#and then...proceeded to almost never let them interact in canon. amazing

[ssscentral]

Traveller

Summary : Jung Hoseok loves you, regardless of what universe you’re in and he’s going to make sure to find you no matter what. Good thing you feel the same.

Pairing : Dimension Traveller!Jung Hoseok x Dimension Traveller!Reader

Genre : Fluff, Established Relationship!Au, Sci-Fi, Fantasy!Au, College!Au

Rating : PG13

Warnings : Swearing

Wc : 4.7k

Member : Hoebii || @hoebii

A/N : First of all, thank you @eatjeanjin and @kerikaaria for being my amazing betas! You’re what made this story even readable ukfhgj Second, HAPPY BIRTHDAY @moccahobi!!! ILYSM HOPE YOU HAVE A BLAST TODAY BB <3 I hope you like this fic, I literally crammed 12 prompts into this fic and made this hot mess in a few hours lmao so hope this isn’t too hard to read sksksksk. Love you lots Lil bean, happy birthday and thank you for existing, you’re such a precious bb, always there for everyone. You deserve the world, love <33 Also the time stamp for the text isn’t canon, so ignore the time!

-----------------

“You will be transported to a new dimension after spending one month in each of them for this experiment,” the animated voice crackled from the speakers. “The inhabitants in those universes will already have memories of you to help you blend in easily. You are to live a normal life during these experiments while making sure not to disclose your true identities for that may cause unnecessary complications.”

The voice kept going on about the experiment that you no longer had any interest in after the first few minutes. You fiddled with the necklace around your neck in boredom while you waited for the meeting to be adjourned. This wasn’t the first time you were going to travel between dimensions and you were sure it wouldn’t be the last, so having to sit through the same briefing over and over again felt completely useless and a waste of time. 

The only reason you even attended these were to get your files for the potential dimensions you may get sent to. The management really needed to get their shit in control and stop sending you to these places with little to no information. 

You understood that these experiments were to test out the stability and how each universe was doing after being created but it made no sense for the management to send out travellers blindly like they do, they could at least provide you with a little backstory for your character rather than a list of ’potential’ places. Even those weren’t certain and that made no sense! For an organisation that thrived to keep peace and regulation of all dimensions, their system was chaotic as fuck.

You only came out of your thoughts when you felt someone nudge your leg under the table. Glancing up from your necklace, your eyes met that of a cheeky looking Hoseok who was now pushing a little harder against your leg, now that he had your attention. 

‘Hi,’ he mouthed happily only for you to answer with a raised eyebrow. ‘I miss you,’ he mouthed again, jutting his lower lip out in a pout. You snorted at his antics, coughing to hide your smile when the sound caught the attention of those around you. 

It was only when they shifted their attention back to the screen at the end of the room to continue with the briefing that was ongoing, did you finally look back at Hoseok. Rolling your eyes, you grabbed a pen and tore a paper from the diary they provided for the meeting before hastily scribbling down something and sliding it to the man sitting in front of you.

‘We’re literally sitting in front of each other.’

Hoseok picked up the paper and quickly read the content on it before grabbing his own pen to write his answer down and passing it back to you.

‘But I can’t hold your hand right now :(‘

You bit your lip to stop the smile that was fighting to shine through when you saw his adorable handwriting under yours. How someone could be as endearing as Hoseok was beyond you, but you loved that about him.

Wordlessly, you pretended to pay attention to the briefing once more while you slid your hand towards Hoseok to let him hold your hand. You could feel the way his smile brightened when his fingers intertwined with yours, squeezing it gently.

You shook your head as you bit your lips harder to fight the smile that was now on your face when you squeezed his hand back.

-----------------

Walking out of the conference room, your hand was still engulfed by Hoseok’s bigger one. Your face was flushed in embarrassment as you walked out. It wasn’t because you were holding his hand, but rather the fact that he never let go after the meeting was over. So you had to walk from your seat to the end of the table with the said furniture in the middle of you as you walked. 

“If I didn’t love you as much as I do, I would’ve kicked your ass by now, just so you know,” you grumbled as you walked down the corridor towards your shared room. 

Hoseok laughed, his grip around your hand tightening as he bumped his shoulder with yours. “Good thing you love me then! It would be a nightmare to jump between dimensions with you otherwise.”

“Who said it’s still not a nightmare to have you as my partner?”

“Don’t be rude.”

“Make me,” you teased before quickly freeing your hand from his and running towards your destination.

“Come back here!”

-----------------

It was the day of action, as you liked to call it, the day when you were supposed to start experiments. 

“You ready?” Hoseok asked as he came to join you in the transport chamber.

“Ready as I’ll ever be.”

“Promise to find each other no matter what?” he asked while putting his pinky finger out, smiling at you.

You laughed as you wrapped yours around his. “Of course.”  

“I’ll see you around then.”

You only hummed in agreement before pressing the power button on the transport bracelet and the world went dark.

-----------------

You woke up to the blaring alarm of your phone, blindly looking for the device to turn the godforsaken sound off. When you failed to find it, you pushed yourself up from your bed to scan the area, getting more irked the longer the sound went on. 

Finally, your eyes landed on the black vibrating phone on the ground and you had half a mind to just stomp on the damn thing and break it. Picking it up, you harshly tapped on the stop button and sighed when the apartment went quiet, closing your eyes to bask in the peace. 

Wait. Apartment? 

Your eyes shot open again as you examined your surroundings, trying to decipher which universe you were in currently. The place seemed like any other average looking apartment in a bustling city. You unlocked your phone when you felt it vibrate in your hand, realising it was a text from someone saved as ‘Chicky Chimmy’. 

Opening the conversation, your confusion only grew at the text.

“I’m a student, huh?” You pondered as you grabbed a random outfit for the day along with what you assumed to be your books on the reading table in your room. You then proceeded to head down and out of your apartment. “Could’ve been worse.”

-----------------

Stepping out of the elevator, you saw your… friend impatiently leaning against his car looking at you with displeasure all over his face. You gave him a sheepish smile as you approached him, praying to whatever higher power that he says his name for one reason or another. From the previous conversations you had after taking some time to go through your phone, the two of you were supposed to be best friends so you weren’t in a position to ask his name.

“Y/N our class starts in 30 minutes and it takes 30 minutes to get there!”

“Hehe?”

He faced palm, moving to go around to the driver's seat. “Just get your cute butt inside.”

----------------

The moment Chimmy parked his car inside the university, he dashed out of the car with you close behind, panicking about how mad the professor was going to be for being late.

You almost bumped into him when he stopped in front of a classroom, shooting you a nervous glance before slowly stepping inside the class. The two of you couldn’t even get two steps in before the voice of the man teaching the class boomed across the room.

“Y/L/N Y/N and Park Jimin. Late again, I see?”

Again? How many times have we been late before? Jimin’s a cute name though, perfect for him. You smiled slightly at your thoughts before fixing your expression to be neutral before the professor could catch you. 

“We’re so sorry professor! This will be the last time!” Jimin pleaded, fidgeting on his spot.

“That’s what you said last time, Mr. Park,” the professor replied, looking unamused.

“Pro-”

“I’m so sorry I’m late!” A new voice joins, the person who barged in after the two of you hunched over and panting from surely having run to class.

“Mr. Jung Hoseok, I did not expect such tardiness from you.”

Hoseok! You felt your heart rate kick up just at the mention of his name. It’s not often the higher ups make it easy to find your partner but it seemed that they were feeling courteous this time.

Hoseok’s eyes met yours and he flashed you a giant smile, one that had his eyes turning into crescents before looking back at the professor with a dashin smile. “I’m sorry sir, it surely won’t happen again.”

The professor sighed, rolling his eyes when he looked back at Jimin and you before muttering, “That’s what they always say.” Shaking his head, the professor gave a small nod. “Go to your seats and don’t be late again. Especially the two of you, Miss Y/L/N and Mr. Park.”

Jimin bowed before grabbing your hand and dragging you to the back of the room, taking a seat and patting the one beside him urgently. Glancing at Hoseok one last time, you sat beside Jimin. 

You couldn’t help but pout at the sight of Hoseok sitting somewhere else and already interacting with the strangers around him as if he knew them for a long time. He was always a social butterfly but it was always shocking to see him get accustomed to new universes so easily.

“You look amazing today, just so you know,” Jimin whispered in your ear, his eyes trained on the board even as he spoke.

“Thanks.”

-----------------

It was lunch time and Jimin had basically dragged you to the cafe near the university, claiming that cheap and instant coffee was the only thing his body needed to go through the day. 

“Coffee is great and all but you need actual food too, you know,” you nagged Jimin as he downed his second cup of coffee in one sitting.

Placing the brown coffee cup down, Jimin raised his index finger as if giving a speech. “People need a lot of things, doesn’t mean they have it though.”

You gave Jimin an unimpressed look. “Stop trying to be a philosopher and get some food in you, tiny.”

“I’m literally taller than you.”

“I will fight you, Park Jimin.”

----------------

“I still don’t get why we need to do this,” you grumbled as you stretched your hands and legs.

“Because,” Jimin said, dribbling the orange basketball as he waited for you to finish. “Warming up is important before starting any exercise to decrease the chances of pulling a muscle or something.”

You snort at that, stretching one last time before dropping your hands. “You make it sound like I’m going to exercise.”

“Y/N we’re literally in PE class.”

“And?”

Jimin could only give you an unamused look before shaking his head in defeat, his newly dyed pink hair bouncing from his movement. 

-----------------

You were sitting in the library surrounded by textbooks for the upcoming exam when you felt someone pull out the chair in front of you and take a seat. Paying them no mind, you continued drowning yourself with new information from the book when you felt someone nudge your leg under the table.

You glanced up from the textbook in front of you to see none other than Jung Hoseok sitting in front of you with a smile. Just before you could shoot him a smile and delve into a conversation, your brain reminded you of the fact that it had been a week since you came to this dimension and this the first time he tried to come talk to you after seeing each other in that one class on day one. 

Scoffing, you looked back down at your book, ignoring the way he nudged your leg again to get your attention.

“Are you mad at me?” He finally asked when he realised that you were ignoring him.

“What do you think?”

“What did I dooooo?”

You slammed the pink covered book in your hand shut, looking him in the eye. “What did you do? Oh I don’t know, maybe because you basically ignored me for a week? Acted as if I don’t exist?”

Hoseok frowned, trying to take your hand in his but you moved away from him. “I’m sorry baby. I’ve just been so swamped with work. Did you know I’m the dance club leader and a part of the student council in this universe? I swear I would’ve come up to you earlier if I had the time!”

“I tried talking to you a few days back, you acted as if you didn’t even know me,” you replied, not being able to hide the hurt from your tone. “You didn’t seem busy then, you were just having lunch and laughing with your friends.” 

“Baby…”

You sighed, pushing away the chair and standing up. “Forget it, I’ll see you around, Hoseok.” Collecting your books, you gave Hoseok one last look before walking away.

-----------------

You were currently playing with the dog Jimin recently adopted on his couch when he plopped down beside you with snacks. You had come over for movie night but now you were more interested in playing with his dog than the movie.

“So you going to tell me why the Jung Hoseok has been following you around like a lovesick puppy for the past week?”

“No, because there’s nothing to say,” you replied, not paying much attention due to the energetic puppy that was jumping about on your lap.

Jimin groaned, placing the bowl of snack down on the coffee table and then taking the chocolate coloured labrador puppy away from you - much to your protest. “Stop playing with Doggo and give me the tea!”

“I still can’t believe you named your dog Doggo.”

“That is not the main topic of this conversation and you know it!”

You sighed, rolling your eyes so hard that your head hurt a little. “There’s nothing to say, Hoseok and I talked in the library when I was studying for the test and then had a little argument and I left.”

Jimin scoffed, his lips pulling into a pout as he crossed his arms. “That’s the weakest tea I’ve ever gotten. Give me the details! Since when do you two know each other enough to be having ‘fights’?”

“I-” you stuttered, trying to come up with an excuse. “We don’t! He just approached me in the library and I found him really annoying.”

Jimin gave you a skeptical look. “Y/N… You’ve had a crush on him for like a year now. You find him annoying?”

“Yes?” You answered, though it sounded more like a question. “What do you want me to say something like ‘Oh we’re actually dimension travellers and know each other from before and this is all just an experiment? Don’t be ridiculous!” You rambled, laughing nervously when you realised that you had basically just exposed yourself.

“Huh?”

“Listen! I liked him but he’s actually annoying, so that’s over.”  

“If you say so…” Jimin conceded hesitantly, still looking at you skeptically which now looked more concerned.

-----------------

You had successfully avoided Hoseok like the plague for almost the remainder of the time you had in this dimension. You knew what you were doing was petty and it really wasn’t his fault that he couldn’t come talk to you at first, but now you were in too deep to stop being petty. Not that it stopped Hoseok from trailing after you anytime he could, trying to get you to talk to him.

“Y/N, please stop!” You heard Hoseok call from behind you but you kept walking, ignoring him like you usually did. “Oh for fuck sake,” you heard him grumble before you felt someone grab you by your wrist and twirling you around for their lips to press against yours.

You were about to push them off when you realised that it was Hoseok who had kissed you, not a random person and you unconsciously melted into it. Your arms slithered around his neck to pull him closer as his hands wrapped around your waist to move closer to you too.

Breaking the kiss, Hoseok pressed his forehead against yours while looking you in the eyes. “It’s the last day here before we move on and who knows how long it’s going to take us to find each other there. Stop being mad, please?”

Not being able to help yourself, you placed a kiss on his nose, stepping away from him and smiling cheekily. “I’ll see you around, Hoseok.”

-----------------

“YOU KISSED HOSEOK IN FRONT OF THE WHOLE CORRIDOR! OH MY GOD I NEED THE DETAILS!” Jimin exclaimed when you met up with him after school. He was your ride home after all. 

You only laughed, your face flushed in embarrassment. “Uh huh, how about I tell you all about it tomorrow?”

“Promise?” He asked, looking at you in disappointment that he couldn’t get you to tell him everything right then.

You shook your head, looking away from him. “We’ll see.” 

No point in making a promise that you knew you couldn’t keep it. You were going to leave tonight, who knows if you’ll ever come back here or if he would ever remember you once you left.

-----------------

The next time you opened your eyes, you were underwater. At first, panic took over you from the possibility of you drowning. But when you opened your mouth, rather than feeling the water rushing in and suffocating you, you found out that you were completely fine.

“Huh?” You blurted out Your eyes widened when you realised that you could hear yourself clearly underwater too. Looking around, your eyes zeroed in on the shimmering tail that began from your waist down. “HUH?!”

You looked around only to see nothing but water, a few fish swam by you but that was about it. It wasn’t your first time in a fairytale universe but it was your first time being a mermaid. You wondered if Hoseok got transformed into some sort of mythical creature like you too. 

“Oh well, I hope he’s safe.”

-----------------

You didn’t know how much time passed but you were still blindly swimming around trying to find out where to go. You had breached the water at one point and sat on some rocks by a beach in true fairytale mermaid fashion but even then you found nothing of interest. You did get to sit and watch the clear blue waves peacefully for a while but that got boring after some time, too.

“I never thought I’d miss wearing sandals but here I am,” you sighed to yourself before jumping back into the water.

You were just about ready to give up and just sit on the sea bed when you saw a cave underwater. You couldn’t help but snort at how similar this felt to the fairytale ‘Little Mermaid’ you used to read when you were younger. All you needed was some evil old witch to be residing in there and a prince charming to drown some time soon so you could save him and lose your voice.

Having nothing better to do, you began swimming down to the cave to explore it when you felt someone grab you and drag you away from the cave entrance urgently. 

“What the fuck? What are you doing, let me go!” You exclaimed as you tried to wiggle free from your captor.

“Stop struggling, you’re going to get us caught by the hag!” A deep voice harshly whispered in your ear. 

The mention of a hag had you stop struggling. “Caught by the what now?”

You felt your captor loosen their grip around you, giving you the perfect chance to move away from them. You turned to come face to face with a beautiful man… er merman? 

“The hag? Evil sea witch out to get merfolks?” the man asked, looking at you incredulously at the fact that you seemingly had no idea as to who the hag was. “Are you new here? I haven’t seen you before.”

“I guess you could say that. I’ve been swimming for ages now and you’re the first creature I found,” you explained.

The man hummed, tapping his lips as he scanned you over before breaking out into a large boxy smile. “Well then, nice to meet you! I’m Taehyung, what’s your name?”

“Y/N.”

Taehyung gasped when he heard your name. “Y/N? As in Y/L/N Y/N?”

“Why do you know my name?” You asked cautiously. Fuck, were you supposed to know who he was? If that was the case then why were you transported away from them, also he didn’t seem to know you before you introduced yourself.

“Princess! Welcome!”

Excuse me, WHAT?! You choked on nothing. “Who?”

“You! Princess! Welcome!”

When you were thinking about this universe being a knock-off ‘Little Mermaid’ universe, you didn’t think that would be the right assumption. 

Not knowing how to act, you shot Taehyung an awkward smile, waving a little. “Thank you?”

“You have to meet the others! Let’s go, princess!” Taehyung exclaimed excitedly before grabbing your hand and swimming away from the cave.

-----------------

After Taehyung had brought you to others, you met 5 other mermen - each almost unimaginably beautiful. It was a pleasant surprise to see this dimension’s Jimin, he was just as sweet and excitable as the one before.

After the initial meet-up, you got to know that you were indeed the daughter of Triton - something that had you laughing at the absurdity for a good five minutes much to the confusion of others - and you were supposed to be visiting ‘your kingdom’ to get acquainted with everyone before your coronation and living here.

As Taehyung had escorted you to your room, you had joked that all you needed was a handsome man to drown so you could save him. Which, in hindsight may have been a very weird thing to say from the look Taehyung gave you. 

Currently, you were exploring the kingdom, asking people if they knew of anyone by the name Hoseok, only to end up with no clue as to where he might be. No one had any idea about Jung Hoseok and you were getting worried about not managing to find him.

Lost in your thoughts, you didn’t realise that you had left the premises of the city and wandered away. You stopped in your tracks when a giant shadow moved above you, completely leaving you in the dark. 

You looked up to see what blocked the sun when you realised you were directly underneath two ships, the sound of fighting barely audible under the water but present nevertheless. Curiosity getting the best of you, you cautiously swam up to peak above at what was going on, only to find that a full on war was ongoing between the two ships. 

“Damn, am I in a Grimm Brothers Fairytale or the Pirates of The Caribbean movie right now?”

You didn’t have much time to ponder, however, because you noticed someone eerily similar to Hoseok going overboard and you dove underwater for him.

“I swear if that’s actually Hoseok, I’m going to lose my mind.”

Catching the sinking body, you almost wanted to let him go so you could swim over and slam your head against a rock when you realised, it was indeed Hoseok. 

Muttering a few curses under your breath, you proceeded to drag Hoseok towards the beach close by to make sure he didn’t drown before you could give him a piece of your mind.

-----------------

Hoseok sat up abruptly, his nose, throat and eyes burning as he coughed violently. “Mother of bitch, that’s salty,” he spoke, his voice hoarse from almost drowning.

“Of course it is! What were you doing on a pirate ship?!” You exclaimed, hitting his thigh with your palm.

“Y/N?” He asked, his eyes widening when he realised that it was you in front of him.

“The one and only.”

“Oh thank goodness you’re alright!” Hoseok exclaimed, pulling you to his chest and resting his head on top of yours after placing a kiss there.

“You didn’t answer my question,” you said, your voice muffled by his chest from the way he held you close.

“Hm? What was your question?” He asked, letting you go to face you properly. 

“What were you doing on a pirate ship?” 

“Ah! I’m the captain!”

“What? Why don’t I get to be badass characters like you,” you whined looking away from him petulantly. 

“You don’t need a character to be badass, you’re a natural one!” He happily answered, grabbing your chin to make you face him. “You look beautiful baby, but how’d you find me?”

“Are you telling me that you didn’t notice this huge ass tail I have?”

Looking down at your words, his eyes widened, voice rising in pitch with his excitement. “Oh my god you have a tail! You’re a mermaid!”

“Gee? Am I?! Wow Hoseok, thank you for enlightening me!” You mocked his excitement. You didn’t want to act so short with him but the adrenaline running through your body after basically finding the one you love drowning had your brain going haywire.

“Are you mad at me again?”

“I don’t know, Hoseok. Am I?”

“You know I don’t choose the roles I get!”

You sighed, feeling guilty for the way you acted towards him. “I know, it’s just. At first I couldn’t find you anywhere and when I did, you were drowning and it just fucked me up. I know I was joking about how I’m Ariel from Little Mermaid and I need to save a drowning prince but this was not what I was expecting.”

Understanding as ever, Hoseok gave you a sad smile before pulling you back into his embrace again, running his hand through your hair in the way he knew you loved. “It’s okay, I understand. I’d be worried too if I were you, just don’t be mad at me, you know I hate it when you’re mad at me.”

“‘M sorry.”

“Can I have a kiss?” he asked after the two of you basked in each other’s warmth for a moment. 

You pulled back from him, scrunching your nose at him, feeling shy when you noticed how intensely he was looking at you. Grabbing the collar of the shirt he was wearing, you pulled him down for a kiss, pouring out all your emotions into it - from how much you cared for him to how sorry you were for the way you acted. You hoped that he would understand. 

Hoseok kissed you back with just as much emotion, pulling you close and smiling into the kiss. Breaking away from it, he gave you a blinding smile, one that had your heart melting like butter. 

“I love you,” you whispered, afraid that speaking any louder would make you break from all the emotions that were rushing through your heart.

“I love you too. I need to go now, can see my ship coming towards us.”

You nodded, not really processing his words, too busy staring at his gorgeous face. Hoseok realised the fact you didn’t pay attention to his words, making him smile wider. Waving a hand in front of your face, Hoseok chuckled when you seemed as if just coming out of a trance.

“Did you hear anything I just said?”

“Not really,” you shrugged.

Hoseok threw his head back in laughter. “I said, I can see my ship coming towards us as we speak so I reckon it’s time to leave, baby. I’ll make sure to come visit you here as much as I can in the time we’re here.”

“Promise?” You asked, offering your pinky to him as you looked at him through your lashes.

“Promise,” Hoseok answered, wrapping his finger around yours, giving you one last smile as he stood back up. 

“I’ll see you around, alright?”

“I’ll see you around.”

With that you swam back to the sea, waiting just out of sight to make sure that Hoseok was okay before actually leaving. 

You might travel to various places with no certainty of what you may face but one thing was for sure, you’d always find your way to Hoseok.

#jung hoseok x reader #j-hope x reader #jung hoseok fluff #j-hope fluff #bts jung hoseok x reader #bts j-hope x reader #thebtswritersclub #bangtaninn #castlebangtan #bts!au #bts fluff #jhs fluff

[secret-engima]

Lunafreya Nox Fleuret DoTF Characterization Rant

OKAY, ME RANT RAMBLING ON LUNA’S CHARACTERIZATION IN DAWN OF THE FUTURE IS A GO.

This is … likely going to get messy, but I’ll try to keep it at least moderately coherent. Lemme start by saying that- for the most part- I did actually enjoy Luna’s chap. I’ve been enjoying the book (kinda-sorta-mostly, I really liked Aranea’s chap at least) and I don’t think it’s like- a BAD book? Necessarily? But I feel like it is extremely telling in regards to how the characterization/lore is treated that my brain is automatically filing this thing under “fanfic that’s not my HC but is okay-ish” rather than “canon I will be gleefully tweaking as I please”. My brain is literally looking at this officially licensed book and equating it to fanfic. To fanfic that NEEDS EDITING.

With that out of the way, lemme attempt to summarize my (main) issues with Luna’s Characterization and then I’ll expand on them from there. Get ready for the salt.

1. Luna’s backstory is inconsistent. She herself states multiple times that Oracle training is grueling and involves both physical and mental trials as well as things like fasting for long periods of time WHILE doing said training, yet she is mostly treated like a well-meaning but overall pampered, naive princess who is only now being forced into hard circumstances and has to adapt accordingly. She is also treated like she doesn’t know “common people” that well and doesn’t know how to interact or pick up things like lies (????). A common example is how she treats Sol as trustworthy but reserved when according to Sol’s POV she is literally debating shooting Luna as a possible threat. And Luna supposedly doesn’t pick up on this danger. But we’ll get back to that.

2. Luna is characterized as being oblivious to how people outside Rich Oracle Circles live. That despite traveling all over the world she has never really seen it’s “ugly” sides because she’s always traveled in fancy guarded processions with the sick brought to her. Pretty sure the book specifically mentions at one point that she’s never “considered” what it would be like to be anything other than an Oracle. Admittedly this issue could go under number 1 or 3a but I’m putting it here because I’m salty.

3a. This and the next problem are heavily intertwined and, not going to lie, I could make an entire rant just about these two issues all by themselves, not just in Luna’s context. The first is that Luna is portrayed as not being able to make her own decisions, not even wanting to make her own decisions, until she is forced to or has her “eyes opened” by Sol, our jaded Long Night survivor character. The author treats Luna’s sense of duty as some form of social brainwashing she needs to “get over” and spoiler alert I hate it with every fiber of my being.

3b. Playing right off the whole “Luna is incapable of making her own decisions and that’s why she does her freaking job until someone ‘opens her eyes’” is the idea that Luna’s faith is a character flaw. Lemme reiterate. The story treats Luna’s faith. As a character flaw. Rather than the entire cornerstone to her character and one of the big reasons she’s as amazing as she is. Her faith is treated as foolish and shortsighted, something that has only survived for this long because it has never been challenged and, heads up, the rant I am going to go into on this one specific thing is going to be long and extremely salty.

Alright I think I’ve covered the basics. Starting from the top, BRING ON THE SALT.

…

1. Luna is pampered, well-meaning but naive and bad at reading ulterior motives of people.

….*slow, deep breath* Luna. The Oracle. Who became the youngest Oracle in history. Because her mother was murdered in front of her while her home was burned down and conquered by the people who then proceeded to rule her country, subvert her brother to their cause, and generally control and monitor every aspect of her life that they could. Luna, who was fully prepared to take a single suitcase and escape her own home and run off alone to get to Altissia and had to be stopped by her own brother (who you’ll note brought a bunch of soldiers with him, which indicates he did not expect a submissive response if he came alone).

This girl who was canonically physically abused as a child by a Niflheim officer (https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=iZHzBtIfpdg slow this down if you need to confirm, but she is grabbed and manhandled and hit by an adult man when she only looks to be twelve, around the age Tenebrae first fell), who has spent twelve years living under the rule of a nation that is not only aggressively atheist but has willfully attempted to kill one of the very beings she serves and openly plans to do so again. The woman who successfully survived the fall of Insomnia with only one magic-less glaive as her backup for most of the event, then evaded the search efforts of an entire empire with only her own wits, a dog, a Messenger who has only ever been shown to talk rather than fight, and the extremely grudging on-off help of her brother who works for said empire. All while waking up the Astrals and forging covenants that were slowly killing her from the strain, which is the exact thing the empire was trying to prevent her from doing. Then, when it became necessary to complete the last covenant, turned herself in to the very same empire that has imprisoned her since she was a child and has been actively hunting/trying to stop or kill her since Insomnia’s fall.

That girl. Is pampered. Is naive. Is bad at reading people and telling when they have ulterior motives or are lying.

Pull the other one. I’ll kick you.

But seriously, how are we supposed to believe this? Luna’s life post Tenebrae’s fall to Niflheim is only pampered in the sense that she was given fancy clothes and fed regularly (outside the grueling fasting periods mentioned in this same book). She had no freedom, no privacy, her guards were all either men who wore the same uniform as those who killed her mother or were monsters infected with the very scourge she is sworn to purify. The Oracle is famous, is revered by the people. To keep the people on their side, the Empire would have flaunted her, would have taken her to all the shiny events. Luna would have had to dine with, converse with, even dance with the very same people who ordered and condoned the murder of her mother, her own imprisonment, and the brainwashing of her own brother to the enemy side. She would have been the epitome of a bird in a gilded cage or a dog on a silk leash and humans are not meant to live like that.

Am I really expected to think she survived a situation that oppressive, that toxic, that actively hurtful, for years by being naive and bad at reading people? Am I really expected to believe that she cannot tell when people are out to use her or hurt her or are lying to her? Am I really expected to believe that she is pampered and doesn’t have, at the very least, PTSD from seeing her mother murdered and her brother join the very people who did it, let alone everything else that would have followed over those years?

Really?

Luna didn’t have a pampered life. She suffered abuse. Longterm emotional abuse, likely sporadic physical abuse until she learned to play along well enough to escape such punishments, and almost certainly gaslighting (again: religious leader being held captive by an aggressively atheist nation that wants to kill the pantheon this religious leader communes with).

Luna would have learned to navigate the canonically cutthroat politics of Niflheim while being at best an outsider and at worst a target because of her beliefs, her nationality, and her loyalties to the Lucians (nobody was surprised when Luna went on the run. Nobody. Her continued devotion and loyalty to the Lucians -Niflheim’s enemy- was absolutely a well known factor). She would have learned to pick truth from lie and when to pretend she hadn’t noticed in order to survive. She would have lived twelve years knowing that any mistakes or misplaced moments of trust would be paid for in either her suffering of the suffering of the people close to her like her servants, or just the citizens of Tenebrae in general.

And none of this is taking into account her Oracle training, which the book does not elaborate on but repeatedly states was hard and grueling and she completed it years earlier than any Oracle in history.

There are a lot of words I would use to describe Luna, but pampered and naive are not among them.

…

2. Luna is oblivious to how people outside her rich circles live and has never considered being anything else but an Oracle until Sol specifically points it out.

The book states that she mostly travels in procession (ie, with tons of servants to serve her every need and bodyguards to keep the masses at bay) so clearly she can’t go anywhere too dangerous, otherwise her servants wouldn’t be able to come. Right? Oh boy where do I start with this.

I know! Let’s start with the fact that Luna canonically maintains the blessings on Havens! You know those things. They’re your only safe place to camp at night and they can be found in all sorts of nifty locations like the middle of the wilderness where cars can’t go, chocobos won’t go, packs of wild animals will literally leap out of the bushes to eat you (Voretooth packs can get up to twelve or more members all trying to eat you at once, fun fact), and poor choice in clothes will lead to broken ankles at best? The ones that can be found in the depths of locations so dangerous that even the Hunters are leary of going inside and are actively forbidden from approaching unless they are a very high rank?

Off the top of my head some of the Havens that come to mind is the one in the middle of Malmalam thicket, the top of an active volcano, multiple spots in the middle of the voretooth and coeurl infested desert, two up in Vesperpool aka the home of all demon crocodiles and flocks of cockatrice that are bigger than the average car and can literally turn you into stone if you aren’t careful.

Yeah those places. She maintains those. Depending on how often Havens need to be maintained and if the weather/nature shortens that time then she might also have to periodically enter the dungeons Noctis explores in game that also have Havens hidden inside where it is always dark all the time and infested with daemons.

The book also states that the sick (who are highly infectious and not supposed to be touched by people who can’t heal the scourge and in the later stages of sickness become extremely violent and prone to biting in order to infect other people) are … brought to her…

By whom? Exactly?

Moving on from that giant and obvious plot hole to the “never seen or considered other lifestyles” bit: Luna has traveled literally all over the world. In her duties of healing the otherwise incurable she has gone all over Niflheim, Tenebrae, and Lucis. She has walked through the streets of cities filled with lights and glamor and stood on the dirt roads of towns so small they have to go to the next town an hour or more away to buy groceries or check their mailbox and who’s royal hotel suite is just a caravan with a new coat of paint and “welcome Oracle!” sign. Luna’s work is to cure the Starscourge, which is a disease that I can almost promise the rich don’t get. Because the rich and fancy do not risk their lives by going into daemon territory (Prompto, a middle class Insomnian, didn’t even know what wild animals would be like, you expect the rich and famous to be any better?).

The vast majority of Luna’s patients would be people like Dave the Hunter, or Sania the scientist who wades into the wilds. The truck drivers and the farmers and the electricians risking their lives to repair power lines in the middle of nowhere. She wouldn’t be going to cities except to talk to the refugees who fled there from the outside and thus picked up the Scourge. Her only two social circles would be Niflheim’s cutthroat nobility and the “unwashed masses” who come to her for healing. Guess which ones she’ll be more invested in getting to know on a personal/friendly basis and interacting with.

Of course Luna has interacted with and understands “common folk”. Luna is a caregiver, not just physically, but emotionally. She is beloved by the people because she is kind. That means she talks to them. More importantly, she listens. She has held the hands of the farmer as he begs her to heal him, because the harvest season is so close, and if he can’t work, if he dies, then what will become of his wife or the people his farm feeds? She has embraced the sobbing refugee mother as the other breaks down in gratitude for a child who’s skin is a healthy shade and who’s veins no longer bulge a sickly purple. She has met people who are not rich, but who are content. Who have lives that do not hinge on the razor thin dance of staying true to self and not exposing weakness to those who want to eat her alive. Who can laugh with their neighbors and kiss that nice boy down the street just for the fun of it, who can defy curfew to dance in the rain with the person they love and risk, at most, a lecture and a weekend grounding.

And no, they aren’t rich, no, they aren’t influential or powerful, but they are peaceful. They are happy.

Am I really expected to believe that Luna has not looked on these people’s lives from afar, listened to their rambles as they try to distract themselves from the sickness she is drawing from their veins, and not yearned to be the same? That she hasn’t thought over and over again about running away and being free from her gilded cage? That she doesn’t know anything about the lives of the people she heals even as she walks down their streets and steps into their houses so she can heal those who are too sick or too violent to be safely taken out of their room? That she has never thought about what life could be like if she wasn’t an Oracle as she watches the landscape roll by and walks through the wilderness to find the lonely farmsteads that the townsfolk tell her has sick children that cannot be let out of the shed for fear they will bite?

Setting all of that to one side, what human hasn’t thought of being someone else? What person on this planet, hasn’t looked at another person’s life that is so very different from their own and gone “huh, I wonder what that would be like” even if only for a moment before moving on and forgetting about it? Humans are creatures that dream by nature, that are curious by nature. To assume that Luna is not just because she gets to have the fancy dresses and servants is stupid.

…

3a: Luna is unable to make her own decisions and is only the dutiful Oracle because she doesn’t know any better and needs a “wiser” rebellious character to “open her eyes”.

Okay buckle up. I have tried to suppress the salt until now but over these last two points I don’t care. I will be salty. I will be sarcastic. I will be mean. I will reference Real World faiths (tho I’ll try to keep that to a minimum).

Both 3a and 3b are actually systemic issues in storytelling (particularly noticeable in movies/shows but maybe that’s because I’m pretty lucky with my book choices) that I despise with a passion. Specifically 3a relates to the chronic issue writers seem to have with characters not being allowed to be happy with their role in life. There’s this persistent thought, this narrative push, that if a character is following in the footsteps of their family, is entering the “traditional” profession that their parents (or grandparents, or entire generations of predecessors) have been in before them then they must be unhappy with their lot in life. That this is clearly the character being “repressed” and that if they are content then they are either a bad guy (see: every antagonist from a proud military family or every ruler who thinks they are better than everyone because of bloodline ever) or they are just blind to their own unhappiness.

Now, the basic idea of “character discovers they are unhappy in current role and seeks a new one” can actually be done really well. But those stories that do it well have a lot of internal conflict, a lot of self-reflection and searching and choosing to take a new path after really giving it some thought. Maybe they have help along the way, or encouragement, or another character to show that it’s possible by example and that’s okay.

What is not okay is infantilizing a strong, intelligent character by saying “oh it just never occurred to them until they are told that they are unhappy by this much more worldly wise character and then they went and did it”. That is not okay. It not only trivializes the efforts of every real person who has proudly followed in a parent’s footsteps to become something (a doctor, a missionary, a soldier, an actor, even an electrician, pick a life goal and I promise someone has been inspired to do that by their parent being one before them) but it also takes an otherwise strong, dedicated character and implies that they are too stupid to think for themselves or have any free will until the plot and a Shinier Character demands it.

Lunafreya Nox Fleuret is an Oracle, as her mother was before her, and her mother before her, and all the way back two thousand years to the very first Oracle we see in canon. Possibly back even farther, depending on if any of Aera’s ancestors were Oracles too. That isn’t a suffocating tradition, that is a heritage, that is a culture, that is a necessary, life-saving service that canon proves literally kept the world from falling into eternal darkness (Luna was the last Oracle, the day after she dies is literally the last time we players see sunlight until the end of the game when Noctis dies to restore it). Luna is not stupid or repressed for following in those footsteps, she is breathtakingly strong for shouldering her heritage as the Last Oracle with pride even when the forces controlling every other aspect of her life want her to be ashamed of it and give it up.

The empire that took over her home when she was twelve are actively anti-magic and anti-Astral. Luna is someone who speaks to the Astrals and is born with a magic that can heal the very sickness they want to weaponize. They couldn’t outright forbid her from training to be the next Oracle because that would cause the people to riot, but they could and absolutely would try to make her give up in any way they could. They would have insulted her, demeaned her, hurt her, and imprisoned her. They wouldn’t have wanted a “real” Oracle, they would have wanted a puppet who said pretty promises and then did nothing to stop them.

It would have been so easy for Luna to go down the same path her brother did. To give in to the empire and it’s propaganda that she would have been forced to listen to every single day of her life for twelve whole years. It would have made her life so much easier to be a puppet Oracle who didn’t have to walk miles through the wilderness to maintain Havens, or defy the empire by maintaining loyalty to Lucis, or leave her manor home to heal the sick that could not come to her themselves. As a puppet Oracle she could have stayed in the Manor and only treated cases that could reach her doors and were vetted by the empire. She could have eaten the finest foods and worn the best dresses and never had to worry about a pack of hungry Voretooths or a rogue Behemoth tearing her apart. Most of all, Niflheim wouldn’t have been nearly as oppressive or violent. They would have gladly given her the illusion of freedom and control as long as she played along rather than been fully willing and prepared to run into the jungle with a suitcase just to escape as seen in the movie.

Luna was not blindly fitting into a mold and she was not and has never been incapable of making a decision. The fact that she shows up in canon as a strong, dedicated woman who is in control of her emotions and not afraid to face down a giant sea monster with the power to summon tidal waves with just her words and a glorified pointy stick proves that. The idea that she needs a “wiser” character to come alongside her and “free her” from her own duties is not only stupid, it undermines one of the key things that makes Luna such a strong character despite her relative lack of screentime.

Furthermore, canonically, one of Luna’s main reasons for sticking with her duty as Oracle isn’t because it’s tradition, it’s because of what Niflheim did. In the Kingsglaive movie, when Nyx Ulric is getting angry at Luna for doing really reckless, life-threatening things, she tells him quote:

“I do not fear death. What I fear is doing nothing and losing everything.”

That’s not a woman who is blindly following a path laid out for her. That is a woman who is desperately, furiously fighting against the people who killed her mother in front of her the best way she can: by being the Oracle they cannot stand for her to be.

But sure. Luna is only the Oracle because she doesn’t know better and it never occurred to her to be anything else until some jaded kid with a shotgun made a snide comment about it.

3b: Luna’s faith is a character flaw that has only survived this long because it wasn’t challenged by a worldly wise character who knows better.

Not going to lie but words cannot express how much I hate this trope. This is another thing that shows up a lot in television/movies but also in books too, and that is that a character is not allowed to have a faith in something/religion unless they are 1. Foolish, 2. Brainwashed/tricked into it, 3. A crazy fanatic, or 4. It’s a character flaw they have to overcome by becoming more jaded and atheist and hateful.

Because … that’s not how it works. There are- millions (billions) of people all over the real world who are intelligent, well educated, thoughtful, kind, and religious. And no I’m not just talking about Christianity (tho I am Christian so you can see why this trope grinds my gears so hard). There’s Hinduism, there’s Islam, there’s Buddhism, there’s Judaism, there’s so many faiths and belief systems okay. And no we don’t tend to play well with each other or accept the validity of the others but that doesn’t mean we’re fanatics or brainwashed or stupid. And no we really don’t appreciate it when media introduces a character who follows a religion (even fictional ones!) only to make them an antagonist or rip it away from them in the name of “improving their character”. Just like every other cultural group ever who really doesn’t like their heritage and culture being used as a butt of jokes or is turned into a caricature or used as the basis for the antagonist being Evil™.

But no. We can’t possibly have a character who’s faith makes them strong or gives them comfort in times of hardship unless they are deluded. We can’t possibly have a character who is both intelligent and faithful. We can’t possibly show a character who is breathtakingly courageous and selfless as well as religious unless we point at their faith and go oh look a horrible character flaw to overcome by having non-believer characters open their eyes via sarcastic commentary.

And look. Look. I am well aware that the plot of Dawn of the Future has Bahamut as the Bad Guy™. I am fully aware of that. But if you want to be purely honest and technical, that doesn’t invalidate Luna’s faith because (spoilers) the other Astrals fight Bahamut to save the world. They hear her cries and the come to fight on behalf of Lucis and Noctis and all of Eos and they kill Bahamut even when that ensures their own destruction.

But we’re not actually here to talk about whether the Astrals deserve Luna’s faith in them, we’re here to talk about why insisting Luna’s faith is, by nature of being a faith, treated like a flaw and why it is treated like something so weak it only survived to this point because Luna didn’t face anything “bad” enough to “snap her out of it”.

Spoiler alert, it’s not a flaw and it’s not weak.

Going back to something I have mentioned several times already: Niflheim is an empire run by people who actively want to kill the very beings most of the planetary population worships. The very same people in charge of Luna’s life for twelve years, starting from when she was twelve and very emotionally vulnerable and traumatized, hate the Astrals. I repeat: They hate the Astrals. They have devised weapons to try (and spectacularly fail) to kill them. Half their continent is a winter nightmare-land because they tried to kill Shiva the Glacian and she went “haha, nice try, lemme leave a fake corpse here that constantly pumps out freezing temperatures and blizzards”.

Am I seriously, honestly, supposed to believe that these people didn’t try to tear down her faith at every single opportunity? That Ravus wouldn’t have tried to bully and cajole and harass her into abandoning her faith because he knew that her faith was what kept her walking her chosen path as Oracle and that said path was destined to kill her? Am I seriously supposed to believe that Luna didn’t spend those twelve years having to sit there and bite her tongue to keep from raging at these cutthroat nobles as they gloated and sneered and spat on the names of the Astrals who gave Luna the very magic she uses to heal those in need?

Luna never needed Sol to come along and say “what have the Astrals ever done for you?” because I promise that she’s heard some variation of that exact phrase from everyone in her life. From her own brother to the Emperor himself she has heard some form of this question, this taunt. In the Kingsglaive movie, General Glauca even says something to the order of, “To what god do you pray? The gods do not listen.” Right before he kidnaps her.

Luna’s faith isn’t something blind, and it is not a flaw. It is a cornerstone of her character. Luna’s faith is a bloody, stubborn, tenacious thing that she has nurtured and shored up and been steadied by through twelve years of emotional abuse and physical imprisonment. Luna’s faith is an unshakeable thing that can only come from long nights spent crying into the silent dark of the room and asking “is this real? Am I right? Should I give up? This hurts so much, what do I do?” and finding the answer to be “yes this is real. Yes I am right. No, I won’t give up even though it kills me. Yes it hurts, but what I believe in is stronger than this pain.”

Faith is not optimism and it is not fanaticism. Optimism can be broken by hardship and fanaticism has no room for selfless kindness or acceptance of other people not being as devoted as they are. Faith is personal. Faith is a bedrock, and maybe it’s a bedrock that makes no sense to people on the outside, but it is a bedrock and it can make mountains move.

Just as Luna proves when she runs rings around an Empire to win the respect and cooperation of Titan and of Ramuh, to stand amid the rain and tell an enraged TideMother that “it is in mercy that men offer praise, and in shedding grace that the gods solicit worship” and not flinch because she knows she is right.

Luna’s faith is a fierce, scarred thing that has taken every kind of suppression and propaganda and poison the empire could throw at it and kept on going.

Furthermore. Luna’s faith is treated by Sol as something empty. Because when did the Astrals ever help her or comfort her or save her?

I can answer that. They helped her when they gave her Umbra and Pryna, who kept her company through her life and gave her a way to talk to Noctis. A way to reach out to a person who was not either imperial, warped by imperial propaganda, or too afraid to speak out against the empire for fear of dying. They comforted her when Gentiana became a second mother for Luna after the death of Queen Sylva. A physical shoulder to cry on, a sounding board to bounce fears off of, a well of advice when it was asked of her, a rock to retreat to when Ravus turned away from her and the empire continued to control as much of her life as they could.

Gentiana, who is really Shiva in disguise, has been with Luna since she was a small child.

One of the Astrals themselves has been with Luna for almost her entire life. Has guided her, has comforted her, has led her to safety as she fled Insomnia’s ruins.

Shiva had no reason to do that. The Oracles have done their duty since the time of Aera without her help or company. Shiva didn’t have to stay. She didn’t have to linger and offer comfort and become Luna’s friend. She didn’t have to listen to the last words of a scared young woman who wanted only to see her fiancé one last time and promise to carry them to Noctis in the event of her death. Shiva didn’t have to cry on behalf of Luna. Shiva didn’t have to help Luna remember what it was like to be an ordinary woman (“Yet others need not hide their grief. Is she [Luna] so different from them?”), and in fact, if Shiva had played up to most of the stereotypes, she would have done the opposite and done her hardest to suppress any part of Luna’s personality that wasn’t her Oracle duties.

But she did. Shiva was there, and she remembered. Shiva loved and we as a fandom may yell at the Astrals a lot for not doing more to take care of the Starscourge, but of all of them Shiva gave the most because she came down and she lived, and walked, and loved this Oracle, this scared child, this frightened, weary woman who couldn’t even turn to her own family for comfort. Shiva’s husband Ifrit was betrayed by humankind and yet Shiva still defended them, she kills Ifrit to protect the man (the king) that Luna loved.

And at the end of the game, in those final moments outside the Citadel, when it’s just Noctis and his Retinue against all of Ardyn’s armies of daemons, when Luna calls out to these Astrals whom she has remained faithful to her entire life, even unto her death…

They answer.

Every. Last. Astral. Who is not corrupted like Ifrit, comes down at her prayer and fights. Even Leviathan who’s only voiced lines are screaming wrath against the humanity that forgot her, even Bahamut who otherwise remains aloof in his plane of magic beyond the concerns of the mortal world. Luna calls, and they answer her.

“What have the Astrals ever done for her” indeed.

Luna’s faith is a driving force of her character, it is irrevocably intertwined with her duty, with her choices, with her desire to help people and save the world even if it costs her own life, and in the end her faith is rewarded. Not in the way we want for her, because we love the ultimate happy endings where everyone lives and nobody dies. But Final Fantasy XV was never a story about happy endings. It was a story about coming of age, and tragedy, and sacrifice. Of holding onto hope against all opposition, and of having faith that someday the dawn will return, even if bringing about that dawn requires personal sacrifice.

…

Okay this is over 5k words, I’m tired, and I’m extremely salty so I can’t really figure out how to wrap this up but there we go, my salty personal rant about why I think Dawn of the Future messed up some really critical parts of Luna’s characterization and why it’s Really Bad that they messed up those specific things.

Also I kinda despise them making Bahamut the bad guy in DotF because yes he’s a jerk and yes he really could have done the whole Prophecy thing a ton better, but in the original FFXV one of the things that made the game so heartbreakingly tragic to me is that most of the characters involved weren’t pure evil. They could be greedy, and flawed, and crazy, but in the end the source of the problem was too big to pin on one character.

Do you pin the entire thing on the god of war for his mistakes in trying to bring about peace, or the god of fire for trying to destroy humanity and no longer being there to do his job and purify the plague? Do you blame the Astrals for their hubris or humanity for theirs, because Ifrit loved humanity until they betrayed him so deeply he went mad? Do you hate Ardyn for causing the Long Night or pity him for being a victim of Somnus’s greed? Can you blame Somnus for everything even though the Scourge was going on long before him and kept spreading long after he sealed Ardyn away? The whole thing is a tragedy because at this point it’s a problem too big to fix without someone paying a price too heavy and we hate that because the characters who pay that price are the ones we grow to love over the game.

But that is an entirely different rant for an entirely different day when I am not so tired and my hands no longer hurt from writing this much in one sitting. Thank you and good night.

#Secret Engima Rambles #Melodies and Manuscripts #SE rants #ffxv #dawn of the future #lunafreya nox fleuret #I WILL DIE ON THIS HILL #and i will take no criticism #long post #this is basically four rants in one #with a fifth thrown in at the end for good measure #I HAVE MANY FEELINGS OKAY #this is just under 6k words #ouch my hands #gotta love when the paid author is presented a character who has survived 12 years under an empire #that hates everything she stands for #and goes #PAMPERED BUT WELL-MEANING NAIVE PRINCESS GOT IT #then looks at the same character as a RELIGIOUS LEADER #and says #AND HER FAITH IS STUPID AND SHE NEEDS TO BE TOLD THAT I GOTCHA #*angry noises*

[silvia7272]

9 ~ Revelations Revealed

Hey guys. I can’t believe how many notes I have on My Cardigan Story. It's truly amazing and I love you guys so much thank you. I hope you’ll enjoy today's chapter, and I hope you’ll understand some points I make and whether or not you like it is completely up to you.

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I’m going to Headcanons that the Kwami’s can’t see what their holders do once they transform, however, I do think some of their personality does get passed onto them when they do transform. Marinette becomes confident and strong like Tikki, Chat Noir is playful and funny like Plagg, I always thought they matched once they transformed.

Word Count: 3249

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Also, how would people feel about having 3 in 1 fics? So, I’ll put 3 fic stories in one post, that way there's more content to enjoy, around the same length as the others and it may but just a little bit of filler so you can enjoy more interactions. They may seem less important so I think the 3 in 1 fics will be canon but not as relevant, if an idea has it's on fic, it's important/I wanted to expand on it.

Tags: @queenmj10, @fangirl39, @animegirlweeb, @northernbluetongue , @maribat-is-lifeblood, @raisuke06, @indecisive-mess-named-me, @luleck, @themotherofhogwarts, @more-or-less-human-i-guess, if you wish to be tagged all you have to do is say. Also, if you change your name please tell me, I don’t want to leave you out since you’ve asked to be tagged.

***

“Marinette how could you?” Uggh this again? Could they not give it a rest? This was the same routine Marinette had been living by before Chloé and Rosina entered the picture. It didn’t matter what she did, Lila would be persistent about making the class hate her, even though she had accomplished it she still wanted that hatred to be directed towards someone.

She just so happened to be that someone.

If she said the truth, she was of course lying.

If she denied, she was lying.

If she did anything, she was lying.

And god was she sick of it. Couldn’t they see Lila was just spinning so many tales to grab their attention it was unbelievable?

But she couldn’t do anything else.

Because it still hurt so much.

And she couldn’t tell anyone.

“I didn’t do that, she’s lying.” But of course, they all rolled their eyes at her. Lila was ‘hysterically sobbing’ into the arms of Mylène, they never saw the smirk the brunette gave her.

And they just believed her. With no evidence to back it up.

Man did it make her mad.

She also didn’t miss the disappointed look Adrien had given her, but she was quickly able to go back to her friends and act as if nothing had happened.

Because she had to.

If she continued being angry, then she would get Akumatized.

The day she was nearly expelled was close enough, she could never let something like that happen.

So, she thought the best option was to bottle everything inside.

But she remembered how it all came crashing down on her when Rosina let her enter that Trinklet world. She knew it was bad when she had cried for a long time, she didn’t know how long due to the no time concept, but it must’ve been awhile.

And yet she still bottled everything in. How else was she meant to deal with it?

“Maaaaaaaari? Are you ok there? You’ve been spacing out?” A hand was waved in front of her face as she blinked out of her stupor.

“I’m fine, I’ve just had a lot on my mind, I’m fine really, hahaha” She was trying to play it off as cool and hoped the other two wouldn’t notice.

“You really need to learn how to relax Marinette. I’ll plan a spa day for us all” Marinette had to stop the blonde from pressing anything.

“Nonono, Chloé really it's fine, I’m almost done anyway” She laughed nervously. And it played out like the day usually did.

The day ended and they went home, she ignored that feeling of eyes upon her as Rosina bounced along beside her.

She ignored the feeling of eyes upon her as she was nearing her house with Rosina looking around.

She ignored the cold hard stare in front of her as she bumped into Rosina who had halted midstep… And stopped bouncing.

“Rosina? What's wrong, is everything-”

“Aunty!” Rosina leapt and hugged the tiny woman in front of her.

“Amoretto! Cease this public display of affection!”

Whack

“Sorry, but I haven’t seen you for so long. And I have so much to tell you. Marinette’s been great, she’s my first ever friend here, and I’ve made other friends as well and-” Franchezca put her arm up to stop the young girl from retelling her everything the girl deemed necessary.

“That’s all very good, however, there are some important matters I have to dish out. To Miss Dupain-Cheng. Alone” the girls widened their eyes.

That did not seem good.

“Wha-What? Why?”

“We can discuss that privately, now let’s get going… You’ll soon learn that I can be a very impatient person” She slowly walked out and before Marinette could even process what was happening she felt as if she was being pushed.

“Whoa whoa whoa, Rosina stop pushing I’m gonna-”

She fell.

“I’m so sorry Mari. It's just that, it must be really urgent if Aunty wants to talk to you” As much as Marinette wanted to deny seeing her, she was vaguely curious.

“But, why not bring you along? You haven’t seen her in weeks” The redhead shrugged.

“I don’t mind, she’s always like this, but you better get going. She really hates waiting” Marinette nodded before running off, knowing Rosina would make an excuse to her parents.

She didn’t know why the former Ladybug holder wanted to have a word with her, but she did grow with slight nervousness with each passing moment.

“Finally you made it, next time I ask to meet you, it should be quicker” Marinette huffed before glaring. She was talking to her niece, why was she so grumpy anyway?

Before she could ask, a light was forming around the older woman. She was shocked, that was the same thing Rosina had! They both had one?

“Ladybug! Hurry up and come hither” She stepped inside this light and disappeared.

“Don’t say that so loud!” She followed before disappearing as well, luckily no audience was watching them.

***

“Where are we?” This was not like Rosina’s Trinklet. Hers was a lot more peaceful and fuller of nature. This had tons of doors on either side of them when looking around it seemed very narrow, like a never-ending office. But it seemed that Hernandez knew where she was going, heading towards a certain red door.

She opened the door and the blue-haired girl walked in.

“What is this place?” Looking around all the girl saw was darkness, except for a large white light in the middle of the room.

“We’re going to take a trip down memory lane. Now look deep into it” Franchezca commanded. Marinette rolled her eyes at this order but proceeded, she really wished she wasn’t going to be treated like this, but she looked deep into the light, ready for whatever she was about to face.

She didn’t expect to see Alya of all people.

“He cannot be allowed to hear that message Alya, if he does I’ll die of shame” This was the past, how was that possible?

“Okay okay, I got an idea. If Adrien’s phone went to voicemail it means the dudes busy, which also means you can get to it before he does” Back when they were friends. This was the day Theo made that statue of Ladybug and Chat Noir.

The past Marinette excitedly ran and pulled down the traced schedule of Adrien’s life went into…

It flashed from event to event, from stealing Adrien’s phone to abandoning Paris, being rude to André and planning to gate-crash Kagami’s chance of being near Adrien. Once she had lost all her friends to Lila, she was able to recognise that this behaviour was unacceptable and extremely creepy, she regretted it as she realised her jealousy got the better of her when it came to Adrien. Hell, she wasn’t even sure if meeting Rosina a year ago would let her be sane, her being so close to Adrien and all, would she have blown up at her? She didn’t want to think about it anymore, that was the past and she was living in the present. Sure, she was younger, but that wasn’t an excuse for her behaviour. At least she was learning as she swore, she would never do it again.

“These are the mistakes you have made Ladybug. And you need to recognise everything you’ve done from past to present. You need to understand your actions aren’t always right.” A red dot immediately zoomed out and came into view of Franchezca’s face.

“Marinette may have made some mistakes in the past but she’s acknowledged them and became better and! -” A hand shushed her before she could continue.

“I’m not finished yet, bug. And do not interrupt me again” They glared before Tikki reluctantly flew back to the blue-haired girl.

She muttered a sorry before flying back into the girl's purse.

“You’ve continued this even, you stole the boy's phone, read other letters, rude to people when you were upset-”

“Hey so are you!”

“I have a reason.”

“You don’t treat the Chat Noir as your partner, more like a sidekick, although that I can’t reprehend you on that, all Chat Noir’s are sidekicks, a Ladybug holder has more power than Chat Noir.” Marinette would’ve interrupted but she was silenced by yet another glare.

“All of your past mistakes are there, written in black and white, are here for you to see”

“But I’ve changed since then, I’m not friends with any of them, I even learnt to forgive my bully. I have new friends that I can trust not let me do that anymore. Your Niece helped me a lot Mlle Hernandez, and I thank her a lot, so I don’t understand what I need to do?!” She didn’t mean to raise her voice, but she was really struggling to comprehend the solution, if there was any solution in fact.

“You still keep all of that anger and regret inside of you” Marinette widened her eyes. She… Does?

“I don’t blame you for not recognising the symptoms, or anyone else for not noticing. You put on a mask to make sure you don’t seem hurt, but you are. And that negative emotion is going to eat you up until either you explode or an Akuma gets a hold of you. And I seriously doubt you’d want that to happen.” She nodded, still trying to process the new information handed to her.

“And you need to let that go”

“Huh?”

“Do you want to end up cold and bitter, like me? You are young, still young, you children make stupid decisions all the time, because it’s a part of life, and first-hand experience is the best way to learn. It's up to you if you want to forgive or forget, but don’t harbour any negative emotions towards your past. So, let it go”

“Why are you giving me this advice? Don’t you hate me?” Marinette retaliated.

“What reason would I specifically hate a 14-year-old girl? I hate everyone equally so don’t flatter yourself. Even if I still don’t agree you should be Ladybug, you also shouldn’t burden yourself and ask for help once in a while, you don’t need to only rely on yourself. This is meant in and out of battle, so remember that you aren’t alone, you have your sidekick after all”

So, she just wanted to help? That seemed completely out of character for someone like her, but Marinette guessed that since she didn’t know her like Rosina, it wouldn’t be fair to make that judgement.

Plus, it was true, even if Marinette didn’t want to admit it. She was still taking her time with asking for help from others, normally she would gladly take on all the work whenever her friends asked for anything, or she would offer to make banners for Alix whenever she had a race, or help out in the art room whenever she was free, and she only noticed how unhealthy that was, she was desperately clinging onto her friends now since she didn’t want to be abandoned again.

Maybe she did need some help?

“Thank you, Mlle Hernandez, I get it now. I’ll learn to let my anger go and focus on my future” The older woman was about to respond but Marinette beat her to it, she smirked inwardly as well.

“But I’m also determined to prove to you that I am a good Ladybug, even if you don’t think so. Maybe not now, but I swear in the future I will prove you wrong, and I won’t fail Paris. With my friends, we will defend Paris and defeat Hawkmoth”

Ding

Franchezca felt something, or technically saw something, a silhouette of Rosina behind her, smiling like she always would be.

She grinned, that determination was contagious, she knew that feeling all too well.

“Very well, Ladybug. Prove me wrong, but prove yourself right before that” She turned on her heel as Marinette and Tikki hugged another.

“That was awesome Marinette, you were so confident”

“Thanks, Tikki. It may have been tough, but she just wanted me to understand I guess” They would’ve continued if not hearing a voice.

“Well, Ladybug? If you want to prove to me that you’re serious then we need to get you out of that ridiculous level 1 costume, it’s a disgrace to all fashion designers. Kwami, have you really not informed you're chosen of the levels?” Tikki shot out again, she was still angry with Franchezca with that comment about Chat Noir.

“You know as well as I do that there are too many power-ups to explain all at once. We still have so much to clarify, I didn’t want to overwhelm her.”

“…What?”

Something told Marinette she would be staying here for a loooong time.

***

There was a lot to discuss yesterday.

And the cold hard truth was exactly that, cold, hard, and straight to the point. It may not be exactly what the blue-eyed girl wanted to hear, but she was glad to hear it now than later, in the midst of battle.

If R-

“Marinette!”

Uggh, here we go again.

“Yes?” It was coming. Any minute now.

“Care to explain why you sent horrible texts to Lila yesterday, especially after we confronted you, if this is because we found out your true colours then say it to us don’t be mean to Lila!” God damn, they were so ignorant of everything, she just wanted to-

Wait. This is exactly the same routine, and yes, she couldn’t stand it, but it was her life.

And she was going to change that routine.

“Fine…”

“How da- wait, what?” Even Lila seemed surprised, she was normally meant to fight and prove her innocence, not cave over immediately. What happened?

“I said fine, I promise not to text Lila, even though I don’t have her phone number, ever again. And I don’t know why she keeps bringing me up in conversation. But you can go back and forget about me and I’ll promise never to talk to her or text her ever. I really don’t care, I have plans with my friends anyway. Now if you’ll excuse me, I need to go to the bathroom. But seriously, just please tell her not to drag me into her fallouts, I don’t care about any of that stuff.” She wanted to laugh but had to hold it in as she passed them all and walked straight into the restroom. Once she sat in a cubicle the red Kwami flew out of her purse.

“That was great Marinette. Franchezca’s advice really helped.”

“Mhmm, yeah I guess she really was right. After I let go, I feel calmer and happier, plus I have more free time now, unless an Akuma comes obviously, but, I sorta feel… Better”

“That’s wonderful Mari-” They heard the door open so Tikki covered her mouth and whizzed back inside Marinette’s purse.

Marinette was unsure who it would be, but for all she knew it might be someone completely random, or someone she didn’t know.

There was no way to- it was Lila.

Marinette would’ve glared but soon remembered to let it go, huh that reminded her of Frozen, maybe she should watch that with Rosina some tim-

“You seem different, finally grew a backbone?” She instigated.

‘Just ignore her Marinette, she isn’t worth your time anymore’ She continued washing her hands, not daring to look in the mirror to see those green devilish eyes at all.

“It doesn’t matter, I swear I will make sure your empire will crumble, I can be very persuasive-”

“That’s nice” That slipped out, but she wasn’t really paying all that much attention anyway. She wanted to get back to her friends. Chloé still booked that spa day, and even though she was against the idea at first, she was excited to see what that would entail.

“-And your new friends will leave you”

Crack

Marinette should’ve ignored it. She knew Lila was just trying to get under her skin. But it was so hard, and this was only the first day.

“Aww, Mari~” The brunette mocked, using the same tone Rosina would use.

“I’m sure they are nice people, but I can be nicer, and they will leave you. Don’t take it too harshly I’m just stating facts”

“Stop”

“What? Sorry didn’t hear you, does the little mouse finally talk?” Lila laughed whipping her hair, about to make an exit.

“I don’t care”

That stopped Lila.

“You don’t care about your friends, oh my looks like you’ve been lying this entire time”

“Stop, just please stop, I don’t care anymore just stay with your other friends, will you? I don’t care that you’re lying, I don’t even care that Adrien knows. Just leave me alone will you? You’re so annoying.” And she walked off, she needed to chill and have some time pass before going to find Rosina and Chloé.

Maybe she could ask Rosina to take her to that opposite world again? She wondered if she could research some relaxation techniques to use, maybe some meditation?

She was sure to write everything down, that would surely calm her.

She didn’t care about the look a pair of green eyes were giving her.

She was starting to become happier. A sudden weight was lifted off her shoulders.

Besides, she had a meeting with Chat and Crisono later that day.

***

“Where is she? Ohh Bugaboo? Where are you?” The message Chat received didn’t scream urgency, but he couldn’t help but feel he had been duped into coming here as a prank.

“Chat quit it with the names already” He heard her voice before he heard her feet land on the ground, strange, he should’ve heard her the other way around.

She was getting better at sneaking up on people.

“Aww, but you know you love my names secretly buga-” He paused.

No longer was he staring at a pigtailed heroine that had captured his heart, no, he was staring at a new Ladybug.

It was the same Ladybug, of course, the voice matched, and he knew she wouldn’t just quit out of nowhere.

But it was different, she was different. Her outfit had changed a lot, she had black gloves and boots with red spots, and an overall that seemed to be covering her bodysuit, and her hair, it was no longer tied up, but down, two pieces of hair tied up.

“Ladybug, you- you’ve… You changed outfits? How? You look even more amazing” She blushed, ahh a sign from the heavens, be still his beating heart, he couldn’t contain his excitement. What made her want to change outfits he wondered?

“Thanks for noticing Kitty, I found out an awful lot about the Miraculous’ yesterday.” Chat slightly narrowed his eyes, here we go again, another secret he can’t be apart off, he should’ve guessed.

“And there's something I need to tell you. But you can’t tell Crisono. She’ll be here any minute now and I’d prefer if she didn’t overhear.”

“What is it?” He would just have to hope she’ll tell him later; they were partners after all. Besides, Crisono was his friend, he had to make sure it was something alright, but by the way his Lady was looking, it didn’t seem to be too pleasant.

She took a deep breath. And he could still remember how everything fell silent.

“The Miraculous cure doesn’t work on Crisono, if she dies, she dies”

***

Huh, this became more of a life lesson than saltiness. Although I still stand by Franchezca, children make stupid mistakes and decisions all the time, and even if I do simply love all ML Salt, I know it's exaggerated and fanon, and that’s alright, we’re able to take a fictional show and write how we interpret it ourselves, because it's not real, and that’s alright, it's real to us and that can be enough. Although I should clarify that this isn’t taking the higher ground, at least I don’t think so, just that Marinette is choosing to forget about them and live her own life, while they choose to either dwell on unimportant matters. Marinette wants to be happy, and if that means choosing to cut her old friends off then so be it. Hope that makes sense.

(Sorry turned sappy there) Anyway I hope you enjoyed this chapter, the next one should be Piper, unless I get writer's block and do a bunch of 3 in 1 fics, or even some drawings, (I’ve done one of a character not yet shown in the fanfic, feel free to guess) Annnnnnnnd I’ve sorted names and Kwami’s to all the friends, I’m really excited to show them and for myself, to draw them, I went into detail about what I want in my book so I really can’t wait until they’re released. I’m so excited.

Ladybugs costume will be uploaded right after this hopefully, last time I had too many problems to count.

So, stay tuned next time, Cya. Hopefully, the next one will be longer, just wanted to get this out of the way.

#ml class #ml salt #ml salt fic #ml class salt #my oc #oc tag #my oc character #marinette dupain cheng #marinette and tikki #alya salt #lila salt #ml chloe bourgeois #Franchezca Hernandez #oc #ml marinette #ml ladybug #ml chat noir #miraculous les aventures de ladybug et chat noir #miraculoustalesofladybugandcatnoir #miraculous fanfic #miraculous ladybug #class salt #let me know your thoughts #please comment #have a good day #series soon #slight chat noir salt #slight marinette salt

[inevitably-johnlocked]

Let’s talk about The Twist of Good Omens (Pt. 1 of 2).

This is HALF a meta / scene analysis and praise for the actors, and HALF an Ineffable headcanon following the meta, so I hope you’ll bare with me as my brain spews out this shit that’s been going through it all week. It’s gotten really long, so I’m going to split up the meta / analysis and the headcanon into two separate posts because as I was writing this, it was getting long, and I know some people are here for either/or.

Spoilers follow, obviously.

A little known fact about me (or perhaps well known if you’ve been here for a long time) is that I LOVE the body swap / face swap trope. OBSESSED ABOUT IT. Loved it since I was a kid. I think it’s more the psychology of it that interests me (like I also consider “plopping a brain into a robot” part of this trope too, and the ensuing crisis intrigues me... a lot of my old Sonic fanfiction dealt with this type of thing). That and my innate desire to not be me, but I digress. One of my favourite movies ever is Face/Off... not a fantastic movie by any means, but damn if I didn’t obsess about it because of the psychology of it all. I LOVE watching actors pretend they’re the other actor playing their role. It’s amazing to me.

And AS someone who has consumed this trope like life since as long as I’ve consumed media, it probably took me less than a couple minutes to spot the twist ending in Good Omens. I immediately sensed something was off, mainly in their discussion in the park and  the mannerisms of the characters when they went to their respective places. 

When Aziraphale hesitated on saying “ineffable”  before death showed up, THEN Crowley’s hesitation on what Death’s appearance was, and THEN the “tickety-boo” from Crowley, is when something was niggling at me upon first watch of the scene. I wasn’t REALLY certain about my suspicions until C!Aziraphale and Gabriel were talking in the scene immediately following. Azzie was VERY subdued in Heaven, more like he was just trying to buy time or he was bored, when in the past he would... well, essentially not shut up and try to make small talk when he was confronted by the Gabriel or the other Angels. 

Instead he looked like a man who was lowkey annoyed and bored of being there, like he’s seen it all before. He didn’t question the demon bringing up the Hellfire. Just placid indifference.

It threw me for a loop, and that’s when I said, “Oh, they switched bodies, didn’t they??”. And it’s upon rewatches that I really REALLY became obsessed with this entire ending scene, because that’s when everything sort of falls into place, and you begin to see the minutiae of Sheen’s and Tennant’s acting in these scenes, and ALL the previous mannerisms from their characters are absorbed into each other’s portrayal of, well, each other. Essentially: “David, play this scene the way Michael would play this scene as if he were pretending to be you shamming the demons.” It’s amazing.

Here’s where I need to fucking praise Sheen and Tennant on their acting, because GODDAMN did they ever get each other’s mannerisms down pat, because upon subsequent rewatches, this is where I’m seeing all the clues about the twist ending that are GLARING, and I AM LIVING FOR IT.

So let’s jump back to the beginning of the scene, where they each return to their respective favourite material things: Upon returning, each character, if they were themselves, would have been OVERJOYED by their material items being back in tact. Azzie loves his books, and Crowley LOVES his car. Instead we just see... indifferent satisfaction that everything was restored? It was odd, but not alarming. You could stock it up to them being tired from the events of the day. It was still red flag one, for me.

Now, I’m not going to point this one out as “red flag two” because I can’t recall at all a time BEFORE this scene if this next thing ever happened, and perhaps someone can let me know if they recall before I get a chance to do my fourth run-through of the series: The flavours of ice cream they each end up eating; it would be a tell if they’re each eating what the other normally does. It would be a neat little clue that they each don’t realize they’re really doing that’s out of character. So... red flag 1.5 I will say until confirmation. 

The “tickety boo”, I’m going to label as a Red Flag 2: rewatching the series, we see Azzie uses the phrase when shit’s going tits up. Crowley mocked him for it, but never ever said it other than that one time. On first watch, you just write it off as Crowley picking up Azzie’s phrases, since Crowley says a lot of silly phrases, but upon second watch, you’re like, OH SHIT, wow, it’s totally Azzie, should have seen that.

Then there’s each of them in Heaven and Hell. I already talked about my tip-offs for Azzie, so let’s talk Crowley. A!Crowley was stammering on his speech, in that way that Azzie does when he’s nervous and unsure of himself and he’s trying to formulate his thoughts and understand what is happening. He was SURPRISED about Michael working with the demons, because – even though he saw Beelzebub and Gabriel interact, he had no idea how twisted in their own schemes both sides were. This is uncharacteristic behaviour for Crowley, I think anyway, because he would know that some of the Angels get away with all kinds of shit and STILL never Fall. Azzie... ahh, I love him, but I don’t think he would.

And A!Crowley STOOD like Azzie would... Crowley has this... way he sort of stands still (ie. trying to be cool but he’s really not). He wasn’t doing that at all in this scene. And the fact he was concerned about his clothes getting ruined? Yeah, when has that ever stopped Crowley? It was sort of a sweet thing that  this Lovely here pointed out and I only remembered about it when I read this post. Azzie didn’t want Crowley’s brand new coat to get ruined, aww. 

Jumping back to C!Aziraphale, still super quiet and indifferent and almost ANNOYED at the proceedings, and not once does he stammer at all. Azzie always stammers (a little more than his usual speech patterns, anyway) when facing the Angels, especially Gabriel, but this is legit the first time he doesn’t. Just smart-arse remarks and a “devil may care” (hur dur) attitude about the proceedings. 

I think I was 90% sure about my theory about the twist when the the bathtub scene that follows appears, because it didn’t really make sense to me in my head that the Holy Water WASN’T doing anything. The demons later surmise it’s because they’ve “gone native”, but are they really sure? Hmm. Anyway, this whole scene is HILARIOUS to me upon rewatch, because it’s now Azzie CERTAIN that he can’t be harmed here from the punishment even if he’s wearing Crowley’s face, and he FINALLY lets himself BE his own person. Funny how him seeing through a demon’s eyes is WHY he finally lets go (which, you know, is kind of what happened with Crowley 6000 years before... realized the world wasn’t fair and it wasn’t going to treat him with kindness). He finally understands Crowley, I think, in a way, because of this incident. 

Azzie is FINALLY certain and unafraid of being himself. He no longer stammers, and literally strikes fear into the demons in the dorkiest of ways and THEN secures Crowley’s future of being left alone. That tiny little thing there is really sweet and so Azzie. 

As for C!Aziraphale, he’s a dramatic bitch in the Hellfire to scare away the Angels. And though it’s not seen, I’m certain Crowley would have guaranteed Azzie’s safety in the same way that Azzie did his... I’m just assuming since it’s alluded to in their final park-bench conversation.

And – segue! – as we switch back to the park bench scene, I think this was when I was, on my first watch, all “yep, they switched”. Look at even just the camera pan-in: they’re sitting on the wrong sides (Crowley has ALWAYS sat to Azzie’s left-hand side), and Azzie is slouching. Azzie NEVER slouches, just as Crowley is never straight-backed and proper when he sits. I absolutely adore Tennant playing a reassuring-Azzie so beautifully, and then the uptick in the intonation of “Anyone looking?” is SO Aziraphale, that if you hadn’t picked up the clues by now, that should have set you off, as well as... why would Aziraphale know if “anyone is looking”? Crowley has ALWAYS been the one who’s able to sense other beings around, and I feel like it’s BECAUSE of his status as a demon that he can do this (as a former angel, it might be a “skill” he retained when he fell, and then gained the skill to sense other demons, so then he would be able to tell if either-or are around, whereas Azzie would only be able to sense love, happiness, and other angels, is my theory).

AHHH And then. AND THEN, Sheen’s impersonation of Tennant’s speech patterns when he says “Right. Swap back then?” and then with the face he makes. It’s ALL Crowley right there. GAWD, perfection.

I love their little interaction after the switch... Azzie is just SO DAMNED PROUD OF HIMSELF, WHAT A PRECIOUS CINNAMON ROLL. And Crowley is enamoured by it all. He VISIBLY sees the change in Azzie, what seeing the world through Crowley’s eyes has done to him. So much so he chances to ask Azzie out, and he FINALLY accepts, no hesitation.

AH. That’s a WHOLE other meta in-of itself.

Next, Part 2, is my head canon for the lead up to this scene. It’s more of a musing than anything else, spawned by a thought I had about why are they able to switch so easily... and how did they know that they could? It won’t be nearly as long as this so I should have it up in a few days when I have a free moment :)

Anyway, I’d love for y’all to add your own thoughts or expand upon mine here if you’ve anything to say!

Cheers everyone, and welcome new people to my blog that my other GO meta may have enticed you to here <3 We’ll see how many meta this show squeezes out of my brain, probably not nearly as much as Johnlock does, but there we are, LOL <3

#good omens #go meta #go final twist #spoilers #go character analysis #go scene analysis #my meta #my thoughts

[fire-fira]

Unstoppable Until I Break

(PART 1)

PART 2

[Unstoppable Until I Break Ao3 version]

Author’s Note:  This has been a long time in coming, far longer than intended, but I think the final result is well worth it. Parts of this fic would not be possible without @insuffera6le6itch‘s fics to lay the groundwork for how I headcanon La’gaan’s past beyond what little we’ve been given, and there are several points and lines inspired by or borrowed from her works directly. Aurelius, Kai, and Galeo all belong to her. You have my deepest thanks insuffera6le6itch, for your amazing works, for your permission to use characters and concepts, for conversations that helped me fine-tune things, and my thanks to you and @captainjerkface both for that headcanon. (To my readers, if you don’t know it already, you’ll find out just how brutal it is when you get there.)

As with last time, @perichat‘s art piece that goes with this fic is [here].

And as a reminder, for the sake of Spanish speakers, know that ‘migas‘ is the canon Atlantean word for ‘impure,’ so when you run into that word it isn’t what immediately comes to mind. Forewarning to all, this part of the fic has darker and more brutal moments than Part 1, so be prepared for it to get bad.

If you haven’t read part 1, you’re going to want to before you read part 2.

Without further ado, I give you the second part of Unstoppable Until I Break.

Summary: La’gaan has survived and endured through more than most, but when a hostage situation in Atlantis means he may have to save a living nightmare, he is left with his thoughts and the question of just how far he is willing to go…

Trigger Warning: Fictionalized racism, discrimination, violence, sea-nazis, off-screen death, mentioned abandonment. Word Count: 13,817

-------------------------------------

Things were quiet for a long time after that, but the tension was much worse. No one said anything about what had taken place in the cleansing room; if they had, La’gaan knew he would have been expelled. Who would believe two kisegra when there were five ‘pure’ students involved? But clearly what La’gaan had done back then was too heavy a blow to the pride of Ronal and his friends for them to want to admit to. It would have been too shameful for them to admit that a kisegra had gotten into a fight with the five of them and won. It would have been even more shameful to admit that they had lost to an eleven-year-old when they were fifteen to seventeen. Ronal and his friends had said nothing about the incident, and La’gaan and Topo hadn’t said anything about it.

He turned the spear-hook over in his hands, looking at the edge he was altering from another angle. It wasn’t quite as streamlined as he was hoping for yet, but he still had plenty to work with to get it where he wanted without sacrificing the sturdiness of it. Of course having the outer edge serrated and leaving the other side smooth and blade-like could change the balance and the hydrodynamics of it, but he could easily restore the original balance when he reapplied the abalone shell and pearls. La’gaan flipped it back over to inspect the original placement tracks he’d been carving into the whale bone. Still potentially useful, but whether he would have to alter the path or not depended on how deep he made the serrated edge.

It was ironic really; after Topo had been cornered La’gaan had sworn to himself that he would never be the one at fault for Ronal’s death. No matter how bad things got he had been determined to never entertain the thought of killing someone. The memory of the incident that he had tried to bury, the incident that was simultaneously one of the worst and best things that had happened to him, and had led to his being able to attend the Conservatory in the first place— even though he’d had no choice— had been enough for him to decide that he never wanted to be in a place where kill or be killed were his only options. And yet here he was with a spear-hook in his hands, taking on an increasingly lethal shape while his mind played over the things he wished he had done to Ronal back then. The phantom taste of blood ghosted on his tongue.

La’gaan shoved the thought aside— better not to think too much on inflicting that sort of harm or the idea of becoming something he would hate— and ran his thumb over the serrated edge, following the direction of the serrates. Sharp, hard, and still in need of work. There was a graininess to them that lingered from his carving. He blew a puff of air on the spear-hook to clear away some of the grit before continuing.

It was true that no one involved in that incident had said anything about what had happened, but the fact still stood that La’gaan and Topo knew what had happened to Ronal and his friends. Both of them had been living proof to the five of them that their secret and their shame were known and they couldn’t pretend it had never happened. That was probably why, when the unthinkable happened, they targeted Topo again.

***

La’gaan was twelve. Things had been going well. While things had been tense for about a year, there hadn’t been any further attacks— at least none on him or his friends. At the same time, tensions had been growing and the other kisegra had become increasingly nervous; there were whispers that there were active purists in the area and people were getting hurt, but so far there had been nothing solid. Snide remarks and the occasional slur thrown La’gaan’s direction were easy to dismiss when none of the ‘pure’ students had made an attempt to attack him or anyone around him. So despite the tensions things were good, and La’gaan had been excited when he heard that Kaldur was coming back from the surface to visit and that he was bringing a couple of his friends— Superboy and Miss Martian specifically. He had been hoping Kaldur’s visit would help alleviate some of the awkwardness since Garth and Tula had decided to start swimming together, but no such luck.

Introductions had been easy enough, aside from the fact that Kaldur had apparently felt the need to include Ronal and Sha’ark in his introductions. While La’gaan didn’t like it, he recognized Kaldur’s efforts to not be playing favorites for what they were. Kaldur had become much more politically aware since he’d officially become the king’s protégé and had gone to the surface. As such, making sure that two of the most powerful players at the Conservatory— Ronal as the son of the consul magistrate of Poseidonis, and Nanaue Sha’ark the current vassal-king of Nanauve— had been the logical move. Others could meet the two surface-dwellers at will, which at least accounted for why their small group of friends were the only others present. Even so, La’gaan would have preferred if Ronal wasn’t there; Sha’ark either for that matter. La’gaan had rarely interacted with the young vassal-king, but he found he’d had a low tolerance for Sha’ark’s attitude of, ‘If you think kisegra are barbarians I’ll show you just how much of a Neptune-damned barbarian I am when I rip your head off, chum.’ It was a conflicting feeling; on one hand La’gaan understood all too well why Sha’ark was so aggressive and willing to tear into someone, but on the other hand he was a king with an enormous amount of power who didn’t seem to care if anyone weaker than him got hurt— and that reminded La’gaan entirely too much of the bastard he’d been trying to get away from when Mera found him.

Miss Martian seemed friendly and Superboy came off as somewhat aloof. Any uncertainty La’gaan had was drowned out by his excitement. And La’gaan, as interested as he was with the surface, couldn’t stop himself from blurting out, “And are you two typical of the surface?” He felt like kicking himself the moment the words were out of his mouth, but it was too late. He had intended to direct it at M’gann, but she didn’t seem to notice as she quickly swam over to Lori. La’gaan didn’t know how to react to that; he’d never been outright ignored like that before.

Instead Superboy awkwardly answered, “Not exactly…”

That awkwardness dramatically increased as M’gann said, “I’ve always loved mermaids!” before proceeding to take on a tail like Lori’s. “What do you think?” She clearly intended it as a compliment, but it fell flat with a discomfort that was difficult to cut through.

“I am… flattered?” Lori stammered. La’gaan couldn’t blame her for feeling awkward; the sense of M’gann shaping a tail almost like it was a costume or a choice was just… There was no good way to respond, especially since she wasn’t atlantean and didn’t get it.

Despite that, La’gaan dismissed it— he liked M’gann just based off her pleasant demeanor and it didn’t seem fair to hold it against her when she didn’t intend to offend anyone. M’gann clearly had no idea the effect her physical shift had had, so it only would have made the situation more uncomfortable to call attention to it.

“Well, this has been… charming…” The barely contained contempt was practically dripping from Ronal’s tone as he turned to leave. “…But I should go.”

“What’s the matter chum? Feeling outnumbered?” Sha’ark sneered.

Rather than pay attention to either of them (and the fight that Sha’ark was clearly itching for) La’gaan tried to talk to M’gann again. “So what’s it really like on the surface?”

“Other than drier?” Blubber added, hovering behind La’gaan. By that point La’gaan was so used to Blubber looming over him due to his massive size that he barely even noticed it happening anymore.

However, Sha’ark was still spoiling for a fight and wasn’t about to let Ronal’s absence stop him. Sometimes La’gaan really didn’t like the vassal-king. “And tastier. Know what I mean, chum?” Sha’ark snarled at Superboy. Before the surface-dweller could reply Garth and Tula arrived, hand-in-hand.

‘So much for things not being awkward.’

“Kaldur!” Garth called out happily.

“M’gann. Superboy. These are my dearest friends, Tula and Garth.” Kaldur’s tone was happy enough, but he didn’t quite succeed at hiding the way his face fell as soon as he noticed their linked hands.

Garth’s smile widened as he said, “You are both welcome in Atlantis.”

“Yes, any friend of Kaldur’s is a friend of ours!” Tula’s smile was bright and welcoming, in complete contrast with Kaldur’s discomfort.

They might have continued on like that, trying to awkwardly paddle through an increasingly uncomfortable conversation, when Topo turned up— and along with him the vague smell of burnt flesh.

Surprisingly enough, Kaldur was the first one to recognize Topo’s scent past the burnt-flesh smell. “Topo?” As soon as he spotted the younger boy he swam over to him. “Topo, I want you to meet my friends…”

Topo, who had been missing for two days, feebly tried to swim away with the shaky comment, “Uh… Maybe some other time…”

Kaldur gently caught Topo’s wrist, was about to say something else, and then his eyes went wide. “What is this? Topo! Who did this to you?!”

La’gaan had already felt like his heart sank as soon as it clicked that something had happened to Topo, that he hadn’t simply decided to visit his family for two days and absentmindedly had forgotten to tell any of them, but with Kaldur’s words the smell of burned flesh and Topo’s demeanor made entirely too much sense. The moment La’gaan was close enough to get a brief glimpse of the word carved onto Topo’s chest, it felt like his heart sank into his gut. He didn’t have to see it clearly to know what it said.

Lori took charge, gently pushing Topo ahead of her as La’gaan darted ahead and Blubber brought up the rear. “It does not concern you, Kaldur’ahm,” she said firmly. It might not have been fair for them to shut him out, but Kaldur was kamala and they weren’t— there were things he couldn’t possibly understand about what it was like for other kisegra. There were things he could risk or dare to confront that could easily result in any of them turning up dead if they did the same.

“Ah, squidboy’s chum. And chum gets what it deserves. Swallowed,” Sha’ark said contemptuously before swimming away.

La’gaan turned to dart back, ready to tear into Sha’ark— king or not— only to be brought up short by a firm hand on his elbow from Lori. He turned to look at her, furious, but she didn’t budge.

“La’gaan, not now. He’s not worth it. We need you.” Her eyes darted to Topo and back again and her tone dropped lower. “Blubber and I aren’t like you. We can’t fight like you do. And if we run into anyone before we can get Topo safe? Like whoever did this? …We need you.”

“Sha’ark just-”

“Sha’ark doesn’t matter,” she snapped.

La’gaan hesitated, looked from her to Topo to Blubber, and let the tension bleed out of him. She was right. As annoyed as he was at Sha’ark for writing off Topo the way he had, his rage was about whoever had carved the word migas on Topo’s chest. “Your room?” His tone was quiet, subdued. There was no point in suggesting going to the infirmary until all of them had calmed down, no point until Topo felt ready to.

“I have medical supplies.”

La’gaan nodded and turned back to lead the way to Lori’s dorm. The trip was slower than any of them would have liked and it was done in silence. None of them even dared to question Topo where just anyone might overhear them.

Once they were in Lori’s room and the door was closed, she directed Topo to sit on her sleeping pod while she bustled around pulling out all of her medical supplies just in case there was anything that she might need while she worked. Blubber blocked the door with his bulk and La’gaan drifted over to the window to keep an eye out. “Topo, when did it happen?”

“Y-yesterday? No… I… d-don’t know how long…”

“You’ve been missing two days,” La’gaan said grimly.

Blubber couldn’t quite meet Topo’s eyes as he quietly said, “We thought you went to visit your family.”

Topo stared down at his feet, trying to contain his trembling. “I… I was going to the old temple… It happened two days ago.”

Lori came close, eyeing the wounds. “Can you get your shirt off? We don’t want it getting in the way.” Topo nodded, tried, but couldn’t contain the involuntary cry of pain as the burns on his chest pulled. “La’gaan, could you help Topo get his shirt off?”

La’gaan drifted closer to take a look and hesitated when he got a better look at the carved burns. Trying to shove his horror aside, he looked further up to find that past Topo’s facial tentacles the shirt was still intact on his neck. “…I’m going to have to rip it. That’s the only way without dragging what’s left over the burn. That okay?” After what Topo had been through, La’gaan didn’t want to reach for him without forewarning.

“Yeah. Okay.”

With that shaky approval, La’gaan took hold of the top edge of the hole in Topo’s shirt and carefully tore it— slowly pulling it apart with a small magical boost to his strength so he wouldn’t hurt his friend. Despite his best efforts, Topo winced anyway. “Sorry.”

“I-it’s okay. I’ll be okay.” None of them said anything about how obvious a lie that was.

As La’gaan carefully helped him get the shirt off his shoulders and freed his arms from the sleeves Lori said, “I’m going to start cleaning it up. It might hurt, okay? Let me know if I need to stop.”

Again, Topo nodded and several long moments passed with his occasional hitched breaths of pain as Lori worked. La’gaan didn’t envy him as she plucked several threads from Topo’s wounds.

“…I might not be able to cover this until later, just to make sure the wound doesn’t bind to the bandages,” she murmured.

Though she didn’t say it, La’gaan knew (thanks to his own pursuit of healing magic) it wasn’t good if she was taking that approach. It was only after Lori had cleaned up the wounds to the best of her ability— trying to use healing magic only to find her efforts thwarted due to the fact the injury had been magic-inflicted, which left her only with more physical means— that La’gaan dared to ask, “Topo, who did this?”

Topo wouldn’t look up. His trembling kicked up a notch. It wasn’t that La’gaan wanted to force Topo to think about it, but seeing the state his friend was in he couldn’t help the wave of bubbling rage that made him want to hunt down whoever was at fault. He wanted to hunt them down and make them regret having ever put a hand on Topo.

“Who hunted you down?” No answer. Topo wouldn’t look up. La’gaan could feel a twist in his gut. “Was it Ronal?” Lori and Blubber both gasped. Topo hesitantly looked up, and though he didn’t say anything the look in his eyes was enough. “Was it more than just him?” Silence, but Topo didn’t deny it. “Was it them?” Topo swallowed thickly and looked away. La’gaan could feel the fins on the back of his head bristling as an enraged snarl slid onto his face. “Blubber, I’m gonna need you to move,” he said, his rage held in check, but entirely too obvious.

“La’gaan, what are you going to do?” Blubber asked nervously.

“Blubber. Please. Move.”

Lori nervously floated upward a little. “La’gaan, what’s this about? What does Ronal have to do with anything?”

“Ronal and his jackass friends did this to Topo. The same bastards who tried cornering him before to get to me.”

“What-”

La’gaan cut Blubber off with a snarl. “A year ago. Topo took a long time getting back to us when he went looking for a book. It was because those bastards cornered him. And this time? This time I wasn’t there. They could have killed him. So I’m going to hunt those hagfish-sucking deep-beasts and I’m going to make them wish they never touched Topo. I’m going to make those purist pieces of shark-shit think twice about ever hunting one of us again. So please move.”

Lori and Blubber exchanged a look while Topo shrank back. For a moment La’gaan thought they weren’t going to let him go, that they would argue that La’gaan would only risk having the same thing happen to him or that he might get himself killed, that they might argue that calling Ronal and his friends purists was too strong an accusation without proof. As such, he was surprised when Lori said, “We’re going with you. Topo, come with us so we know you’re safe. Okay?”

Topo hesitated, but nodded and started carefully pulling his shirt back on with Lori’s help.

***

That entire situation rapidly spiraled out of control. They’d confronted Ronal and his friends, it got broken up by Kaldur and the others, and four hours later Mera had been abducted by the purists and Ocean Master. La’gaan, Lori, Blubber, Topo, Garth, and Tula had been pulled in to help Kaldur, Kon, and M’gann at almost 1:00 in the morning. Sha’ark had only been prevented from biting off the head of one of the purists by Lori tail-slapping the purist out of Sha’ark’s range. It had been as Sha’ark and Lori were disagreeing over the acceptability of cannibalism that a poison or something similar dispersed in the water, tailored to affect kisegra. The last time La’gaan had felt that weak he’d been recovering from ekstassa. That weakness… that uncertainty of survival… It wasn’t something he had ever cared to feel again. And if that hadn’t been enough, though La’gaan was too out of it to be included in the final fight, afterward he got the confirmation he needed to know that Ronal had been one of the purists involved.

Ronal, who had revealed himself after Ocean Master made it clear he was trying to cause a civil war and that a war had been his motivation all along. Ronal, who had followed Ocean Master under the assumption that his goal had been to put the purists in control. Ronal who La’gaan knew had had a hand in scarring Topo. Ronal, who had turned on Ocean Master due to the difference in motivation. Ronal, who had been pardoned because he’d taken the Queen’s side.

Ronal, who had been able to be convincing enough for even Lori and Topo to buy into his claims that he would never go back to the purists.

The thought made La’gaan want to be sick.

When they had heard that Ronal was pardoned, Sha’ark was ready to kill Ronal. It was the only time before or since that La’gaan had been tempted to stay back and just let him.

He dusted off the spear-hook before flipping it a couple of times in his hand, tossing it up in the air and catching it again to test its balance. It was trying to take on a spin in the direction of the un-serrated side. Lousy for maintaining the balance with the serrations— at least until he added the decorations again. It was exactly what he wanted to see. In a way, it matched exactly how he’d felt after that incident— unbalanced, but capable of inflicting damage. Perhaps that was why he had made up his mind that he was going to be the first kisegra admitted into the Royal Guard of Poseidonis; it was an effort to reassert balance and to push back against the authority Ronal might eventually have. It was an effort to block him from getting more power with the royal family.

***

“Again,” Theul demanded as La’gaan tried to right himself. The Conservatory’s Combat Master was a fair teacher, but he demanded nothing less than the best from any of his students who had any interest in being royal guards. He knew what it took, how much work had to be put in, how far he could push his students, and how much harder La’gaan had to work to prove himself.

“I can’t breathe for a minute?” the 13-year-old complained with an exhausted frustration.

“The royal family’s enemies won’t give you that chance La’gaan. You have to be ready. Now right yourself and try it again.” In many ways Theul reminded La’gaan of Aurelius, the adoptive father he’d had for three all too short years— at least in terms of how firm and patient he could be, along with the unshakeable belief that La’gaan was entirely capable of proving himself to be among the best. In other ways he was an infuriating hardass who kept pushing when La’gaan felt ready to scream.

La’gaan finally righted himself with a ragged sigh. “I’m sure some people consider this torture.”

A hint of a smile tugged at Theul’s lips before the Combat Master could help himself. “Need I remind you that you’re the bold guppy who hunted me down and demanded to be trained to enter the Royal Guard? If this is torture, it’s a torture you signed up for all on your own.”

La’gaan scowled. Initially he had been cautious about bantering with Theul due to the fact that the old man was ‘pure’ in addition to having been close to 300 and having trained all of the current royal guards, but after having been his student for almost a year that caution had worn off. “I didn’t think you’d say yes. I’m still not sure if you’re trying to drive me off.”

“If I wanted to drive you off, then I never would have taken you as a student. I challenge you because you’re more than capable of it. Now, again! I won’t repeat myself another time.”

La’gaan darted forward, yet again trying to get through Theul’s defenses and carefully getting blocked at every turn. Several rounds later La’gaan sprawled in an exhausted heap and had sunk to the floor of the training arena below.

Theul allowed himself to float down and, in a display of complete disregard for the decorum of someone of his station, sat on the floor near La’gaan as if he was a man a tenth of his age. “Now then, tell me what you did wrong.”

“I died.”

That startled a brief laugh from Theul. “Besides that, child. You were being…”

“Too predictable,” La’gaan groaned as he draped an arm over his eyes.

“And we…?”

“‘Memorize the forms when we don’t know how to fight. When we know how to fight, we move beyond the forms as needed’,” he recited.

“So what did you do?”

“…Tried to stick to the form when I should’ve just gone for your face.”

“But you know that wouldn’t have worked because…?”

La’gaan gave an aggravated sigh before reciting, “‘Even when moving beyond the forms we need to control our attacks’.”

Though La’gaan couldn’t see the old man’s smile, he could hear how pleased he was as he said, “Good. You’re learning. When you’re ready, go get yourself something to eat and then get on your studies. This training session is dismissed.”

La’gaan lifted his arm so he could aim a dubious look at Theul. “That’s it?”

Theul looked decidedly amused, the corners of his eyes crinkling as he tried and failed to repress a smile. “La’gaan, you already train more than any other student I’ve had. So unless you want to continue ‘torturing’ yourself, then that’s it for today.”

La’gaan considered arguing or complaining, came up with a blank, and settled for letting his arm drop back down as he gave an overdramatic groan instead. Theul only chuckled before getting up and swimming away. La’gaan laid there for a while longer, his exhaustion dragging at his limbs and encouraging him to stay put. Theul was right, he pushed himself harder than most others would have, and given a chance he probably would have pushed himself even harder— even if the two of them had the unspoken agreement that La’gaan could put all of the blame for his frustration on the old man rather than acknowledging the fact that Theul often pushed him to slow down and think things through. Ever since the incident with the purists he’d been determined to be the best, and he was fortunate that Theul was more than willing to help him get there. Not bad for an orphan from the outer provinces with an unknown past.

Finally he pushed himself up, trying to ignore the protests of his body, and pushed himself up away from the arena floor. Food was more than welcome, as his stomach rather bluntly reminded him at that moment. With a mildly annoyed grunt he angled to head in the direction of the Conservatory’s cafeteria. If nothing else, he could at least get some food before retreating to his room.

It was on the way that he almost bumped into Ronal. La’gaan pulled up short with a small burst of magic to stop his forward drift (done far less gracefully than he would have cared to admit thanks to his current level of exhaustion) and immediately scowled in response to the glare Ronal aimed at him. “Be careful about where you’re going,” Ronal snapped with a veneer of politeness.

This was how it was, how it had been, since the incident. Ronal knew he was under watch to a certain extent (and had likely gotten a severe lecture from the consul magistrate herself about his actions), so he had made an effort to put forward the appearance of being every bit the appropriate son of the consul— polite, diplomatic, and perpetually avoiding anything that might cause any accusations against him to stick. La’gaan didn’t buy it for an instant.

“If you haven’t noticed, we’re near the cafeteria. It’s crowded,” La’gaan retorted with a barely repressed growl.

Ronal gave him a look dripping with disdain. “Not crowded enough to warrant you getting in my way.”

La’gaan’s eyes narrowed slightly. Two could play at this game. “Is that a statement about this part of the Conservatory? Or more general?”

Ronal straightened his spine, rage dancing in his eyes that his mask of disinterest did nothing to disguise. “What’s this? Trying to talk like you’re from Poseidonis and meant to be among the nobility? I didn’t think you had it in you.”

“Funny how you keep saying things like that and no one who matters cares what you think about me.” La’gaan had to be careful, he knew that, but damned if he’d let the shark-bait’s current sweep aside his own.

Ronal very clearly wanted to lash out in that moment, to make things physical and force La’gaan to duck his head and get out of his way. He couldn’t afford a physical fight and he knew it— both due to their track record and because a fight in a place that crowded would be impossible to miss. So instead he leaned in close as he said in a low toned sneer, “This thing of you being here? It isn’t going to last. So save yourself the embarrassment and start looking for something more fitting now.”

Clearly Ronal had learned nothing in the years they’d known each other. Exhausted from his training or no, there was no way in all the deeps he was going to let this slide. No, instead every last ounce of spite rose up in his mind and gave him the perfect response. With a smile that might have been taken as polite by anyone who didn’t really know him, La’gaan cheerfully said, “You know what? You’re right. I’ve been setting my sights too low. Why stick with just trying to be one of the Royal Guard? Why not… oh… I dunno… one of the personal guards of the royal family?”

The hagfish-sucking waste-of-space froze, his eyes widening slightly in time with his jaw clenching in rage, barely kept in check by his sharp awareness that he couldn’t afford to have others think the pardon for his past actions had been misplaced. But his outrage was so damned satisfying for La’gaan to see.

La’gaan’s smile shifted into a— still seemingly polite— satisfied grin. “Good try for trying to give me a heads-up on rough waters, but I think I’ve got this. Can’t get anything done if I just go belly-up, you know? And anyone trying to drive me off… Well, they’re just gonna have to learn to live with disappointment.”

The struggle in Ronal’s eyes was a sight to see. He was livid, but there were too many people around, too many who were starting to pay attention to their interaction and watch warily, and too big a risk if he acted on what he wanted to do.

Finally moving to drift aside so he could get around the purist piece of shark-shit, La’gaan added in an unconcerned tone, “Must be rough for anyone wanting to see me fail though, knowing I’m not going anywhere and that I’ll make sure I stick around longer than they do. Can’t imagine how much sleep they’re losing at night over that. But I’m sure that’s not a problem for you. Now if you’ll excuse me, I need to go eat.” The fact that he deliberately used the Poseidonis dialect only made his point more blatant, and it was punctuated when he turned his back on Ronal and continued on his way.

There was a risk of retaliation later on if Ronal decided he could get away with it, but to La’gaan’s mind it was entirely worth it just to see that look of rage from the consul’s son.

***

That incident had been satisfying. There was no other way to put it. Having that power, seeing that look of impotent rage on Ronal’s face, knowing the purist piece of hagfish-shit hadn’t been able to do anything about his ‘polite’ mouthing off, had been satisfying beyond words. It had been enough for La’gaan to decided that was how he’d handle interactions with Ronal after that, at least so long as things remained non-physical.

And when he announced to Theul what he wanted to do and with the way he’d pushed himself even harder after that… It shouldn’t have been surprising that Theul turned around and told Queen Mera what his intentions were. It was beyond surprising that after she was told, she approached La’gaan and asked if he’d be interested in learning more about combat magic under her. (Although in retrospect, Queen Mera making that offer shouldn’t have been that surprising. This was the same woman who’d been ready to wage a one-person war to prevent Atlantis tearing itself apart before King Orin took the throne after all.)

So of course he said yes.

He’d alternated between his Conservatory course work, his combat training with Theul, and his combat magic training with the Queen. And when he wasn’t busy studying or training his fins off, he kept close to his friends and frequently got into more banter and debates than he would have imagined possible. (If he never heard Garth utter the words ‘whales’ and ‘Bohemian Rhapsody’ in the same sentence for the rest of his life he’d be ecstatic. That entire conversation was proof that sharing surface internet culture things with Garth was a mistake. A hilarious one, but a mistake that was probably going to get large numbers of people questioning the sanity of their friend group eventually.)

It had been pleasant. It had been good. Things had been falling into place and he’d had the good fortune of finding out that Aurelius had left everything to him— so on top of everything else he’d been able to reclaim Aurelius’s home in Nanauve, his spell book, everything. As heartbreaking as it had been to face some of those memories, at the same time it had been like going home. It had felt like Aurelius had been giving his approval for the path La’gaan was on, one last time. Things had fallen and clicked into place like that had just been how they were supposed to be— not unlike the way the first pieces of pearl and abalone shell clicked into place on the spear-hook in his hands once he was satisfied that it was carved, serrated, and sharp just the way he wanted it.

His successes mounted, and he’d relentlessly proven time and time again that he would just keep getting up and keep trying. He’d had no idea how visible he would become back then, no clue the impact he was making, but he’d become impossible to miss by anyone who paid attention. That was probably part of why, when La’gaan overheard a conversation between Theul and Queen Mera, the old combat instructor gave the suggestion he did.

***

Fourteen may have been on the slightly young side for La’gaan to have decided on his tattoos, but he’d hardly let that stop him any more than anything else up to that point. Well… maybe fourteen wasn’t young to start thinking about it or decide on it, but it was certainly young to get them. He’d put a lot of thought into it though; he’d done research, made up his mind, talked out the possible uses for what he’d decided on with Queen Mera, and he had no regrets. That the runes for his shoulders were associated with quarry workers in the outer provinces was a deliberate statement on his part, but no one would know just how deep the meaning behind those runes went if he had any say about it. He’d given his Queen his reasoning behind his choice— at least what he’d been willing to say— and she’d approved it and made certain the tattooist wouldn’t argue.

Which was what had led him to put off everything else to spend the majority of four hours getting worked on.

The tattooist had tried to suggest that they spread it out over a few days (honestly, if they’d had their way it would have been over three weeks), but La’gaan had insisted on getting it all done in one sitting. Because of course he had. Because he was just that damned stubborn. Magic-anchoring tattoos were no joke and, according to what he’d heard from those rare few who got both, hurt worse than regular tattoos. Fortunately he’d already planned on and arranged for being non-functional for a while.

“And done,” they said as they pulled away after the last touch of the needle.

La’gaan groaned in relief, more than glad that it was finally done.

“You’re going to want to take it easy for a while, and no magic use for at least a week.”

La’gaan didn’t even have to look to know they were giving him a warning look. He’d had looks like that from Lori aimed at him enough times to know when someone was giving him that look. “I don’t think I’m gonna wanna move for at least a week.”

“With as rushed as you wanted this, ideally you shouldn’t move for a month, but based off the stories I’ve heard of you that’s too much to hope for,” the tattooist retorted before turning to set down the needle and begin the process of magically cleansing their tools. “Now, off with you. I don’t want to hear a word about you trying to use magic for the next week and doing something that would require me to fix anything.”

He laid there stomach down, on the reclining seat that might have been carved rock or coral, for a moment or two longer. He knew the moment he went to move his arms the bone-deep ache in his shoulders and back would probably sharpen into a stabbing pain, but he was also highly aware that if he tried to use a push of magic— even a small one! —he would instantly regret it. “Wasn’t rushed,” he grumbled, “You took the time you needed to.”

They scoffed, almost slamming down one of the ink pots as they did so. “You may have a ridiculously high pain tolerance, but you still have no concept of how unreasonable most people would think it is to cram three weeks’ worth of work into four hours. The reason most people with any sense would stretch it out is pain management! Especially for extensive as yours are-”

La’gaan gingerly pushed himself up with a hiss and slid his right leg up and over the carved seat so both his legs were on the same side, turned away from the tattooist. “Does that mean I’m going get a lecture from one of the medics after getting hunted down later?” Snarking at the person who had repeatedly stabbed him with a needle for the past four hours probably wasn’t the smartest thing he’d done, but the pain was making him a little snippy. He’d get over it.

“I should send one of them after you, for as stubborn and hardheaded as you’re being. Now, out. Damned reckless fool.”

Pushing off so he could drift in the direction of the door was a challenge without using his arms as much as he was used to, but at least he could respect the frustrated request. Still, that didn’t keep him from glancing back at the brown-skinned and green-haired kamala with an attempt at a grin. “So I shouldn’t recommend people to go to you?”

The droll look they aimed at him probably could have made a sheltered noble wither. From one snarly person close to the Queen to another, not so much. “You’re lucky that Her Majesty requested my services for this, that she’s my friend, and that I’ve had experience enough dealing with her nonsense— because you’re every bit as infuriating as she can be! Now get out before I decide to hunt down the head of the Conservatory’s medical program and have him tell you off!”

That was one threat La’gaan didn’t care to put to the test, so he took the warning and left. He’d continued his courses in healing magic and medical care out of practicality (thanks to the various fights he’d been in), so he knew already what lectures from Eugapetus were like and he really did not want to tempt that old man’s wrath. He’d rather deal with Theul knocking him flat on his ass fifty times in a row than deal with another scathing lecture from the head of the Conservatory’s medical department. At least La’gaan knew Eugapetus’s temper and sarcasm had nothing to do with La’gaan being a kisegra (Lori had become the darling of the medical department by that point because she had so heavily put her focus into the medical courses offered by the Conservatory and she was good at it), but everything to do with being irritated when one of his students knew better yet went ahead and did something stupid anyway. And this? Cramming three weeks’ worth of tattooing into four hours? Not to mention magic-anchoring tattooing at that, in that time frame? It would definitely count as a stupid decision in Eugapetus’s estimation.

Which was also why La’gaan had made a believable excuse to let him dodge his medical classes for a week or two.

Still, he made up his mind to track down Queen Mera to show her the end result of the work he’d had done. She was the one who had requested that specific tattooist’s services and had discretely covered the costs after all, so it only seemed reasonable to him to let her be the first to see the end result. That it would, hopefully, head off any possible lectures from her about his impatience— especially with the quality of work having been flawless— was simply a bonus. And maybe the Queen would be willing to support the pile of half-lies and excuses he’d used to paddle around having to go to some of his classes while he healed. Maybe.

La’gaan took care to stick to the back halls that generally saw less traffic as he made his way from the side-building and into the Conservatory proper on his way to Queen Mera’s office. It was more of a roundabout way of getting there, but it kept anyone from taking notice of him or the fact that he was trying to avoid using his arms— not to mention that it meant avoiding the embarrassment of having someone see his repeated near-collisions with the walls as he went. After about the fifth time he’d kept from crashing into a wall by using a foot to push himself away from it, he felt extremely glad Garth wasn’t around or he’d probably have been hearing jokes comparing him to a sunfish by that point. The very thought made him wince.

Finally, after too long, he drew close to the large ornate double doors of Queen Mera’s office, one of which was ajar. She was clearly inside, which was an immense relief since it meant he didn’t have to go looking elsewhere, but just as he was about to aim for the open door, he heard another voice inside— Theul.

Maybe it was because he was already tired on top of being sore, or maybe it was because he knew that retreating to his room would have been just as time-consuming as getting there so it was easier to stay put and wait, or maybe even both— but whatever it was, he changed direction to come to a stop next to the door and out of sight. He didn’t intend to eavesdrop, he really didn’t! But his curiosity got the better of him and he couldn’t help but hear what they were saying anyway.

“-shows a great deal of promise,” Theul said emphatically, though he was keeping his voice low. “He never misses practice, applies himself consistently, keeps pushing himself harder than likely anyone I’ve taught… I daresay he might even be as stubborn as you.”

Queen Mera made an amused sound, something that might have been described as a brief laugh if only just, but her genuine warmth was unmistakable. “I think you may be right.”

“If I didn’t know better, I’d say he has every intent to be as skilled as I am by the time he hits 40— and that he might be one of the few to pull it off.”

“Without burning himself out by going for too much too soon?” Her tone was almost coy, a veiled taunt that she knew what the old man might be hinting at but was almost challenging him in her efforts to coax him into saying it outright.

“He may be stubborn, hardheaded, and prone to pushing himself entirely too hard, but he also knows his limits,” Theul said with certainty. “Mera… You’ve listened to my advice thus far, and we’ve had plenty of discussions to keep the various streams of his pursuits flowing together smoothly to keep him from battling the current until he’s dead in the water from exhaustion. I may be out of line and presumptuous for saying this, but I think we both know he could do better than just a guard.”

There was a beat of silence and La’gaan held his breath, his fins trembling as if they couldn’t make up their mind to slick down in worry or perk up in interest. Queen Mera’s noncommittal “Oh?” didn’t help matters.

“…” Theul breathed out a gusty sigh, deciding to push propriety further to finally say outright what was on his mind. “Mera, I think he is good enough to become protégé to either you or your husband. La’gaan has skill and determination enough, along with a good heart, that I know he will do you proud. He just has to be given the chance.”

La’gaan’s eyes went wide as he was hit with slack-jawed disbelief. Theul. Was recommending. Him. To be the protégé of either the Queen or King? Him? A kisegra?! Not even a kamala, not even a non-kamala kisegra from the inner provinces, not even someone with a known family— HIM?! He was an orphan! He was from the outer provinces, his past was a mystery, he was a complete unknown from an unknown background with an unknown family and an equally confusing connection to a well-meaning but rogue magic-user who might as well have fallen into the depths when he ‘disappeared’ into Nanauve up until he’d died, and Theul was suggesting HIM? Being protégé to one or both of them would take him beyond being a personal guard for any of them, it would remove him from any consideration of status as a noble or commoner, and would put him as close to the royal family as he could get without being adopted outright— far away from and beyond anything he’d ever conceived as possible and the sort of thing people like him were discouraged from even dreaming about so as to avoid disappointment. And yet Theul had suggested him. He felt like his heart might as well have stopped.

And then Queen Mera spoke.

“If I were anyone but the ‘Rebel Queen’ this conversation would have ended badly.”

“I know. But I wouldn’t have started this conversation if you weren’t, and you have a history of putting what is right before what is ‘proper’.”

Another moment of silence, and then, “True enough. And the point is made. I will think it over. Thank you for your counsel Theul.” She sounded… pleased. As if Theul had just confirmed for her something that she had already been thinking.

And La’gaan…

La’gaan was ready to explode in pure unrestrained glee. Carefully bracing his feet against the wall, he shoved off and darted away as fast as he dared. Yes, that meant he’d have to find Queen Mera later to show her the tattoos— and yes, he knew that meant the tattooist was likely to find her and tell her what he’d insisted on first— but with how much he wanted to bounce off the walls and rocket around while squawking in incomprehensible joy, he had to go take the time to collect himself so that whenever the subject was brought up to him (if it was any time soon) he’d be able to stay reasonably calm. And not start darting around or talking a mile a minute without taking the time to breathe like an excitable guppy. Or making a fool of himself. Even if part of him really didn’t want to care.

He managed to keep it contained until he got into his room and the door was closed. And then, without even caring how much his shoulders and back ached, he laughed— without restraint, without any hesitation, just complete disbelievingly giddy happiness. What did it matter if he was in pain and was going to be sore while he healed? What did it matter if he might not be able to properly use his arms for a week or more? He knew he was being considered for something he had never even dared dream of, and that was worth more than anything.

***

He’d worked hard, proved he had skill, proved he was reliable, proved he was creative and adaptable, and it had all paid off. La’gaan had gotten recognition beyond what he’d expected— beyond what he’d thought he’d been capable of! —and the fact that it had all put him closer to a Queen and King who had earned every last ounce of respect he had for them had given him such satisfaction he almost hadn’t known what to do with himself. He wasn’t supposed to know about the opportunity he was being considered for, not before the offer was made, and admitting he’d eavesdropped, even on accident, was something he felt was better to avoid acknowledging. In those days he’d had his doubts that the offer would even be made; there were a lot of things in connection with who and what he was that could easily have made viable excuses for why he shouldn’t have been given the position. It had been enough to know the recommendation was made. It had been enough.

Queen Mera had been both exasperated with the impatience he’d had for completing his tattoos and impressed at his pain tolerance when she found out, but after he’d explained himself— the sooner it was done, the sooner he’d be healed without another session waiting upstream for him— she admitted that she understood his reasoning. She hadn’t agreed with it, but she understood it. A brief lecture, a warning that once he healed and was clear to use magic again that she was going to push him harder than before for having incapacitated himself for at least a week-and-a-half physically and three weeks magically, and then it had been done and over with. Simple. And she could have made him regret it in that moment, but she hadn’t. By unspoken agreement she saved it all for their training when it continued, which he didn’t mind because it meant he hadn’t disappointed her or lost any of her respect.

Lori, on the other hand, had called him an idiot. Repeatedly. For three or four days. Usually when she was bringing him the coursework he was falling behind in while he stayed in his room to recover. Between her, Blubber, and Topo, they made sure he didn’t go without food while his efforts to move around were still too embarrassingly awkward for him to be in public. (Lori had said several times he was being ridiculous about his inability to steer well without his pain flaring to life, insisting no one was going to mock him for moving carefully or occasionally bumping into things when his tattoos were obviously fresh, but he had cheerfully told her under no uncertain terms that he wasn’t going anywhere until he could comfortably use his arms.) She had even been tempted to tell Eugapetus, but La’gaan managed to convince her to let it be (somehow). After all, it wasn’t as if he’d be able to hide the tattoos when he finally came out of hiding.

And when he did come out again, when he felt he could move reasonably well, it was to the repeated shocked looks that his tattoos were so extensive and were in roughly similar stages of healing. Everyone who put any thought into it knew what that had to mean, that he’d gotten it all done on one day. That it was just one more detail quickly woven into his reputation escaped his notice. Nothing could deter him, nothing could stop him; and once healed he was back on his efforts to improve his skills with his typical stubborn persistence. Even though he’d doubted the offer would ever come, even if the suggestion that he could be protégé to either the Queen or King had been enough, he’d sought to prove himself worthy of it.

There had been no uncertainty that whatever position he ended up with after he graduated, he was going to end up working closely with the royal family of Poseidonis. Few got to have independent lessons with Queen Mera; Garth, Kaldur, and Tula were all among that number, and so was La’gaan. With that confirmation, it wasn’t surprising when rumors started circulating which guessed accurately at the offer that had yet to be extended at that time. La’gaan hadn’t heard the rumors, hadn’t paid any mind to them. What reason did he have to care about others’ wild theories and ‘might-have-been’s?

Looking back on it now, he couldn’t help wondering… If he’d been more cautious, more aware… If he hadn’t let his happiness keep him from seeing the warning signs… Would he have noticed the unrest? The increasing number of glares in his direction from various ‘pure’ students? The increasing number of glares from Ronal? He’d been so proud of himself, so bright and vibrant, unstoppable, unbreakable… He’d felt ready to take on the world.

Red eyes stared at the spear-hook in claw-bearing green webbed hands. The serrated points were sharp, the blade edge opposite was sharp, the curling hook in the center could deal a great deal of damage if any flesh caught in the gaps… It was a hunting tool, a weapon, brutal in its efficiency, made even more brutal by the unconventional serrated edge he’d given it, and yet with all the decorative pearl and abalone inlays it was startlingly beautiful as well. If someone had never seen a spear-hook in use it might have been taken as an art piece, especially with the swirling tracks and patterns of shell and dots of pearl he’d added to this one. With the right spells to harden it, it could kill quickly and efficiently or violently, all without snapping or losing a single pearl the moment it entered a body. It could have been so easy… but he didn’t reach for his magic just yet. Red eyes skimmed over the spear-hook, looking for flaws and errors as he rotated it in his hands and thought.

***

La’gaan had had many bad days in his life, had lived through terrible things he wouldn’t wish on anyone— he could be harsh and violent when the situation warranted it, yes, but that didn’t mean he’d ever wanted anyone to truly suffer— but one day in particular when he’d been 15 was high up on the list. Seeing his father die in front of him when he was 4 was up there. Nearly dying of ekstassa when he was little had been horrible, waking up to realize he’d been abandoned still clawed at his mind some nights, the night he went home to Aurelius only to find him dead with his throat slit was something that still gave him nightmares, the year he’d been trapped by Galeo as one of his various child-thieves with its perpetual threats of starvation and physical abuse… the way it had led to his attempt to escape only to end in Galeo’s death and his own near-brush with death again… the realization of what he’d done when he woke, the cloying phantom taste of blood on his tongue, the feeling of pouring every last ounce of hate and his desire to have Galeo just die even if it took La’gaan along with him… Those were the things that made up his nightmares, that he’d fought for years to purge from his mind, that he’d worked so hard to leave behind in the past because he didn’t want to become the person Galeo’s death seemed to point him toward.

He’d known what he was capable of, and La’gaan had fled from it with everything he had in him. He wanted to be the person Aurelius had seen in him, he wanted to be a person worth caring about, someone who could love and be loved by others in turn, someone who could protect others and be protected in turn, someone who others would mourn if he died, instead of just a random kisegra corpse left in the street without any more attention given than he had been back as a six-year-old dying of ekstassa in a back alley in Nanauve. That was what he’d wanted…

But on that night when he was only fifteen, he’d felt every last ounce of the same burning rage he’d felt when he killed Galeo.

A group of purists had lain in wait for him. It had to have been pre-planned, there were twelve or fifteen there, maybe more, he didn’t know. But when La’gaan had gone from making his way back to the Conservatory to suddenly being attacked and surrounded, he came to the swift realization he was probably going to die— and was hit with an immediate wall of rage. He’d been out on a trip to help Topo and his family reorganize their home in preparation for the future addition of Topo’s yet-to-be-born younger sibling, he’d been excited for them, but with the attack he immediately realized that he probably would never meet the guppy and having done the heavy lifting for their family was the only gift he was ever going to be able to give.

He was going to die.

And he was going to take down every hagfish-sucking purist piece of shit with him that he could, even if it meant burning himself out magically. Because fuck the costs to himself if he was going to die anyway.

Water churned, ribbons of blood tore out into the water, and he screamed in rage as he poured every last ounce of training he had into trying to take down as many of them as possible. He might have been successful if they hadn’t been watching him over the years, taking notes over the past failures Ronal and his ‘friends’ had had in fights against him, learning his habits and figuring out that one-on-one would always be a disaster on their end— but they had been watching. They had been learning. And so they swarmed him, making it impossible for him to get any single one of them out of commission without another attacking him or getting in the way.

“Hold him!”

“I’m trying!”

“Don’t let him- SHIT! Watch the claws!”

“Get his damned arms already!”

There were more. More than the fifteen or so he’d initially seen. So many. He struggled, he clawed, he bit, he kicked, and to his horror as much as he tried to reach for that raw explosive wave of magic he’d used when he was younger, he found himself coming up empty. Nothing. Maybe it was some small part of him determined to live and refusing to spend his life or reach further— because he knew if he reached for the nearest ley line or magic node and let go he could easily die in an instant, and spending the entirety his personal store of magic would have the same effect— but it kept him from repeating what he’d done in the past. Even so, he wouldn’t give up. He wouldn’t give them that satisfaction. He refused to let them see his fear. If they were going to kill him, he’d make sure they regretted every second of it. “I’LL FEED YOU TO THE SHARKS, YOU BA’ATHU-KEGEST PIECES OF HAGFISH-SHIT!”

He successfully wrenched an arm free to punch one purist in the jaw, prompting a crack across the face with the butt of a spear that left La’gaan tasting blood as one of the other purists spat, “Damned fish-head!”

Ignoring the pain, he snarled, “Go fuck a sunfish.” The punch to his gut was unsurprising and left him winded, but La’gaan felt it was entirely worth it.

And then he heard that laugh, the one that would haunt him for years to come. Ronal’s laugh and Ronal’s sneer after the others had finally gotten a firm grip on his arms and legs, keeping him in place so he couldn’t go anywhere. “I’m going to enjoy this.”

A vicious, contemptuous grin crept onto La’gaan’s face. “What’s the matter Ronal?” he rasped, trying to ignore his difficulty breathing, “Can’t face me one-on-one, so you bring fifty minnows to help? Pathetic.”

That now familiar look of rage flared to life in Ronal’s eyes, and when he spoke his tone was cold. “Hold him.”

“We should put it on his damned forehead.”

“If you want to risk getting near his teeth, you’re more than welcome to!” one of the other purists snapped.

“No. Get his leg. This is personal,” Ronal ordered.

That was when it clicked, when La’gaan knew they weren’t just going to kill him. No, they were going to do something far worse. He bucked and fought and screamed as they pulled his left leg out straight, as they held him tight, as he tried to kick with his right only to get a punch to the temple that left his vision blurry and his head spinning.

And then there was the burn as the first letter for that word was seared into his ankle.

***

La’gaan slammed down the spear-hook on his work table and shoved his chair back from it with a ragged breath, old rage boiling under the surface. He was shaking with the effort to keep it contained, to try to fight it back down, trying to convince himself not to go through with hardening the spear-hook, not to take it with him on the mission, not to ‘accidentally’ let it find its way into Ronal’s back.

No. He knew what he had to do. There was no choice. Fuck everything.

He got up and stormed out of his room, roaming around the halls until he found Kaldur. When La’gaan finally found him inspecting the supplies that would eventually go on the bio-ship, he said gruffly, “Kaldur. We need to talk.”

Kaldur looked up with a frown. Over the years he’d gotten to know La’gaan, he had come to recognize when the other kisegra was deadly serious. It was a rare state for him, rarer than most others realized, but when La’gaan was in that state it was always wise to listen. “La’gaan. What is the matter?”

La’gaan’s fins flicked back for a moment— his ears included (which made his agitation that much more obvious)— before he said it outright. “I can’t be on this mission. I need to be off it.”

Whatever Kaldur had been expecting, it hadn’t been that. “You are one of the few who is equipped to handle this mission-” he started, hoping La’gaan might see reason.

“Ahr,” La’gaan said firmly. His ‘no’ couldn’t have gotten any sharper. “I mean it. I cannot be on this mission. Not if there’s going to be any success.”

Kaldur’s frown deepened. “My friend, it is not like you to doubt yourself. Why do you think you need to not be involved?”

La’gaan’s lips were thin, his fins bristling, and his jaw clenched. It was only with extreme difficulty that he was keeping his hands from curling into fists. When he spoke, he fought to keep his tone as flat and even as he could, but the strain was obvious. “Because, if the bastards holding those people hostage don’t kill that son of a deep-beast Ronal, then I just might kill him myself.”

Silence stretched between them for a long minute or two. Whatever else Kaldur had known of La’gaan, even with all the fights over the years and how loud or violent he could be when provoked, he had never seen that lethal certainty from La’gaan. There was no doubt that La’gaan could and might follow through on his threat to Ronal’s life— and true to who La’gaan was and had fought to become, he was choosing to take himself out of the equation so he wouldn’t do something he felt he shouldn’t.

Kaldur let out a slow heavy sigh, knowing he’d have to rethink things and not looking forward to it, but he could at least respect that the mission was asking too much of the younger atlantean. “Very well. You are dismissed from the mission. I do not know how this will sit with our King or Queen…”

La’gaan tried to give a reassuring smile, though the result was a weak one. “Don’t worry about it. I’ll deal with it when I contact them. They can decide what they want to do with me, if anything.”

Kaldur nodded and let his friend go. These were unknown waters that La’gaan was swimming into, and as he watched the other head back the direction he’d come, he could only hope that it wouldn’t backfire. Of the three protégés to Orin and Mera left— himself, La’gaan, and A’lansha— La’gaan had the most to lose.

***

Lori and Blubber were the ones who found La’gaan after the attack, and they were the ones who had carefully helped him back to his room after Lori helped cover the burns on the inside of his left ankle with a strip of seaweed handed to her by Blubber. They were the ones to see him bloody, bruised, shaken, and screaming, “DON’T LOOK AT IT!” They were the ones who saw him shut down, withdrawn, refusing to leave his room, refusing to go to the infirmary and have it looked after, refusing to let anyone else in, almost refusing to speak as he walled everyone but the two of them out. They were the ones who saw him broken.

They were his closest friends, the closest he had to family, but if it hadn’t been for their stubborn insistence on checking in on him to make sure he slept and ate and his wounds didn’t become infected, he might have walled them out too. It wasn’t for lack of trying on his part, he shut down more attempts to reason him into getting medical attention or going back to class than he cared to admit (several times their efforts ended with him screaming at them to get out), but they stayed. They stayed and kept coming back, carefully warding away others and the rest of their friends with the believable excuse that he was sick and hadn’t been feeling well. And while he hadn’t said a single word of the thoughts racing through his mind— that he was pathetic, that he was an ugly and impure piece of shit, that if he hadn’t been such a fucking coward he would have let himself tap into a magic node and thrown all control to the ocean currents to let himself be taken out while taking every single one of those purist bastards down with him— Lori and Blubber both had had a vague idea of the turn his mind had taken.

If he’d been in less pain and able to move around better, he would have left. Left, and who knew if he would have ever bothered coming back. He didn’t even know where he’d been planning to go to, but the pain screaming in his body made it impossible for him to get around without help. So he stayed. He stayed, and hated himself, and tore himself apart mentally while Lori and Blubber patiently stayed with him and tried to help him with his nightmares during the nights he woke up screaming. He stayed and they stayed until the day something changed.

Another night, another nightmare, dreaming of that damned night again and again and again- and it suddenly stopped. And just as suddenly he was in his father’s arms. Just him being there and the realization that it was him was enough to make La’gaan break down. He cried and apologized, holding tight, apologizing for his father’s death, for having unintentionally distracted him long enough for him to get shot in the back, for having been so weak his mother left him, for not having been there when Aurelius died, for being a coward, for all of it— but Kai’s gentle words slowed the flood of his apologies. “You have nothing to be sorry for. You’re brave, strong, and have a good heart. You’ve done everything you ever needed to, and you keep on making me proud every day. How can I not be proud of you?”

Another warm presence settled next to his father, wrapping La’gaan in a sense of safety and the knowledge that he was wanted. “He’s right, Little One. You’ve done us both proud,” Aurelius said, his hand resting on La’gaan’s head the same way he used to when holding him after a bad night.

La’gaan couldn’t see him since he had his face buried against his father’s chest, but the warmth and that familiar source of comfort were unmistakably Aurelius all the same. That it wasn’t just one, but both of them, there made him break down anew. It burned and it hurt, and they held him through it all, until he finally began to feel clean again.

And when his tears were spent and he felt he could breathe, Aurelius murmured, “Neither of us have ever been disappointed in you, so please don’t think we have been. You are worth more than you know, and we will always love you. We will always be proud of you.”

“And you keep on doing us proud. Trust us Shrimp, you don’t have anything to be ashamed of. You just have to pick yourself up again, and I know you know to do that. So don’t give up. Okay?” At La’gaan’s shaky nod, Kai kissed his forehead and gave one last reassuringly tight hug. If La’gaan could have stayed there forever, he would have. But his father and Aurelius had made their point. “Okay. I love you, we both do, and always will. And as much as I’d like to keep you a little longer, it’s time to wake up.”

La’gaan shot into wakefulness with a gasp to find he’d been crying in his sleep, judging by how puffy his eyes felt. When he rubbed at his eyes to dissipate the feeling, he heard a quiet, “La’gaan, are you okay?” from Blubber. He had to have settled in the room while La’gaan was sleeping, like he and Lori had been for days now in case he had another screaming nightmare, though they’d routinely traded off. Apparently it had been Blubber’s turn.

La’gaan swallowed thickly and pulled his hands away from his eyes so he could look at his friend (who happened to be seated on the floor with open books and coursework around him). “I think… I think I need to go to the infirmary.” If Blubber lit up with a relieved smile, then La’gaan pretended not to notice. The two of them could pretend there had been no reason for anyone to worry, because they finally knew La’gaan was going to be okay.

***

When he was in his room La’gaan made the call, was relieved when it was Mera who answered, and he told her. There was little point in holding back, so he didn’t. “My Queen, I have to apologize. I had to excuse myself from the mission to deal with the hostage situation.”

Her eyebrows furrowed as she regarded him. There were worlds of possibilities that rested entirely on how she responded, and while La’gaan knew that some of those possibilities could end poorly for him, he still trusted she would make the best decision available to her. She had earned that trust and loyalty from him as few could, and he wasn’t about to stop trusting her now. Finally, after a long moment, she said evenly, “I trust you have a viable reason for refusing to be involved?”

“Yes, my Queen.”

“Being?”

He couldn’t quite control his ragged breath before he quietly admitted, “My personal feelings could have jeopardized the mission. And you don’t need the blood of the consul magistrate’s son on the hands of your protégé.”

There it was, the confession of borderline treason, the confession that he had come dangerously close to killing someone of importance from a family with a long line of history that likely could be traced back to before The Fall. The very same sort of confession that could have confirmed his status as her protégé was a disastrous mistake because he was a no-name non-kamala kisegra of the outer provinces with no family, no home, no past, with a history as clear as a cloud of silt— the only hint of his background being that he was somehow the heir of a rogue magic-user who was questionable enough to have buried his past at some point— and who dared to publicly accept a position many felt was above him. That status was cause enough for many to question his right to his position as it was, but his confession could easily have been all it would have taken for most of Atlantis to demand that he lose his position. For many, it would have been confirmation that he and everyone like him were too dangerous to be allowed any position of power. But he trusted her, and he would abide by Queen Mera’s decision.

Again that measuring look, a beat or two of silence during which he had a feeling she suddenly understood more than he’d ever let on, and then Queen Mera proved she was still every bit the Rebel Queen she had been before joining Orin on the throne of Poseidonis— the same Queen he had come to know since she picked up his unconscious, magically drained, and dangerously burnt out body on the streets of Nanauve a little over eight years ago. “La’gaan, it’s good that you told me rather than Orin.” In other words, while she loved her husband, she knew there were still some Atlantean social nuances he might not understand yet, being that he was half-surfacer and had been raised on the surface. “I understand your reasoning and respect it, and we will forget this was a problem ever worth noticing. I am proud of you for recognizing your limits and choosing not to break yourself to get past them.”

“Yes, my Queen.” It was as if he could suddenly breathe again after having almost forgotten how.

Her smile was fond and sympathetic as she said, “Rest well La’gaan. The coming days may be emotionally draining for us all.”

A smile of his own met hers in answer, worn and relieved. “Thank you, my Queen. Rest well.” And with that, they each signed off.

He was excused, he no longer had to worry about possible accusations of treason, and all there was left to do was wait to find out how the mission would end.

So he waited. Days passed. He waited, routinely kept in contact with Queen Mera while coordinating information exchanges long-distance with Blubber and Lori, kept busy, and didn’t leave the team’s base for the duration.

And when those who had gone came back— worn, weary, and subdued— he was nearby. Near enough to hear the muted conversation as they trudged by on their way to give their reports. Near enough to hear Cassie say, “We weren’t fast enough.”

Near enough to hear Kaldur’s equally quiet, “It was not your fault.”

Near enough to hear Cassie’s next comment, heated and guilty and uncertain what to feel as it was. “Maybe not, but the consul magistrate’s son is still dead. I still saw him get gutted in front of me! I- we failed.”

“We saved most of the hostages,” Kaldur corrected, gently squeezing her shoulder as they walked past La’gaan. “We cannot save everyone, but we tried. That has to be enough.”

And for all that La’gaan sympathized with her, with all of them, that did nothing to stem the tide of sudden relief that washed over him. They had tried, and it had to be enough for them. Just like knowing Ronal was finally gone was enough for him, because explaining that Ronal had still been a purist and how La’gaan had known that fact could never be an option. He was gone. It was enough.

***

It took some time to recover, for La’gaan to steady himself and be ready to move on, but eventually he was able to. The ankle-pouch he took to wearing soon after his trip to the infirmary almost never came off, keeping his deepest shame and one of his worst memories hidden from view. He picked himself up like he always had before, and he would keep going as he had been— unstoppable as ever.

So when the offer finally came, the offer he had never truly expected, to be protégé to Queen Mera and King Orin, he accepted. And just like the other three before him, it meant an elaborate ceremony to officially announce it. The day of the ceremony to officially title La’gaan as a protégé of his King and Queen, there was a lot swimming through his mind. He barely paid attention to the crowds, the throngs of people muttering, their approval or contempt wafting in the current past him unheeded. The brightly lit interior of the palace was decorated in a dazzling display, emphasizing the formality of the event, outwardly showing the approval the royal family was giving him in direct opposition to the subtle (and often not-so-subtle) scowls aimed his direction. It was barely a foot note in his attention. He wasn’t even paying attention to the tables and tables and tables of food— some varieties he’d never even seen in his life and far beyond anything he would have imagined— that were laid out with a precision that felt unreal.

No, instead he was focused on staying close to his Queen and listening to her quiet explanation of how the ceremony would go for what must have been the tenth time; something he was grateful for since it steadied his nerves. There were too many things to think about, too many possible ways things could go wrong, and always the possibility that he’d freeze. That he’d prove right everyone who disapproved of what was going to happen. That when faced with the crowd even his sense that he deserved just as much respect as any of them might crack.

But Mera’s words, her comment, “Remember to breathe, you’ll be fine. You’ve come through worse before,” was reassuring. Calming. “You’ve fought before. This is no different.” And she was right. She was right… even if common sense might have dictated that she shouldn’t encourage him.

It helped, having the others there. Lori, Blubber, and Topo might not have been able to get close for long (though the opportunity would come when the ceremony was complete), but at least Kaldur, Garth, and Tula didn’t have to observe propriety by keeping at a distance. They’d been through it before, even if there hadn’t been quite the same level of hostility from some people.

“It will be fine,” Kaldur had said with a reassuring smile at one point, “When this is done, we will celebrate.”

That had been helpful in its way, but Garth’s snark at a later point put him at ease. “Welcome to the not-quite-royal club. Congratulations, you’re now a target like we are if you decide to set up attempts on our lives by implying we’re royalty.”

La’gaan scoffed and retorted, “A’lansha, were you even trying to help? Because that’s not helping. That’s the opposite of helping.”

Garth looped an arm around his shoulders, probably so he was close enough to speak without being overheard by anyone else, but also just as likely to be driven by wanting to see the restrained fuming of Ronal and those like him. “Just remember, all the people who look like their heads are going to explode when they see you? Imagine them getting selectively eaten by a shark,” Garth said with a wink. Maybe he was enjoying a little too much how some people were squirming. Leave it to Garth to give some very kisegra-like snark to help calm him in a formal situation. (La’gaan swore to himself that one of these days he was going to finally find out if Garth had any kisegra relatives or not.) “Or several!”

And later still there had been Tula, smiling and agreeing with their Queen. “You’ve got this. Like you always do.”

And when Mera told him it was time, he was ready.

He began that long trip as he had to, at the end of the ancient walkway leading up to the double thrones Queen Mera and King Orin stood in front of with the protégés placed beside and a little behind them— Garth and Kaldur to Orin’s right, Tula to Mera’s left— all of them more formally dressed than him. La’gaan could have made an attempt to be more dressed up, but his choice to go with what he almost always did was as much a statement about how he prioritized being able to fight without distraction when called for as it was about where he’d come from.

The nothing.

The orphan.

The kisegra from the outer provinces.

The one with no parents, no family, and no past before he started attending the Conservatory.

The heir to a man with a history as murky and uncertain as his own, a man who might once have been called a traitor. He was nothing, the heir of a nobody who had had the gall to abandon his past, the least deserving by propriety’s standards to gain power with the High Royal family of Atlantis— and yet here he was before them, ready to take it all on.

It defied all propriety, all logic, and all sense.

And La’gaan… La’gaan didn’t have ‘sense’. He didn’t have the sense to die on the night he watched his father die, he didn’t have the sense to not catch ekstassa, he didn’t have the sense to die in the back alley his mother abandoned him in, he didn’t have the sense to know when to leave the ‘pure’ magic-user who had taken him in, he didn’t have the sense to die in Galeo’s ‘care’, he didn’t have the sense to die while killing Galeo, he didn’t have the sense to leave the Conservatory when so many felt he had no place there, he didn’t have the sense to leave when the purists tried to drive away the kisegra, he didn’t have the sense to leave when the purists specifically targeted him— and he hadn’t even had the sense to leave after he’d been branded. La’gaan didn’t have sense, but he’d survived.

And he would keep on surviving. He would survive being the protégé of his King and Queen if he had a single damned thing to say about it, just as he had survived everything else. He was unstoppable, unbreakable, and he was going to prove— ‘nothing’ or not— that no matter what was thrown his way he would always get up again. So when it came time for him to respond to the formal offer, he didn’t hesitate. Looking first his Queen in the eye, then his King, with his head held high he spoke.

“My King, my Queen, it is the greatest honor you’ve given me. Beyond what I have ever expected. And I— La’gaan, Child of Aurelius, and now protégé to Your Royal Majesties— thank you with my deepest gratitude. And I accept.”

#La'gaan #Lagoon Boy #Young Justice #YJ #fictional racism #my fiction #long post #yes this part is almost twice as long as part 1 #no I'm not sorry