooftop.

“What? And I thought you loved me.” Adrien put a hand over his chest in dramatic offense.

“You obviously don’t love me if you thought the best toy to represent me was a cow.”

“Cows are so cute though!” He held up the black-and-white cow beeper toy, which he’d already named Stompp. “And she has spots, just like you!”

Cows might not be cute, but Adrien certainly was. And he knew she couldn’t resist his pleading kitty eyes.

She sighed and pressed the button.

“Moo!” Chat mimicked the toy. “See? Moo and mew! They even sound alike. What noise would a ladybug have made, anyway?”

“It would probably just call you a dork.” She smirked.

“Or it might tell me it loves me.” He wiggled his eyebrows.

“Or,” she took his hand, “you could just be happy with your real girlfriend telling you she loves you.”

His smile was soft and warm, enfolding her like a blanket.

“I think I can live with that.”

#ml new york special #ml new york #miraculous ladybug #chat noir #ladybug #fic tag #tali writes #reveal #very happy with how this turned out #thanks to alyce and winter for all the help!!

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lils-writes-stuff · 4 years

Text

Heathridge Manor

spencer reid x reader

Summary: Oregon and mystery has the reader and spencer growing closer in a case.

warnings: normal criminal minds things,

A/N: based on season 7 episode 19; this is one of my fav episodes

“You know, Y/N, you should join me for one of my hand-on-hand combat classes,” Derek spoke walking up to stand between Y/N and Spencer who were walking out of the elevator.

“And why’s that, Derek?” She asked, her head dramatically turning to the side to look at him.

“Well you got shot, you need to add some combat to go along to your scars,” he said laughing.

Y/N rolled her eyes at the man, knowing he meant no harm, and he genuinely wanted her to come to one of his classes.

“Morgan, I am a very good hand-on-hand fighter, remember I was top of the class at the academy,” she said, opening the door to the bullpen.

“She was, and when she was scared by her neighbor the other morning she--”

“Hey! Look Hotch texted we have a case let’s go,” Y/N interrupted Spencer before he could finish the embarrassing story.

“Alright wonder woman, whatever you say.” Derek laughed as he ruffled Y/N’s her walking towards the round table room, her and Spencer following closely behind.

The round table room was filled with the others as they sat down. Penelope being the only one missing from the room.

“Oh my gosh, I am so sorry for the delay,” Penelope said, swiftly walking into the room as she carried her laptop in her hands. “The system was down. We overwork her. And I had to go into the belly of the beast, who I affectionately nicknamed Persephone, and do some machine whispering, oh-” she stopped, grabbing her remote from Derek as he handed it to her- “thank you. Which is good because this one is a doozy.”

“It will never cease to amaze me how much she can get out in one breath,” Y/N said leaning over to Rossi next to her.

“Oh yeah,” he agreed.

“Emma Baker, thirty-eight, math teacher from Medford, Oregon. She went missing seventeen days ago, and her body was found yesterday afternoon at St. Baldwin’s, St. Baldwin’s is a now-defunct psychiatric hospital for the criminally insane. Now that is in Salem, Oregon, which is 270 miles away from Medford and we’ve been called in for the bizarre nature of the case.” Penelope then pulled up a picture of the body that was found.

The victim laid on a bed, hands folded across her stomach, and dressed in a dress from the sixteenth century.

“Wow, look at that dress,” JJ said as she looked at the picture.

“Was she going to a renaissance fair?” Emily asked.

“Not with her feet bound,” Y/N said as she looked at the victim’s feet.

“And the missing persons report says she was in jeans and a t-shirt,” Penelope added.

“Look at how she’s laid out, it’s almost like it’s a ceremony and she’s the sacrifice,” Derek said, flipping through the pictures in his hand.

“There’s obvious staging going on,” Rossi said.

“Could it be a ritualistic killing?” JJ asked.

“And the cause of death is still unclear, the M.E. report shows no sign of sexual assault or mutilation except mangled and missing fingernails,” Hotch explained.

“You know, there were rumors of satanic rites being performed at a Byberry Hospital in Pennsylvania, which is also an abandoned asylum,” Spencer said.

“Judging by all the graffiti, this place isn’t exactly locked down,” Derek observed.

“Uh, yeah, local P.D. said that vandals and vagrants have been breaking in,” Penelope added on to Derek.

“Which means she could have been killed elsewhere and placed here,” Y/N said.

“She had limestone under her fingernails, but limestone wouldn’t have been used when this asylum was built, so she was obviously held somewhere else,” Spencer said, looking over to Y/N.

“Well, the bottom line is, the unsub transported her hundreds of miles from her hometown for a reason,” Emily said.

“We just need to find out what that reason is, wheels up in 30,” Hotch said, dismissing everyone.

---------------

“Emma Baker was a divorced math teacher, no children,” Rossi said as they began going over victimology.

“She has a boyfriend, though, who’s a drummer in a goth band. Her Facebook has pictures of them at the Bram Stoker Vampire festival and Slayerama, which celebrates all things gothic,” Penelope explained.

“Hm, a teacher by day, Elvira by night,” JJ said with a posing smirk on her face.

“Well, clearly this is a woman with two different sides to her personality,” Derek said, taking a sip of coffee from his mug.

“Yeah, the boyfriend’s band pours fake blood all over themselves on stage,” Spencer said, looking at a page in the manila folder.

“Ah, reminds me of high school,” Y/N said as her eyes locked on the file in her lap.

The eyes of everyone on the team turned to her in question at her statement. She looked up, realizing what she had said didn’t make sense to them.

“Don’t ask.”

“Okay, so if these two were Satanists, it wouldn’t be a stretch,” Emily said, going back to the topic of victimology.

“Garcia, has the boyfriend been questioned by local P.D.?” Hotch asked.

“He has, by phone. He’s got an airtight alibi, he and his band have been on tour in Asia for the last month,” Penelope answered.

“If it’s not the boyfriend, the unsub could be someone in their circle,” Y/N said.

“Emily, you asked earlier if she was going to a renaissance fair, there’s something to that,” Rossi said, looking at Emily next to him.

“Based on the dress, there could be more of a connection to history then the occult,” Emily spoke.

“Renaissance fairs typically replicate sixteenth-century England,” Spencer began. “They surged in popularity since they began in the 1960s.”

“And it’s not just a bunch of nerds in customs eating turkey legs, you guys,” Penelope added.

Y/N hummed in agreement, memories of her and her high school friends going to the fairs coming to mind.

“A different time is somehow very important to this unsub,” Hotch said.

-------------

Y/N stood with Spencer and JJ as they waited for the tailor in the shop to come back. They had just gotten a call from Derek telling them that she died from nicotine poisoning through the garments of the dress she was sown into.

“This unsubs’, not the first to do this, poisoned garments actually have an incredibly long history, going all the way back to the shirt of Nessus, which killed Hercules,” Spencer explained, Y/N listening intently.

A door chimed as the tailor entered the room, bringing the attention of the three to him.

“Okay, so, I double-checked, and this fabric-” the tailor pointed to the fabric in the evidence bag- “is not manufactured for commercial sale,” he explained.

“Is it possibly something from the past that was maybe discontinued?” Spencer asked.

“No,” the tailor responded. “I can tell you one thing though, the fabric is a double-layer brocade. It was probably custom-made for someone, and is very pricey.”

“What about the dress, was there anything that stood out?” Y/N asked the man.

“Well, it’s homemade for one,” he responded.

“Okay, how do you know that?” JJ asked.

“Well, the seams are uneven. Whoever the seamstress is, she isn’t very skilled,” the tailor explained.

“What makes you so sure it’s a woman?” Spencer asked.

“Well, there’s some detail to the work in here that would require small hands,” the tailor explained.

Y/N looked up to Spencer, seeing how he also had the same questioning look on his face as her.

“Oh and this is interesting,” the tailor said to bring their attention to the picture of the dress. “See, now, the stitching on this hem, it’s narrow in some places and wider in others.”

“Small hands, easily distracted,” Spencer said, picking up on what the tailor was showing in the picture. “Let me ask you this, how old do you think someone could be and still effectively sew this?”

“Well, a pattern of this complexity, they’d have to be a teenager,” the tailor said, handing Spencer the items as he turned around and saw some fabrics being brought in.

“Okay, thanks,” Y/N said to the man as he walked away. She walked over to Spencer and looked at the pictures of the dress again.

“Based on the size of the victim’s body, I think only an adult male would be able to lift her and move a hospital bed,” JJ said, putting together all the information she had been told.

“So, what’re we looking for a team?” Y/N asked looking between JJ and Spencer.

“Or an unsub with a young accomplice who’s been coerced,” Spencer elaborated.

JJ and Y/N looked at each other both nodding as they silently agreed with what Spencer was saying. The three left the building and headed to the car parked outside the door.

---------------

Y/N walked into the room of the next victim with Emily and Rossi. The body adorning another renaissance style dress was laying in the middle of the room.

“Alice Pritchard was 22, a senior at Portland College, she went missing five days ago, a realtor found her body here this morning,” The detective explained as they walked up to the body.

“I don’t see any physical similarities to our first victim, she’s a lot smaller than Emma, different coloring, different age,” Emily pointed out as she observed the victim.

“So that means these women aren’t surrogates for anyone,” Y/N said.

“But he did lay her out the same way,” Emily added.

“She’s displayed in the center of the room just like the other victim in the asylum,” Rossi said.

“It’s almost like she’s being presented,” Y/N said, tucking her hands into her navy coat pockets as she walked to the end of the body.

Emily crouched down next to the body and inspected the dress. “There is so much attention paid to detail, this is also satisfying some internal desire of the unsub,” she explained.

“So, why leave bodies in an empty storefront and the asylum?” The detective asked.

“Good question,” Rossi said, turning around to look out the window. Y/N followed behind him to see what was out of the window also. “There should be a connection between the two.”

“Or maybe it’s not about the storefront at all, look,” Y/N said, pointing to a theater across the street.

“A theater company performing Shakespeare,” Emily said, reading the sign above the doorway.

The three turned back to look at the body.

“The dress, the white makeup, this victim could literally be wearing a costume,” Emily said as she looked between Rossi and Y/N.

“What if this was the closest to the theater that the unsub could get…” Rossi trailed off.

“Without being caught,” Y/N finished.

----------

Y/N stood next to Spencer as him and Hotch worked on what the numbers from the writing on the wall could be.

“Alice’s sorority sisters say she wanted to be a nurse and she was active in a Christian youth group,” Derek said as he approached the three.

“So the opposite of our last victim,” Y/N said as she let out a huff, sitting down in one of the seats around the table.

“Yeah, and if she was into anything dark, her best friends sure didn’t know anything about it,” JJ continued.

“She was in Portland collecting donations for an orphanage when she disappeared. The unsub could have approached her on the street,” Derek said, looking at Hotch.

Y/N looked over to Spencer, his eyes darting back and forth from the folder in his hands to the numbers written on the clear board.

“Hey, baby girl, you’re on speaker, give me the lowdown,” Derek said answering the phone.

“Chocolate thunder, you can have the whole kit and caboodle just say the word,” Penelope flirted. “Oh, and I cross-referenced the names you found on the wall with missing women in Oregon and I came up with some matches. Christine Torres is a forty-year-old homemaker from Eugene, Oregon. She went missing over a month ago after she dropped her kids off at school.”

“Any other women named Emma missing?” JJ asked.

“Uh-uh, just the one whose body we found, same thing with Alice,” Penelope answered.

“Garcia, what was the exact date Christine was reported missing?” Spencer asked as he backed away from the board.

“February 28th, Emma went missing on March 19th, and Alice on the 22nd,” Penelope answered.

Spencer walked back over to the board and looked at the numbers. Y/N stood up from her chair to stand next to him, wondering what it was he was seeing.

“What is it, Spence?” She asked him.

“Look at this.” Spencer grabbed her hand gently and pulled her behind the clear board. “I think these numbers are dates if you reverse them and chop off the eleven at the beginning and end--”

“That’s two days after each woman went missing,” Hotch interrupted.

“It’s more than that though look,” Spencer said coming back around to the front of the board, pointing to the first number. “March 1st is Sain Eichatadt day, March 21st is the Spring Equinox, and the 24th is the Feast of the Beast.”

“Those are all important holidays in the satanic calendar for sacrifices,” Y/N said coming to the same realization Spencer was. Their minds clicked together and now they both had the same thoughts running through.

“What about the eleven on the end?” Derek asked.

“To many of occultists, the eleven is symbolic of Lucifer,” Spencer explained.

“Okay, I thought we were moving away from satanic killings,” JJ said.

“Apparently we need to reconsider it.” Hotch’s eyes were trained on the file with the victims in them.

“There’s gotta be some sort of connection to the devil here,” Spencer said, which had Y/N nodding her head in agreement.

“Reid, what other upcoming dates are significant to Satanists?” Hotch asked.

“Good Friday, then Easter Eve, and then preparations begin in mid-April for the most important night of all--”

“Walpurgis night on April 30th,” Y/N said, turning to Spencer. He looked at her surprised, having no idea she knew so much about this stuff.

“Good Friday’s in two days, that means he’s hunting for his next victim today.” Derek’s concern in his voice was evident as he spoke.

“We need to give the profile soon,” Hotch said, agreeing with Derek’s concern.

They nodded, going their separate ways to do their work. As normal, Spencer and Y/N stayed by the boards to work, as they both found it was the easiest place to focus.

“Since when did you know all about these things?” Spencer’s back was turned to Y/N as he looked at the boards.

“Hm?” She questioned, not knowing what he meant.

“About these Satanic things, should I be concerned?” He joked with her, which she returned with a small laugh.

“There’s a lot of things you still don’t know about me, Dr. Reid.” Y/N winked at the boy wonder, making a beating red blush form on his face.

His mouth opened to speak, but truly he was too flustered to do so. The simple act of the wink making his knees go weak.

“No, in high school I had to write a paper on the Salem Witch Trials. I dabbled into some of the Satanic stuff to build my thesis more and give some context,” she said, shrugging as she turned back to her work.

Spencer nodded as if silently saying ‘cool’, his own attention now being divided back to the board.

As the two worked, they gave silent glances to each other. Unbeknownst to the other, these were the simple acts that formed their love for each other inside. While they had been dating for a while now, both of them falling in love each moment they spent together, they never voiced the feelings for each other.

Spencer not doing so because of his small fear of rejection. Thoughts that said, what if she doesn’t say it back? or does she not feel the same way?, were ones that vacated his thoughts. But when he looked at her smile, he couldn’t help but feel a fire burn in his heart, her presence being the very thing that started and fueled it. When he held her in his arms, her scent vacating his senses, he could feel all his anxiety leave him. The only thing mattering in those moments was her, and how she felt and smelled. How when she touched him he’d go weak and want nothing more than to just lay with her all day. The thoughts of their future would play like a movie in his head as he held her, and he couldn’t wait for him to act it out.

Now Y/N, she never voiced it because of her constant fear he would be taken away from her. Her fear being that the moment she said it, the next day he would be gone. Her tormentor taking him away and hurting the one she was beginning to love the most. She wasn’t afraid of love per se, but the thought of her having to say it aloud like she had to in front of Caroline to her friends, it only made her want to crawl away and hide. Y/N knew, she knew this feeling that Spencer was it for her, was true. Her heart could tell her it faster than her brain could even have time to think about it. When he held her or when she kissed him, the butterflies were everywhere in her. They fluttered in her stomach and they clouded all rational thought. And the one thing that gave her the most anxiety, was the fear of her great love being taken away.

-------------

“Based on the dresses and makeup the victims were found in, we’re looking for an unsub who is living in an elaborate fantasy world.” The crowd of officers listened intently as Emily began the profile.

“Be believes he’s special, as though he could be acting on behalf of the devil,” Y/N continued.

“This unsub tortured his victims by submerging them in water for days before killing them,” JJ said.

“Which means he’s deliberate and patient,” Y/N embellished on what JJ said.

“This guy has a vivid imagination,” Derek began. “The costumes and makeup suggest that he’s a history buff or he may be a fan of Shakespeare.”

“Using nicotine as poison is highly unusual, so he’s either very well-read or under the guidance of another,” Spencer spoke with his hands as he explained.

“His interests and delusions have caused him to become isolated socially,” Emily said.

“He can’t appear normal to his potential targets, and his crimes are not driven by sex or greed, but instead by his delusional belief system,” Rossi added.

“Although the bodies of only two victims have been recovered, there’s likely a third. Specifically, Christine Torres, who disappeared in February,” Hotch said.

“This unsubs exact age is difficult to determine, but he’s probably in his 20s to 30s,” Derek explained.

“The fact that he travels so far to abduct his victims indicates he has very specific selection criteria,” Y/N said, then turning to Spencer who began to speak.

“This unsub has a female or underage accomplice who sewed the dresses the victims were found in, but she may not be a partner in the traditional sense. It’s quite possible she was coerced into helping and may actually be a victim herself, ” Spencer said.

“Most importantly, this unsub is working according to a specific timetable,” Hotch explained.

“This timetable is corresponding with the Satanic calendar and his plans are to kidnap another victim of today,” Y/N said.

“Thank you.” Hotch’s words dismissed everyone.

----------

The room bustled as people were working on the case and other things. Y/N’s eyelids were heavy from the long day as the aimless chatter in the background made her sleepy. She reached over to her coffee cup, taking a large gulp of the warm liquid, praying that the caffeine would give her a boost of energy.

She looked at the photos Spencer held, her chair sliding closer to his so she could observe them closer, Spencer and the photos. The heat from his body radiating onto hers as she got close and she was able to be filled with his warm scent. Her eyes panned up to look at Spencer’s face, his brows furrowed in concentration as he looked at the white makeup on the faces of the victims.

“What’s got your wheels turning?” She asked him.

Spencer’s head turned to look at the woman next to him. He stuttered a bit as he formed his words, not realizing she was this close to him. “I’m not sure, something about it--” he cut himself short as both his and Y/N’s attention turned to Rossi as he spoke to them.

“So, Garcia checked out everyone associated with that theater production of The Merry Wives of Windsor, they’re all in the clear.”

“The gowns have to be connected to the theater somehow, it can’t just be a coincidence,” JJ said.

“There’s something else that’s been bothering me, why is he putting white face makeup on his victims after they’re dead?” Spencer said, voicing his question to the group he almost said to Y/N a minute before.

“Isn’t that what they wore in the Elizabethan era?” Rossi asked.

“Yes, but only upper-class women wore white face makeup, it was a symbol of virginity and purity,” Spencer explained to the group.

“But he’s dressing them like characters in The Merry Wives of Windsor,” Y/N said as she followed Spencer’s train of thought.

“And that’s one of Shakespeare’s rare plays about the middle class,” Spencer added.

“So, it’s inconsistent.” JJ looked at Spencer as she waited for confirmation on her statement.

“The makeup could mean that he believes death is purifying them,” Hotch spoke.

“What if this is like the Salem Witch trials, where they’d test the girls by trying to drown them? Y/N said something to me earlier about how she had to write a paper on them, and it got me thinking,” Spencer said.

“If they died, it meant they were innocent, and if they somehow survived, they were considered witches and then hanged,” Y/N elaborated on what Spencer was saying.

“Wonderful, a lose-lose situation,” Rossi said.

“But the unsub didn’t submerge the victims in water to torture them, it was some sort of test?” JJ asked, looking over to Spencer.

“With death being the only possible outcome,” Spencer answered.

“Well, if he believes he’s killing witches, he probably thinks that he’s a vigilante or a protector against evil of some sort,” Hotch said.

“Laying the victims out the way he did could be a message to the devil,” JJ added.

“A symbol of victory and a warning, like putting a head on a spike.” Rossi looked down from his standing position to Y/N and Spencer who sat next to each other. Y/N then looked at Spencer, her mind thinking the same thing as him as Rossi’s word’s made him pause.

“He’s not worshipping the devil,” Y/N said with realization.

“He’s trying to fight him.” Spencer looked over to Y/N as he finished what she was saying.

“So we have an unsub who’s challenging the devil, this could not get any more strange,” Y/n said.

-----------

“Missing woman is Sarah Gammon, she’s a 27-year-old graphic artist, to pick her up for her weekly breakfast together, she wasn’t there,” the detective said, walking into the room.

It was the next morning, the team only getting a couple of hours of sleep after the long night they had before.

“Where was she last seen?” Rossi asked.

“At a nightclub in Portland, the, uh, Mirage Room.” The detective stuttered as he tried to remember the name. “She went with a girlfriend who had to leave early.

“Morgan and I will check it out,” Rossi said as he exited the room.

As Rossi left the room, Hotch’s phone rang.

“Okay, so I did some varsity-level sleuthing,” Penelope said as soon as Hotch answered the phone. “And it turns out the costumes were donated to the theater by a young actress named Cate Harris. She was in their production of The Merry Wives of Windsor 16 years ago, which was the only other time that the play was produced there.”

“Where is she now?” Y/N asked.

“Oh, I was hoping you would ask because I have the answer,” Penelope spoke with excitement. “She died in 1998 in the fire at St. Baldwins psychiatric hospital.”

“I revoke my statement from last night on this getting weirder,” Y/N whispered to herself.

“Was she a patient there?” JJ asked.

“Oh, most definitely. And some say that she set the fire.”

“Garcia, can you get her medical records?” Hotch asked the woman.

“Yeah, I tried to do that, but it turns out that the new director of St. Baldwin's was a technophobe hyper-Luddite like our Dr. Reid, and he only wanted the psych records to be on paper to protect confidentiality,” Penelope explained.

“Okay.” Hotch picked up his phone and hung it up, then pocketing it. “Detective, we need you to get a copy of those records.”

“You got it,” the detective said, turning to walk out of the room.

-----------------

The navy jacket was wrapped tightly around Y/N’s torso as her, Emily and JJ walked to the storage unit of St. Baldwins that lay beneath the asylum. They were stopped outside the unit as the caretaker unlocked it.

“Apparently, the state would have to pay for a new storage facility if they moved the records,” the detective explained as to why the unit stayed here. “Someone decided, why bother if the old place works?”

The three women nodded their heads as they heard the clanking of the lock coming off of the door. The caretaker opened the door, the creaking sound giving an eerie feeling to the air.

“Ladies.” The detective motioned his hands in a welcome motion as the three walked closer to the unit.

“No electricity, I take it,” Emily said as she noticed the absence of light.

“You would be correct,” the detective said from behind the three.

Y/N and Emily sighed, both of them pulling flashlights from their pockets as the entered the room. As Y/N walked through the room, her eyes followed the flashlight’s glow as she pointed it at all the different shelves. The creepy feel from the room made her on edge as she looked for the files they were looking for.

“Hey, I think I found it.” Y/N jumped slightly, not expecting to hear a voice jump in the quiet room.

She made her way over to Emily, JJ and the detective joining her as they looked over the report in Emily’s hand.

“Yeah, oh- first of all, Cate Harris was a stage name for Catherine Heathridge, a textile heiress. Her family kept the pseudonym for her medical admission to protect their privacy,” Emily explained as she read through the file.

Y/N picked up another file from the stack that was labeled ‘Cate Harris’. “According to the intake report,” she said as she began to read the file. “Catherine was an aspiring actress who went off her psychiatric medications when she was pregnant with her daughter. She had a minor part in The Merry Wives of Windsor 16 years ago when she became floridly psychotic. She was convinced the other actresses were the devil’s wives, so she stabbed one of them.”

“Is that when she was admitted here?” JJ asked.

“No, not yet,” Emily said as she looked at the report over Y/N’s shoulder.

“It looks like she had a son and a daughter. After she fled the theater--” Y/N gasped as her eyes gazed over the next line, handing the file to Emily as she wasn’t able to say what the woman did out loud. “You can finish it.”

“After fleeing the theater, she chopped off the left arm of her infant daughter,” Emily finished as she took the file from Y/N’s hand.

“Why would she do that?” The detective asked, voice stoic.

“To make the childless appealing to the devil,” Y/N said as she looked up to JJ and Emily. Her head previously resting in her hand.

“She believed that killing the devil’s wives was her mission on earth, which is what our unsub is doing now,” Emily explained.

“But she died in the asylum fire,” the detective stated.

“Someone else must be carrying out her mission,” JJ said.

“And I bet you it’s the son,” Y/N said, the gut feeling being present as she said her words to the others.

---------------

Y/N sat at the table while she told Spencer, Hotch, and Rossi about what they had discovered at the asylum. Her head resting on her hand as she looked up at the three men.

“If someone’s carrying on in Catherine’s mission, then it’s quite possible they both suffered from folie a deux, a shared psychotic disorder between two people who are extremely close and that would mean it’s most likely a family member,” Spencer explained after Y/N had told them all they found.

“It’s the son.” Y/N’s voice spoke in a sing-song tone under her breath.

“Maybe one or both of her kids,” Rossi stated.

“Garcia, I need you to find everything you can on the Heathridge family, specifically Catherine’s son and daughter,” Hotch ordered Penelope when she picked up her phone.

“Okay, finding it as we speak…” she trailed off as she began to look for what Hotch was asking. “Bingo, Catherine, a wealthy textile heiress, had a son: James, now twenty-six and a daughter Lara, now sixteen. Father died in a speedboat accident right before Lara was born. They were raised by their grandfather in a mansion outside Portland after their mom was committed.”

“Is the grandfather still alive?” Hotch asked.

“No, he died last year,” Penelope answered.

“That could have been the stressor,” Spencer thought aloud.

“Penelope, where are the kids living now?” Y/N asked.

“James was kicked out of a seminary in Colorado three years ago, but that’s still his listed address. Lara dropped out of school six weeks ago, coincidentally on her birthday and the family home is her listed address, and I’m sending you pictures...now.”

Photos of the house and kids appeared on the tablet screen. Y/N stood up and walked over next to Rossi as he clicked on the picture of the son.

“That could be him, the man at the night club who left with Sarah Gammon,” Rossi said as he inspected the picture.

“All right, contact the seminary,” Hotch said, looking at Spencer and Rossi. “Garcia, I’m gonna need an address, Y/N let’s go.” Hotch nodded for Y/N to follow him as he began to walk out of the room.

“Yes, sir,” she responded and followed him.

“Be safe.” Spencer’s words made Y/N turn back and give him a reassuring smile that said, I always am.

“Whipped,” Rossi said, covering it up with a cough as he walked away to grab his phone. Spencer just looked at the man confused, but simply went back to his work.

---------

The cars pulled up to the manor. Sirens turned off so that they still maintained the element of surprise. They piled out of the vehicles, JJ, Emily, and Derek joining Hotch and Y/N back at the station.

“Morgan, you and JJ take the back, we’ll take the front,” Hotch said.

JJ and Derek nodded and made their way around back, while Y/N, Hotch, and Emily stayed upfront.

Y/N examined the front of the house. It wasn’t a manor in the traditional sense, it had more of a woodsy feel to its exterior.

“You see that?” Emily asked Hotch and Y/N.

Y/N looked back up at the house, finally noticing what Emily was talking about. “There’s a girl in the window.”

“All right, you check up there-” Hotch nodded to Emily. “Me and Y/N will look for James.”

Emily nodded as they took off into the house, Y/N and Hotch separating from Emily as she headed up the stairs.

Hotch pushed the door to the kitchen open, turning quickly to his right and Y/N to the left. The darkrooms they entered were only lit by the flashlights. They walked through the rooms slowly, only separating for a second to go into two different sides of the room.

Y/N walked down the steps to the basement first, Hotch now behind her as he followed closely. The basement was cold, damp, and slightly lit through the windows by the moonlight. Y/N’s heart pounded in her ears, one foot in front of the other as she moved down the steps. Her light shined as she saw the body of the missing girl on the ground by what appeared to be well.

Y/N felt a sharp pain hit her hip. She groaned as she fell to the ground, her hand clutching her hip as she felt the bruise already forming.

Hotch also let out a groan as he was hit in the legs, his gun, and flashlight sliding across the ground.

Y/N looked up to see James get tackled by Hotch and shoved into a wall. James head-butted Hotch giving him a second to go over and try to hit Y/N while Hotch stumbled back.

James brought a fire-poker around from his left side, but before he could hit Y/N with it, she kicked it out of his hand. She pushed herself up onto her feet and got a quick, hard punch in to throw him off. This allowed Hotch to grab him and shove him back to a wall. The two threw punches back and forth before Hotch pulled him away and tried to push him into the ground.

Hotch had him off his guard and he began to push him towards the well. When James fought back and punched Hotch, Y/N came over and gave a hard kick to James’ chest.

James stumbled back, the kick was just enough to send him falling onto the edge of the well. When he came back up and lurched for Hotch again, clearly being his focus, Hotch was quick to throw him back, having him fall into the well this time.

Y/N stood next to Hotch as they looked down into the deep well, James’ body laying at the bottom.

“Teamwork.” Y/N huffed the word as she looked at Hotch who just shook his head and the two made their way out of the basement.

“You’re bleeding, better get that looked at,” Hotch said, pointing to Y/N eyebrow that was in fact bleeding from when she hit the ground.

When they reached outside, Hotch told the paramedics where James was and made Y/N get looked at after her many protests.

“I’m fine, seriously.” Her protests did not make him change his mind.

“That’s an order.”

Y/N now stood with Derek as a paramedic put some butterfly bandages on the cut after accessing it was only a superficial cut.

“You good wonder woman?” Derek asked, the nickname from the previous day sticking.

“Oh yeah, you should see the other guy.” Her joke, cliche as it was, made Derek chuckle anyway as he turned to Emily as she approached.

“So, Lara is gonna be okay,” Emily said, walking over to the rest of them. “She confirmed that the bodies were left out as messages to the devil.”

“Well, her brother’s dead, so what happens to her now?” Derek asked.

“There’s always foster care,” the detective answered.

“For an heiress?” Y/N said the paramedic finished with her face and had moved on to the ambulance.

“Yeah, I don’t think so,” JJ agreed.

“There will be guardians and trustees coming out of the woodworks before she gets put into foster care,” Y/N said, making her teammates chuckle.

“So she’ll end up back here, in a house that breeds delusions,” the detective said, looking back to the house.

“Hopefully not,” Hotch spoke.

-------------

“Okay, okay, what is the best book you have ever read?” The question made Spencer ponder.

Y/N and Spencer sat in a booth at a diner in D.C., the table holding breakfast foods for the late-night date. The warm glow that surrounded the two made all their worries vanish, their attention only on the other.

“That’s a hard one, I’ve read so many.” His thumb and pointer finger lined his jaw as he placed his head between the two. “I mean, I guess fiction might have to be one of Dickens works.”

Y/N nodded her head, her legs pulled up in the seat and she sat with her back to the wall. Spencer began going on about Oliver Twist and Y/N was listening intently to every word he spoke. Watching how his lips would move faster as he began to get excited about something he was saying, or the way his voice would go an octave higher when his hands moved as he spoke. A smile played on her lips as she listened to him as he went on.

She was so engrossed in her own mind of watching him that she didn’t even notice he asked her a question until his lips stopped moving.

“Sorry, what?”

“I said, do you have a favorite work by Dickens?” He repeated his question with a laugh.

“Oh, probably Great Expectations, but I’m more of a fan of Poe, more than anything,” she answered. Her legs moved under the table as she sat facing Spencer in the both.

“For the moon never beams, without bringing me dreams, of the beautiful Annabel Lee,” Spencer quoted the poem, Anabel Lee. A smile formed on his as he watched a bashful blush on Y/N’s cheeks.

The simple poem about a tormented, beautiful young love never failed to have Y/N swoon. In high school, Anabel Lee was the poem she would read repeatedly in her textbook. The words she could quote by heart only sounded so sweeter coming from Spencer’s lips.

“I’ve always been a fan of dark romanticism,” she spoke. “This case we just had, reminded of something out of a book though if I’m being honest.” She brought her milkshake straw up to her lips, taking a sip of the creamy liquid.

“It was an odd one,” Spencer agreed.

Y/M hummed, her lips still wrapped around the straw. She pulled her eyes off Spencer to look out the window. She watched as people walked by, couples holding hands, men getting home from their offices late, but one stood out to her.

From a distance, about fifty yards across the street, a dark-haired man stood, staring at Y/N and Spencer out the window. She had no idea who this man was, but it made her stomach drop as she got a bad feeling.

“Spencer I think we should go home now,” she spoke calmly.

He furrowed his brows in confusion. “Okay, any reason why?”

“Because there is a man out there who has been staring at us for I don’t know how long, and I don’t want to deal with it anymore.” She stood up from her seat in the booth, wrapping her navy jacket around her body.

Spencer did the same as he stood up and walked next to her out of the building. “Do you think it has anything to do with--”

“I have no clue--”

“Could it?”

“I don’t know, let's just go back to your place, it’s closer.” So, that’s what they did. Spencer grabbed Y/N’s hand protectively and led her down the street while she kept her head down. The man’s face still in her thoughts, no expressions, just stoic and unsettling. His face was almost calm, seemingly normal to an untrained eye, but she knew. She could only hope this had nothing to do with Caroline and she was simply overreacting.

Tag List (let me know if you want to be added!!):

@throughparisallthroughrome @word-scribbless @nintendumbfuck @confused-and-really-hungry @justine-en @andiebeaword @itsarayofsunshine @baby-i-am-fireproof @abitofeverythinggg @nanocoool @marceline-is-my-spirit-animal @fancyfaucet @im-a-raging-gay @atletino @mo-whore

#spencer reid imagine #spencer reid #criminal minds #criminal minds imagine #criminal minds meme #aaron hotchner #aaron hotch hotchner #derek morgan #derek morgan imagine #spencer reid smut #spencer reid series

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philliamwrites · 3 years

Text

Ocean Eyes, Golden Mind

Fandom: All For The Game (Nora Sakavic)

Pairing: Neil/Andrew

Tags: #math nerd neil, #neil with glasses, #no exy

Summary: In which Neil hates his new prescribed glasses until they attract the interest of a certain Andrew Minyard.

Commissioner: Ziegenkind

Notes: Title taken from Billie Eilish’s ‘Ocean Eyes.’

Ocean Eyes, Golden Mind

Dude, it’s just a frat party. Who doesn’t go to frat parties?

The message flashes Neil’s screen white, its sender none other than his roommate Nicky who is supposed to study for an upcoming test in Public Policy in exactly nineteen hours. That’s what Neil writes him. Nicky’s reply comes instantly.

Those who study tend not to party. You know. Like you.

Neil leaves him on read. If he wants to party, he’ll lock himself inside his room, two bottles of Jack Daniel’s by his side while watching every existing compilation of cats attacking people on the small screen of his phone. He knows how to have a good time, alright. Not everyone has to set their scale like Nicky: More than once Neil has been the spectator of him coming back to the dormitory completely wasted, but still eager enough to get frozen waffles from the fridge. Being too drunk to put them in the toaster, he usually just climbs up to his top bunk and puts them between his thighs to eat them partially defrosted. It’s this fragile line between genius and stupidity that has Neil doubting if he should fill in a request for changing roommates or just live with the fact that Nicky Hemmick is one special kind of man.

So instead of spending his night curled into himself, wall against his back and eyes on every stranger distributing awful shots, Neil sits at the Math Tutoring Centre on the west side of the campus and gives group tutoring sessions.

Math comes to Neil like breathing. Like Bertrand Russel said, not only does Mathematics possess truth, but supreme beauty—a beauty cold and austere, like that of a sculpture. It is sublimely pure, and capable of a stern perfection such as only the greatest art can show. It is poetry—elegant and deep—of logical ideas to create harmony in a written line. Once he tried to explain that to Nicky over microwaved Mac n Cheese with Girls running in the background, clearly overestimating him, because Nicky only stared into space for a few seconds, and replied, “You really need to get laid, man.”

Reluctant at the beginning, Neil only agreed to join the Tutor Program because his math professor promised to throw in some extra cash. Something about raising the graduate numbers in order to get the board of education off his back. That’s where Neil’s jurisdiction of interest ends, but he has enjoyed it more than expected—the empty hallways, the harsh light of the ceiling lamps, the smell of chalk, the faint echoes of students still lingering in classrooms. There’s this magic about the Palmetto State University at night—a vulnerability that can only live once the sun sets behind the horizon. When else would he find a kid sleeping under a table in the library, or seniors breaking down in tears for exact 10 minutes before continuing their studies as if nothing has happened.

There’s another reason he’d rather spend his evening on campus, one Nicky doesn’t need to know because then Neil won’t hear the end of it. That reason being 5’0’’ tall chemistry prodigy Andrew Minyard, sitting in the last row of Neil’s math sessions each Friday. He only knows about him thanks to Nicky’s never-ending complaints, but that never really stopped him from throwing a few or more glances in Andrew’s direction. Just curiosity, of course.

So when he stands in front of the blackboard now, putting away his lesson papers which are full of numbers and equations—the kind that has enough letters to look like sentences—he feels dozens eyes burn holes in the back of his neck, and one pair belongs to Andrew. No one asks why he’s here, but everyone knows he doesn’t need to be.

In his one year of giving tutoring sessions, Neil has learnt that exactly three types of students exist: Students who are really good, certainly not in need of the extra lessons, but going anyway for some extra ego-buff and unnecessary brain-flexing. The second type is students who are okay, doing their tasks, following the lesson, not really attracting any attention safe for some crude jokes. The last type has Neil questioning his belief in the educational system of the whole state because he doesn’t understand how they are allowed inside the sacred halls of PSU.

Andrew is a special type on his own—the enigma that keeps Neil awake at two in the morning because he’s desperate to solve it, but without knowing where to start, he’s just running in circles. His fingers itch to solve an equation with multiple variables, to find the solution to a problem and get it off his mind.

He doubts it will be this easy with Andrew.

“Before we continue to look at scalar products in R- and C-vector spaces, we’ll consider bilinear and semi-bilinear forms in general, and link them to matrices for their representation to chosen bases.” Neil’s hand flies across the board, leaving letters and parenthesizes that look like bizarre drawings—art in its most complex form. Once he’s finished, he takes a step away, wipes the chalk on his fingers off on his jeans, and turns to his audience. “What happens to this equation with the semi-bilinear form σ?”

Two hands shoot up immediately. He ignores them; no need to feed their ego, and instead picks a freshman who’s been staring at his phone for the last ten minutes. Making way, Neil moves back to the student’s seats and leans against a desk.

Is it the farthest place away from the board? It is.

Is it the closest that will get him to Andrew? Might be so.

It certainly gives him a good look at what Andrew’s been doing since Neil started—and that is not solving a single task on the paper Neil has handed out at the beginning of the session. Andrew, apparently bored before it even started, has taken out a slip of paper with a sudoku puzzle on it and is solving it against his leg, completely linked out of the instruction.

Neil tries not to stare too much at Andrew’s bare arms, and instead looks back at the board.

“Does that look right?” the freshman—Rhys or Rheeze or something like that—asks, turning around.

Neil narrows his eyes and squints at the board. He can’t make out a single thing, and that’s bad, yes, but his feet betray him, staying rooted where they are instead of reducing the distance until he can distinguish σ from a.

“Where does the l come from,” he asks. Multiple heads snap in his direction.

“That’s a j, Josten,” someone says from the other side of the room.

Neil squints harder. “And the u?”

“A μ.”

“No, it’s a v,” a girl next to Neil says, and that’s when the everyone starts shouting about what’s on the board and what isn’t.

Neil bears it for a solid minute before he surrenders. He pulls a small case from his pocket, opens it. Puts his glasses on.

The whole room goes silent.

Neil checks the equation, nods. “Correct. Who’s next?”

Multiple people stir, one manages to get up, and walks straight into a table leg. Neil questions that ‘straight’, because only then the freshman guy stops staring at Neil and steers his attention to the equation on the blackboard.

It was a bad idea, and Neil still hates Allison for forcing him to go. She’d dragged him to the doctor last week to get his eyes tested, annoyed by his never-ending questions of ‘What’s written there?’ or ‘Is that a six or an eight?’.

“They’re my eyes,” Neil had said, arms crossed as he sat in the office and waited for his turn.

“And it’s me who has to see your ugly squinting face,” Allison had replied.

Two hours later Neil had finally his prescriptions but that didn’t mean he was free from Allison’s clutches. He would have been fine with some glasses from the dollar store, but she insisted that if he’s going to wear them more than once a day, he should get designer glasses—thin frames and a color that matches his copper hair. She suggested gold. Neil picked black. The look of disappointment on Allison’s face was something that deserved its own painting to commemorate it. But once they’d finally chosen the right pair, she’d given him the very same look most of the students are giving him now—a mix between slight awe and disbelief as if he’s grown a second head. Or owes them all a month’s worth of lunch money.

“Well,” had Allison said at least, turning away to pack up and go home. “Tigers have their stripes. I have my eyeliner.” She threw him another scrutinizing look over her shoulder. “You have your glasses.” If it was supposed to make him feel better, it didn’t work, and right now he regrets nothing more than allowing Allison to drag him around.

Neil’s eyes land on Andrew’s sudoku puzzle, now half-hidden under his papers, and he sees now that he isn’t even solving the thing, but simply coloring in the empty squares.

He takes a second too long and meets Andrew’s eyes staring back at him.

“Problem, Josten?” Andrew asks with a blank expression, tapping the end of his pen against his monochrome picture of black and white squares.

Neil wants to see how far he can push until he walks against a brick wall and breaks something. He returns his gaze to the board but feels Andrew’s eyes like a solid touch on the back of his neck.

After the session, the students hurry outside, still throwing curious glances over their shoulders at Neil and if he could merge with the back of his chair and disappear forever, that would be totally okay. It isn’t until a shadow looms above him that he looks up from his own homework and draws in a careful breath when Andrew towers above him.

Neil raises an eyebrow. “Problem, Minyard?”

Andrew’s face gives nothing away, and when he stretches out a hand, Neil doesn’t flinch. His glasses slip off easily, held between Andrew’s thumb and index finger.

“Nicky told me he’s trying to convince you to join him tomorrow,” Andrew says. Neil needs a second, because that is the most words he’s heard out of Andrew’s mouth.

“I have no reason to go,” Neil says, his eyes jumping up and down, from the equation that makes his sight blur to Andrew leaning his slender waist against the table.

“You have one now.” It’s barely neutral enough to not sound like a threat, but Neil stares at Andrew nonetheless, and when he puts Neil’s glasses on, Neil’s heart does a weird stutter. He’s still starring at Andrew when he leaves the room, and no, his eyes don’t stray, they stay on Andrew’s broad back, and if they dip lower it’s because of the light.

Once he’s alone, Neil takes a deep breath, exhales slowly. Puts his head in his arms and counts to ten in French first, then again in German. His heart still does this weird thing, trying to bruise his ribs from the inside.

He gets his phone, texts Nicky he’ll go to the frat party tomorrow and puts it away, not interested in his roommate’s reply. There’s still the equation he needs to solve, but for the first time Neil’s heart isn’t really into math, and he is quite alright with it.

#philliamwrites #ao3 #fanfiction #aftg #andreil #andrew minyard #neil josten #all for the game #andrew x neil #neil x andrew #andrew/neil #neil/andrew

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coldvampire · 3 years

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@impossible-rat-babies tagged me in a “fictional characters that remind me of/i project onto my oc” meme (thank u owen uwu) so! naturally i went with kat because who else?? would i talk about???/s

she’s an interesting one to disseminate because she’s existed in my head in some capacity or another since i was like. six lmao. obviously this is just going off of her most recent iteration, which is ~vampire~. because she’s so established for me, this is more about vibes/similarities rather than direct creation inspiration.

yennefer of vengerberg (specifically the book/offical canon take on her character) - look i feel like this is just kinda obvious lmao. visually the wiki paraphrases her description as having “pronounced cheekbones, natural, slightly irregular eyebrows trimmed by hand and emphasized with charcoal, long eyelashes, and petite hands. Even in high-heeled shoes she wasn't tall, was beautiful but threatening...” yeah okay kinda cringe perhaps but also this is a power fantasy so. i can do what i want lmao. but yeah overall small, scary-hot, pale, cool eyes, great hair, that’s the visual i have in mind. and personality wise, it’s no surprise that yen was my favourite from the series & that you can see some of the same qualities in kat. i have a weakness for shrewd, self-aware powerful women with internal damage and soft spots for their very select group of loved ones. (mod link.)

mia wallace. height clearly wasn’t a factor here lmao, but i think as far as colour palette and personality go you can see some connections. i wouldn’t call her a femme fatale or anything like that, but there’s something very much surly-yet-feminine about uma’s performance that i dig. also, the risk-taking behaviours and smoking motif.

deanna troi. alright so personality wise they. don’t have a ton in common actually. perhaps it’s just something about being a cool bi women with a thing for scruffy slightly dorky men lmao. deanna could just very well come to mind for the visuals. look at her hair! i need to know what was going on in the next generation’s styling department because i don’t think marina sirtis had a bad look for the entire 7 season run. oh, and i guess it’s also neat that both kat and deanna’s actress are greek.

miranda lawson. i’m noticing a pattern here. are you noticing a pattern here? we love dedicated career women who use their expertise and skillset to put up emotional walls and avoid vulnerability like the plague (until they can’t, that is) and who show they care in some endearingly bizarre ways. miranda and kat both share a protective love & dedication to their families, a tendency to scold rather than admit they were worried, the knowledge that they’re the hottest person in any given room, and oh my god issues with their fathers (or with kat, her sire) in spades. & once again, pretty dark haired woman with cool eyes.

liz sherman. with liz, i think the biggest draw is probably the complicated relationship we see between her and hellboy in the first film. i think that internally she probably pushes people away from a similar place, but her reasons are different than kat. also the way they isolate themselves kinda parallels too--liz seems the type who wants to just quietly recede, whereas if kat feels trapped she goes scorched earth. then again that does seem to be,,, a less literal version of what happens with liz so. maybe there’s more to that than i think.

helga sinclair. holy shit, we have our first outlier for hair colour! full disclosure, i don’t actually remember anything about this movie or her character. like, at all. but that said, the energy she gives off & how she carries herself? very much kat. also, matching under-eye beauty marks!

meg. attitude and vocal tone (in respect to how her voice is low; i don’t have a voice claim for kat right now, but this wouldn’t be how i picture her sounding). also the whole relationship with love and romance and opening yourself up to being with someone else is very apt.

beatrix kiddo. uma thurman has some very iconic roles that really solidified themselves in my brain here, doesn’t she? in this case, while kat’s revenge arc isn’t about a child, it is very much about killing a certain man. that single-minded ruthlessness is extremely her, much like her willingness to get her hands dirty and put in the work. also, the dedication--if you cross enough of her boundaries, kat will quite literally chase someone for the better part of a century until she feels they’ve atoned properly.

#oc tag #katerina irakleidis #vampire the masquerade

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ijustwant2write · 4 years

Text

‘You’re not as strong as him!’-Sam Wilson x Reader

(GIF credit to @spideyjlaw)

Summary: After Sam receives Steve’s shield (alongside the huge responsibility of being the new Captain America), (Y/N) can’t help but worry over her friend. He and Steve were not the same person, but the weight of it all comes crashing down on both of them.

Characters: Sam Wilson x Reader, Bucky Barnes x Reader (platonic)

Meanings: (Y/N)=Your name

Warnings: Mention of death, violence, angst, fluff

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

(Y/N) stood outside of the Stark’s home, arms folded over one another as she watched the interaction going on ahead of her. After all the things she had seen, all the things she had been through, it was amazing that something could still shock her this much. She had been sneakily watching as Steve took back the infinity stones, only to cause panic when he didn’t return as expected; only she saw what Bucky was gazing at, an old man sat on a bench in the distance, shield propped up beside him. It had been a bizarre picture, her eyes almost popping out of their sockets when she saw Steve hand Sam the shield.

Everyone was inside now, all except Sam. Sat at the same bench as Steve, looking down at the shield beside him, he hadn’t come back for over an hour. (Y/N) didn’t want to ask questions about him, Sam wouldn’t want all the attention. Instead, (Y/N) slipped outside, wrapping her arms around her torso from the chill in the air as she walked towards him. Sam glanced behind him when he heard someone approaching, relaxing as (Y/N) smiled at him. He smiled back, though it was obvious how fake it was.

“You OK?” (Y/N) breathed out as she sat down.

“Yeah.” Sam nodded his head, eyes not leaving the shield before them.

“Just when you thought you had seen it all.”

He chuckled at that.“Can’t say I was expecting this. I took it but...when I held it, I could feel the weight of his legacy in my hands.”

“You’re Sam Wilson, the Falcon. You’re not Steve Rogers.”

“I know. Which makes it all the more stressful.”

(Y/N) wrapped an arm around his broad shoulders, squeezing it gently.“I’m right here, always. You know that, right?”

He looked down at her, sliding his arm around her waist and pulling her closer.“I know. And I’m grateful for that.”

Things had been strange since Tony’s funeral. Of course, everyone was in mourning, nothing would be exactly the same after what happened. And after such a huge battle against Thanos and his army, how could anyone be at peace that soon? Those who survived mostly focused on training, it was the only thing that could distract themselves from their thoughts or release their anger. Some chose to socialise, needing people around to remind themselves that they had won, and the nightmares plaguing their sleep were all fake; others stayed locked up in their rooms, not able to strike up a conversation as easily as they used to, worried that the topic would soon move onto how they were feeling about everything that happened. No one wanted to relive that.

“Morning Bucky.” (Y/N) lightly greeted the man who was looking out of the window.

He only hummed in response, clearly focused on something.

“What are you looking at?” (Y/N) quietly asked, not wanting to disturb him.

“Sam’s been out there for a while, with the shield.”

(Y/N) stood beside him, following his gaze to their friend. Sam’s eyes were burning into the shield which he was holding once again, moving it around as the sun reflected off of it. Slowly, he slipped his arm through it, standing as Steve once did. (Y/N) flinched as he drew his arm back, quickly throwing it before it got wedged in a tree trunk. Sam was staring at it, as were Bucky and (Y/N).

“Why are you so tense?” Bucky broke the silence.

“I’m worried.” she mumbled, still looking at Sam.

“Steve wouldn’t hand it over if he didn’t think Sam was right for it.”

“I know. But he’s not Steve.”

“(Y/N), the battle is over, maybe forever, maybe for a few days. You’re one of the stronger ones here, you know how to keep everyone else in high spirits, or keep them stable in times like this. But you’re not looking after yourself.”

“I’m fine Bucky. I’m not the one who has Captain America’s shield.”

He began to walk away.“And I’m not the one hiding my feelings, despite losing someone I love multiple times.”

There was no spite in his voice. It was soft, as if nudging (Y/N) to think about herself, think about what she truly wanted. This line of work meant putting the world first, all those lives before your own; but after saving them all those times, part of her wondered if it was finally (Y/N)’s turn to find her own happiness. If the man she wanted would have her that is. Taking a very deep breath, (Y/N) glanced once more at Sam who was fetching the shield before making her way down to him. There were many emotions swirling around in her head and gut, trying to think of something to start the conversation. As she stepped outside, Sam was making his way towards the building, smiling when he saw her.

“If you’re here to see the show, I’m afraid it’s already over.” He said, gesturing to the shield.

“I saw you throw it, made quite a dent in the tree.”

Sam looked back at it.“Uh, yeah. Best not tell anyone about that.”

“Your secret is safe with me.”

“What you doing out here anyway?”

A strain of profanities were screaming in (Y/N)’s mind, panicking over what to say.“Just...came to see you.”

“What’s wrong? You seem a little...off.”

“Sam I...I’m worried about you. The shield, it’s the only thing on your mind.”

He chuckled out of nerves.“I mean, it sort of has to be.”

“Don’t you think after all that’s happened, you should take a break first?”

“Shouldn’t everyone?”

“Well, yes, but-”

“(Y/N), what is this really about?”

She huffed, pushing aside her feelings to tell him the truth.“I’m worried because you’re not Steve. You’re Sam. You weren’t injected with super solider serum that gives you incredible strength, or helps you recover much faster than an average human. I just don’t want you to think now that you have the shield, you’re suddenly invincible.”

Sam’s mouth hung open, scoffing at her.“What are you trying to say? That I’m not good enough for the shield?”

“It’s not a matter of if you’re good enough-”

“So I’m not then?”

“What? Yes, of course you are!”

“Then what’s the problem?”

He brushed past her, causing (Y/N) to sigh as she ran after him.

“Sam, I’m saying this as your friend.”

“A friend would support me.”

“And a friend would look out for you!”

They were both facing each other, intensely glaring into the other’s eyes. (Y/N) could have screamed at him, finally confessing her true feelings for the man she had fought beside all these years; but the courage she was used to wasn’t there anymore.

“Forget it.” she shakily breathed out, scurrying away before Sam could say anything else.

It was extremely frustrating for (Y/N) to not be able to express herself when it came to the sensitive topic of love. Being a S.H.I.E.L.D agent had restricted her from doing that. The only people you ever interacted with were the ones you worked with. And it was rare to see any type of romance happening, even secretly between colleagues.

(Y/N) found herself in the gym, not using any of the equipment but pacing up and down the mats, stuck with her thoughts. She had considered using the punching bag to relieve stress, though couldn’t muster up enough strength. Her body felt exhausted. Giving up, she slumped down onto the floor, bringing her knees in to her chest. It wasn't fair. Why couldn't she say the right thing to Sam to make him see what she was thinking? What she was feeling? It had all come out wrong.

"Hey."

A voice made her head lift up, seeing Sam standing in the doorway.

"Hi." she replied, scared as to where the conversation would be about.

Sam slowly approached her."I'm sorry about earlier. We shouldn't have argued like that."

"I just wish you would listen to me." she mumbled as he sat beside her.

"I am listening."

"I..." (Y/N) found it hard to look at him."I'm not good with this Sam."

"What are you talking about? You're just talking to me."

"Exactly!" she huffed, moving to sit on top of her knees.

"(Y/N), what's going on?" Sam was more assertive, reaching out to put his hand over hers, surprised when she snatched it away.

"What I was saying earlier, about me being concerned for you, I didn't get to explain myself properly."

"I understand-"

"You don't though Sam! I've seen you injured, laying beside Steve in a hospital bed. And who was released days, maybe even over a week before the other?"

"I'm not trying to be like Steve."

"What about the pressure of everyone else's opinions? I can see it happening. You become comfortable with it, you're doing an amazing job, then one person says something and it knocks you down. You're going to try and take on much more than you actually can, and you'll get hurt, and I'll see you in worse shape than I've seen you before. I can't see you like that Sam."

Although she was ranting, it wasn't full of hysteria. Sam had kept up with everything she said, but was still confused.

"Slow down. (Y/N), I'm not going to let it get to me."

(Y/N) sighed, standing up and turning away as she felt her eyes tear up. Why wasn't it getting through to him?

"Sam I...I'm trying my hardest to tell you this-"

Sam jumped to his feet, circling (Y/N) to be in front of her. He grew sad when he saw the tears falling down her cheeks, realising how much this was upsetting her.

"Hey, just breathe OK? It's just you and me." Sam gently held her shoulders, breathing in sync with her.

"Sam," (Y/N) finally said after she calmed herself,"we've been through a lot, with everyone I know, but whenever there's been a fight, you're the only person on my mind. After Thanos, after you disappeared in front of me, I thought I would never see you again. And every day after that, I couldn't stop thinking about you."

"You were the first person I wanted to see when we came back." Sam confidently said.

"I was?"

"Of course! But what with everything that happened after, I didn't want to just bombard you with these feelings I've hidden from you. That mixed with...well,im just going to say it, the lives we lost wouldn't work."

"I understand. I've wanted to tell you for so long. But I've never done anything like this before."

"We're here, we're together. We've been through a battle like no other. And looking at you now, I can't risk losing you without you knowing how I feel for you."

Feeling that she could say anything more, (Y/N) placed her hand on the back of Sam's neck, pulling him down to meet her lips. Sam's hands slowly moved from her shoulders to wrap around her waist, holding her tighter. Fights put things into perspective, especially a battle as intense as that. (Y/N) found that body language worked better for her, and if that meant kissing Sam all the time to show her feelings, she wouldn't be complaining.

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