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lettrespromises · 4 years

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╰┄───➤ LettresPromises informs you : you have one notification. ❜

╰┄───➤ Zoro Roronoa sent you a letter, would you like to read it? ➤ This letter is part of a correspondence with @nakunakunomi.

➤ the author’s letter : ❝dear reader, as indicated above, this is a special letter for @nakunakunomi‘s special event, and in good myself fashion, i’m posting this on the very last day of the submission, and i’m so sorry! hopefully you will like this as much as i enjoyed writing this! and most of all, congratulations are in order for you, doll, may many more milestones come your way! sealed with a loving kiss, nikki.❞

➤ letter object: ❝They say the heart speaks the loudest when animated by adrenalin and when the last instincts to survive snap. Zoro is bound to prove that selflessness should not only be categorized as a quality, that is, according to your point of view. P.S: the given cliché was “You took a bullet for me.” and the mandatory word was “current.”❞ ➤ genre: angst, sadness, fluff if you squint. ➤ warnings: mentions of violence, blood, characters being hurt, vague ending, minor characters deaths.

The sounds of the clash of swords and the cries of pain had the monopoly of the reigning sounds on the battlefield. Humanity had left the vacinity and blood had become a normality and thus, reversed the paradox of making where violence becomes something accepted. Encouraged even, in these circumstances.

Another soldier fell to the ground, the absent look in his eyes testified of the departure of his soul on its way to the skies. The skies were welcoming him, whispering his name in a hushed whisper to take him away from the hell which had risen on Earth.

At this very moment, on this very vecinity, humanity and compassion had no meaning. Hell was empty. After all, hell is the others.

The next sound to break the silence was Zoro’s choked breath, absorbed by the presence of his sword held by his teeth. The hold on said sword seemed to grow more and more tight, his jawbone was a sharp as his blades, a testimony of the rage building within his body and manifesting itself in small outbursts of adrenaline.

Another dance of his arms provoked the appearance of another slashing attack, and the souls of several other soldiers of the marine quietly joined the soul of the first victim, the unknown soldier. Another chocked breath got struck in his throat, causing his digits to grasp the edge of his sword and pull it away from his mouth so the oxygen could flow in peacefully at last. Air had become a rarity at this point.

His lone eye observed the scenery worthy of a tragedy before him. His crew mates were fighting against the enemy, and a gleam of despair which quietly said “we know our lives are on the line” was the fuel of their fire, their sole motive to fight. Usopp and Chopper were fighting back to back in an attempt to push the attacks back, Franky had abandoned the idea of fighting without the General Franky, Luffy exuded anger by every pore and hell, even the Ero cook seemed to show some struggle.

“Hmpf!” Another sound break the deafening silence of agony.

Zoro’s instinct of protectiveness over his crew mates kicked harder than before, as soon as the sound connected with his eardrums, his eye darted to the source of the sound. And here you were, your frame crashing down on the ground in the most shameful glory, red and purple halos colored your skin amongst the rain of blood.

“Y/N!” Zoro screamed, his voice breaking under the weight of his emotions as he ran to your side.

You just groaned and held you mouth wide open to welcome fresh air, which was the only current concern weighing on your mind aside from your instinct of survival. A burning envy to cough freed an inferno in your larynx, you obliged to the wills of your body and in exchanged you were thanked with small dots of blood.

“Y/N! What happened? Who did that to you?” The last question was distinctive by its much deeper tone, a proof of Zoro’s new will to go on a rampage. His eyes scanned your body to seek for any injury, “What the hell?! You’re bleeding so much! I’ll go get Chopper— Wait, fuck, no! I can’t leave you alone!”

The rhythm of his speech demonstrated the effervescence of his emotions, his thoughts connecting to his mouth without a filter. His orb scanned frenetically your frame, and the slouch of his shoulder spoke volume about his difficulty to make a decision. There were so many alarming elements— you struggled to breath, blood was leaking and out your rib cage and why the hell was it pouring in a cascade from your body? Zoro relentlessly called Chopper’s name, and you just felt like he was bound to rip his vocal cords.

“Zoro, l-look at me. Please. I’m okay, it’s-ahh! just a bit of blood, I’ve had worse.” The words left your lips in a silence, but it was enough for Zoro to hear. Enough for him to envelop you carefully against his chest while a single tear threatened to fall. He had already lost Kuina, could he afford losing you? No.

“Don’t look at me like that. I told you it’s fine. It’s, mmfh, it’s just a bit of blood. I’m not going to go away.” You offered him a hint of a smile, but to Zoro it was the most beautiful smile he had ever seen, a sign of hope in the middle of this tragedy.

He was so deep in his thoughts, so obsessed with the idea to save you, so— “Zoro, kiss me.”

“Hah?!”

“I said kiss me, Zoro. I always thought that a confession in the middle of a battle was romantic.” His throat grew dry at the esquisse of this confession, and a chuckle left his lips. A chuckle which turn into a vivid laugh, as if he had just learnt how to laugh.

And that was it, by cradling your neck well enough, Zoro lowered to your height and planted his lips upon yours, and the sound of your lips colliding against one another killed all the noise around you. It was just you and him. Just two souls in harmony.

“You still haven’t told me where all that blood is coming from…”

“I took a bullet for you.” you stated and the simplicity of your tone almost scared him.

“YOU WHAT?!” if Zoro hadn’t been careful enough, he would’ve dropped you on the ground, but thankfully, he kept his emotions in check, although guilt was coming to eat him alive.

You looked at the sky, “you always said that taking a blow in the back was a swordsman’s worst shame. I didn’t want you to feel that. I didn’t want you to break your own mantra” you responded, your orbs now locked on his.

“You didn’t have to go this far! The hell is wrong with you?”

“It’s called love, Zoro. Would you like me to show it to you again?” you interrogated, just the sight of him was enough to ease your pain.

Zoro nodded and brought his lips to yours, knowing you were unable to move, whilst still cradling you in the protectiveness of his embrace.

Two long lost souls became one in the middle of a battlefield.

#zoro x reader #one piece x reader #zoro roronoa x reader #one piece imagine #one piece one shot #one piece #zoro #zoro roronoa #roronoa zoro

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bronyinabottle · 3 years

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Some Preliminary thoughts on MLP Generation 5

I was considering waiting for a Trailer before speaking on this. I assume one will probably come out any day now, heck the way things are coming out I probably won't be surprised if I end up sort of jinxing things and we get our first trailer smack-dab in the middle of tomorrow or something. But I do want to sort of give my current thoughts heading into G5. As we've gotten alot more tidbits then the rather vague details from the first few months since our first look at the new characters back in Feburary. If we do get a trailer, depending what is shown. Maybe I'll make a follow-up post.

I will first say that I do plan on giving both the movie and series a shot, none of the concerns that I express in this post will make me hesitate in at least checking how the movie and show goes on it's own merits. There is a possibility the movie and/or show ends up being fun despite the underlying concerns I'm about to say. Without further adieu, I'll begin.

((More thoughts after the break))

We are now almost 80 days from the premiere of G5. And most information up until recently have been fairly vague on what exactly is the G5 world. With a brand new cast, and even some vastly different design from the G4 pony design we knew it feels like at least from a visual standpoint that this is supposed to be an entirely new generation. The same way G1 or G3 is not the same universe as G4. However, both some vague information and recent information sort of dropped the bombshell that no, G5 is actually supposed to be in the same world that the G4 Equestria is. Which lets get to the general point of this:

Even if the G4 world that we loved in Friendship is Magic is sort of now this ancient past in which for at least thousands of years there was harmony between all the pony races and non-ponies alike as shown in the future of The Last Problem until perhaps some sort of slow collapse later on happened (Presumably long, long, LOOOOOONG after assumingly everyone of the Main 6 sans Twilight have died from old age). It... might be a bitter pill to swallow for any fan of G4 that loved the show's happy ending. Sure, at the very least it doesn't look like they're trying to say that at some point Twilight failed, as heck Sunny is probably sure to look at Twilight as this legendary hero to aspire to be like. But still, it just doesn't feel like a good look when while I get why G5 is having it's premise of Sunny and the others making the world a better place. Upon seeing the initial synopses of the show. It very much feels like it was Hasbro taking note of last year's George Floyd/BLM Protests. Which I will say is potentially a good direction. But it'd help if this was an entirely new universe that is having this divided world problem. Not a long time after G4 itself ended on the positive note on just about every notable species pony or non-pony alike are living in harmony where Sunny's goal had already basically been achieved.

I get the idea behind having G5 mentioned as the same world as G4. It's an attempt to have their cake and eat it too where they're trying quite a bit new and also try to keep many of the fans of G4 that proved to be a lightning in a bottle. It's a big truth that Friendship is Magic is going to be a hard act to follow even if G5 turns out great on it's own merits. Having an entirely new universe from Hasbro's perspective I also get have some risks. You toss away a world so many people love for one that the fans might find it hard to find an interest in flocking to like the previous one. At the same time though, taking G5 as the far future of G4 runs the risk of heavily feeling like everything Twilight and the Mane 6 did eventually fell to ruin and the ponies became divided again anyway despite the very finale showing they may have very well ended it for good. With even non-pony species part of the harmony that exists.

I guess the counterpoint may be that in if they must have G5 a follow-up in some way of G4. Then there must be some sort of conflict as otherwise the show would feel boring without many villains and/or adventures to save the day going on. The cost of G4's massive success is that no matter what direction they take G5, it's going to be a struggle for it to find the same footing. But what's worse: Making a new world which while it may potentially disinterest fans of G4 with a lack of familiar faces, it can have potential to grow in it's own fashion and maybe just maybe you'll get something of a following even if it's alot smaller. Or possibly saying it's in the same world where the world of Equestria has somehow gotten to the point that it got worse then when Celestia was ruling Equestria by herself (Because at least under Celestia even with Luna banished to the moon and Twilight was either not there yet or still training. The three pony races were generally united as they have been for more then a thousand years. Not segregated as they are implied to be in G5.)

And while it's too early to tell and could easily be still very much a part of G5 is the non-ponies that were featured in the later seasons. Will Changelings, Dragons, Kirins, Hippogriffs, etc. still play a role? Or will it only focus on ponies? Because the less there are of the non-pony species, the less it will feel like this truly is supposed to be the same world of Equestria we knew. Unless you want to say in a really dark direction that most non-pony species went extinct ever since G4 happened. Even if they're never going to explain how Equestria collapsed into the G5 world (Which I have something of a suspicion that they might never explain it completely)

And another question that is sure to follow... are all the Alicorns from G4. Whether it be Celestia, Luna, Twilight, Cadence, or Flurry Heart... all dead at this point? We never really got much lore about Alicorns even throughout all of G4. So while it's certainly still possible that the Alicorns are more mortal then the fans have been led to believe. That doesn't mean it's not an important question to think about. As if this supposed to be a follow-up to G4. G5 is well within it's right to tell us that maybe we overestimated the immortality of the Alicorns, though because G4 never gave us a straight answer... it means it's entirely on G5 to tell us it's own interpretation. No matter what they say will alienate some fans because the topic of Alicorns has always been a touchy subject even before Twilight herself became an Alicorn or even arguably before the introduction of Cadence due to the many, many, fan interpretations of Luna until we finally got a look at canon Luna in Luna Eclipsed and the fear of how many headcanons it'd destroy (Didn't turn out as bad as people thought it would, but just that the fear was there sowed the seeds of what discourse the Alicorns in G4 was going to cause)

Before we got the detail from the book that G4 is considered ancient equestria in G5's world. There was speculation on the possibility that G4 is actually fictional in G5 world. In other words, the G5 world is in fact an entirely new world but in a meta sort of way is a TV show that Sunny and others were a fan of. Which would explain both the changes that are much different from Equestria (With stuff like horn and wings being different colors from the coat) and the fact Sunny had Mane 6 figures and merchandise in her room. This in retrospect might of been the smarter decision because even with the slight possibility of making some G4 fans mad that they're entirely tossing out the previous series and only having it being mentioned in a fictional context. It wouldn't run the risk of overriding the happy ending. Of course, I wouldn't be surprised if say if they took that direction they'd pull a Daring Do and have it that yes in fact G4 was once G5's past. But in order to show that, they'd have to bring back the G4 Mane 6 in some fashion. Perhaps in a pulled out of limbo-like fashion like they did for the Founders. Though that in itself comes with the problem that they'd want the Mane 6 to be actually recognizable and thus young looking. And if they come out of a limbo while still looking fairly young, it means they weren't around in the past for much long for some odd reason.

That's all I have for now at least on the top of my head. If there's a trailer coming soon I might make another of these as I said. And I'm also open to any responses whether if you want to tell me you have some of the same concerns or do anything that might calm my own concerns about the way G5 might be stepping on G4's toes whilst trying to maintain G4's fandom into the coming generations. Thanks to anyone who bothered to read. I wish good luck on G5, but if concerns aren't addressed and/or they end up correct on some fronts. There's a chance I may have quite the baggage clouding my mind even before the movie and series starts...

#MLP #my little pony #my little pony the next generation #g5 #g4 #mlp g5 #mlp g4 #netflix #my little pony movie #generation 5 #generation 4

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beneaththetangles · 4 years

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The World Is Not Enough: Isekai and the Hope for More

When it comes to anime and light novels, you can’t swing a dead cat without hitting an isekai series or six. Countless stories spanning many genres have used the person-travels-to-another-world premise. To borrow language from the infamous TV Tropes, the isekai concept has been played straight, played with, inverted, subverted, parodied, deconstructed, reconstructed, and more.

People must like isekai stories (I know I do!), otherwise there wouldn’t be approximately 47 million of them, with new ones coming out all the time. Regarding this topic, I recently actually-a-while-ago-but-it-took-me-a-long-time-to-write-this happened to see a post by Twitter user Sashimi Princess Maddie which was retweeted by J-Novel Club:

This post struck a chord with me because I’m fascinated by the connection between fantasy and faith. J.R.R. Tolkien’s essay “On Fairy-Stories” is of course required reading on this topic, as is Chapter IV — “The Ethics of Elfland” — in G.K. Chesterton’s book Orthodoxy. They discussed fantasy generally, and logically what is true of all fantasy is also true of the specific subset of fantasy we call isekai. Now, the tweet is obviously partly humorous, so it would be unjust to respond to or critique it as if it were a serious essay. However, I do want to highlight one point of possible disagreement that I believe is relevant to my own thoughts. (I say “possible” because without a full-fledged essay from Maddie, I may be overlooking or misunderstanding points that a more complete argument would resolve.)

Japan is ground zero for isekai. The isekai stories we consume overwhelmingly originate in Japan, and are written by Japanese people for Japanese people. And Japan is a place where Christianity’s influence has been meager, at best, since the Tokugawa period. Meanwhile, the religions with any sizeable footprint in Japan, namely Shinto and Buddhism, don’t contain a concept of heaven comparable to that found in the teachings of, say, Christianity or Islam. Christians make up 1% to 2% of Japan’s population (depending on which estimate you read), which means many Japanese people have probably never even met a Christian! Thus the appeal of isekai in Japan cannot be explained in terms of filling in a gap left behind by the decline of traditional religious hope for heaven.

The OP’s argument would work better if the vast majority of isekai came from, say, western Europe or the United States. Throughout much of the west, Christianity formerly held immense cultural influence. However, Christianity’s influence in these places has declined greatly in the past century or three. If such places produced most isekai stories, we could make a more plausible case that isekai draws upon lingering notions of heavenly reward, relics of a discarded traditional religion whose notions permeated society, in order to fill the hope-deficit created by that religion’s decline.

I believe while Maddie is correct to find conceptual connections between isekai and religion, I just find the specific relationship posited by the OP inadequate, especially with regard to Japanese people. Thus I invite you, dear reader, to consider other Bible teachings that do more to explain the appeal of isekai even in a culture where Christianity (including its notions of heaven) never held much sway. The picture of our world and human nature painted in the Old Testament provides a partial explanation for why we like isekai, an explanation that is not contingent on lingering cultural debris left behind by Christianity.

Let’s look “In the beginning” — yes, the one where “God created the heavens and the earth.” As God completes his creative work in Genesis 1, we read “And God saw everything that he had made, and behold, it was very good.” *That* is the world in which God intended us to live. And all this “very good” stuff includes humans, too, who the text says God created in his own image. Alas, we humans ruined things. To put it another way, long ago God and man lived together in harmony. Then, everything changed when the Fire Nation sin attacked.

Yeah, after God created all this good stuff (including we humans!), Genesis 3 introduces a slew of bad things that weren’t supposed to be part of this world: sin, death, the curse. Of course, God knew this would happen, and already had a plan in place. That plan reached its climax in the crucifixion and resurrection of Jesus, but in some respects it is (at least from our point of view) not yet completed. For now, we still live in a cursed and corrupted post-Genesis 3 world, a place where sin and death run rampant. We ourselves are broken by sin, and we must endure in a world unlike the one God originally created for humans.

The entire Bible is stories of humans sinning, which goes a long way toward showing what mess this world is, but the Bible also contains an entire treatise specifically exploring how awful our post-Genesis 3 world really is. Speaking of our world as “under the sun,” Ecclesiastes incessantly hammers home the “vanity” of this life. “Under the sun” is an unreasonable, unjust, and oppressive place that we can’t understand or fix. “Under the sun” is a place where bad things *will* happen to us no matter how hard we try to avoid them. “Under the sun,” all our labors will accomplish nothing of lasting value. “Under the sun,” we’re all gonna die just like dumb animals, no matter how we lived. And then the cherry on top is that after we die, no one “under the sun” will even remember us, and any stuff we had will be misused by people who don’t deserve to have it.

Our own experiences validate this picture of pointlessness. I had an abusive childhood; I’ve faced a slew of physical and mental health issues; I’m presently almost 35 and I’ve never so much as gone on a date, let alone gotten married or had a family; I’m unemployed and living with my parents because I’m failing so hard at adulting. I’m not hopelessly miserable–God has abundantly blessed me in certain respects–but that doesn’t negate the reality that in some meaningful ways, my life is a big huge disappointment. You, O reader mine, will have different points of sadness and frustration and failure than I do, but I suspect most of us, if we’re honest, would have to concede that our lives are painfully disappointing, or at the very least have not followed the tracks we dreamed they would.

This image of the incomparable Kanami from the isekai series Log Horizon serves no purpose except to break up my wall of text and make me (you?) laugh.

Creation and the Fall provide the starting point for the appeal of isekai. God wanted us to be good and to live in a good world, but thanks to our sin, both we and this world are in far worse shape than he originally intended. Since we weren’t made for a cursed world, it is entirely natural that on some level we long for a place that is somehow more, or better, than the one we inhabit. Likewise, since we weren’t created so sin and death could dominate our lives, it is entirely natural that on some level we long to be somehow more, or better, than who we are. Even if we don’t have a clear idea of what exactly we really want, we still long for a vague something beyond our present existence.

We intuitively sense that something is off about both ourselves and our world, and this leaves us wanting a world and selves that are different from the world and selves we know. In the beginning, we were made for more, and now our existence isn’t quite right. Isekai appeals to this nebulous desire for something better that stems from our latent awareness of the Fall. Isekai stories give more concrete form to the desire to be different than who and what we are, and to live in a reality that isn’t entirely like ours. We may not want to live in the setting of every isekai story, but even grimdark isekai is still isekai, and thus shares the inherent appeal of the idea of other worlds.

Ecclesiastes is again relevant at this point. Perhaps the most hopeful part the book’s message is unstated. As noted above, Ecclesiastes keeps emphasizing how everything “under the sun” is terrible. This raises a question: Is “under the sun” all there is? And here we find the implicit note of hope: the one thing mentioned in Ecclesiastes that isn’t “under the sun” is God. Throughout the Bible, God is consistently depicted as up above. So when Ecclesiastes mentions God, this gloomy book is hinting that there is more to reality than just our world “under the sun.” There might be a chance to escape the utter vanity of this life, if we seek somewhere–and more importantly, Someone–outside and beyond the world we know.

“Now let me be clear,” God is an almighty spirit unbound by the constraints of space and time. Thus, the Bible’s references to God dwelling in the heavens are obviously metaphorical and do not affirm some sort of literal spatial relationship between God and any celestial bodies or astronomical coordinates. That said, the Bible regularly pictures God as being in heaven, and if we follow the logic of that metaphor, then God is not “under the sun.” This is supported by one of the titles repeatedly ascribed to God throughout the scriptures (most often in the Psalms and the book of Daniel): “the Most High.” Again, this superlative is metaphorical, not a literal claim about physical altitude, but to be “the Most High,” God is, in a conceptual sense, above everything else — the sun included.

The core premise of isekai stories is the idea that other worlds exist and that it’s possible to pass between them. Since we already desire something more, better, different than our present existence, isekai has a natural appeal. What distinguishes isekai from other fantasy / sci-fi stories is how directly it addresses this innate post-Fall desire for a different world. Non-isekai stories offer the possibility implicitly, not unlike Ecclesiastes: They ask us to imagine a reality different from our lived experience, but don’t necessarily give any indication that we can do more than imagine. Contrariwise, isekai takes as its explicit premise the idea that a person just like us, from the very world in which you and I live, can somehow go to a different world, and there experience significant personal changes of some kind.

All fantasy / sci-fi stories at least touch on the notion of a world unlike ours. Even if their setting is very much based on our world, by their very nature they include phenomena never seen here. Arthur C. Clarke famously captured the overlap between sorcery and science: “Any sufficiently advanced technology is indistinguishable from magic.” All fantasy / sci-fi stories occur in a world where mechanical or supernatural forces beyond our experience or comprehension offer new possibilities. Isekai stories not only show us such worlds, they depict these worlds as existing in addition to (rather than instead of) our own, and as being possible for us to visit.

All of this ultimately brings us to the New Testament’s teachings about hope and resurrection and heaven. I think the OP was correct to see a connection between the appeal of isekai and the Christian hope of heaven. But heaven is only the fulfillment of our longing, not the origin of it. The Bible’s depiction of the Fall and its consequences explains better why we would find the idea of heaven, and isekai, appealing in the first place. We wouldn’t need heaven—or isekai—if we were perfectly satisfied with this world. But we aren’t satisfied, and the Bible’s account of the Fall and its effects explains why we find our present state dissatisfying. And so, reading isekai stories is really about hope for something beyond the reality we know. We feel rightly disappointed with our lives and with this world. We desire something else, and isekai supplies our imagination with more concrete ideas about other worlds.

For now, heaven is an incomprehensible wonderfulness. We know almost nothing about heaven, after all. Given how light on specifics the Bible is, even the most devout Christian is still limited to an amorphous notion of hope. But isekai stories are something I can wrap my mind around. The heroism, the adventure, the romance, the supernatural creatures—all of it speaks to my desire to be more, to experience more. The worlds I can imagine through isekai help strengthen my longing for the even better world I can’t yet imagine. Isekai stories help bridge the gap between the unsatisfactory reality I live with and the heavenly realm so glorious that human language can’t describe it. While we can’t really imagine heaven, isekai at least helps us envision something beyond our lives under the sun. Isekai cannot truly satiate our desire our desire to go somewhere different and be something different (that’s what heaven is for), but it does help us explore and understand our sense of longing.

People can enjoy isekai stories regardless of how much they accept or know anything about Christianity, which makes sense if our desire for an existence that is more, better, different than what we know far predates even Christianity. Isekai has not “taken the place of traditional religion as a promise that our suffering will be worthwhile” in a chronological or causal sense (e.g., religion held sway, and it declined, and that decline contributed to the popularity of isekai as a substitute). I believe it is more accurate to see isekai and the Bible’s teaching on heaven as parallel responses to the Fall. We can choose either or both, but they aren’t in competition. Isekai can be an expression of hope and longing both for those who believe in heaven as a religious doctrine, and also for people in places (e.g., Japan) where Christianity’s impact is minimal.

“In the beginning,” God intended for us to be better and to live in a better world, but sin broke the world and broke us, and now we’re all coping with this disappointing life under the sun and desiring something more. Thankfully, God promises that this world and our present condition are not final. He encourages us to hope for a world and a self that is perfect. We don’t know what that will be like, but isekai grants our imaginations a glimpse of possibilities beyond this world. Depending on isekai alone for hope, apart from Jesus, is not unlike eating a ton of junk food before supper and being unable to enjoy the real meal, but isekai can also be an hors d’oeuvre that whets our appetite for the heavenly banquet to come. To me, reading and watching isekai stories is an act of hope, helping me endure this present world by reminding me that I really do have hope of living in another world as a perfected version of myself.

#Anime #Manga #Light Novels #Christianity #Isekai #Religion #Japan #Heaven #Hope #Articles #Author: JeskaiAngel

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witchwood-inn · 4 years

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Deity beyond human depiction

I wanted to write a post about my own personal beliefs and understanding of deity/ polytheism and perhaps give a new perspective on how to view them. Everything I say here is my own opinion and it’s totally ok if you disagree! I just want to get this perspective out there and please feel free to add your thoughts or opinions.

My reasoning for writing this post is due to the common depictions of deity by many pagans that they are human in appearance, have human personalities/ morals or can be identified simply by their human form. I have seen time and time again new pagans seeing a humanoid deity in meditation or dreams and asking who it might be, without any further symbolism or information. Or people treating their gods like close friends or like a person in the room with them. (I’ve seen someone claiming they caught Loki jamming out to Harry Styles... ??? yep) Now I know that deities have been depicted as human-like throughout the ages and have legends and lore all about them and that’s fine! They are useful and important because it gives us humans a way to connect with them. We feel closer to something that resembles us and helps us understand them better but I feel like the real meaning behind deity can get lost by their human depictions. Although I do fully believe that everyone experiences deity differently and the above examples might be acceptable to some people, I wish to offer a different concept that might appeal to you.

Deity are the spiritual essence of the physical world. They are energy with consciousness. They are formless in essence but can shift their appearance to suit individual needs. They are always present within their associations.

Personally I don’t believe that the gods are living in their own realm having chats with each other and drinking wine while we aren’t interacting with them. I believe that what deity is beyond human interaction is impossible to know because it’s so beyond our comprehension. Deities are conscious and sentient but not in the same way humans are. We put very human ideas onto something that is completely beyond us. Although a deity can come to us during meditation in a human form and speak to us like they are human too, that is likely a fabrication they create for us. It’s way easier for them to interact with us this way though that doesn’t mean all deity do this either. Some deity test you by being vague, by showing up as animals or other symbolism. These things are not separate from their human form, they are one in the same. Just an energy shifting it’s appearance. Deity don’t always make things easy for us or perhaps humans struggle to receive clear messages so they have to try other methods (Showing signs, giving you intuitive messages etc) for whatever the reason may be, we may never know.

Sometimes I believe we get too caught up in these depictions though. We might end up spending more time at our altars and giving offerings to a statue or photograph of our deities instead of going out and being with them physically. Sometimes I think we don’t realize this. Now there’s nothing wrong with doing this at all and of course I do it too. I know that sometimes this is all we can manage in our busy lives! Our altars are spaces we can peacefully practice our spirituality without interference, but I also believe it’s important to go out and be in the actual presence of our deities within our world. (If we are physically able to and if life allows it) What does this look like?

If you worship Brigid, Goddess of Fire, Spring, Poetry, Smithcraft and healing: Spend more time outdoors during spring and notice the subtle changes as the earth begins to warm. Watch the plant life return and appreciate the season. Brigid’s essence is within the warming of the land. Taking up poetry or smith crafting as a hobby is also a great way to honor to her too! Brigid’s essence is within your creativity and talent and by doing the act you are spending time with her.

Why give an offering to Gaia at your altar by lighting a candle instead of growing plants in your garden to help her thrive like she has always intended? or spending time with her in your local park?

I like to believe that deity inhabit every single thing around us within nature and within general living. I truly believe that Goddess Selene is within the moon that looks down at us at night, whether we pay any attention to her or not. When I look at the moon I am looking at Selene directly. She is the spiritual essence of the moon itself. Not to mention our earth mother Gaia is an energy that is constantly present no matter that. She gives us a home and she feeds us. She gives us everything that we need to live, to survive. But not only physical things in nature contains the essence of deity, sometimes they are present within emotions or actions! The energy of Aphrodite is within acts of love, passion and sex. Every time you kiss someone you truly love, her essence is within you. The essence of the Morrigan is within every crow, within every death and within battle for justice. I believe the earth is filled to the brim with many interacting energies that work in harmony with one another. These energies are the deities at work creating our world and allowing us all to live and feel and act. They are beyond us and we may never understand them fully but don’t forget about what they truly are... they are not in some spiritual realm that we do not have access to, that we have to reach some sort of enlightenment or spiritual awakening to reach... they are with us every day, in little ways and in huge ways. They are not separate from us, they are not another person in the room, they are within us and all around us.

#pagan #paganism #deity #god #goddess #hellenism #celtic polytheism #gaelpol #norse polytheism #witch #witchcraft

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ladylynse · 4 years

Text

Part 9 [FF | AO3] of Whirlwind: Jake should be used to ominous predictions by now. Randy should know better than to blindly follow McFist. Adrien should think twice before sneaking away. And Danny should’ve expected something like this when he got that phone call.

Previous | Timeline Post

-|-

7:29 PM

This Rotwood fellow wasn’t like Viceroy. McFist figured out that much from the walk back to the gala. Much of the crowd had dispersed now—he and Marci hadn’t been the only ones to seek out sustenance—and the emergency vehicles were gone, barring the EMTs who’d been stationed at the event anyway. Still, he could see one or two reporters hanging around, doing a few interviews with those left behind, and there were plenty of curiosity seekers hoping for a glimpse of the dragon display.

McFist was really getting the impression that Rotwood was one of those people, especially when he not-so-subtly brought up the dragon.

But that was fine.

It gave McFist the perfect opportunity to bring up this town’s Ninja. They’d apparently missed the first sighting—Marci’s window shopping had turned into very real purchases that she’d insisted on dropping off in their hotel room—and McFist had kept his eyes peeled ever since. This Ninja’s abilities and mannerisms were so like the one back in Norrisville, he wouldn’t be surprised to learn that this one was a descendent of the Norisu Nine.

Viceroy hadn’t turned anything up on that front, though, and McFist would rather he put more time towards building that dragon WND anyway.

“The dragon wheeled off in that direction,” McFist said with a vague gesture towards a pair of tall buildings a few blocks over, “and the area was thoroughly searched. Not by me, of course. Marci and I stayed around here to see if we could spot the Ninja coming back.”

Rotwood paused, and McFist stopped and turned to face him. “Ninja?”

“A Ninja fought off the dragon.”

“A Ninja,” Rotwood repeated. “Not another dragon?”

Another dragon would’ve been something to see, but McFist was more interested in the fact that Rotwood sounded disappointed that it hadn’t been another dragon. “You think there’s another dragon?” he asked instead.

Rotwood sniffed. “Dragons are real. What you saw here tonight— It was a real dragon. It was not some show.”

McFist let out a humming noise and hoped Rotwood would take it either noncommittally or as agreement. Dragons were real, eh? That made things much easier for him. Viceroy’s Robo-Dragon—

“They are,” Rotwood hissed to him. Clearly, he’d taken the sound to mean that McFist was humouring him. “The people here, they are blind to the magical world! They do not know how to look for it! They do not even believe magic is real! They think it is all merely parlour tricks!”

The man was passionate. McFist could work with this. “I know magic is real,” he said. “I know a sorcerer.”

Rotwood narrowed his eyes. “You are just humouring me.”

McFist shook his head. “Look up the stories about Norrisville. I know the real reason behind all those strange happenings—and how much of a menace the supposed town hero is. But keep that just between us, if you don’t mind.” Viceroy might not approve, but McFist didn’t see any reason not to be honest right now. There wasn’t anyone Rotwood could tell the truth to who would both believe him and be capable of ruining McFist’s efforts to capture the Norrisville Ninja.

Rotwood cocked his head and considered McFist for a moment. “This supposed town hero. You wish to show the rest of the town what they truly are?”

McFist smiled. This was going better than he’d hoped. “If I can just capture him, I’ll be able to let everyone know the truth.”

“I have a similar goal,” Rotwood said slowly. “The people here, they are not as open-minded as you. They do not believe me when I tell them about all the magical creatures.” He hesitated, and when McFist let the silence stretch, Rotwood continued, “I know all manner of tricks when it comes to dealing with magical creatures. I could perhaps assist you with your problem if you help me with mine.”

“The hero in Norrisville is a Ninja, not necessarily a magical creature,” McFist said, though in truth he still wasn’t completely sure what the Ninja was. Viceroy was convinced he was a high school student, but that still didn’t explain the legend of the Ninja throughout the history of Norrisville, and the one time he’d tried to ask the Sorcerer for details, it had gone poorly. To put it mildly.

McFist hadn’t dared ask again.

“I have books. I can help with magic. I can craft traps. If you wish to capture this Ninja of Norrisville, I can help you.”

“I want to capture that Ninja,” McFist agreed, “and I want to know more about the one that came here. Tell you what, Hans—can I call you Hans?—you help me with my little Ninja problem, and I’ll help fund your research into getting solid proof that there are magical creatures in this city, too.”

Rotwood grinned as if he hadn’t been the one to follow exactly where McFist had wanted to lead him. As if the reverse were true instead. Perhaps it was, if they’d both had the same idea. Either way, Rotwood stuck out his hand. “You have a deal.”

-|-

7:30 PM

Every step was a fight, an exhaustive battle she was slowly losing. Susan stumbled to a sidewalk bench and sat down, hunching over and trying to catch her breath. She couldn’t remember when she’d grasped her necklace again, but it was cutting into her hand and she couldn’t force her fingers to release it.

She could feel magic raging within her, wanting release. It hummed in her blood, pushing against its confines, trying to sweep over her in a rush of a dragon’s fire and change skin to scales. It was a form she’d never thought she’d hold. It was…it was a form she still shouldn’t hold. It was supposed to be locked away, bound too tightly to ever be released. She’d forced the lock open, and now it wouldn’t stay closed, mixing with the other magic and roiling—

She had traded too much for its freedom, and she hadn’t paid the full price yet.

Susan blinked. The world sharpened, becoming more bright and vivid and detailed. Eyes of the Dragon. She jolted to her feet, looking for somewhere to hide. Fighting off the transformation was so tiring. Too tiring. She was beginning to give ground even when she didn’t want to, and whatever changed next might not be so innocuous.

She needed help, but she had to stay as far away from the person who should help her as possible.

She couldn’t involve the American Dragon.

She couldn’t involve any of her family.

People might not call them superheroes, not when magic and responsibility sang in harmony in their blood in a melody interwoven with a counterpoint of inevitability and expectations, but she wasn’t sure she’d be able to bite her tongue if Hawk Moth asked her about them. And if she went to them or they came to her, he would ask. She knew he would. She could feel his curiosity even now, far away from him as she must surely be.

As for the other condition of their bargain, she wasn’t yet sure who she’d doomed. She didn’t know who Chat Noir was, didn’t know anything about his ring, but she knew that knowledge would come. Right now, it was just out of her reach. If she stretched for it, she’d give in, and she couldn’t risk that. It would condemn too many people, and she doubted this Chat Noir deserved it any more than her son did.

Why had she agreed?

Why had she let the sudden consuming need to realize her childhood dream overshadow the acceptance she’d acquired long ago?

It would be so much harder to lose it now that she knew exactly what she’d have to give up. Having had a taste of what could have been—should have been—reality would become much more bitter. No amount of magical knowledge or tiny tricks of borrowed magic would satisfy her now. She might not even be able to smile when one of her elven staff cast a quiet spell to keep the flies from the food when their venue was outdoors, to keep the drinks cool while the air was warm, to—

Susan sobbed.

She…she didn’t want to give it up.

Why couldn’t she decide to just give it up when it would mean saving her family? Saving her friends?

She slipped into the tight space between buildings, trying not to gag as her overly-sensitive noise picked up the smell of rot, fetid water, dried blood—

No. She mustn’t think about all that. Her stomach was already rolling at the thought, and she couldn’t be sure there wouldn’t be fire within her, ready to burn, ready to cleanse.

She tried to scrape her hand over the rough brick of the wall beside her. A minor abrasion, that’s all she wanted, something to bring her back to reality without harming her later—

Claws dug into crumbling mortar instead, scales neatly protecting her from even minimal harm, and she tucked her left hand to her body. Her right was still soft, human flesh, its grasping fingers wrapped tightly around her necklace that pulsed with power even now.

She wasn’t winning.

Running away wouldn’t work.

She needed to confront what was inside of her. What had been released. She wasn’t in nearly as much control as she pretended, and that became clearer the longer she stayed away. She had to find the one who had done this to her and find out how he had done it to her.

It was easier to ignore him when the magic hadn’t consumed her, when she wasn’t transformed, but she was already slipping, and—

And she’d never find him if she didn’t go back.

If she didn’t risk running into her son.

If she didn’t risk her family’s secret.

Another wave of magic coursed through her, and she tentatively flexed her wings, relishing how good it felt to stretch them. How proper. How right.

She couldn’t fight this forever.

Susan took a slow, deep breath, held it for a moment, and then breathed out fire as she allowed herself to transform again.

-|-

7:31 PM

Danny had had no luck in his search and had joined them on the ground, collecting his cell phone from Randy and passing Haley the spare Fenton Phone. Jake grimaced, but he wouldn’t be able to get a new phone for Randy till this was over. For now, the Fenton Phones were going to have to be their main source of communication between each other.

Fu and Gramps kept checking in—mostly Fu, who was still better with all the technology than G—but they weren’t coming up with anything, either. Haley, for all that she’d insisted she wanted to help, was not. Jake was beginning to wonder why he’d ever asked for her to come in the first place. Or why he’d agreed to let her work directly with him instead of staying with Gramps.

The fact that Trixie and Spud had phoned him to say Rotwood had gotten away from them hadn’t improved Jake’s mood. It was Rotwood. And Trixie and Spud were good, which meant that it had been that much more unlikely that Rotwood would have succeeded in giving them the slip, and Jake had been counting on the fact that he wouldn’t. Sure, Trixie and Spud could’ve had an off night, and Jake really couldn’t blame them, especially considering how often they helped him out, but did it have to be tonight? Now? Did it have to be this crisis that was hanging over his head when Rotwood finally got the better of them? Couldn’t it have just been trolls in the sewers or something?

His mood might have improved if Chat Noir—Nino, as he’d told them to call him—had been able to give them a description of Hawk Moth, but apparently that guy also ran around in a mask.

“We don’t usually fight him in person,” cat boy had explained. “It’s mostly just the people he akumatizes—like your mother—and the monsters they create. He fights smart. He won’t face us directly unless he’s confident. Even before realizing I was here, he’d have holed up somewhere. He wouldn’t expose himself when he doesn’t know what he’s up against.”

“So that’s why she was just playing with me earlier?” Randy asked, giving a sidelong look at Haley. “You think this was his strategy, not hers?”

His response was a helpless shrug. “Hawk Moth couldn’t have known that I would be here. Like I said before, he must be looking for something or he wouldn’t be doing any of this.”

“Great,” Jake said flatly. “So chances are he’s actually after something I’m supposed to guard.” He glanced at Danny. “Which means everything I told you was right, except that Nino here isn’t the one behind it. Or working with the evil guy.” He grimaced, then added, “Sorry about all that.”

“I get it.” The response wasn’t forgiveness, not yet. Not that Jake actually expected that. “People don’t always realize that destruction can be a good thing.” Then, “If you’re right about Hawk Moth looking for something that you have, you can’t fight her.”

“What?” That was Haley. “But she’s our mom! We have to save her!”

“It’s not just about saving her. You also need to protect whatever you’re supposed to be protecting. The rest of us can save her for you.”

“Not that you don’t raise a good point,” Danny said slowly, “but, uh, Susan would already know about all of that stuff. They’re not going to lose anything by fighting her that they haven’t already lost. And, I mean, if it’s that bad, then she could be back at the shop right now stealing whatever Hawk Moth wants.”

“He doesn’t mind control people. I mean, he can give people the power to do that to other people, but the people who are akumatized aren’t under his total control. He can’t use their knowledge against them and make them do things they don’t want to do. He can just…. He can twist their thinking, make them see justice or vengeance in their wrong actions, but he doesn’t take away their free will. That’s why he can hurt them if they try to stray from their deal. He’ll find a way to force their hand or he’ll take away their power.”

“So he can’t just compel them to do something?” Jake asked. That was better. That was a lot better, actually. His mom wouldn’t—

“No, but he could convince them to do something they’d never ordinarily do. If he got me, I’d be willing to give up my Miraculous then and there. Your sister would use you as bait without blinking an eye. Your friend would be willing to kill you to harvest your energy in order to go back in time. Your—”

Or not.

“Okay, okay, I get it.” Jake held up his hands. “I just….” He let out another groan as he dropped his hands. “So we can’t find Hawk Moth, we can’t find Mom, and she might sneak back and give him everything he wants and expose what we are in the process.”

“That might already have happened.”

Jake jumped and spun, looking for the voice he didn’t recognize. Nino smiled weakly and pointed at his shoulder—or, more specifically, at the tiny cat-like creature poking its head out from his hood by his chin. “Nooroo would know that something was different, and if Hawk Moth knew enough to ask, Nooroo would answer.”

“That’s Plagg,” Danny said in a stage whisper, and Jake just tried to take a slow breath to calm his racing heart. Hadn’t he had enough surprises for one day? He wasn’t even sure what it was. Some kind of fey?

Whatever. That didn’t matter right now, as long as Jake was careful not to offend Plagg. “So you’re telling me that you think Hawk Moth already knows that we’re dragons.”

“He might not know you’re dragons, but he would know you’re magical. If he asked. Which he probably did. If he didn’t know how to control Nooroo, we’d have rescued him already.”

This day was not getting better.

Jake pulled out his phone and started texting Fu. “I think Marty lost the last poker match to Fu, so he can guard the shop. I know G’ll already have people watching it—they never leave it unattended—but we should have someone in the back if this is as big a risk as you say.”

Haley poked him in the side. He stopped texting long enough to glare at her before he took in the look on her face, and he let his expression soften. “What?”

“If you think Mom might betray us, even if she doesn’t mean to, I should get Sun to help, too. She must have seen the news. She’ll know something’s going on anyway.”

“Right. I forgot about her. Thanks.” Haley had a cell phone, but it was only for emergencies, so it was just the pay-as-you-go sort. He finished sending the message to Fu and then handed her his phone. “Use mine to call her.”

Haley nodded her thanks and walked a short distance away from the buzz of their conversation to make her call. Jake turned back to the others. “We need a plan.”

“When do you ever plan anything?” Danny asked. “I mean, even when you do, when it does it work?”

“Not as often as I’d like,” Jake acknowledged, which was a code for practically never, but he didn’t want to tell that to Randy and Nino, in case they had better luck than he ever did. “But, c’mon, you’ve gotta admit we can’t go into this blind.”

“We aren’t going into it blind,” Randy said. “Nino’s told us a lot, and we already know we need the necklace. We just need to find your mom first.”

“It’s not just a matter of needing her necklace,” Nino interjected. “It’s getting it, too. Jake’s right. We need a plan. She’s smart, and she’ll do everything she can to protect it. And…and we need to catch the akuma before it multiplies.”

“Before it what now?”

“If we don’t catch it, if I can’t get it back to Ladybug to purify it, then it’ll multiply and infect other people. And then you’ll have a city full of people who can turn into dragons, all searching for whatever you’re trying to protect.”

Jake stared at him. “You’re kidding. Please tell me you’re kidding.”

Nino shook his head. “When we defeated the Critic,” he said, gesturing to Randy, “and the akuma was released, I chased after it to try to catch it. That’s when you found me.”

“I hate where this is going,” Jake muttered. “You didn’t catch it. I know you didn’t catch it. So you’re telling me that one would’ve multiplied, too? We’re gonna wind up with a whole bunch of people turning into this critic?”

“No,” Nino said, and some of Jake’s panic evaporated. Some. Not enough. “Hawk Moth only ever sends out one akuma at a time. He would have recalled that one before he akumatized your mother.”

Small mercies.

“How are you going to get the akuma back to Paris without it getting away?” Danny asked, and Jake almost wished he hadn’t. Why did he have to think about that?

“I don’t know,” Nino admitted, “but the only other way to make sure it doesn’t multiply is to purify it, and I can’t. Ladybug, my partner— She’s the one with that power, not me.”

Randy glanced at Jake. “If you have a shop full of magic stuff, would you have something he could use? To contain it or purify it or something?”

“Maybe? I don’t even know. I’ll have to talk to Gramps when Haley’s done. I haven’t exactly memorized our inventory. We don’t sell the magic stuff. It’s an electronics shop.”

“Oooh. So that’s why you didn’t feel bad about trashing my phone.”

“I’ll replace it,” Jake insisted. “I swear. I just…. After. Once we’ve dealt with this and I have time to think.”

“You’d have to be confident that whatever you gave me to use would work,” Nino said. “The akuma isn’t going to be slow. I’ll probably only have the one chance to catch it.”

Jake groaned. “Can’t you just destroy it? You have the power of destruction, don’t you?”

“Hitting it with Cataclysm would only disperse the corrupted magic,” Plagg said. “It won’t get rid of it.”

Danny looked at Randy. “You said you deal with something similar, right?”

“Stanking,” Randy said, “but the stank just returns to the Sorcerer when I release it. I don’t have to do anything to it. I don’t think I could even if I wanted to. Unless you have some kind of magical air purifier?”

He’d directed this last question to Jake, and Jake rolled his eyes. “What do you think?”

“I think it would be super bruce if you did and I’d want to borrow it.” He paused. “Can I borrow it?”

“I don’t think that exists.”

“But you could ask around, right? Since you broke my phone ‘n’ all. That was a shoob move. You kinda owe me.”

“Fine, okay, I will, later. Right now, we need to—” Jake broke off when he saw Randy stiffen. “What?”

“McFist is back,” Randy said, ducking behind Nino. “He’s gonna wonder if he sees me here.”

“Friend of yours?” Danny asked.

“Try enemy set on destroying me.”

“And he knows you personally? As Randy?”

“Well, he probably wouldn’t remember my name, but you never know. And he’ll know I’m from Norrisville even if he doesn’t know who I am. I’m wearing too much of his stuff.”

“You— what?” spluttered Danny. “Why?”

“Is he a fashion designer?” Nino asked, as if that were remotely relevant. “I’ve never heard of him.”

Like any of them could name a whole bunch of fashion designers. Jake couldn’t even remember who was supposed to be putting on this show, and he’d wound up trashing the place. Then again, maybe Nino had a point. This McFist might’ve come for the show, to check out the competition. Still, point or not, it wasn’t exactly relevant to their present situation.

“It’s not really fashion,” Randy said. “And it’s comfortable. But it’s more like… Merchandise, I guess. McMerch, to be specific. But he sells a lot of candy and stuff, too. McSquiddles are the cheese.”

“Cheese?” Plagg perked up, and Nino shushed him.

“You buy stuff from your enemy?” Danny asked incredulously. “Even though he’s trying to destroy you? Why the heck would you support him like that?”

“Because it’s comfy. And super bruce. He makes a lot of good stuff.”

“You’re crazy,” Jake said, and Danny nodded his emphatic agreement.

Randy shrugged. “Point is, he’ll wonder if he sees me. Especially if he saw me earlier as the Ninja.”

Jake sighed and turned to get a good look at this McFist, thinking he was probably the same man he’d overheard on the phone earlier. And then he blinked. “Aw, man.”

“What?” Danny asked, and then he looked, too. “Oh, crud.”

“Things are not going to stop getting worse for us,” Jake muttered, motioning for them all to join Haley just inside the mouth of the alley. To Nino and Randy, he said, “McFist is talking to Rotwood. Someone who wants to expose me as a dragon to the nonmagical world. Assuming anyone still doesn’t believe in dragons after Mom showed up. Because that’s another thing we have to figure out, by the way. How to make this look like the whole thing was a hoax. I can’t have it getting out that magic exists—really exists—to the general public. The Dragon Council would have my hide.”

“Hawk Moth attacks Paris all the time now,” Nino offered. “That will probably convince them that this dragon isn’t anything more than that.”

“Not with Rotwood around.”

“It might be a start, though,” Danny pointed out. “We’ll figure out the rest of that as we go. I’m good at thinking on my feet. Besides, at the rate we’re going, we’re not gonna have a fully formed plan anyway.”

Jake didn’t argue, even though he wanted to, because he knew Danny was right.

Improvising it was, then.

-|-

7:32 PM

Gabriel felt the moment Nooroo’s magic flared to life and took hold of Dracona again. Finally. Despite his best efforts, he hadn’t been sure he’d ever get through to her. Whatever sort of innate magic she had, it had fought against Nooroo’s. He still wasn’t sure if he’d won the fight or if she’d thrown it, but she was back, and he needed to speak with her.

He glanced across the room to Nathalie, catching her eye before giving a discreet nod. The others in the meeting room didn’t notice, too busy arguing about one thing or another. He’d barely been in this meeting for ten minutes, finally acquiescing to put in an appearance and giving his excuses for tardiness, and he’d regretted coming the moment he’d stepped into the room. He didn’t have time to deal with these children, squabbling over fault and insurance and deadlines and payments and alternate venues and vendors. Nathalie could handle this on his behalf; she’d already given him as much on Susan Long as he suspected she’d be able to find on such short notice, and he didn’t mind pulling her off of that to deal with this fully, at least now that Dracona was back.

Nathalie approached him and stood discretely at his side. “Sir,” she said, pitching her voice just loudly enough to be overheard by his neighbours despite the argument taking place, “I’m afraid your son is in urgent need of your attention.”

The nearest branches of the argument broke off, though those sitting farther away continued to talk over each other, oblivious.

“It appears he was inside when the fire began,” Nathalie added.

“Smoke inhalation?” the man seated on Gabriel’s right guessed, even as the one on his left snorted.

“Took them a damned long time to realize who he was and track you down. Go. Your son can’t wait for this mess to be over.”

“Thank you for your understanding,” Gabriel said smoothly as he rose to his feet. His glance at Nathalie’s tablet was perfunctory. The others would believe it provided him with all the information he needed, such as a brief idea of what had happened and where his son was, leaving him to find out the details when he arrived by Adrien’s side, and it would forestall any more questions they might try to throw at him or Nathalie right now. “Please make my apologies to the others. Nathalie will be my proxy; she’s more than qualified when it comes to handling company matters, and I trust her decisions completely.”

The truth was, Gabriel had no idea where Adrien was, but the boy should be in his room. It wasn’t Gabriel’s job to keep track of him; that fell to his security guard and, of course, Nathalie, though he knew she’d been juggling other jobs in the meantime. Whatever the case, Adrien was surely safe or he would have been alerted.

Assured in that knowledge, Gabriel put Adrien out of his mind and hastened back to his private suite without even pausing to knock on Adrien’s door.

Nooroo slipped out of his interior breast pocket the moment he’d locked the door behind him. “Master, we shouldn’t—”

He didn’t have time to listen to Nooroo’s worries. “Dark wings rise, Nooroo.”

The magic rushed back over him, consciousness of Dracona’s surroundings settling into the familiar place where it should be. She was flying high, winging above the skyscrapers. For all that she took too many slow, gliding turns, she was coming back, just as he’d hoped she would. “Dracona,” he said, “are you ready to uphold your end of our bargain?”

“I don’t want this anymore.”

There was desperation in her voice. She perhaps attempted to veil it, but if so, she did a poor job. She wasn’t only desperate to break this bargain; she was still desperate to keep it. Fighting with herself. No doubt, whatever innate magic she had that so unnerved Nooroo wasn’t strong enough to shut him out forever. Not when she still so longed for what she’d been given.

He could recall the akuma now, of course. Whatever Nooroo thought, it was that simple. He could simply let her transform back and fall from the sky. There was no Ladybug to set things right, and he’d find her family when they learned of what happened.

He didn’t like things to be so messy, though.

“You agreed,” he said mildly. “Surely you don’t want to break our agreement. Think of your son.”

He felt the shock jolt through her, far more effective than the pain he’d tried to send her earlier, back before she’d shut him out.

“What do you know of my son?”

The words were hissed, defensive. She hadn’t asked what he meant. She hadn’t wondered why he’d make such a threat. But what she had asked, now, that was curious. It implied that there was indeed something to know of her son. Perhaps he should not be surprised. Blood magic was blood magic, after all.

“He is a curiosity,” Gabriel hedged, and then he made a gamble. “Why don’t you tell me about him?”

Silence. Silence, but not a broken connection. He hadn’t pushed her to withdraw from him entirely again. Mulish though she was, if his growing suspicion was right, she’d tell him. She’d have to tell him or she’d lose everything. Whatever she tried to tell herself, whatever she’d tried to tell him, she wasn’t willing to give up the freedom she felt.

And it was so terribly easy for him to amplify that desire within her, the fear of losing what he’d gifted.

“He is still learning,” came her quiet answer, “but he has already bested those more fearsome than you.”

Doubt danced in her voice, and Gabriel smiled.

(see more fics | next)

#secret quartet #sq #rc9gn #adjl #miraculous ladybug #danny phantom #crossover #fanfiction #sq fanfiction #my writing #ladylynse #every once in a while I update a fic twice in a row....#snippets #crossover snippet #dp snippet #adjl snippet #ml snippet #rc9gn snippet

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celestialholz · 4 years

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Inspired by your recently posted Continuum story and if you still do the event: It ended with Q thinking, he will find out about the others secrets. So what if, in a positive turn of events, he does find them out and can blackmail himself to the top of the proverbial food chain of the Qs. Now he can do whatever he wants without any stupid council telling him no. Picard is torn between feeling glad for Q or unsure about one of the most morally gray beings he knows gaining absolute power.

Oh, excellent. Love a good follow-up! ^_^ Allow me to reward this wonderful ask with something rather different and a little longer than usual, though it may have to avoid our positivity tag just this once…

(Related to this, for context: https://celestialwarzone.tumblr.com/post/615422269797384192/the-continuum-is-not-entirely-sure-what-to-think)

Got any fun, fluffy or just Soft™ headcanons you’d like as fics for our positivity event, friends, despite this delightfully dark diversion? My inbox is open!

Seven o’clock creeps up on Jean-Luc Picard as though through treacle, slow, heavy and plodding; the problem with deep space, he’s been musing since morning, is that everything is so desperately far away, and inevitably, there are days where little of merit can be accomplished until they’re where they ought to be. With a sigh of something suspiciously like relief, he heads from the ready room and his sixth tea of the day to meet his First, deeply glad to leave the trail of electronic paperwork behind.

“Long day, sir?” Riker asks conversationally, though the question is rather rhetorical; he imagines the weariness will be etched into his features, plain for all to witness. Inactivity has never really suited him for any length of time, and this is their second day in a row of simply ‘boldly going’.

“At least we’re only several hours away from Deep Space Eleven,” he replies simply, expression quirking into reassurance. “Can’t imagine you’re faring any better.”

Riker’s lips twist into a warm grin. “Well, at least holodeck two’s been mostly free. You’re relieved, Captain.”

“Oh, you have no idea,” comes the dry riposte, the grateful smile. “Safe travels, Number One.”

“Is that an order, sir? I could really go for a battle fleet right about now.”

Amusement creeps into a smirk, head shaking.

“Yes,” he answers wryly as the turbolift doors slide shut. “Deck nine, officer’s quarters.”

Safe from prying eyes, Picard lets out a lengthy sigh; he’d always been more tolerant of steadiness before Q’s continued presence in his personal life, acknowledging it as something to merely accept as a drawback to the job he adored, but forty-nine entire hours of tedium had left him almost wishing he could snap them to their destination himself.

Well, at least he could finally sink his teeth into some delightful diplomacy tomorrow - and in the meantime, perhaps the god could whisk them off somewhere wondrous, full of exploration and academic curiosities to sate… though he’d seemed uncharacteristically distracted recently, and unusually unwilling to discuss the reasons.

An ancient city, perchance, he ponders quietly as he makes his way down hallways. Interesting enough to avoid eye contact, quiet enough to speak your mind.

He smiles, keying in his code on autopilot, and as the door opens to simple, vividly white nothingness, all hope of solving the enigma easily fades into the ether of his quarters. It’s uncomfortably familiar, and he’d rather thought they’d moved past such things…

“Q?” He questions softly, stepping in with a series of rapid blinks, beginning to simply wander for lack of a clear path. “Q, why on earth are we back here?”

“Earth, dear? Oh, hardly.”

His brow creases as he finds him, and the prickles race higher up his spine; it’s almost identical, down to his lover’s white robes, the metaphorical distance between them painfully obvious.

To hell with this, he thinks furiously, wasting no time in closing the symbolic gap; there aren’t realms between them now, simply things not yet disclosed, and his hand claims his lover’s in silent acknowledgement.

“What is this, Q?” He urges, grey gaze earnest. “Are you alright?”

Grasped fingers tremble then tighten, free hand flung out to the void.

“You see this, Jean-Luc? It’s mine.”

Something distinctly unpleasant splinters through the captain’s very being. “Yours?”

“Yes.”

“I don’t -” Picard swallows, almost dreading the response. “What does that mean, mon dieu?”

“Oh, whatever I feel like, really,” Q answers cryptically, unnervingly blank for a being usually so theatrical. “What do you think it should mean, mon capitaine - this, perhaps?”

He clicks sharply, and the void shifts instantly to space, pure black and twinkling.

“Or even this.”

Another snap sends them into chaos, swirls of brightly coloured gas spiralling madly around them, and every inch the commanding officer, Picard abandons his astonishment, frantically clasping his other hand in a pointless effort to cease his whims.

“Q!” He states firmly. “That’s enough!”

Disturbingly neutral eyes blaze with the scope of the universe; fire and stoicism, the ultimate parallel. “I don’t need to click, Jean-Luc.”

I know you don’t, but what else am I supposed to - he silences his inner desperation, focuses down.

“Tell me what’s wrong, dear,” he demands gently. “Please.”

Kindness is all it takes to strip down shields, both clasped hands squeezed almost to the point of pain as a shadow steals over omniscient vision.

“They threatened you.” His voice trembles. “Just before Utirion, they were keeping something secret…”

They’re back to the starkness of white in a blink, though the captain barely notices, too locked to those wondrous eyes, the unfolding, pained narrative.

“I found out, Jean-Luc. Oh, they can misdirect all they like, of course, but the right application of blackmail works wonders.” The faintest of smiles half-raises a lip. “And my son can’t lie to save his own omnipotence. It was written all over his vaguely ionised being.”

“Threatened me?” Picard repeats, desperate for full clarity, and the darkness only seeps further into an anguished deity.

“Oh, only for a moment.” He sets, rigid, livid. “More than long enough.”

An understanding shivers between them for a protracted moment.

“So, you -”

“Made sure it wouldn’t happen again.”

Picard curses himself for the shudder that braces across his shoulders; there was nothing to fear from this entity, he’d long since known that intimately, but that phrasing -

“How?”

A frown etches into an ancient expression for a second, distressed at the clear horror in his beloved human. “I didn’t kill them, I assure you. Oh, I was almost angry enough, but - well, I’ve learned from the best. Billions of years of acquaintance rather familiarises one with weak spots.”

Picard’s mind whirs as he slots together pieces of a bankrupt jigsaw, eyes widening.

“So this, the void, space, is truly - mon dieu -”

“Capital D,” Q expresses, brow quirking. “King of the proverbial hill, Jean-Luc. Captain of the starship Continuum.”

He glances pointedly down at his robes, and Picard balks, spontaneously letting go of hands.

“You are not God!”

His lover’s features flicker in recognition, almost entertained. “I wasn’t, then.”

Picard reels, stepping away, struggling to process the magnitude of what such a concept could mean; he’d always accepted the wealth of power that stood insurmountably between them, but one thing needles at him above all others, a nasty, clawing anguish he can barely describe before the words burst forth.

“… And you did all this for me? To keep me safe?”

Confusion claims the all-powerful entity, stare shining. “And I’ll do it over and over again, if I have to. Didn’t you know that, darling?”

A soft, strangled cry tears itself from Picard, dashing back solely to tightly embrace him.

“You can’t do that!” He protests furiously against a robed chest, even as arms encircle him fiercely. “This isn’t healthy -”

“Less of your human morality, thank you,” Q scolds quietly, eyes falling closed as he drops a kiss to his captain’s skull with a gentle shiver. “I’m reliably informed that homelessness is desperately bad for the soul, Jean-Luc.”

Tearful eyes meet his, divided almost perfectly by outrage and despair. “I’m not worth this, you fool.”

A head shakes in pure exasperation, expression almost unfathomably tender.

“Au contraire, mon capitaine,” he whispers, and they hover in an extended breath, fractured and ironically whole in perfect harmony.

“Now what?” Rises a deceptively simple question from his beloved, and the ashes of bitterness sweep across Q’s lips, crease into his face as he stares into eyes that believe he’s ultimately capable of using his absolute power for kindness.

It’s enough, he acknowledges silently. It’s always been enough, that belief; it doesn’t require further proof over time.

“Oh, now?” A finger runs up a cheek, smile warm. No regrets, Q. “An ancient city, perhaps… well, at least after you wake up.”

Picard’s gone in an instant after a tender touch to his temple, and God swallows fire.

Jean-Luc Picard has more than enough to deal with. He doesn’t need the burden of knowing the lengths a homeless, frightened entity will go for him, however many times he must.

————–

“Can’t say I’m not mildly offended. Infinite scope of time presented permanently to me, mon capitaine; I run ten minutes late in an exceedingly rare instance of miscalculation, and you fall asleep on me.”

A familiar voice permeates his consciousness, rouses him from a deliciously restful slumber; he blinks, briefly confused, and meets an amused gaze.

“I…” Since when had he ever come back to his quarters and instantly drifted off? “I was asleep?”

“The light was well and truly out, my dear,” Q assures him, eyebrow hitching. “Dull day at the office, I take it?”

He thinks of their seemingly endless trek to Deep Space Eleven and wrinkles his nose just slightly. “Rather, yes. Ought to have asked you for a lift.”

“Indeed,” Q murmurs, gaze piercing. “I’d have done it, too. I’d do anything for you, dear - do hope you know that. Capital of Tenhaglion, then? Rather delightful four millennia ago.”

He offers him a hand, and something in Picard pauses for a long moment as he meets the rich bronze of eternity, the absolute tenderness that resides there, that flashes with the most heated warmth and desperate trust.

… There’s something decidedly different about him today, he acknowledges to himself as he accepts the help, gifts him a bright smile. He’ll have to ask him about it later.

#qcard #jean-luc picard #q #writing #prompts #hello darkness my old friend <3

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aethelflaedladyofmercia · 4 years

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Of Aliens and Alpha Centauri: Space in Good Omens (1/3)

. So just yesterday, in one of the many discussions of Alpha Centauri and the practicality of our two favorite disasters running off together, @theniceandaccurategoodomensblog raised the perfectly valid question: “Why are we assuming there are no aliens?” And I said I had a lot of thoughts on the subject. This meta is the result of those thoughts and questions.

Broadly, the question of whether or not there would be aliens comes down to “what is the purpose of all that space in the Good Omens universe?” Everything we see is focused on Earth and the creation and destruction thereof, which, when you consider the scale of the whole universe, is really not that Big a story at all.

But the treatment of space is a little different depending on which version you use as your source material. If you try to combine the book and the TV show, you get some contradictions.

So I’m going to tackle each separately, starting with the book below the break, pulling together all my observations and thoughts on What does Good Omens really have to say about space?

I’m not going to do this on a strict schedule, but I have three parts planned and will post them as I find the time to write them!

(Source: I’m a huge sci-fi nut and think way too hard about everything, but I’m not any kind of expert. Other insights and comments are 10000% welcome.)

Good Omens Book

The book has, perhaps, the simplest approach to space: it’s barely mentioned.

For those unfamiliar, there is no mention of Alpha Centauri, or running away, or Crowley helping create stars/nebulae/whatever it is he made. Unless I missed one, all references to space in the book are:

The Earth is a Libra (p.17)

Crowley’s amazing drunken rant about the bird and the spaceship (p.54-57)

Adam and The Them talking about aliens and how aliens are now all about peace and harmony and being some kinda space cops “They all have this bright blue light around ‘em and go around doing good. Sort of g’lactic policemen, going round tellin’ everyone to live in universal harmony and stuff” (p. 156, part of a slightly longer discussion)

Newt meeting aliens who talk about peace and harmony while being some kinda space cops (p. 197-199)

That’s it; Crowley (then Crawly) doesn’t even ask about putting the Tree on the Moon, the line is instead “why not put it on top of a high mountain or a long way off?” (p.10).

Just because it’s simple, however, doesn’t mean we can’t learn a great deal.

Humanity has watched the stars for all of our history; they can be used to navigate, to tell time; the constellations are used to record stories; astrology attempts to make sense of the chaos of everyday life through the motions of heavenly bodies. The motions of the stars and planets has been calculated and recorded for as long as we’ve had enough knowledge of math to do that (so ancient Sumeria and Egypt, and by ancient I mean 4-5 thousand years ago), while less predictable events such as eclipses and comets have been taken as ill omens or signs of Heavenly disfavor.*

The prevailing model in the West was geocentric (Earth in the center) and contained what we call the “Heavenly Spheres”; Earth was a globe surrounded by clear layered spheres, and across each sphere one of the seven planets moved in its predictable track. (The seven planets were: The sun, the moon, Mars, Mercury, Venus, Jupiter and Saturn - a planet being defined as a “wandering heavenly body that does not follow the fixed course of all the other stars”). Beyond all these was the final sphere, containing all the stars like a painted ceiling, and all moving together, rotating around a point near Polaris, the North Star.

The stars were predictable, but mysterious, unexplainable - but they existed to serve the story of mankind because why else would they exist?

This mindset carries into Good Omens - at least the book, and probably the Radio Drama as well (I haven’t heard it in ages, but I don’t think it deviated from the major points). The universe is vast and huge and filled with “loads of buggerall” (p. 56) - Aziraphale’s comments confirm that, at the very least, angels and demons are confident that the universe is a vast vacuum (matching our modern ideas of cosmology) and also that it has a physical end somewhere (due to the way space-time curves, this might not necessarily be the case).**

And yet.

All these vast loads of burgerall are slated to be destroyed along with the Earth, aren’t they?

It certainly seems they were created at the same time. We know that there had only been “rather more than seven” days as of the start of the book, and that “rain hadn’t been invented yet” (p. 9). The language suggests not only that Earth is a new thing, but that there isn’t another planet out there that already experienced days and rain. Crowley, at least, believes that God created the whole universe (p. 373) and there seems nothing in the book to contradict this.

As for Armeggedon, it’s referenced as the “final test” and as “testing everything to destruction” and so forth (p. 48). At the final showdown on the airbase, Metatron refers to the great plan of a world lasting six thousand years (p. 352), and again this could refer to Earth only, or it could be the universe as a whole. In fact, as a general rule, the book simply conflates the earth and the universe, as if they were the same thing. And they are. Much like in the more Medieval and Classical worldview outlined above, there could be lots of stars and things out there but they only serve as a backdrop to the real important things going on here on Earth. Everything was created at the same time, and the only reason it might not be destroyed all at once is if the winning side decides they like the view and want to keep it.

The only hint that there might be more to the universe than Heaven, Hell and the little stage for their cold war (Earth) is the appearance of the aliens to Newt.

And yet, what are they described as? One is “stubby and green,” the one that talks to Newt is “a yellow toad dressed in kitchen foil...wearing the kind of mirror-finished sunglasses that Newt had always thought of as Cool Hand Luke shades” and the third is “a pepper pot.”

Two aliens as designed by a child, one clearly doing some vague Space Cop look, and a Dalek. The ship itself “looked like every cartoon of a flying saucer Newt had ever seen” (p. 197). I never ever got the impression these aliens were anything other than figments summoned from Adam’s head, spouting buzzwords he’d seen in New Aquarian (acid rain, albedo, polar ice caps) while acting like cops do in movies. And their message “We give you a message of universal peace and cosmic harmony an’ suchlike” (p. 198) - the “an’” instead of “and” is one of the distinguishing marks of how Adam and The Them talk. This is another one of his stories and games, played out on a much wider scale.***

My primary conclusion here would be that aliens cannot exist in the Book!Omens universe. The universe is the backdrop, Earth is where the real drama plays out. The universe has only existed for 6,000 years, not nearly enough time for other life to have evolved separately. God could have created life on the other worlds, but there is no indication that this ever happened, that there are other playgrounds on which this fight is being acted out - Crowley and Aziraphale never even consider the possibility that they’ll be reassigned elsewhere. It’s Earth, and then eternity in Head Office, no other options.

Book Omens: Other Possibilities?

I do think there is one alternative possible for Book!Omens: if we are willing to throw away the strictly supernatural elements of the book, it could be re-envisioned as a sci-fi story, in which God, angels, and demons are actually super-dimensional aliens who, by Clark’s Third Law, are sufficiently advanced to be indistinguishable from actual angels and demons. I refer to this as the Stargate Interpretation.****

More accurately, God would have to be the super-dimensional being, and would have created the Earth as a place to let the story play out; the angels and demons are then direct creations who buy 100% into the narrative they are given. Everything else can still exist - Lucifer rebels because of the same reasons, takes along all the unsatisfied angels, Heaven and Hell are only concerned with Earth because that’s all they’ve been told to concern themselves with. Their afterlives exist still, but only because humans were created to fit into that system.

Meanwhile, literally anything could be going on in the rest of the universe. There could be alien races thousands of years older than the earth. There could be galactic empires. Who knows? Not people on Earth. Our world was isolated from all that by superdimensional shenanigans.

But, and this is important, in order to maintain the illusion, angels and demons must be kept as much in ignorance of all this as humans. Might lead you to question the power of the being with the Ineffable Plans if those plans only extend to the edge of the solar system and don’t even go particularly far back in time.

Now, do I think this is the best headcanon for the book? Nope. This is a supernatural story, the threat of Heaven and Hell is so looming and menacing because there’s no other force out there, nowhere to appeal except the “higher authority” that isn’t, apparently, listening, and there’s no option to escape just by relocating to a new world. I think trying to force the Stargate Interpretation on it would diminish the story, and I really don’t think it’s what the authors intended at all.

However, I also think this would make for a very interesting fanfic in the hands of the right writer. Book Aziraphale or Crowley suddenly discovering that the scope of Head Office’s powers is much more limited than they’d thought? Who knows about this - have the Archangels and Lords of Hell been covering this up to keep the lower-level angels and demons from rebelling? Would their “miraculous” powers still operate the same on these alien worlds? Are there other beings out there more powerful? Or going the other direction - are there other worlds also playing out their own little pantomime of Eden and Armageddon? Are they created by the same God, or other members of the same race, and what are the implications either way? Does each world have an Aziraphale and a Crowley, or is the main GO world the first to screw up the Apocalypse so badly they survive it - and what is the implication of that?

There’s a whole lot of scope for interesting AUs out of this, and I’d be rather surprised if no one has written any, seeing as the book came out thirty years ago. (If any are available on AO3, send us links - this sounds a bit niche, but I’d love for fans to be able to find these!) I would consider them AUs though; the default assumption of the book is no aliens and including them is a deviation, just as adding in Hogwarts or Charles Xavier’s school while keeping everything else the same is a deviation.

However, in the TV series, space is certainly more present in the narrative, and the Stargate Interpretation doesn’t work as well. Can we reach any clear conclusions? I’ll attempt to find out in my next meta!

(Too important to footnote: We know that Atlantis vanished (p.372) so most likely Adam’s aliens did as well. There is, still, the possibility that they continued to exist after the end of the world. I think their somewhat shoddy appearance and very cliched dialogue suggest the aliens would, at best, continue to cycle through similar interactions to what we saw with Newt until Adam either “deactivated” or “updated” them. What would they do then? Did he create entire races and homeworlds for them or - as I rather suspect - did he just make the one ship full and then move on to the next?)

-- Footnotes --

*Note: the math for predicting eclipses has also existed for thousands of years, but was more difficult for ancient cultures to confirm because only a fraction of eclipses are visible from a certain spot. Several ancient cultures were eventually able to work out the pattern, notably ones that either ruled over a lot of land or else had good information exchange with their neighbors. Comets took a LOT longer, and indeed as late as the 16th century many believed each comet was unique and traveled linearly through the solar system, never to return. Edmond Halley (working partly from observations by Isaac Newton) was able to demonstrate that comets did in fact orbit the sun, and predicted the return of the comet now named for him in 1758. He also was the first to observe and describe the proper motion of stars, that is, the fact that they don’t actually travel in one large fixed group.

**Also, I find it delightful that, along with thinking dolphins are fish, Aziraphale says the bird crossing the universe would need a generation starship - which as a sci-fi trope has been somewhat out of fashion since the 1970s, in favor of faster-than-light starships. This alone says volumes about his taste in literature and science.

***The fact that the alien refers to its own message as “one of them pheonomena” (p.198) - a term Shadwell uses - does suggest that Newt’s own imagination is filling in the gaps left by Adam.

****Just gonna go ahead and out myself as a lifelong Stargate fan don’t mind me. That said, Terry Pratchett also explores a world made in this style in his pre-Discworld novel, Strata, which contains a flat world in a sci-fi setting, where everything operates according to a medieval worldview. It is a fascinating read, not least for the inclusion of several elements that would later find a permanent home in the Discworld series. If you can find it, read it.

tagging the commenters who said yesterday they would be interested:

@sarahthecoat @ineffableove @akawestruck

#good omens #book good omens #book omens #good omens meta #good omens book #space #alpha centauri #aliens #stargate #of aliens and alpha centauri #sci-fi #i knew this was going to be a weird meta

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welllpthisishappening · 4 years

Text

A Two-Man Advantage

That gif has absolutely nothing to do with this story! I don’t know that Killian and Roland ever actually interacted on the show! It doesn’t matter! So today this gif set posted and @shireness-says said she would like to see some pre-Blue Line Killian and Roland, so here is about 5K of just that, set in, like, September 2013. So, this is the start of the season Killian comes back to the Rangers after he gets hurt. With a side of snarky Ariel, Vankald-type emotions and allusions to things that happen at the very start of Blue Line. It’s all coming together, guys!

-----

“Just for five minutes.”

“I don’t—“ Killian said, but Robin widened his eyes and the rest of the words appeared to evaporate. Right on the tip of his tongue. He slumped, practically going concave in front of his locker and it wasn’t that he was nervous, per se, but he was—

Nervous.

There was really no other word for it.

Well, maybe terrified.

Killian had never been terrified of this game. Or the ice. Or the possibility of those two things together. But that was before everything else happened and the apartment he’d only just recently moved into felt impossibly large and far too small all at the same time.

It was messing with his head.

A lot of things were messing with Killian’s head.

Because they were closing in on the end of camp and his hand didn’t hurt that much anymore—or least not as much as it had right after the accident and that had to count for something, even if Ariel was determined to take all the credit, and they had a game to play in three days. Seventy-two hours. Two more vaguely restless nights of something that could possibly be referred to as sleep. Honestly, he hated the paint on his apartment’s walls.

And the look on Robin’s face.

Imploring, that was the word for it.

Killian was practically a walking thesaurus. Or something less lame sounding. He really hadn’t slept in a very long time.

“Five minutes,” Robin repeated, like Killian wasn’t almost painfully aware of the constant passing of time. His eyes couldn’t get any wider. It couldn't have been healthy. “Maybe even less. Three, if I can get away with short sentences.” “They’re interviewing you,” Killian reasoned. “You’re not getting out of there for fifteen minutes at least.”

Robin grimaced. “I mean, you never know. If we rush through stuff and—” “—Then they’re only going to think that you’re trying to blow them off.” “I am. Obviously.” Killian barked out a laugh, some of the tension that had taken root between his shoulder blades over the last year and a half loosening slightly. That was unexpected.

All of it was, really.

He was terrified of this game.

The return. That’s what one column had dubbed it, which was almost too heavy-handed, but Killian had already lost track of the number of times he’d read it and he didn’t even need the link saved to his bookmarks anymore.

He could probably recite it verbatim.

That would annoy Ariel. Maybe Killian would do that later, then.

“The starving public wants your opinion on our chances this year,” Killian shrugged, and he hoped it wasn’t a sign when he fell off the stool.

“And I’m the only one capable of forming coherent sentences on this team.” “Wow, scathing.” “Five minutes.” “Did we not just agree to at least fifteen? This conversation doesn’t make any sense.” “Yeah, well, get used to that,” Robin muttered. “Because the conversational tendencies of a three-year-old are not much better.” “Almost four,” Killian objected. He wasn’t sure why he was arguing on behalf of Roland. “And,” Killian added, “as much as I’d love to hang out with the kid while you give sound-bites—” “—This is an interview for the Daily News, weren’t you listening to me before?” Killian shook his head. “Absolutely not.” “Are you sleeping?” “Absolutely not.” Robin sighed. Killian did his best not to bury himself in the back corner of his locker. That probably would have done damage to even more of his body. And then Ariel would never let him skip PT again.

“Maybe this will do you some good, then,” Robin said.

“Babysitting your kid?” “I’m going to punch you.” “Don’t do that, Red will get mad at me.” “Yeah, well,” Robin shrugged, “you’re setting yourself up for it, at this point. You’re really not sleeping?” Another head shake. That one hurt a bit — as if Killian’s brain was bouncing off his skull as well, and one of the media relations people was already calling for Robin from the other side of the locker room.

“And it’s not really baby-sitting,” Robin continued. “It’s more like—fifteen minutes of making sure he doesn’t break anything.” “Ask Scarlet.” “Are you kidding me?” Killian scoffed. “I’m going to tell him you said that.” “Seriously, does my punching threat not actually threaten you?” “Not at all, no,” Killian said, pushing up when he noticed the small blur in the corner of his eye and Roland Locksley always seemed to be holding a hockey puck. It was equal parts endearing and confusing. Killian couldn’t imagine where he kept getting them from.

“Hook! Hook! Hook!”

“Rol, Rol, Rol,” Killian echoed, and his left knee cracked when he ducked down. Roland slammed into his chest anyway, still chanting directly in Killian’s ear at the same time his arms flew up, an elbow colliding with a shoulder and the word game was shouted more than once.

Whoever gave Roland the hat he was wearing did not understand the concept of children’s sizes.

And Robin’s lips had very quickly disappeared behind his teeth.

“Scarlet would end up on the ice with him, or something. And I can only ask him to do this so many times before it starts to get annoying.” “You're asking Scarlet to watch your kid a lot?” Killian asked.

“Five seconds ago you told me to ask him right now.” “We’ve really got to work on your concept of time.” Killian exhaled, which might have been a very large mistake or another way to help ease some of the pressure currently accumulating at the base of his spine. “First it’s five minutes and then fifteen and now this conversation’s only been five seconds long. What’s your obsession with fives, by the way?” “When do you think you’ll be able to sleep?” Killian made a ridiculous noise — the feel of it scratching at the sides of his throat and those evaporated words, weighing down his tongue in almost perfect harmony with the weight of the three-year-old suddenly hanging from his side. He wobbled a bit when he stood back up.

Mostly because Roland’s knee was digging into something that might have been his pancreas.

He’d never graduated college.

This was all he had going for him.

That probably explained the insomnia. And the issues with his spine. He was a very depressing person.

“He wanted to hang out with you,” Robin added softly, like that would make a difference. Killian grit his teeth. It totally made a difference.

He leaned back — all too aware of the location of Roland’s knees and the puck that was already trying to move into the spot his fourth vertebrae was currently occupying — only to be met with equally wide eyes and a smile that wasn’t worried about the first preseason game of the year.

Roland was very excited about the first preseason game of the year.

His hat was falling dangerously close to his eyes.

“Alright,” Killian said, only a little annoyed that the word came out a bit like a sigh. “But you should make sure to tell whoever interviews you that you play dirty, Locksley.” Roland hummed, a knowing sound made all the more obnoxious when he crossed his arms lightly over his chest. And rocked back on his heels. “I don’t see how that’s true at all. You were requested, Jones. By name. Or, you know—nickname.” “Yuh huh.” “Ask Gina if you want to double check.” “And where is Her Majesty right now?” “With Scarlet, talking about some kind of something that—” “—Is that the official name, then?” Robin didn’t look impressed. His arms definitely tightened, at least. And Killian’s smile threatened to do permanent damage to his cheeks, a weird stretch they absolutely were not used to in the inherently depressing string of moments that had become his life over the last year. He shouldn’t go out on the ice any time soon — the bitterness in the very center of him would probably melt it.

“You fall back on sarcasm when you are freaking out about things,” Robin announced, and Killian didn’t quite freeze, but he also wasn’t sure how much more of this his spine was going to be able to handle. Roland’s knee dug deeper into his side.

“Freaking out is very juvenile, don’t you think?” “No, I do not. And I get it, I do. But—” He clicked his tongue, a half-hearted shrug. “The game’s still the same and you’re—” “—Not,” Killian finished. “Far from it.” “Something about evolution, I guess.” Killian let out another laugh, darker than the first, hissing in a breath when Roland tilted his head up at the sound. “Something like that,” Killian mumbled. Someone called for Robin again, footsteps joining the voice, and it probably wasn’t a good idea to stay in the locker room with a nearly four-year-old kid. “Ok,” he added. “What do you want to do for fifteen minutes while your dad tries not to embarrass the franchise, Rol?” “No one’s embarrassing anyone,” Robin argued, waving a quick hand towards an impatient journalist.

“Except maybe the kid. In this hat.” Killian tugged lightly on the fabric, pulling it over Roland’s ears, but that only served to press his hair across his forehead and the laugh that rang out around them was as loud as it was comforting.

“The hat was a gift,” Robin said.

“From who? Someone who wanted to make sure Rol doesn’t see anything?” “I can see, Hook,” Roland objected loudly, squirming in Killian’s hold and none of this was probably great for his hand. He wasn’t very worried about his hand at the moment.

“Yeah, how many fingers am I holding up?” He shifted his weight — and the weight of the kid in his arms — ignoring Robin’s pointed stare and the increasingly loud huffs of the understandably annoyed reporter, so he could hold up several fingers. Someone was tapping their foot too. That might have been the new media relations person.

Killian couldn’t remember her name.

He was an asshole. A worried, terrified, absolutely exhausted asshole.

And Roland had to push up his hat to see, smile somehow getting even bigger when he yelled “Three! Like me, right, Hook?” “Exactly,” Killian nodded. “Tell your dad to go away so we can hang out, huh?” “Dad, go!” Whatever noise Robin made at that was a little strangled, but Killian was admittedly far more preoccupied with the state of his lungs and their ability to function better in the last twenty-four seconds than they had in the last twenty-four weeks.

It was annoying when Robin was right.

And, strictly speaking, he wasn’t sure what had changed — that anything had, really. But there was this kid and this team and they both wanted him to do something good when he got back on the ice in three days. So, Killian figured he owed it to both of them to at least try.

“Ok, ok,” Robin muttered, a step forward so he could kiss the top of Roland’s head. Or, hat. “I will call you guys when I’m done and—” “—Dad, I want to hang out with Hook!” Killian smirked. “I’m cooler than you, it seems.” “Yeah, you’re something,” Robin muttered. The reporter was starting to sound out of breath. Killian had to press his forehead to Roland’s shoulder to stop himself from laughing. “Alright, fifteen minutes and—” The reporter made a noise. It didn’t sound particularly pleasant. “An indeterminate amount of time,” Robin amended, “and I’ll be back and—just, please try not to break anything. Bones or otherwise.” “Thanks for the vote of confidence,” Killian said. “We’ll be fine. Right, Rol?” He nodded enthusiastically, enough movement on his chin that it probably would have impressed several major league baseball scouts. “Yeah, yeah, yeah, what are we going to do, Hook?”

“Who bought your hat?”

Roland opened his mouth — presumably to answer the question, or just to shout more plans, but then the reporter was trying to ask his own questions and Killian gave Robin an exaggerated wink before walking out of the locker room.

“Your dad thinks you’re going to break a lot of things, doesn’t he?” Killian asked, doing his best to get Roland back on his feet. It didn’t work. “You have a habit of doing that?” Roland blinked. “What’s a habit?” “Oh. Uh—well, it’s...you do it a lot. More than once. Like you seem to have a habit of knocking things over and moving your limbs a lot.” No response. And Killian wasn’t really sure where they were walking, but his feet kept moving and, technically, he was supposed to be at PT in ten minutes. He hadn’t mentioned that to Robin.

It absolutely did not matter. Because the footsteps approaching Killian’s back were far closer to a sprint than they probably should have been and he swore he could taste Ariel’s frustration in the air.

“Killian! Where do you think you’re going?” He turned slowly, not able to stop the way he winced at Ariel’s expression. The size of her eyes rivaled Robin’s, but there was a spark there that Robin hadn’t had — a determination that probably could have fueled most of the Tri-State area, or at least the island of Manhattan and—

Roland waved.

“Hi, A,” he yelled. Directly into Killian’s ear. Again.

She didn’t soften, really, was still doing her best to glare at Killian — but Ariel’s shoulders dropped slightly and she definitely exhaled, a step into Killian’s space. “Hey, Rol,” she said. “What are you doing here? With Killian?” “Hook and I are hanging.” “Hanging?” “Hanging,” Killian nodded. “And I wasn’t going to skip, Red. Honestly, I just—” “—Was going to bring a three-year-old to your PT appointment?” “Depends on how long Locksley takes with that reporter.” “Interviews?” “Unless you think Locksley’s giving up state secrets or something,” Killian said. “What would we call our scandal? GardenGate?” Ariel scowled. “That’s not even creative.” “Please, that’s hysterical. You’re trying not to laugh, Red, I know it.” “I’m trying not to do something, but—” She made a face, pushing up on her toes so she could fix Roland’s hat and the stupid thing was just determined to fall over his left eye. “Where did this come from?” Ariel asked. “Is this a hat for a giant?” “No,” Roland grumbled. “It’s mine!” “Yuh huh. And you’re not a giant, right?” “No, no, no, A. I’m three!” “We did this part, already,” Killian added, grimacing when Ariel flicked his bent elbow. “And we’re open to suggestions on activities that don’t include the ice or broken things.” “Concern over broken things gives me pause. And you act like you're not going to try and get on the ice at some point. That’s admirable.” “Apparently that’s a habit of Scarlet’s when he’s the one babysitting. The broken things.”

“Thanks for the clarification.”

Killian shrugged, trying to stay casual or nonchalant or something that didn’t betray his lack of sleep and growing concern over how well he’d skate, but then Roland started yelling, repeating the word habit in quick succession until it sounded like one syllable and a very large letter. Maybe Killian should have been more worried about his potential hearing loss instead of the state of his left hand.

Or his preseason conditioning. “Are we honestly calling what you’re doing right now babysitting?” Ariel asked. “How do you think that’s going for you?” Killian rolled his eyes. “You flatter me, really, you do. These are also not suggestions.” “I wasn’t asked to babysit.” “Yeah, well, you’ve got that very important job to do.” She stepped on his foot. “Hey, c’mon,” Killian snapped, but he couldn’t really stumble backwards when he was still holding Roland and he was positive Ariel had planned it that way. Her smile had taken on a very pleased look. “We are open to suggestions and extra additions to the hang.” “Are you inviting me into your top-secret club?” “I don’t think it’s really all that top secret. I mean, you found us in the hallway.”

Ariel chuckled, a quick click of her tongue and fingers tugging lightly on the back of Roland’s team-branded t-shirt. “You’re very annoying. But, yeah—ok. My afternoon was mostly focused on you anyway, might as well hang out with someone I like.” “The compliments have to stop.”

“God, this is an unorganized conversation. Well, if you’re not going to the ice and you can’t stay in the locker room, then you can come upstairs.” Killian tilted his head, suspicion finding its way up his spine. He was thinking far too much about his spine. “That sounds like you’re just trying to get me to go to PT, Red.” “Wow, imagine that.” “Taking advantage of the situation.” “Please,” Ariel objected. “I’m offering you a place to sit down instead of just wandering the hallways for however long Locksley’s interview lasts.” “Probably longer if it does involve state secrets.” “Idiot.” “Mhmm,” Killian agreed. “What do you say, Rol? We go find some tape in Red’s office and—I don’t know, learn how to wrap ankles or something?” Ariel groaned, throwing her whole head back, which felt like overkill, but Killian didn’t move his gaze away from Roland or his slightly flushed cheeks. He nodded again, quick and a little jerky, more than enough movement that the hat fell off in the process and Killian couldn’t say anything before Ariel was ducking down and tugging the stupid thing over his head.

“Wow,” she drawled. “You’re a fashion icon.” “Ha ha ha.” “No, no, you look good, really you do.” He wasn’t sure he got enough frustration into his narrowed eyes, but Roland was laughing again and maybe that was the only thing that mattered. “You haven’t given me an answer yet, you know,” Killian said, hitching Roland further up his side so he couldn’t yank on the hat. “We go get your ankles taped so you don’t get hurt when you do inevitably get on the ice?” “I’m not helping you sneak this kid onto the ice, Killian,” Ariel hissed.

“Did I say that?” She sighed.

Roland beamed.

“Yeah, I think this is a good plan,” Killian said, a quick nod and smile flashed in Ariel’s direction. She stuck her tongue out. “This is your moment to shine, Red. Show off your skills. We could time you, if you wanted.” “Has anyone ever told you are strangely competitive?” “I think it’s been mentioned once or twice, yeah.” Killian didn’t add that it hadn’t been the case in the last few months, but if anyone knew that it was Ariel and, presumably, the person who was calling the ringing cell phone in his pocket. He assumed it was Elsa. It usually was.

He was ninety-two percent positive she and Ariel had regularly scheduled video chat meetings to talk about him as well.

Killian ignored the vibrating piece of technology, swinging Roland onto his back to avoid muscle strain in his forearm and that left him gasping just a bit when a knee moved again, but he was also walking already and Ariel had to jog to keep up. So, as far as victories went, that was a pretty good one.

They marched upstairs, Roland’s quiet commentary a steady soundtrack up several flights, and Killian wasn’t out of breath exactly, but a three-year-old was deceptively heavy and maybe he should have rethought this plan.

He hoped that wasn’t another sign.

Of something.

His phone started ringing again.

Killian dropped Roland onto the nearest table, a mess of limbs and laughter and a foot that immediately collided with his right thigh, both of them ignoring Ariel’s glare. “I’m starting to see how things wind up breaking around you, Rol,” she muttered, already rifling through drawers and throwing a roll of tape at Killian. He caught it. “God, that’s going to do horrendous things to your ego.” “You act like I’ve got one,” Killian argued, and that was more out-of-place depressing nonsense.

“Oh man, now I feel bad.” “Don’t Red. It’s not a big deal and—” “A, A, can we tape now?” Roland asked, barely getting one word out before he was on to the next one. He hauled his legs up, elbows on knees and a gaze that made it seem as if taping his ankles was the single greatest thing they could have been doing.

Killian had no idea what was happening in the middle of his chest.

Not quite warm, not quite uncomfortable, just kind of — nice. In the most basic form. He glanced at Ariel, one eyebrow arched expectantly and the roll of tape twisting around his index finger.

She scrunched her nose.

“He’s got a repeating thing, doesn’t he?”

“He’s three,” Killian said.

“Yeah, yeah—oh shut up,” she added quickly, when he opened his mouth to point out she was doing the exact same thing. “Luckily for us, repeating is a key part of taping ankles. Ok, Killian, take your sandal off.” “Wait, what?” “Gotcha there didn’t I?” “I don’t—” he started, but Ariel was already trying to tug his sandal off and the whole thing had reached absurd levels far quicker than he expected it to. He was going to lose the babysitting competition to Will.

That was disappointing.

And unspoken.

“I can’t teach Rol how to tape ankles if he doesn’t get to do it,” Ariel explained. She held her hands out, getting Roland back on the floor and Killian wasn’t sure when he’d sat down on the table instead, but he’d lost control of the situation as soon as the situation began, so it probably wasn’t important. “Give me the tape, Killian,” she added.

He threw it. It landed on the floor.

“Not helping,” Ariel growled. “Ok, Rol, so see how Killian—” “—Hook,” he interrupted, and Killian couldn’t help the smile tugging at the ends of his mouth.

Ariel nodded. “Hook needs to flex his foot for me.” “How am I going to push off then?” Killian asked. “You’ve got to be able to have some movement even with the tape, Rol. Otherwise you won't be able to go fast and—” “—I want to go fast!” “That’s definitely the point.” Ariel rolled her whole head. “I’m not going to make you immobile. God. Just—do you turn your ankles a lot when you angle in on net?” “Eh,” Killian shrugged, a fairly pitiful deflection when Ariel’s eyebrows shot into her hairline. “Sounds like a yes. Why didn’t you say that? We should probably avoid that.” “We’ve got other things going on.” “Self-sacrificing is not a cute look on you, you know.” “Am I trying to be cute for you? When am I going to meet this guy you’ve been dating?” “There is a child here,” Ariel sneered, swatting at Killian’s shins when he grinned.

“I bet he’d like to meet your boyfriend too. He owns a restaurant, right?” “Yes, uptown. And, uh—I don’t know, maybe we can go up there after your game.” “My game personally?” Ariel gnashed her teeth, another victory in a competition Killian was very likely having with himself. He wanted to score in the preseason game. If only to prove something to himself. “Rol,” Ariel continued, “can you grab that can off my desk?” He rushed over, knocking several other things over in the process, and Killian yelped when Ariel sprayed his foot. “That is freezing!” “What is it?” Roalnd asked. “Pre-tape,” Ariel answered. “So things get a little more sticky and Hook stops hurting his ankles when he takes that wide angle to get into the high slot.” “And score?” “Absolutely.” “Is that a note of confidence I hear, Red?” She flicked his shin again, Roland talking a mile a minute about goals and angles he absolutely did not understand, and Killian’s chest was doing that thing again. Expanding. To fit his larger-than-normal heart. “He’s going to score, don’t you think?” Ariel asked Roland.

He jumped. Killian assumed that was the answer.

And he knew he was going to score in now, less than seventy-two hours.

“Here,” Ariel continued, tugging on pre-tape and actual tape and moving Roland’s hands so he could twist both of them around Killian’s foot. “Yeah, just like that, make sure you get it on his skin. You’ve got to find a rhythm, almost. Killian, stop moving.” “I’m not trying to,” he groused. “Stop moving, Hook,” Roland yelled, and he was running out of oxygen to sigh as dramatically as he wanted to.

“You’ve created a monster already, Red.” “Please,” she muttered, “look at those hands, he’s made for this.”

Roland nodded, more twists and tears, far more tape on Killian’s ankle than he’d used in his entire career. “I think that just means he’s got quick wrists,” Killian said. “Makes him good in shooting lanes.” “Is that all you think about?” “Should I be thinking about other things?” “Hook, Hook, you should get a power play goal,” Roland announced, letting Ariel move his hands when he circled the arch in Killian’s foot half a dozen times with tape.

“You think? Killian asked.

“It’d be good.” “I mean, any goal would be good, but—yeah, ok. A power play goal and tell you what, if I score, you can keep that puck and then you won’t have to keep stealing them from wherever you’re getting them.” Ariel flushed.

Killian’s jaw cracked when it dropped. “Oh my God, Red. Are you getting pucks for this child?”

“No. Of course not.” “No?” “No.” “A takes them from the room,” Roland said.

“What room?” Killian pressed, the color in Ariel’s cheeks starting to rival her hair. “The equipment room? Does the equipment manager of this team know that?”

Ariel’s face might have been on fire.

And Killian refused to control his laughter, free and easy and something he hadn’t felt in a very long time, Roland joining in even if he didn’t entirely understand the reason behind it. “From the room,” he said again. “But, but—what’s his name, A?” “Kristoff,” she grumbled. “Yeah, he gets mad sometimes.” “Because people keep stealing his pucks?” Killian suggested.

“Ok, that is not what’s happening. And, you know what—it’s fine. This is a professional hockey team and they absolutely have the money to spare on the few pucks I’m—” “—Stealing.” “Shut up, Killian.” He snickered, another nod that was definitely more sarcasm than anything else. “10-4, Havfrue. I deflect to your area of kleptomaniac expertise.” “God, you are insufferable. I take it back, you can’t come to the restaurant or meet the very nice people I met the other day who live a couple blocks away.” “Just them specifically?” “I bet Scarlet is a better babysitter than you.” “Wrong, nothing’s been broken yet. So. Rol, just keep taping, kid.”

Roland did as instructed, bending at the middle so he could look at the underside of Killian’s heel, and he was using far too much tape, but no one said anything to him and—

“Ah,” Killian gasped when Roland somehow yanked on his leg. In a way he was not at all prepared for. Everyone in the room froze, Ariel looking like she wasn’t breathing at all and Killian only felt a little absurd when he slid off the table, trying to balance on one foot when he crouched down.

Roland refused to meet his gaze, lips disappearing almost exactly like Robin’s had. He flinched when Killian rested his hand on his shoulder.

“I’m fine,” he promised softly.

Roland blinked. Several times. And there weren’t tears, but the threat of them hung heavy and, if asked, Killian would guarantee that’s why he did what he did next. He was also very curious. And very...sure.

“Who got you the hat?” he asked, a finger pointed at the thing still barely clinging to his hair. “Mr. or Mrs. V?”

Ariel gasped.

And Roland’s eyes got very wide, a slower-than-usual nod. “Ms. V did. She—she said it was for good luck. For the games.” A chest-thing hat trick was happening — all warmth and feeling and now Killian was actually going to have to call El back if only to make sure she knew what a giant pair of saps her parents were. She probably already knew.

Killian took a deep breath, tongue darting out to lick very dry lips. Roland kept staring at him, nervous obvious on his face, and Killian’s knees weren’t all that happy about his prolonged crouch, but he didn’t try to move and he didn’t really want to. “For luck, huh?”

“Yuh huh. Good goals.” “I think we can work on that this season, don’t you?” “Yeah?” It was an impossibly large question. After everything — accidents and slap shots, hospitals and beeping machines, good and bad, wins and losses, careers cut short and second chances that Killian knew he couldn’t waste again. He nodded.

“Yeah,” he echoed. “Good goals and lots of wins. And—” He reached up, pulling the hat off and it wasn’t easy to stay balanced when he got it back on Roland’s head, but they also avoided getting hair in the kid’s eyes, so that was another victory. He was going to brag to Will about his babysitting prowess later. “I think this means you’re Mr. and Mrs. V’s new favorite, which means you’re basically family, right?” Ariel made another noise. Not quite a gasp, but absolutely more emotional and Killian didn’t look at her.

He didn’t need his own eyes going glossy.

The lump in his throat was problematic enough.

“I mean,” he continued, “Mr. and Mrs. V are pretty much—” “—Your mom and dad?” Roland asked.

Killian hissed, not sure of that answer either, but that wasn’t the conversation he wanted to have and the lump was definitely getting bigger. “Something like that,” he admitted. “So, you’re like—grandson once removed. Or something.” “Something,” Ariel mumbled. She was sitting on the table now, hands moving quickly when she tried to brush away incriminating emotional evidence on her cheeks.

Killian smiled. “My point is, Rol, you’ve got this great nickname for me and I don’t have one for you. That’s a bad family look.” “I get a name too?” Roland exclaimed.

“Should be something good. As good as Hook is. That’s—” “—Nautical,” Ariel said. “You know, Captain Hook and all that.” “Is that offensive?” “Are you offended?” “I mean—” “—What about mate?” she cut in. “You know, like...first mate? You’re definitely Hook’s best friend, Rol.” “That’s true,” Killian nodded, if only to make sure the look on Roland’s face stayed there for a few more moments. Like he was hearing the greatest news in the world.

“You’re my friend too, Hook,” Roland said. Definitely the greatest news, then.

“Good. That’s—that’s good. Ok then, mate. Now that my ankle’s all taped up, what do you say to sneaking onto some ice? Bet we could get Scarlet to go along with it?” Roland didn’t answer, just started jumping again, arms around Killian’s neck and legs circling his middle when he stood back up. That made it more difficult to get his sandal back on, eyes flitting Ariel’s direction, but she didn’t say anything, just smiled and shook her head in something almost like acceptance.

“C’mon,” she said, “I know a place where we can steal some pucks.” And it wasn’t hard to get Will to agree to the quasi-practice, grabbing skates from the equipment room as well until Robin swung open the door to find them practicing one-timers in front of the far net. “Why am I not surprised?” he yelled.

Killian stopped moving, dousing Roland with a snow shower of ice. “You want to come out here now that you’re done promising how good we are?” “Are we not as good as I promised we were?” “Depends on what you were quoted,” Will said. “C’mon, Locksley, we’ll go up against Killian and the kid. Show ‘em how it’s done.” “Done what, exactly?” “I don’t know. Winning or something.” “Yeah, that sounds super confident,” Killian laughed. Robin got on the ice anyway — and they let Roland score no less than sixteen times, a puck in his pocket when they finally went back to the locker room to get changed.

And three days later, once Killian scored on the power play in the first period of the first preseason game of the year.

#blue line one shots #i can't tag captain swan in this since emma won't show up in this verse for several seasons #this is just a mess of emotions and reasoning for a very american killian calling roland locksley mate his entire life #because that never really ends #they call each other hook and mate for the rest of ever #this was a very fun distraction in my quest to not write obituaries #so if there's something you were like...i wonder how that happened in this never ending universe #i'm down to write just about anything at this point #it will inevitably be very emotional and very fluffy

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normal-thoughts-official · 5 years

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*breakdances softly* Thoughts on florist Magnus and tattoo artist Alec?

*waltzes aggressively* well i definitely do now

okay so like i am vaguely aware that you probably wanted me to actually create a story like i did for the other asks;

because listen, florist Magnus???????? i had never thought about it before, but that shit is THE BOMB

in indonesia, particularly Bali, flowers hold special significance both in the social and religious sense; they have meaning, they have history, and they have everyday uses and are a part of everyday life; people grow flowers at home, give them as gifts, have entire markets entirely dedicated to the trade of flowers. and yes, i know magnus is javanese, but this applies to pretty much all of Indonesia, including Java, and Jakarta has its own traditional flower market with flowers from all over the world and some of the sellers being in the business since the 60s, not to mention that many balinese ppl immigrated to Java and the two islands' histories are deeply connected. so nothing is even stopping me from believing that magnus' mom was a balinese migrant living in Java. which is exactly what im gonna do in this specific AU at least

So Magnus was actually born in Indonesia, where he lived for most of his childhood; until his mom suddenly died of a terrible disease and he was kind of thrown into living with his father, who, despite having him registered and being his legal guardian, had never so much as bothered to meet Magnus before this point

His father was also Indonesian but had long since moved to the US, so magnus' life was completely turned upside down. And despite providing financially for everything Magnus needed, asmodeus never really bothered with him beyond the basics; Magnus was pretty much self-raised

So for the whole time he lived with him, he ached with memories of his mom and his country. And what he remembered best about her was the flowers. The jasmines she used to grow at home, the unique smell they left on the water she used to wash his hair; the offerings of frangipani she would leave by their doorstep everyday, intricately sewn together and leaving the smell of both the flowers and the incense with them as they left to the ports; the flower boards she would give him on his birthday, different patterns every year, and somehow she would always find plywood and tahi cotok to make them the traditional way instead of the modern with styrofoam

Magnus refuses to let any of these traditions die; once he finally graduates and leaves his father's home (forever disappointing him in his refusal to take over his business) he dedicates almost all of the space in his home to a greenhouse where he can grow all of the indigenous indonesian flower species without worrying that they will die in the distinctly not-tropical climate of New York; he leaves offerings in his doorstep everyday, facing North for Vishnu, so as to bring harmony not only in his life but in his whole community as well. And he's a florist.

He knows both traditional indonesian flower meanings, and western flower language, and often mixes the two since the flowers in these cultures are so different. He makes bouquets, arrangements, and flower boards, keeping the tradition alive even when he's far away from home. This way he feels like he belongs, like he carries a piece of his mother with him everyday, and reminds himself that, even if he's been taken away from his home, it won't be taken away from him

It's pretty much only him in his shop, but his friend Dot also makes deliveries and helps him keep the shop running. He has a few regulars and all in all he lives a stable, happy life.

He meets Alec when he decides to make his first tattoo - a string of jasmines around his elbow, the national flowers of indonesia and also his mom's favorite. He chooses Alec both because of his mesmerising drawing style and his history of working and good recommendations from other dark-skinned people; his friend Catarina also tattooed at his shop, although with his sister, Izzy, who was the one who actually ran the shop

Alec is impressed by how well Magnus handles the pain; it's his very first tattoo and elbows are a bitch. Magnus doesn't tell him that after living with his father for so long he's used to the pain, but he does tell him about the meaning of the tattoo, the flowers, and his mom. He's surprised by how much he's saying to this guy he barely knows, but there's something about wanting to be distracted from the sting and having to be alone with this guy for who knows how many hours that keeps him talking. Alec listens to it quietly, focused on his work, and Magnus isn't even sure if he's actually listening, which kind of also works if he's being honest. Of course, Alec is; listening to Magnus talk is very nice, his voice is soothing and the way he talks about his mom and his passion for flowers is really touching, not to mention Magnus is just interesting; alluring, if you will. But he doesn't have much to add, so he listens

A few days later, Alec shows up at Magnus' shop, all private smiles and wandering eyes, and asks him for help with a birthday present for Izzy. He wants to make her something special, to thank her for her support when he came out and just support in general. It surprises Magnus, but Alec says that Izzy has always liked flowers and from the way Magnus was talking about it the other day, well, he seemed like a good person to help him with this present. He really wanted something to convey his gratitude

Magnus is pleasantly surprised that Alec remembers so much of what he said; even more so when he's careful not to step on Magnus' canang sari at the doorstep, with the incense still burning; and he's absolutely delighted when Alec says he wants Magnus to help him make an arrangement, not just make himself, and that he's willing to pay extra for his consulting (Magnus has never charged extra for consulting, because he really downplays his talent and work and loves sharing his knowledge; but it does feel nice to be valued and have his work acknowledged). So Magnus runs all of his ideas by him, shows him the flowers, and Alec carefully handles and smells them and listens to Magnus' suggestions and slowly makes his own based on what Magnus has been saying. Alec shows respect to the flowers and it's cute to see this big, buffy guy covered in weird tattoos and wearing a leather jacket going around and carefully handling the flowers Magnus grows.

Alec, on the other hand, is just fascinated by everything Magnus says and shows him, and his burning passion for what he does, and how clearly he likes to help people even if it means downplaying his own work

Wow this is actually starting to resemble a plot??? I'm shook

Anyway it takes them a long while to figure out what they want to do, and Alec actually ends up deciding on making izzy a flower board once Magnus mentions them offhandedly. Once Magnus assures him it's not offensive if he makes them with the proper care and respect for its meaning, they settle on working on that.

Listen I need excuses for them to interact okay. Also the idea of Magnus teaching Alec how to sew flowers???? Beautiful

Cue some gay shit, at least once Alec puts a flower behind Magnus' ear and tells him that it suits him, more often than not they find themselves having a lot of fun - Magnus teases him mercilessly over how bad at sewing he is, and Alec is deeply offended (except not really)

Once he even tries to challenge Magnus at doing something from Alec's element and see how well he does, only to be sent into the deepest despair when it turns out magnus is excellent at drawing

Magnus thinks he hears a muttered "of course" but he cant be too sure

Anyway they fall in love

Alec asks him out by making him a bouquet of magnus' favorite flowers, plus flowers that symbolize everything he loves the most about him (his uniqueness, his kindness, his fierceness, his determination in doing what he thinks is right, the joy he brings for everyone around him, his dedication to others, etc). Magnus all but swoons he is very charmed

They get married idk it always ends with them getting married when i have a say in it. Bonus points they get to be showered in flowers like in traditional indonesian weddings, which sends a very happy, very giggly magnus with petals still on his hair into absolute delight. Alec carries him bridal style to the bed and carefully takes the flowers off his hair and kisses him tenderly on their honeymoon and gggggggggggggggg.

Im gay and cant do this anymore im gonna get into a coma

Also, I will take this opportunity to just let it be known that y'all should feel absolutely free to take any and all of my posts as writing prompts; you dont need to ask for my permission to use the ideas, theres no way ill actually do them all and even if i do i dont mind that there are different versions of it going around; hell, i think that's amazing and exactly what fandom is for. Just link the post and if possible send me the fic because i'd be delighted to read it! What I'm trying to say here is, someone should write this

Also, I'm not hindu, so if any terms I've used are offensive or incorrect please let me know and I'll change it accordingly

#ask #cap-mars #sh #shadowhunters #magnus bane #alec lightwood #malec #malec fic #malec au #fic #overflowing trashcan #long post #florist au

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thegrapeandthefig · 5 years

Text

30 days of Dionysus - 8

Day 8 - Variations on this deity (aspects, regional forms, etc.)

That’s.. such a wide topic...

Let me start off by reminding everyone that ancient Greek cultus was not homogenous. Ancient Greece was a cluster of independant cities which, while sharing a pantheon, did things differently. So yeah, we’re gonna have plenty and plenty of regional forms and aspects for each god. I also want to point out that we’re also talking about a religion that changed a lot over the centuries. When someone now, in the 21th century, refers to “hellenic polytheism”, we’re talking about a simplified, unified, modernized version of the old cultus, no matter how recon you want to be. And that specific modern version is largely based upon the biggest ressource we have: Athens, and its golden age: the 5th century BC.

Now, if you’re historically inclined like myself and many others on this website are, you can dig into academical articles and books and find out more about more localized ways of doing.

As a said, there were many ways I could have gone with such a vague subject for today but I’m going to take the “regional form” route and talk about something I haven’t seen that much on tumblr yet: the thracian cult of Dionysus and its link to Orphism. This will be long, so I’m gonna put this under the cut and if you’re interested: buckle up.

Thrace is a large region located at the northern part of modern-day Greece, the southern-middle part of Bulgaria and western part of Turkey.

Basically, Thrace was its own thing, politically and culturally but we know very very little of pre-greek colonization Thrace because we don’t have any written source at all. What we know however, is that greek colonization began quite early on and that by the end of the 7th century BC, the Athenians were interested by the area for various reasons.

Context apart, the cult of Dionysus became so important in Thrace that during the Hellenistic period (aka post-Alexander the Great), we start seeing versions of myths were Dionysus is from Thrace. This has misled some historians into believing or at least, wondering if Dionysus has Thracian origins. Today, it has been proven that Dionysus is a completely Greek deity. Which means he was most likely introduced in Thrace by Greek settlers.

Anyway, here is the point: Dionysus was the most popular deity in Thrace and from this region, he gained two important epithets: Sabazius and Zagreus. Sabazius was the local Thracian god who got merged into Dionysus’ cult. This syncretism gave Dionysus an association with solar cult, for example. An association we don’t find in the “traditional hellenic context”. We have an example of Dionysus’ importance among the elite of Thrace in the 4th century BC, where he appears as the guaratantor of an oath about a regulation/treaty between one of the Thracian King’s successor and the people of Pistiros.

As for Zagreus, this epithet is directly linked to the Orphic tradition. As far as I’m aware, the Orphic interpretation of the Thracian Dionysus comes from the bulgarian archeologist Alexander Fol. Keep in mind the information I will be giving here either from him or from other researchers who have taken his work into account.

Let’s recap a little on the orphic myth of Dionysus-Zagreus: When Zagreus is born as the child of Persephone and Zeus, he unfortunately doesn’t succeed to escape Hera’s wrath and the Titans she sent upon him. Titans, who, when they get to kill the infant, dismember and eat him. Zeus, angered by the situation, kills the titans with lightning. Apollo collects what is left of Zagreus’ body in the ashes, Athena saves his heart and he then reborn as the son of Zeus and Semele, under the name of Dionysus.

As such, Zagreus is sometimes called the “First Dionysus” and has in essence a much more chtonic aspect than his “second” version and it is *believed* that the orphic cult of Dionysus-Zagreus is actually closer to the primitive Thracian cult practices. Fol’s interpretation of it is that Thracian Orphism is an elite oral tradition preaching the principles of harmony between the chthonic Zagreus and the solar Orpheus (among more stuff). That would give us a bacchic practice more focused on the idea of a twice-born god, paired with with a more symbolic version of the classical sparagmos/dismemberement of offerings/animals. In this case, it is not only bacchic madness, but a reenactement of the first incarnation of Dionysus.

I won’t go into full detail with Orphism and all the philosophy around it because omg not now + there would be a looooot to say and there are a lot of debates around it.

Lastly, there is a third, less important epithet that Dionysus gained from Thrace: Bassareus, derivative from a word meaning “fox-skin”, which was worn by dionysian worshippers during mysteries.

It also appears that there were several oracles of Dionysus in Thrace, but I won’t go too far into this, as the sources are a bit scarce the exact localization of the oracles are a work in progress. Traditionally however, an oracle of Dionysus was supposed to be situated on Mont Pangaion.

I think I will stop here. If you want sources or reading recommandations: ask and I’ll be happy to provide. Hopefully that was not too messy and somewhat helpful.

#30 days of devotion #Dionysus #dionysusdeity #hellenic paganism #hellenic polytheism #Hellenismos

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villlainarc · 4 years

Text

To Fall in Love

Remember My Embrace

Summary: In which Logan has a realization, makes a decision, and says goodbye.

Pairing: Logince

Warnings: one (1) vaguely described kiss, Even More Angst Than Usual, unhappy ending (coming soon)

Word Count: 1850

A/N: the song in this chapter is the one (1) musical song, i will be there from the count of monte cristo

More A/N: this is a secret santa gift for @ari-the-anxious-ace and as such, is already completed (and can be found at this very moment on ao3). but so as not to spam you, chapters will be posted every three days.

special thanks to @cringeless for beta reading :)

masterpost || 1 || 2 || 3 || 4 || 5 || 6

read on ao3 or below the cut

find other stuff i’ve written under #writingxofink

Logan has been a fool. He’s been a fool for thinking that he, a siren, could fall in love without it ending in disaster. He’s been a fool for getting so attached to Roman when he knows how this has to end. He’s been a fool for staying in this grotto and waiting for Roman to come back time and time again. He’s been a fool for waiting so long before draining his victim, for feeling his power grow weaker by the day and still putting off the inevitable.

Because this is inevitable. He can’t continue waiting for a different option; he’s not going to survive until then. No one else is coming. Logan can barely lure Roman out to the grotto, much less someone possibly oceans away.

If he doesn’t do this, he’s going to die.

But at the same time, he can’t do this. He knows instinctively that he will not, under any circumstances, be able to drain Roman.

Logan doesn’t have any other choice though. Not besides death.

Sure, he could abandon Roman, leave him here on the island and use what little energy he has left to swim to somewhere less secluded in the hope that maybe then, someone would hear him. It’s the best choice he has, in all honesty. Even then though, that’s a lot to hope for. That could still very well end in death.

And, though he will never admit it out loud, the sentimental part of himself that grows with every moment spent alongside Roman wants to stay with the man he’s fallen in love with for just a little while longer.

Because this is love. It had taken Logan forever to admit, but what he feels for Roman is love. That’s why he won’t—can’t—drain Roman. That’s why he doesn’t want to leave, even if it would be the best choice for both of them.

Even if it’s likely that Roman doesn’t love him in return.

Even on the off chance that he does, it will never amount to anything, no matter how many hours they’ve spent talking beneath the stars.

Even though Roman is sweet and understanding and kind, even though Roman listens to and cares about him in a way that no one else in his life ever has, even if he’s going to miss Roman more than he can possibly imagine… that won’t change a thing.

Their love will be one that’s doomed from the start. And Logan may be selfish, but he will never allow Roman to be hurt at his hands.

So no matter how much he doesn’t want to, Logan is going to leave. Tonight.

Because he can’t keep luring Roman back, keep singing to him of a dream that will never come true, not if Roman had been right about it. Logan refuses to bring pain to the one person he’s ever truly cared for.

Even if it means returning to a life of loneliness, even if it means breaking his own heart, he has to.

It’s not as though Roman will miss him anyway. Really, this is for the best.

Logan knows this. It’s the only option he has that doesn’t end in his, Roman’s, or both of their deaths. Therefore, logically, he shouldn’t have any doubts about following through with it.

But with love, Logan has found, logic rarely ever has a place. As Roman had said, sometimes you have to “follow your heart” in order to find happiness.

It’s too bad, then, that Logan can’t do that this time. This time, he has to do what’s right.

So, as he’s done every night for the past month, two weeks, and five days, Logan calls out to Roman with the song that has become theirs. “Ah-ah, ah-ah.”

By this point, surely Roman knows that if he wanted to ignore the song, he could. Surely he’s felt its pull growing weaker as Logan’s power dwindles.

But for whatever reason, Roman’s still coming tonight. Logan can feel him and his dream traveling closer, though he genuinely doesn’t know why. Roman could easily leave, so why hasn’t he?

There’s one explanation that Logan can think up off the top of his head, but the idea seems so impossible to him that he denies it the ability to take up any space in his mind. He doesn’t so much as think the words.

🌊

Roman’s journey, as per usual, takes a few minutes. This gives Logan more than enough time to rethink his idea and back out of something that will only bring him pain. He won’t, though. He refuses to allow Roman to be hurt by dragging this out for longer than he ever should have. This is something he should have done long ago if he’s being honest, but this is also the sort of thing that’s done better late than never.

When he hears Roman’s footsteps drawing nearer, Logan begins to sing without preamble, without waiting for Roman to be able to say anything at all. If he starts to talk, Logan will undoubtedly rethink a decision that has to be made. So he sings, losing himself in this final song.

“In the light that falls at moonrise,

In the rhythm of the rain,

In the miracle of ordinary days.

In the hush of night,

I will be in the whispers of lovers

Everywhere

You will find me there.”

Roman silently picks his way over the remain rocks before him, his feet navigating the path deftly in a testament to how often he’s been here. He sits down quietly in front of Logan, listening to the song spun just for him with everything Logan has left to give woven into it.

“In the rustle of a curtain,

In the bustle of the world,

In a thousand little unexpected ways.

When you lift your gaze,

I will be like the shimmer of one small star

Out there

Shining everywhere.”

As of this moment, Roman is enraptured by Logan’s voice, unable to fully comprehend the lyrics and their meaning. One day though, he will realize what they mean and hopefully, he will understand. By then though, Logan will be long gone. So perhaps that doesn’t matter at all.

“I will be there,

Beside you

Through the lonely nights that fall.

So close your eyes,

Remember my embrace.

I will be there,

Like mercy

I will find you through it all.

This do I swear:

I will be there.”

Just as he had with the very first song he’d sung for Roman, Logan allows him the knowledge of the lyrics to reply with, if he so chooses. Since the song is curated by the sirens’ magic for one person and one person alone, Roman would not know the lyrics on his own. And since Logan has grown to know Roman as an incredibly dramatic person, he knows that he will seize any chance to sing and show off. Tonight is no different.

“In a language never spoken

Lived the promises we made,

In the endless love that owns me, heart and soul.

In the certainty I will always be true

And as near as my next prayer,

You will find me there.”

Logan has to remind himself then that he’s still the siren, not Roman. If he were to be asked though, Logan would have claimed without hesitation that Roman’s voice is the more beautiful one, the most beautiful one he’s ever heard. Truly, it’s no wonder that he’d fallen for this man so easily.

“In the echo of the ocean,

In the haunting of the wind,

In mysterious, extraordinary ways.

Through the darkest sky,

I will be like the shimmer of one small star

Out there,

Shining everywhere.

“I will be there,

Beside you

Through the lonely nights that fall.

So close your eyes,

Remember my embrace.

I will be there,

Like freedom

I will find you through it all.

This do I swear:

I will be there.”

After Roman’s chorus, there’s the bridge of the song, a bridge that requires the two of them to alternate lines and shape this into an even more lovely duet. The chorus after it follows the same format, and Logan nearly swoons as he realizes how much he’s going to be able to hear Roman’s voice.

“In the harbor quarter.”

“In the stone and mortar.”

Just as he had in Roman’s chosen duet the second time they’d met, Logan allows Roman’s voice to overpower his as they sing together, “In the star that we both share.”

Roman again takes the lead in the next line, “In the sound of laughter.”

“Now and ever after.”

The final part of the song allows their voices to intertwine again, overlapping and harmonizing. Logan is intensely grateful to his magic for choosing such a perfect final song.

“Look for me, I will be there.

I will be there,

Beside you

Through the lonely nights that fall.

So close your eyes.”

“Remember my embrace.”

“I will be there.”

“I’ll be there.” Roman’s line is shortened slightly so he can catch up to Logan and they are able to sing in unison again.

“Like justice,

I will find you through it all.”

“This do I swear.”

“I will be there.”

“This do I swear,

I will be there.”

For one final time, Logan and Roman’s voices are lifted in ethereal harmony.

“This do I swear,

I will be there.”

As the last note hangs in the air, Logan smiles softly, nearly forgetting why he’d brought Roman here in the first place. But he doesn’t forget when he sees Roman’s eyes on him, glittering in the light of the moon. He remembers why he has to leave, no matter how much his heart may break. So Logan leans forward, resting his forehead against Roman’s in an action that’s as feather-light and loving as a siren’s touch could possibly be.

”Goodbye,” Logan whispers, the word barely a breath on the wind as he leans infinitesimally closer to Roman. For the first time, he connects their lips.

There are no sparks, and the world hasn’t become suddenly perfect. It just feels right. There’s no heat behind the action, just a gentle expression of everything Logan could never possibly say himself. The kiss is soft and short and given time, it could become so much more.

But there’s no time left for them. The only thing Logan can do is whisper another goodbye before sealing his words in place with a second, final kiss. He leans back, and the smile he gives Roman is a sad one.

Wishing he could do anything but this, Logan turns from the man he’s fallen in love with and vanishes into the water with a flick of his tail. Then he’s gone.

---

taglist: @thewhiteraven73

#ts sides #roman sanders #logan sanders #logince #sanders sides au #siren au #fantasy au #roman angst #logan angst #sanders sides secret santa 2019 #kissing #unhappy ending #angst #fanfic #song of a siren au #fic.txt

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ask-gijinka-creationtrio · 5 years

Text

clarification on that bit on gender and contemplations on other stuff

If anyone actually bothers to read this lmao

Dialga: This question was pretty much inevitable.

Palkia: I’m honestly fine with being referred to as an “it”.

Giratina: Why the hell should we worry about “it” being “dehumanizing” when we’re not human to begin with?

Something that I knew would eventually get brought up is the genders of my interpretation of the trio. The simple answer is encapsulated in the prev post: they’re dragon gods. Gender is a societal construct; sex is for reproduction. Legendary entities that represent the fundamental laws of the universe don’t really have a need for either society or reproduction. So as with the games, they’re all officially non-binary/genderless.

That said, my designs gravitate towards one or the other. One reason is that i’m not creative, bold, inspired, or talented enough to really translate that genderless attribute into humanoid form. Another is that someone pointed out to me a while ago that Palkia has a low waist-hip ratio, stiletto clawed feet, and some designs will feature a more prominent chest. That and the gendered color-coding Pokemon started doing with blue males and red/pink females, like with the menu screens starting from Gen III, the Eon Duo, Jellicent in Gen V, and Team Skull Grunts in Gen VII.

That said, I’m not a huge fan of these reasons, as you could also make the counterargument that Palkia looks somewhat phallic. So I kinda wanna get into an Extended Rant™ on why I choose to depict my OCs the way, even though no one probably cares lmao

It starts out with the Kanji/Hanzi for “Universe”: 宇宙, Uchū in Japanese and Yǔzhòu in Chinese. You might recall it if you’ve read Pokemon Adventures.

You might also remember if you visited that one dude on Route 228 in Diamond and Pearl who gets yeeted out of his house by Cyrus’s contrite grandfather by the time Platinum rolls around. Okay, realistically, barely anyone probably does (that guy wasn’t that memorable), but he basically says the same thing as Cyrus in the panels above: 宇宙, coined by the ancient Taoists, esoterically means something like “the totality of extension” + “the totality of duration”. In other words, the ancient Japanese/Chinese word for “universe” is lit. “space” + “time”. This is actually a somewhat obscure, unnecessary detail that even many native speakers seem to be unaware of. It also ties in heavily with the Yin-Yang 陰陽 of Taoism.

I know Taoism is more a Gen V theme, but it’s a concept implicit throughout the franchise, hence games generally come in twos, sharing complementary/opposing or dualistic/dichotomic themes. Even trios tend to have the third member as the odd one out or mediator. There’s much more to the Yin-Yang than just Truth/Ideals and I sorta wish Game Freak would explore it more to really unite the franchise as a whole around the interconnected theme of both diversity and harmony.

The Yin-Yang isn’t strictly about Truth/Ideals as much as it is about the fundamentally dualistic nature of existence and the oneness implicit in the inseparability of coexisting complementary concepts. Thus, truth and ideals are two sides of the same coin, as are time and space as relativity revealed. The Yin-Yang is vague enough to basically be an umbrella representation term for any complementary duality. It should be noted that the feminine Yin and masculine Yang don’t refer to stereotypical/conventional notions of femininity or masculinity, but rather requires an abstract interpretation.

The Yin-Yang is composed of an active component, and a passive/reflective/receptive one. More easily understood in that one aspect creates the body and the other gives it life. One which shapes/nurtures/mothers being and one which animates/directs/fathers it. Abstract interpretations of the feminine Mother and masculine Father follow suit. As do dualistic concepts like particle and wave, existence and essence, ovum and sperm, object/entity and idea/concept, magnitude and direction, defense and offense, nature/tradition and technology/advancement (Gen I & Gen II), space and time (Gen IV), truth and ideals (Gen V), night/moon and day/sun (Gen VII), and shields and swords i guess (Gen VIII).

I excluded Gen III because among the classical elements, earth and water are both traditionally considered reflective/feminine, with fire and air being active/masculine, but i suppose if you factor in Primal Reversion in Gen VI, it works. With the Aura Trio, I read something unrelated but interesting about how apparently Ohmori Shigeru hinted at parallels between the Weather Trio and Aura Trio. Can’t find the source though. Blue - Seas were the first (Alpha) source of Life; Red - fiery, desolate Lands signify the Death of all in the end (Omega); Green - Order/Balance mediates between two forces of nature that can be malevolent/chaotic left unchecked, with the trio master possessing abilities that cancel out the other two.

Going off the rails a bit more, speaking of color-parallels, there’s probably going to be one of the subtractive colors between Gen VIII and the (highly probable) Gen IV remakes this generation, with Cyan - Dialga, Azelf, Lucas’ accents, Za-cian; Magenta - Palkia, Mesprit, Dawn’s accents, Za-mazenta; Yellow - Giratina, Uxie, Barry’s accents, whoever the third member of the Gen VIII mascot/box art legendary trio is going to be. I wonder how they’re going to incorporate the parallels tho

Anyway I digress. The ancient Daoists associated feminine Yin with 宇/Space and masculine Yang with 宙/Time by virtue of insisting the feminine aspect precedes, but even disregarding that, Space fits in with the Yin criteria of that which represents the body and Time fits in with the Yang criteria of that which initiates life.

So while they’re genderless, Dialga represents the concept of masculinity and Palkia femininity in their most pure, abstract, and universal form according to the Dao. While this doesn’t make Dialga a dudebro and Palkia whatever the hell the feminine equivalent is, in my mind, Palkia has a strong maternal instinct and Dialga is very much a dad. Giratina is weird chaotic goth aunt/uncle who gives u ur first taste of alcohol just to spite grandpa and reads fanfiction with candles and a glass of wine like it’s a fucking literary hour.

That’s my logic and explanation behind it anyhow. The distinction goes something like Palkia will concern itself more with the state or properties of something (who, what, where) whereas Dialga will concern itself more with the role or activity of it (when, why, how). As time and space are, however, they’re deeply intertwined and cannot be separated.

I might move this bit to a separate post somewhere down the line since this has already dragged on long enough, but I’ll share some thoughts on Giratina here and tie it in with the overarching topic of assigning gender roles lol. According to Game Freak, Giratina represents antimatter, but there are some inconsistencies. I know this shit has to be taken with a grain of salt because of Pokemon logic/science and whatever, but I gave it some thought regardless. My personal headcanon is that Altered Giratina represents dark matter/energy and Origin Giratina represents antimatter. Whatever tf Gira represents in Pokemon lore is based on a combination of the two, with the Reverse/Distortion World probably alluding to the idea of an anti-universe. Antimatter and dark matter are not really the same thing, but they’re both trippy cosmic constructs that sound somewhat similar, so ¯\_(ツ)_/¯ . I wanted to make a distinction because while antimatter doesn’t distort spacetime any more than normal matter, it’s speculated that dark matter (actually dark energy) does, and is responsible for the rapid expansion of the universe.

This would also go along nicely with Gira complementing the the Spacetime twins while also complementing Arceus. It would also fit as justification for Giratina having to switch from Origin to Altered Forme upon entering the universe presided over by Dialga and Palkia, not because of the shift in spacetime stability, but rather due to the violent, annihilating reaction that occurs when matter and antimatter come into contact with one another. It’s by no means a perfect resolution hc, but it is one that I’ve gotten attached to.

Anyhoo, I designed Giratina to appear more androgynous (or at least attempted to). However, going by that masculine active/feminine reflective duality highlighted in the Yin-Yang, Origin Gira, with antimatter a reflection of normal matter, appears a bit more feminine-androgynous, whereas Altered Gira, with dark matter an active driving force for the expansion of the universe, appears a bit more masculine-androgynous (though iirc it hasn’t shown up yet and i’m not too great with consistency regardless). That was my idea behind it in any case. Origin Gira wears a binder under that big dastardly overcoat. i guess it’s technically genderfluid.

Digressing a bit, but another artistic choice was the skin tone of the trio. 0 points for subtlety on my part, but the color is Cosmic Latte, the average color of the universe. Like that bit on gender, I wanted to base it on some aspect of reality. I juggled between that and pure black with stars for freckles, but in the end i’m a lazy piece of shit who cuts corners for a living, so i settled on Primordial Clam Chowder because it was easier lmao. that’s why they pasty af

Anyways, if you have any design ideas or you wanna see a member of the trio in another form, feel free to submit your ideas or a magic anon or whatever!

TL;DR tbh this wasn’t even a structured rant it was just me going off the rails and sharing random useless deetz. this isn’t even a tl;dr. what the fuck

#might try to finish that cover image #well it's not like i edited much to begin with #pokemon #hc #gijinka #dialga #palkia #giratina #text #ask blog #analysis #long rant #pokemon analysis #sinnoh #gen iv

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we-pay-for-everything · 5 years

Text

Happy International Women’s Day!

Despite identifying as a feminist since my teenage years, I’ve never actually cared about International Women’s Day. It was always just my grandma’s b-day! Today, however, I found myself wanting to celebrate it in some way. I can only imagine how many women in dozens of countries had to fight for years until this day was created for them, and for all women who came before and after them. I shamefully confess that I don’t know much about Women’s History (which I shall rectify!). I’m still finding out what being a feminist means, and how best to be one. It’s a very complex issue, with many perspectives to consider. So, I can’t write a post about feminism, not in the strictest sense. It would be ignorant of me. My opinions are both defined and vague, lacking in facts to support them.

Instead of adding something “substantial” to the feminist discussion, I want to talk a little bit about fictional women. Because this blog is primarily Buffyverse, I thought I’d share some thoughts on female characters in general, and how that relates to feminism, using Buffyverse women as examples.

We often talk about “strong” female characters. Sometimes we say “strong and complex”. But I believe every woman is strong; strength is hard to define, and I believe we are all as strong as we can be. People who are considered “weak” are often just people who don’t believe in something enough to fight for it, or are just struggling to survive. We are all strong; strength looks different in everyone. We don’t know what goes on in another person’s mind; what the circumstances and the reasoning behind their actions are; how their biology influences those actions. We don’t get to call someone “weak”. “Strong” people are often lucky enough to have achieved or overcome something that “weak” people were never given the chance to achieve or overcome in the first place.

But “strong” female characters aren’t just emotionally strong. Often, they are physically strong. They don’t cry much. They’re beautiful. Essentially, they are what society wants women to be. “Strong” means impossibly perfect, attractive, “badass”... It’s part of our mainstream feminism, this idea that “strong” women have to be successful in their careers, wear the perfect shade of lipstick, be the perfect combination of assertive and humble. In real life, women like Beyoncé or Ariana Grande are “strong” women; they’re successful, feminine, beautiful, and outspoken. And this is what us, women, want to be. It’s not enough to be strong, or beautiful, or successful. We need to have it all. Mainstream feminism is the kind of feminist that both men and women can stomach. It goes down easy. Who doesn’t like beautiful, successful women that don’t rock the boat? Capitalism loves this feminism. It sells “women are the future” t-shirts made in sweatshops by underpaid women (woc, usually). Feminism in pop culture is about believing powerful, rich women are inherently more feminist than regular women because they rub elbows with rich, powerful men, in the capitalist men’s club. They made it! They are part of the problem now.

And how does this relate to the Buffyverse? Maybe it doesn’t. This is supposed to be a feminist post after all! But like many of you, I’m tired of “strong” female characters. It implies that not all women are strong, and leaves out the fact that “strong” usually means “hot”, “young”, and “badass”. Many Buffyverse female characters are “strong”. They’re young, gorgeous, badasses, who also happen to be emotionally resilient, assertive, passionate. I have nothing against beautiful women. But we can’t all be conventionally attractive. Women should be allowed to be ugly without feeling ugly, without being defined by our ugliness. Men have this privilege. We don’t. Let’s step away from this narrative of “strong” female characters and choose instead to talk about “complex” female characters, ie., women with full backstories, with tons of flaws and qualities, who don’t have to prove how strong they are because it’s assumed already. Unsurprisingly, most “strong” female characters aren’t all that complex.

The Buffyverse writers were always aware of their feminist credentials. They tried to write “strong” women who were also complex. To be honest, they mainly succeeded. Except “strong” women need to prove their strength. And so women in the Buffyverse are abused, humiliated, put through the wringer time and time again, to prove they are, indeed, strong. “Feminist” characters – strong female characters with important roles and lives outside of men – are created through an inherently sexist process. Men are always assumed to be strong. They don’t have to prove that they’re layered and that their lives don’t revolve around women. But female characters need to prove that they’re different from other female characters, that real women can look up to them.

Oh, how I long for ugly female characters! For women who don’t wear perfect makeup and clothing at all times! For women with ugly flaws, who are relatable nonetheless. If your character isn’t relatable in some way, then it’s not a good character! Us, human beings, share more similarities than differences. There’s always something that unites us. Why is it that “strong” female characters aren’t always relatable? Villains are often more relatable because they are allowed to be ugly on the inside. Villains are selfish, usually ambitious, manipulative. And so are we! We are all selfish. We all fail ourselves and others lots of times. Lilah Morgan will always be my favorite Buffyverse woman because she was allowed to be dark and ugly on the inside. She was selfish, intelligent, cruel. She didn’t live to please people. She was despicable and admirable. She was complex, and beautiful, and “strong”, but she was also a “bitch”. You know a female character is good when a man calls her a “bitch”. A “bitch” doesn’t care what men want or think. They’re dangerous to their egos.

I initially wanted to write a post to celebrate female characters. Buffy, Willow, Lilah, Faith, Kendra, Dawn, Fred, Anya, Tara, Cordelia, Anne, Jenny, Kate… even Justine, Eve, Harmony, etc. But these strong female characters were mainly written and created by men. And thus I couldn’t talk about how much I loved them without first mentioning how I wish they had been written differently...

I wished they hadn’t suffered so much. I wish they hadn’t been martyred. I wish they hadn’t been slut-shamed. I wish they’d been written by more women. I wish they’d been more diverse. I wish they’d had better endings. I wish I could see more of myself in them. I wish they could’ve been complex and engaging without having to be beautiful and “strong”. And I also wish Sarah Michelle Gellar hadn’t been forced to wear uncomfortable heels and clothing, even during challenging fight scenes, just because “strong” women are also conventionally feminine and stylish. I wish Joss Whedon hadn’t potentially taken advantage of what he called the “beautiful, needy, aggressive young women” on his set. I wish better for all women. I hope we can do better now.

#international women's day #btvs #ats #anti joss whedon #about me #this is the most personal and unusual post on this blog #I thought it was great when I first wrote it #and now it doesn't make any sense #I have often called my favorite female characters strong so I hope I don't come across as an hypocrite #it's a different kind of strong #this post makes no sense #sorry

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existentialexitwounds · 3 years

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https://www.facebook.com/groups/endagingnow/permalink/3885484891531951/?comment_id=3889445721135868&reply_comment_id=3890475787699528¬if_id=1616788078630079&ref=notif¬if_t=group_comment_mention

Jed LyeThey are quite clearly both componenets of a multifacted phenomena that occurs with ageing. Stephen Montogomery of Stanford University put out a paper in 2018/19 which provided evidence that ageing has both environmental and genetic/epigenetic components. There's a biological ageing 'program' which includes epigenetic, transcriptomic changes etc, and then theres genuine damage accrual. An accellerated program of ageing can be observed, an at the end of this mortality flattens out again, we then age at a much slower rate once we reach around 80. This is when the biological program identified by Michael Rose et al. ends and generalised biological damage continues. It simply cannot be ignored the accumulating DNA matuations occurs, and we knw from genetics studies that mutations (can) cause dysfunction. We know from longitudinal cohort studies that DNA seq shows that individuals do indeed accumulate somatic cell mutations throughout life, and these mutations are not all corrected, because we can measure their increased presence. No matter the molecule, this age related accumulation of dysfunction seems ubiquitous. Try to not let any one person overstate the importance of their work. Be aware their careers depend on garnering support for their ideas. Ageing occurs in all the ways mentioned and some not yet publicly known.2Hide 15 Replies

Jac H-EsoYou're overlooking -- a lot.

Jed LyeJac H-Eso You're being deliberately vague in your responses to avoid any successful or meaningful challenge to your thinking, whilst contributing very little.

Jac H-EsoOkay, I'll save you the trouble. I was wrong. But I saved the response I wanted to post for what I'm working on.

Jed Lyeooooo cryptic.

Jac H-EsoEh, arguing with someone on the internet serves no useful purpose beyond a method of bouncing ideas around. Not into winning losing races.

Jed LyeWe needn't argue. You can contribute your ideas and we can exmine both sets of observations objectively and even come up with more value by doing so. There's no consequences of being wrong here except taking out the trash in our minds. So let's have it....what is being overlooked?

Jac H-EsoI was simply going to point out that mutations tend to be changes that in normal contexts fail if they aren't serving the system (as they would if ineffective in the macrocosm, except where overfitting crashes systems) unless those mutations are being driven by some unidentified outside mechanism. So there's an interaction that is being overlooked. I have a specific idea what this interaction is, but it's just conjecture, so it's more important I prove that before just throwing it out there.1

Jed LyeI'm not moved by deliberately abstract language, but you're right. There's clarification needed, but if you're saying what I think you're saying; I think you might be overlooking the death of the organism [which I take as evidence that they aren’t "serving the system"].The imperative for variance in these systems is on an evolutionary timeline, and as such a biological mechanism for inducing variation is requisite within the system.I suspect what you mean by overfitting is evolutionary harmony being reached by an organisms genome and its environment at an specific inflection point, but at the moment which environment shifts, the genome cannot adapt because it's "over fitted". A correct observation if this is indeed what you meant.Biologically speaking, the genomic drift of somatic cells from germline is built in for the species, the cell, and not for the individual. That being said, unfavorable environments accelerate mutations, likely through an evolutionary conserved mechanism which leads to accelerated adaptation.Perhaps genes turned on, epigenetically, become more susceptible to oxidate stress and thus mutation. This would explain why bacteria evolve around antibiotics faster than they should by chance.That's all well and good, and understanding this from an evolutionary perspective is wonderfully enlightening, but pragmatically it only serves as a small piece of the jigsaw.We can observe it to be true,we cannot yet stop it,we know it contributes to dysfunction (for proof read every Mendellian disease paper ever).So we must look to either clear it or repair it. Then, we still have only one small element processed. There's a whole body of other molecules which need addressing too.1

Jac H-EsoYou've got the gist of what I meant. Overfitting similar to in machine learning, over adapted to a certain circumstance to the point failure occurs with the introduction of new data or circumstances. So in the case of cancer cells, they act a bit like a machine learning model that has been overfitted to a narrow bandwidth or facet aspect of data. They're adapted to what they are doing but fail to take into account data or facet outside the one they're focused on and crash the system.

Jed LyeJac H-Eso mmm, it's useful language to describe biology to someone who maybe doesn't understand it, but, does it help us solve anything? Let's play the metaphor out, how would we solve that problem in a machine learning environment?

Jac H-EsoSometimes you've just got to prove some things, especially in science. My father has CLL and I likely inherited it.

Jed LyeIs a cancer cell really over-fitted? By modern understanding we would suggest they are at an earlier state of differentitation. Mimicking perhaps a model without enough runs. They have gone back up the evolutionary trail to become something closer to a stem cell, it's when the differentiate they become better fitted? I cant think of a biological example of an overfitted algorithm in a cellular level? maybe an overactive memory T-cell1

Jed LyeAhh I'm sorry to hear that, Cancer is everywhere.1

Jed LyeImmunosenescence. The memory compartment of the immune system grows, while the naïve compartment shrinks. This is much like what you mentioned...over fitting of the model. It just came to me while I was writing about the phenomena. That's all.

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Jed Lyeyou're flirting with a great many platitudes there without coming down on any hard science. But I appreciate the sentiment all the same.

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Jac

That would be a system imbalance with overfitting at the memory compartment if it were what was responsible for the system crash in that particular example. With the CLL example, a part of the immune system replicates unabated with decreasing functionality, crashing immune system functionality and eventually the human system via inefficiency in regards to the whole data structure of an organism. (Much like overfitting in machine learning being due to errant neurons monopolizing data selection outcomes though ineffective outside a narrow bandwidth of data and thus rendering the machine learning model ineffective.) And in general aging I think the tendency is for immune cells to lose their normal replication functionality due to an evolutionarily derived overfitting of a cancer prevention mechanism/telomeres. You've highlighted an important part of the mechanism that needs to be addressed within the aging process. The degradation of immune cells.

Certain viral, bacterial, and fungal populations have gene editing capacities and wear away at normal DNA and epigenetic functionality with time. Often they do this in order to sequester resource within a system. That's your outside vector. Likely this interaction confers some benefit to mutation in the evolutionary process, as mutagenic accelerants. Cancer happens with some alteration creating a cell that is overfit to a narrow bandwidth that doesn't fit the organism's needs

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