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#anything that improved safety is a massive yes from me but i have a feeling i’ve not looked enough into these new regs
sebnameyourcar · 2 years
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can someone explain to me like i’m a child all the drama with the clothes / jewellery regs
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earlgreydream · 3 years
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doubts.
| loki x reader | fluff |
anon requested. loki kinda degraded sub!reader and she scrunches up all tiny and sobs afterwards because she thought he meant what he said
cw: slightly smutty, slightly angsty
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You begged Loki to let you come, fighting against the magical restraints your dom had placed around your wrists and ankles. 
“Oh, you want to come so bad you’re crying? You desperate, pathetic whore. You’re so fucking filthy, have you no shame?” Loki sneered, the words sending arousal pooling deep in your belly, even though you fought against it. Your body jolted at the slap administered to your inner thigh, a pained cry escaping your lips. 
You’d been acting up and testing Loki’s patience, which is what earned you this punishment, your pleasure being dangled in front of you, just out of reach. You’d broken his rules, and he’d had enough of your attitude. 
“Come now before I change my mind,” Loki’s tone was dangerous, and the pressure inside of you shattered. He followed your lead, finishing inside of you before he pulled out and made the restraints vanish. 
As the pleasure wore off, his words echoing in your mind, You desperate, pathetic whore. You’re so fucking filthy, have you no shame?
Loki stood off of the bed, going to run you a hot shower. As soon as he’d stepped away, a sob tore through your chest, your shoulders heaving as you cried. You curled up in a ball, feeling small and alone on his massive bed. 
Loki heard you crying, and he felt like his heart was being ripped out of his chest. He abandoned the shower and ran to your side, kneeling down on the bed. You looked so tiny and fragile, folding in on yourself. His chest ached when he heard your soft sounds and saw the way your hands trembled as you tugged at your hair, trying to self-soothe. He reached out to pull your hands away, wanting to keep you from anxiously tearing the hair from your sensitive head.
“My darling-” his voice cracked when you jerked away from him. You hiccuped on your broken sobs as they wrecked you, emotion flooding every last thought and turning you into a mess. 
Loki’s magic sparked around you, cleaning you up and leaving you both in loose clothing. The green shimmer surrounded you, Loki’s fruitless attempt to touch you without frightening you. It was warm, and seemed to buzz with its own life, but didn’t make you feel any better. 
“My darling, have I hurt you? Tell me whatever is wrong so that I may fix it,” Loki begged, wanting nothing more than to pull you into his arms. 
“Don’t touch me, please,” you tried to catch your breath, wanting to get your keys and leave. 
He sank back, giving you space. His eyes were concerned and sad, and he fought against the urge to pierce into your mind, ripping the truth from you. The door vanished from the wall as you tried to run out, and you whipped around to face the god, who was kneeling on the bed and looking wounded. There was no exit, Loki keeping you contained to the bedroom until your devastation was resolved. 
“Y/N, I won’t let you leave when you’re so upset. You cannot drive safely. If you wish, I can take you anywhere you want to go,” Loki fretted, and though you knew he was right, you only grew more and more upset. 
“Come to me, darling,” Loki opened his arms, the authority in his voice making you comply. You knew this was a fight you couldn’t win. You’d end up in Loki’s arms confessing your pain whether by his will, or your own.
Your sobs broke his heart, and he slowly wrapped his arms around your waist, pulling you down into his lap. He held you firmly, and eventually your struggling subsided as you let yourself weep against his chest. 
“Please don’t make me pry the truth out of you,” Loki begged softly into your hair. He didn’t want to add to your pain, he only wanted to fix it. He was very aware that sifting through your mind to take your private thoughts was something that made you feel extremely violated. He wanted you to tell him on your own, but he wouldn’t let you keep such heartbreaking secrets from him. 
“Y-you... did you mean what you said about me? That I was pathetic, and d-desperate and a whore?” You sobbed out, stammering over your words.
“Oh, oh my goodness. My darling, I am so sorry. I never meant any of that. I thought you understood I just said it in the scene... please my love, I adore you more than all of the stars. Never think you are not the most perfect, beautiful, eloquent, and lovely person in my eyes. I love you, I will never say such horrible things again.” Tears flowed freely down Loki’s face. You were startled, unused to seeing raw emotion from him, especially not guilt. It hadn’t occurred to you that the words Loki had spoken were just part of the scene, part of the sex you were having. He wasn’t typically fond of degradation, but he was experimenting in the moment, never expecting it to be received as genuine. 
There was no room for doubt in his words. He meant his love then, and he would spend the rest of his life proving his love to you.
His strong arms cradled you against his body, trying to hold you together.
“I’m so sorry, so sorry,” he breathed apologies like a repetitive prayer.
You listened to his heartbeat, letting the rhythm slow your racing mind. Your sobs eventually subsided, calmed by the steady circles of his hand on your back.
“I forgive you,” your lips moved against the underside of his jaw.
“Please always stop me, tell me then, if anything at all makes you feel even the slightest bit unsafe. I never want you to feel this way again, certainly not at my fault,” Loki begged, and you nodded before burying your face back in him.
“Do you still love me?”
“I love you the most,” you promised.
Loki talked you into staying the night, doting on you to the point you were almost smothered. His magic conjured everything you wanted, even in the back of your thoughts.
“Do you want to go get some?” He asked, and you turned, tilting your head in confusion.
“To Paris. For the macarons.”
“You’re reading my thoughts,” you sighed softly, but a smile graced your expression as you kissed him.
“No, I’m sleepy. Maybe tomorrow?” You asked, and he nodded, sweeping you off your feet and carrying you back to bed.
You situated yourself in his arms, your back against his chest. His larger frame shielded you, wrapping you in safety and warmth. You slept soundly with him, the pain and uncertainty from the afternoon long gone and replaced by his love.
The smell of coffee rose you out of your sleep. Your eyes took a few moments to adjust to the soft light spilling in through the windows, and you sat up, suddenly realizing you weren’t in Loki’s bedroom at his apartment, where you’d fallen asleep.
“Loki?!” You called, and he leaned in the doorway.
“Good morning. I didn’t mean to frighten you. We took a short trip in your sleep. We’re at my Paris flat.”
You smiled, stretching your arms above your head as you yawned. Loki put a coffee in your hands, leaning down and kissing your forehead.
“If I cry will you spoil me more often?” You teased lightly, and he shot you his signature dom look of warning, making you shudder.
“It breaks my heart to see you cry, my darling,” Loki’s tone was apologetic, guilt still left over from the day before. You squeezed his arm as you sipped your coffee.
“I’m okay,” you swore, earning another kiss from your lover.
“Mm. Finish that up and we’ll go to the patisserie down the street.”
“Yes, sir.”
He smiled, happy you were cheered up and back to normal. He moved his fingers and a pretty sundress appeared hanging on the back of the washroom door for you, delicate white flats placed below.
“Dressing me up like your little doll?”
“Careful, or I will dress you, after I get that attitude in line.”
“I love the dress. And I can put it on by myself,” you apologized, pecking his lips before walking to the bathroom.
You returned in the sundress, a white beret adorning your head along with it. You relished in the bright smile Loki rewarded you with. In a shimmer of green, he was dressed in pastels that matched your own. You loved to see him in casual clothes instead of the Asgardian armor he frequently wore, and he indulged you for this small Parisian vacation. 
“You look stunning, my darling.”
Giggles erupted from your lips, making Loki’s heart soften. He dipped his head down to kiss you, making your nose scrunch up in the cutest way that he loved. His long, slender fingers folded with yours, holding your hand as the two of you made your way out of the flat and onto the bustling street. You were thankful for the sunny weather, greatly improving your mood from the rough night in New York’s rain. 
“Feeling better?”
“Much,” you nodded.
“Let’s get some crepes. Sound good?”
“Sounds perfect, Loki.”
The young god pecked your lips before pushing you inside of a patisserie. 
“Salut,” the girl working called to the two of you as the bell clinged on the door.
“Darling, what would you like? We can take some macarons to go,” Loki asked, pointing to the pastries behind the glass.
You chose a few, and Loki rattled off your order in French to the shopkeeper, taking the bag from her and moving you to sit at a table in the corner for your crepes. 
“Can we stay in Paris for a couple of days? Just us, not any of the distractions from New York,” you asked, leaning your head against his shoulder and accepting the bite he fed you. 
“Most certainly.” He kissed the sugar off of your lips before the two of you left for a park with your snacks for later. Loki held your hand as you walked along a low stone wall beside him, your eyes level with the extra height. 
“Y/N, you must know that you are so, so terribly loved.”
You turned and snaked your arms around his neck, looking deep into his crystal blue eyes.
“I do not doubt your love, Loki.”
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ketamineharry · 3 years
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Thank You For Stopping By - Ethan Payne
Requested: Yes ~ used to be in a relationship with one of the boys, you break up and reunite a few years later? feelings never really went away, every relationship since has failed, you're my one true love yada yada yada (any boy u want icon)
Authors Note: For anyone interested, this is based on a spoken word poem called When Love Arrives by Sarah Kay and Phil Kaye
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In year seven, you were adamant that you knew what love looked like. He wore a shark tooth necklace and knew how to play all of your favourite Oasis songs on the acoustic guitar. His hair swooped to the side, the envy of any boyband member. He was taller than you and always wanted to take photos for Instagram that made everyone else envious.
When love finally arrived, in the form of Ethan Payne. He was a troubled teenager, grieving the loss of his father. He was off the rails and was constantly getting himself in trouble. Dabbling in drugs, drinking his life away on the weekends and hardly ever attending the college. Nevertheless, he enticed you. He became the reason that you lied to your parents, always relying on your friend Jess to cover for you when you wanted to hang out. You couldn’t imagine what your loving, but ultimately overbearing parents would have had to say if they found out that you were meeting up with — never mind dating, someone like Ethan.
The first kiss you shared was messy, teeth getting tangled together. Still, you could feel the spark charging through your body for every second your lips connected. Hand pressed against his face while his hand was wrapped tightly around your waist, pulling you closer into him. It was safe to say that you got lost in each other.
When Ethan had finally decided to break it off with you, in what felt like some sort of amateur disappearing act. It hurt. The relationship had only lasted for a few months, but, it felt like there was a longevity to it that hadn’t been explored. The hurt that hit you, was unlike anything you had ever felt. The worst part about it was, your friends had been warning you for weeks. If you had listened to them and jumped ship before he was able to, maybe it wouldn’t have stung so badly. The reality of the situation was that you were loyal to a fault and you couldn’t have left Ethan without a valid reason.
The breakup had left you with songs that you could no longer listen to and wounds that you had no idea how to heal. You found new love, love that was willing to tell you just how beautiful you were over and over again; no matter how much you were sick of hearing it. But somehow failed to tell you when you needed to hear it most. This love baked you cookies, but would eat most of them for a midnight snack. This love wasn’t perfect, but they sealed the Ethan shaped hole that was burned into your heart when he decided to walk away. In spite of all of this though, you still longed for the excitement and adrenaline that being with Ethan provided.
-
Which is why it didn’t surprise you when after the end of your most recent relationship, when Ethan reached out to you and asked to meet up after such a long time… it felt like a weight had been lifted off of your shoulders. It didn’t take much to get you to agree, if anything the least meeting up with him would do is provide you with closure. With closure, at least then you could move on.
You were sitting outside a coffee shop, nursing a cappuccino in one hand. The other hand around your phone, scrolling aimlessly through Instagram. A tap on your shoulder knocked you out of your thoughts. Ethan. From a quick glance, he looked so much better than when you had last seen him. He had lost weight, his sense of style had improved by leaps and bounds and he wore glasses that seemed to frame his face perfectly. He was even more beautiful than you had remembered.
“Y/N!” Ethan beamed, knocking you out of your thoughts. You stood up, to greet him. As you did, he engulfed you in a hug. The smell of his cologne instantly hit you. The man that stood before you, was certainly the boy that had broken your heart many moons ago.
You both sit down, hands connected; almost as if either of you let go, you’d wake up from some sort of fever dream. A comfortable silence embraced you both for a while. Until the harsh reality hit. It had been five whole years. Five years of wondering what had gone so wrong without so much as a single hint of explanation.
“Why did you just ghost on me like that?” You asked, daring to break the safety net of the silence. Ethan recoiled, lifted his hand from yours and crossed his arms. Whatever it was, it was clear that he felt uncomfortable about it. So much so, he had to comfort himself.
“I was trying to protect you. You were so oblivious to the way that I was treating you, I relied on you to break me out of a deep sense of grief that I was experiencing. No adult should have to deal with that, never mind a fucking child.” He mumbled, voice shaking.
“I feel so bad for what I did. I know it’s no excuse for it, but I was young and naive. I loved you more than anything. You kept me grounded and actually reminded me in my darkest times that it was alright to like myself, because of how much you adored me.” He continued. A sheepish grin spreading over his face.
You didn’t really know how to comprehend what he was telling you. It was certainly a massive relief on your part that he was willing to be so open without you having to prod too much to extract the information that you needed from him.
“So why did you want to get this done now?” You inquired.
“Because it’s time for the both of us to move on… properly.” He responds, matter of factly. You tried to not let the punch that his words served you with show on your face. But, Ethan knew you better than anyone. He was definitely able to see that something was up.
“Listen Y/N… a wise person once forced me to watch their favourite spoken word poem. If I remember correctly, it goes something along the lines of, ‘love arrives exactly when love is supposed to and love leaves exactly when love must’. We’ve both been holding on to each other for so long.” He confessed.
“I remember that. I thought spoken word poetry was for geeks though.” You jested, trying your hardest to lift the mood. Ethan laughed, his belly laugh, the one you had etched into your memory from the moment you first earned one from him. It was bitter-sweet, although you loved hearing it, deep down you knew that this would be the last time you ever would.
“Yeah it is. But I suppose when you love someone you try and get into their interests, geeky warts and all.” He smiled, regaining his composure.
As the afternoon went on, you shared jokes and reminisced about your adolescence together. Five years ago, you would have never comprehended that closure could feel this good.
Soon enough, the conversation weaved its way back into a silence.
“How did the end of that poem go?” Ethan asked. The pain now evident on his face. It was hard for the both of you. You both understood just how pivotal you were to each other’s understanding of life in its purest form, from way before the adult worries of bills and jobs had made themselves apparent. Letting go of that, meant letting go of your childhood in essence.
“If love leaves, ask her to leave the door open behind her. Turn off the music and listen to the quiet.” You offered. The poem that you had enjoyed for many years now plaguing and haunting you as you sat in front of the man you had loved from the sidelines, for years.
“I just want to thank you for everything you were to me. But most importantly, thank you for stopping by.” He whispered, leaning forward to kiss you on the cheek, before scraping his chair back on the concrete.
As he walked away, you knew it was over. But you were comforted by the fact that the next time love rolled around, you would have the door wide open, freshly baked cookies on the side for them to have as a midnight snack. You would be ready.
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kumeko · 3 years
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A/N: For the @setlethzine Courage, My Love zine! I wanted to give the Seteth the rom-com he Flayn deserves.
In his many, many centuries of living, there were a few things that Seteth knew to be true: Flayn was adorable and needed to be protected, Rhea was far more secretive than she ought to be, and he definitely wasn’t developing feelings for the new teacher. Well, new might not be the right word to apply considering everything, but the point still stood. No matter how much Rhea teased and Flayn blushed, he didn’t have one of those so-called ‘crushes’.
The only reason he had even started watching her was because Rhea had been so adamantly quiet about why she was even here, and someone had to protect Rhea and Flayn. The world was dangerous. Their foes were hidden in every corner. Fortunately, his extensive research proved that Byleth wasn’t evil. Strange and mysterious, certainly, but not evil.
And if his eye was still drawn to her, it was only because he was used to watching her. His ears strained for her every word out of habit. He was so used to his role as investigator that he hadn’t adjusted to co-worker. That was all, honestly.
That was also the reason he was sitting right now in the courtyard, strumming his fingers impatiently on the metal table as he glanced around for Byleth. At this point, she was five minutes late for their meeting. Tardiness was a terrible attribute for a professor. Seteth brushed a finger against the teapot; the ceramic still felt warm. That was a relief. After acquiring one of Manuela’s finer teas and a spread of snacks from the kitchen, he would be rather put out if Byleth didn’t get to enjoy them. It took a lot of effort to ensure the meal complimented the tea.
A shadow fell on him and Seteth looked up as Byleth slid into her seat. Frowning, he crossed his arms. “You are late.”
“My students had questions,” Byleth explained simply, straight to the fact. It was one of the few traits he admired her for. When one worked with the long-winded Hanneman, the boisterous Alois, and the dramatic Manuela, he was grateful that Byleth was the exact opposite of that. Very few words escaped her mouth, each one carefully picked, and Seteth only hoped that she would be a good influence on the others.
“That is the mark of a good teacher. It is your duty to ensure your students get the best help possible. Do not apologize for it,” Seteth praised, giving her an appreciative smile. This was definitely better than certain teachers’ propensity to arrive late due to alcohol or obsessive experimenting. “Would you like some tea?”
Byleth shook her head. “I’m fine.”
“Are you sure?” She shook her head once more and he felt a little disappointed at that, but it couldn’t be helped if she wasn’t interested. Still, tea wasn’t the only item he’d prepared. “Perhaps a biscuit or a cookie?”
Once more, Byleth shook her head. “What did you call me here for?”
“Well, that is…” Seteth trailed off. There wasn’t really any particular reason he called her here, he just wanted to get to know her better. He smiled reassuringly. “I was hoping to spend time with you.”
Somehow, she didn’t look the least bit reassured. If anything, her back straightened slightly and she was as tense as she was on the battlefield. Perched on the edge of her seat, she wore a determined expression and asked, “Have I done something wrong?”
“What?” Well, now he knew what her enemies must have seen before she defeated them. Perhaps he had said something erroneous. Clearing his throat, he clarified, “No, nothing of the sort. As I previously stated, I merely desire to spend time with you. You have had tea parties with the students; think of this as one of those.”
Byleth nodded slowly. She clasped her hands on her lap, looking at him expectantly. “Then I made a mistake with the tea party.”
“No, that is not what I intended…” Seteth trailed off, recalling the few times he had spotted (not spied) Byleth in the courtyard. Actually, now that he considered it, there had been a few things that had bothered him. This might be the chance to rectify all that. “Very well then, since you have mentioned it, your hosting etiquette does have a few flaws. We will go over the appropriate manners expected of a professor of your status.”
-x-
Seteth rubbed his brow as he climbed the stairs to Rhea’s chambers. How did everything he did turn into a lecture? That was supposed to be a casual, cheerful meeting. Instead, it had become a two-hour lesson on the art of tea parties. No wonder Manuela tensed up whenever he passed her. If anything, it was a miracle that he was even able to have normal conversations.
He would have to repent and correct his ways. Later, though, for now he stood in front of Rhea’s doors. Rapping firmly, he waited for Rhea to call him in before entering the massive chamber. The afternoon sunlight flooded through her ceiling to floor windows, casting a warm glow in the room. As expected, the archbishop was out on the terrace. She liked to tend to her flowers at this time, claiming it was a form of meditation.
“Seteth.” Crouched next to a flower, she gently lifted its bloom and admired it as she greeted him. “As punctual as ever. I do not know what I would do without you.”
“Many things, I imagine,” Seteth responded succinctly, coming to a stop next to her.
Without her headpiece on, she looked younger. It was only when they were alone, away from prying eyes, that he could see the woman he had met all those centuries ago and not the archbishop she’d become. Her eyes crinkled as she stood up and she laughed. “Seteth, are you still sore over Byleth?”
“There is nothing to be sore about.” He crossed his arms, trying to keep the irritation out of his voice. “While I still think you should have at least informed me first, if not consulted, I do not mind that anymore.”
“You do not mind?” Rhea’s lips quirked as she studied him. He wasn’t sure what she was looking for, only she had found it when she smiled teasingly, “I thought I noticed a change in your demeanor.”
He stopped cold at that. Giving her a bemused look, he asked, “What do you mean?”
“I heard about your date with the professor,” she replied easily, mirth colouring her tone. “You are moving faster than I expected.”
“A d-date?” Seteth sputtered, his neck burning at the very suggestion. “Preposterous! Of all the things to suggest—we were not on a date or anything of the sort.”
“Really?” A finely shaped brow rose and she pressed, “Even though you had tea together in the garden?”
“That was merely a formality to know her better!” Seteth tried to keep his cool and not hiss. This was clearly a mistake. After all, Rhea had lived a long time and most of it alone. Perhaps she had forgotten about courtship entirely. “After all this time spent distrusting her, I wanted to improve our relationship.”
“Is that so?” Rhea answered, in a tone that suggested she did not believe a word of it.
“It is,” he replied firmly.
Rhea squeezed his shoulder before heading back to her bedroom. “It is cute to see you smitten so. Now come, we have to get through those reports.”
It was childish to continue the argument. It was childish and that was the only reason he wasn’t retorting as he followed her in.
-x-
“That is a date!”
Of all the responses he expected his daughter to utter, those hadn’t been on the list. Seteth stared at Flayn, jaw slightly open as he struggled to understand just what was happening. How did both Rhea and Flayn get such a simple thing wrong? “It is not.”
Flayn wasn’t listening to him. Hands clasped, a faraway look in her eyes, and a dreamy tone in her voice, she continued to ramble as though he hadn’t spoken. “Oh, this is the most delightful of news! I did not think the professor had caught your eye.”
Well, he couldn’t entirely argue that. “That was only to ensure your safety.”
“Love blooming from adversity—it is like one of my favourite books.” Flayn turned to him, a gentle smile on her face. “If you are concerned about Mother, do not fret. I am sure she would approve of this too.”
“That wasn’t—I wasn’t…” Seteth trailed off, not sure how he had ended up in this mess. Flayn must have been reading too many romance books recently; it was eating away at her brain and casting everything in a similar light. “While that is reassuring, that is simply not the case here. I was only trying to create a sense of camaraderie between Byleth and myself.”
“The best romances are a slow burn.” Flayn nodded her agreement. He had a feeling she hadn’t heard a word he said. “For your next step, might I suggest a gift? It is always heartwarming to receive one.”
“Why would I—” Seteth paused. Actually, now that he thought about it, a gift was a great suggestion. A well-picked one could deepen their bond and show Byleth how he intended to change their relationship. It could even serve as an apology for all the mistrust he had shown her. “A gift is perfect. Thank you, Flayn.”
“No problem.” She smiled brightly at him. “I will root for you!”
It would be a headache to correct her, so he didn’t bother.
-x-
“A gift?” Standing near the docks, Byleth looked at the long, thin package in Seteth’s hands and then back at him. Her brow furrowed as she tried to understand. “For me?”
“Yes.” Seteth held the package uncertainly. It had been hard to pick something for Byleth. The more he had thought about it, the more he had realized that he knew very little about her despite his watchful gaze. Certainly, he knew her habits in the school—how hard she worked to teach her students, the skill she showed with a weapon, the soft way she would look at the students sometimes. Yet those were habits, nothing more, and one couldn’t buy a gift based on that. While he had finally figured out what to do, it was still mostly guesswork. He hated this level of ambiguity.
“What is it for?” She still didn’t take the gift. Instead, her frown deepened.
This really wasn’t going how he had planned. Seteth held out the package insistently. “There is no particular reason. I merely thought it would suit you. Now please, accept it.”
Byleth quietly studied his face for a long moment before nodding and taking it. “Thank you.” Without another word, she tore through his meticulously folded wrapping paper.
“You could unwrap it late—” Seteth sighed, giving up when she showed no signs of stopping. Well, this was embarrassing. His cheeks warmed and he clasped his hands behind his back.
It took her a total of two minutes to remove the wrapping paper. He hoped that eagerness meant she was warming up to him. Now holding a fishing rod in her hands, Byleth gave him a puzzled look. “A fishing rod?”
The very situation he had been dreading: explaining himself. Clearing his throat, he resisted the urge to mutter. “You won the fishing tournament, a feat of skill that indicated you spend a lot of time fishing. I had inspected your rod earlier and noticed it was a little worn. It would be terrible if a fish escaped due to your gear breaking at the wrong time.” He tried to smile again. “I thought you could use this. It is a good model. I have used its like before.”
Still looking bemused, she nodded. “Thank you.”
Well, it wasn’t the joyous response he had hoped for, but it wasn’t the scared reaction she had given at the tea party either. A step forward, at least. “If you need any help with it, just ask.”
She didn’t reply, her focus already on the rod. Byleth wasn’t quite smiling, but her lips turned up as she examined the hook keeper. That was a good sign, right? That had to mean she was pleased.
Maybe.
Hopefully she wasn’t laughing at him.
-x-
“A fishing rod?” Flayn glared at him, her hands balling into fists as she paced in his bedroom. “Fa—Brother, that is not a romantic gift at all! It does not tell your loved one that you are thinking of them!”
Seteth crossed his arms defensively. “We have gone through this already, Flayn. There is nothing between the professor and I.”
“A fishing rod is too practical for a courtship gift!” Once again, she wasn’t listening to him. Maybe he should block her access to the library for a while, or sneak in some proper books into her reading. At this rate, she was going to think his every interaction with another was a sign of love. “No wonder she looked confused!”
Byleth hadn’t only looked confused. He was certain he hadn’t imagined it, the curve of her lips, the amused look on her face. It was an expression entirely unlike her usual ones, and he would know, having watched her as he had. Even her students hadn’t provoked such a reaction. The thought sent a rush through him. Perhaps he was the only one so far who had seen it.
“There is only one way to correct this mistake.” Flayn was in his face now, an earnest expression in her face as she grabbed his hands. “You must give her an even bigger gift. I have heard that serenading a lover at dawn is the purest form of love.”
“Serenading?” It was an idea he ought to reject immediately and in its entirety. Yet Flayn’s last suggestion had given him the gift of Byleth’s almost-smile. Perhaps this one could generate another smile. What would she look like, radiant and glowing, unable to hide her happiness?
He didn’t hesitate before nodding.
-x-
Standing in front of Byleth’s door, a lute in hand, Seteth silently cursed himself. This was a terrible idea. An utterly terrible idea. Not only was a serenade a romantic thing, he was also disturbing someone in the middle of the night. Just because he often rose at dawn to attend to his duties didn’t that mean Byleth did.
What had he been thinking, agreeing to this? Seteth knew the answer to that. He hadn’t been thinking at all, distracted as he had been by Byleth’s expression. Instead of smiling now, the moment she laid eyes on him, she would glare. Their relationship would go back to what it had been. This was a mistake. The only good thing was that he had come to his senses before he started playing. There was still time to turn around and leave.
There was still time—the door in front of him slowly opened and Seteth froze.
A very drunk Manuela stepped out, her hair disheveled, her dress crumpled. She stared at him for a long minute, then at the lute in his hands. “My, I must be drunker than I thought,” she mumbled, shaking her head and stumbling back into her room. “That’s it, I am not drinking for a week.”
Not only had this been a mistake, but he had gotten the wrong room. Seteth walked (not ran; he was definitely not running) away in an undignified manner.
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snarktheater · 3 years
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Ready Player Two — Opening Cutscene & Chapter 0
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Hello again.
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It’s been a while. I haven’t been active on this blog since, fittingly enough, Ready Player One. I was going to do this sooner���even had an alarm set up and everything—but then, it turns out, I’m feeling so much negativity about the world in general that a book just pales in comparison.
Seriously, I had to scrap this post’s entire intro because it’s not even 2020 anymore as I write this. And you know, maybe that’s for the best. I’m not really in the mood for doom and gloom and bitching anymore. I uninstalled Twitter from my phone a while back, I’ve been doing good at my daily writing sprints, my biggest fanfic project concluded on a positive note from people I didn’t even realize had been following it for years.
So I don’t know what this is going to be like. My commentary, I mean; I’ve heard echoes of what the book is like, so I’m not expecting a surprise there.
The book opens right after the end of Ready Player One, in a “Cutscene” where Wade recounts to us what happened after he won Halliday’s contest. It also assumes you remember exactly who the main characters of the book are, which is a bold move for a sequel that came out almost a decade after the original.
Technically, I could just look up the details I’m fuzzy about. But also, I think it’s more authentic if I don’t. I trust my memory enough that if I’m wrong, it’ll be in subtle enough ways that it’ll almost be a private jokes between all of us. An “if you know, you know” sort of error system. And I don’t think there’s anything more true to the spirit of this book than that.
Shoto had flown back home to Japan to take over operations at GSS’s Hokkaido division.
So Wade starts his tenure with nepotism. Wasn’t Shoto really young? Why is he qualified to run anything?
Aech was enjoying an extended vacation in Senegal, a country she’d dreamed of visiting her whole life, because her ancestors had come from there.
You know what, I’m not touching “send the token black character back to Africa.” This isn’t my lane.
And Samantha had flown back to Vancouver to pack up her belongings and say goodbye to her grandmother, Evelyn.
Why is she saying goodbye? Why, she’s moving to Columbus to be with Wade, of course! It’s not like there was anything else in her life. Was there? And why isn’t she referred to as Art3mis? I’m pretty sure Wade found out all of their offline names in the last book, and the inconsistency mildly bothers me.
These three sentences are back to back, by the way. Someone—I forget who—once described Ready Player One as a book that’s fun to write a wiki about, because it’s got fun concepts to summarize about until you realize that all the emotional connective tissue you need to turn a list of things into a story is missing, and that’s roughly how this first page feels.
Hell, the first line of the book is Wade telling us he remained offline for nine whole days after winning the contest, but by the end of the second paragraph we’re already to him logging back into the OASIS to "distract himself from [his and Samantha’s] reunion.
I’ll give Ernest Cline one thing: it feels like he wrote this opening nine days after the first book and did about as much maturing as a teenage boy would do between the two books.
Way more time is spent describing Wade’s OASIS rig, or the in-game planet where the climax of the last book happened, than anything else in this introduction. He is immediately greeted by a crowd of adoring fans who have been waiting over a week for him to come back in the game, because they’re all grateful that our protagonist and his friends restored their avatars after they were annihilated by the Sixers.
You’d think the adoring fans would serve some kind of purpose, or that something would happen, but no. Wade immediately goes “ew, people” and teleports away, since he essentially has ultimate powers within the game. With a caveat: the powers are actually coming from the Robes of Anorak he’s wearing, and I’m mentioning that in the hopes that it will pay off sometime in the book’s future, assuming Cline at least learned to do that. But still, let’s not skip too fast the fact that we introduced that crowd of adoring fans for no other purpose than to tell us they’re out there, because it fits right in with the last book’s attempts at saying as little as humanly possible in as many words as possible.
Anyway, Wade went back into Anorak’s study, where he arbitrarily checks out the Easter Egg he got at the end of the last book, and finds an inscription on it. I was dreading another riddle, but no, it’s just straight-up instructions to a vault in the GSS archives, so Wade logs off and goes to check it out.
Of course Halliday had put [the archives] [on the 13th floor]. In one of his favorite TV shows, Max Headroom, Network 23’s hidden research-and-development lab was located on the thirteenth floor. And The Thirteenth Floor was also the title of an old sci-fi film about virtual reality, released in 1999, right on the heels of both The Matrix and eXistenZ.
I’m equally shocked that it took two whole pages (on my ereader) to get to the first slew of references, and that one of these references is from 1999. I didn’t know we were allowed to think of anything that isn’t the 80s. Speaking of which, I’ll spare you the whole paragraph, but the book does feel the need to explain why it’s vault 42.
Inside the vault, there’s another egg containing a super-fancy and advanced OASIS headset. The egg also has a video monitor that plays a video message from James Halliday shortly before his death.
But despite his condition, he hadn’t used his OASIS avatar to record this message like he had with Anorak’s Invitation. For some reason, he’d chosen to appear in the flesh this time, under the brutal, unforgiving light of reality.
That oh-so-important message? An infodump about the headset’s working. He called it an OASIS Neural Interface, ONI for short. It basically lets you experience the OASIS through all your senses with sensory input just like the real thing, you know, that thing Wade had to get a fancy suit and massive rig to do in the first book. And yes, Wade does spend a paragraph or two comparing it to other works of science fiction. Of course he does.
More importantly, it also records all the sensory input into a separate file, which can then be replayed over to re-experience said sensations, or live someone else’s experiences. Halliday tries to frame it as a tool to generate communication and empathy, seemingly all without acknowledging the potential creepiness of that. But hey. Who knows. Maybe that’s because this is the setup stage, and it’ll pay off eventually.
I also wondered about the name Halliday had chosen for his invention. I’d seen enough anime to know that oni was also a Japanese word for a giant horned demon from the pits of hell.
Add “reducing Japan to anime” to the list of things the book has failed to improve upon. By the way, the narration insisted on spelling out ONI letter by letter earlier, so it’s weird to make that link now. It’s also just kind of inelegant to just tell us “this is the symbolism behind the name”, but that’s just the sort of thing I’ve come to expect from this book.
Anyway, the reason Halliday kept this for his successor to find is he wants Wade to test out the technology and decide if humanity is ready for it. Why Halliday thinks the most glorified pop culture trivia / video game competition qualifies you for such a decision should be a problem, but sadly, a lot of billionaires have said and done a lot of dumb and eerily similar things in the past few years since I read Ready Player One, so actually, I can’t fault the book for that one. Tragically, our fates really are in the hands of people who should rightfully be cartoon villains.
To his credit, Wade does question Halliday’s motives in keeping this under wraps at all rather than releasing it himself. So hey, maybe it really is setting something up.
Wade goes back to his office with the ONI, and we’re treated with this lovely piece of narration:
I was grateful that Samantha wasn’t there. I didn’t want to give her the opportunity to talk me out of testing the ONI. Because I was worried she might try to, and if she did, she would’ve succeeded. (I’d recently discovered that when you’re madly in love with someone they can persuade you to do pretty much anything.)
There’s a lot to unpack about the implications this has for their relationship, but it’s way too early in the book for me to editorialize when one character hasn’t even been on the page yet. So I’ll just leave it here for the record. Hopefully you see the problem without me needing to point it out anyway. If not, feel free to hit my inbox.
So Wade, confident in the fact that Halliday would have warned him if there were any risks to using the ONI, decides to try it out. Even though he immediately follows up that statement with this:
According to the ONI documentation, forcibly removing the headset while it was in operation could severely damage the wearer’s brain and/or leave them in a permanent coma. So the titanium-reinforced safety bands made certain this couldn’t happen. I found this little detail comforting instead of unsettling. Riding in an automobile was risky, too, if you didn’t wear your seatbelt…
Wade. My dude. What the fuck is this simile. And why don’t you see that maybe a machine where you’re forcibly trapping yourself inside a virtual reality might be dangerous? Hell, when I said this was setting something up, I was expecting something vaguely interesting about the potential breach of privacy, or how you don’t need to literally walk in someone’s shoes to feel empathy for them, or anything substantial, but now I’m worried it’ll just end up as “man, sometimes science fiction machines will scramble your brain, isn’t that weird”?
Like, I don’t know, to me “it will put you in a coma” sounds like a good reason for Halliday not to release the ONI. Maybe we can still make it into a commentary on how corporations will sell stuff they know is directly harmful if it can make them a profit. Who knows.
The book waffles on about more risks, and the mechanics of how the ONI activates, and the warning disclaimer when it does turn on. Specifically, there’s a time limit of twelve consecutive hours, after which you’ll be automatically logged out, because yes, using the thing for too long can also cause brain damage.
Gregarious Simulation Systems will not be held responsible for any injuries caused by improper use of the OASIS Neural Interface.
See, now there’s the sort of thing that could be a source for commentary, but no, instead it’s thrown in there like it’s nothing and Wade glosses over the entire warning, and instead keep wondering why Halliday didn’t just release the ONI if even the safety disclaimers were in place.
By the way: this whole system has apparently gone through several independent human trials already, so I’m finding it hard to imagine that it’s actually a secret Halliday took to the grave as Wade says. Unless he also had everyone involved in those trials killed afterwards. Or maybe they all ended up with brain damage which rendered them incapable of talking about it.
And before you think I’m being unfair and maybe we’re supposed to understand that ourselves even if the protagonist doesn’t, I’ll remind you that the book didn’t trust its reader to know what the number 42 is a reference to, or what an oni is, even though I don’t think anyone in the target audience wouldn’t know about these two things.
There’s also the fact that, since this book came out, a video game did release with a scene intentionally designed to cause seizures, and it had countless fans flocking to defend it over that fact. So you’ll have to excuse me if I’m not assuming this book’s stance on whether your video game console causes brain damage and possibly coma is actually a bad thing, or just an acceptable risk.
Wade certainly seems to think so, since he agrees to the terms of service.
As the timestamp faded away, it was replaced by a short message, just three words long—the last thing I would see before I left the real world and entered the virtual one. But they weren’t the three words I was used to seeing. I—like every other ONI user to come—was greeted by a new message Halliday had created, to welcome those visitors who had adopted his new technology: READY PLAYER TWO
Well now that’s just silly.
And that’s our opening cutscene. And while this post is already long enough, I feel like I have to go on to chapter 0, because it feels like barely anything has happened so far. We didn’t even introduce any new character motivation or conflict, or a mystery to set the plot into motion, unless I’m supposed to think “why didn’t Halliday release this?” counts.
So Wade is back into the OASIS, and tells us about how much more real it all feels thanks to the ONI. I especially have to question how he can smell or taste anything—both of which he tells us he can. Like, who coded that? Did Halliday implement every single smell and taste himself, without anyone noticing? I hope you don’t need me to tell you that’s not typically how features are added to a large-scale video game.
If it feels like I’m nitpicking at the logic of the book, even though I always say I’m not very interested in that and would rather talk themes, it’s because I am, because there isn’t much else to discuss so far. Wade is happy about tasting virtual fruit. That’s the scene.
He tests out if he can feel pain, but no, the ONI reduces pain (a gunshot is translated as “a hard pinch”). On one hand, good, it would be a nightmare otherwise. On the other hand, I sort of hope there’s a setting for that in there, because otherwise, you just lost an entire clientele of kinksters.
This was it—the final, inevitable step in the evolution of videogames and virtual reality. The simulation had now become indistinguishable from real life.
Ah, now we have some juicy themes. Because if you think this is the inevitable final step in the evolution of video games, I invite you to look at literally any other art form, and what happened to them once hyperrealism became easy. Hint: they didn’t stop evolving, because it turns out realism isn’t the only goal one can achieve with art.
The realism discussion is not a new one in video games, mind you. In case you’re out of the loop: most of the big-budget blockbuster games (“AAA” as they’re known) are aiming for hyperrealism nowadays, and it results in development teams being forced to work in horrible conditions (known with the equally horrible euphemism of “crunch”). And, because it turns out that 1) humans working themselves to the bones isn’t healthy and 2) racing for realism with little to no vision besides it makes for poor creativity, a lot of these games come out as disappointments. Oh, there are hordes of Gamers™ who will defend them to the bitter end, but inevitably, in the months following release, the defense cools off while the criticism keeps on going, because the defense was a knee-jerk reaction born of a mix of people hyping themselves up for a game they hadn’t seen that much of yet, then attaching a part of their identity to liking that thing.
Anyway, what I’m trying to say is that this throwaway line feels like it comes from someone who is so out of touch as to accidentally support a world view that has in fact resulted in the biggest part of the industry stagnating artistically while growing more toxic for the people working in it. All the while, more and more independent games come out every year, proving that that realism is nowhere near the most important thing to making a game good, and that you can achieve much better results with a small team.
What I’m trying to say is: watch Jim Sterling’s channel, they’ve been bleeding out subscribers since they came out as nonbinary and make much better commentary on this topic than I could, and play Hades.
Back to the book, which sadly hasn’t become any more interesting since I decided to go on a tangent. Wade tests the ONI functions some more, all the while musing on how he knows Samantha would disapprove but that he doesn’t care, because what loving relationship doesn’t consist of that?
Among the functions, he tries the ONI files, the aforementioned recordings of someone else’s experiences. Specifically, a woman, which Wade tells us by telling us he suddenly has breasts, I suppose because Ernest Cline saw that subreddit about men writing women and went “I want a piece of that”. Oh, and also, those sample files were recorded from real people, in the real world. And yes, this goes exactly where you think it does.
SEX-M-F.oni, SEX-F-F.oni, and SEX-Nonbinary.oni
Look, I actually started writing a complaint about the boobs thing, and I deleted it, but now Cline is doing it on purpose. So, here goes: I saw a quote from this book on Twitter that looked like Cline attempting to make up for Wade’s casual transphobia in the first book. It wasn’t good, but it at least sounded like he was trying. So to immediately get this is…a lot? Let’s go for a lot.
I can almost excuse the use of “M” and “F”. You gotta name your files and you could excuse a non-exhaustive list. But…nonbinary? On one hand, I want to know what Cline means. On the other hand, I don’t think he can come up with an answer I’ll find satisfactory.
We are thankfully spared from finding out because Wade has just lost his virginity to Samantha a few days ago and he’s 1) not ready for this and 2) pretty sure this counts as cheating. You could make a case that this is more like porn, but I can see that this is more of a personal distinction anyway, and I can respect that one. Plus, you know. I don’t want to find out.
Wade logs off, and he can’t tell the difference between the OASIS with the ONI, and decides this will change the world. And then it’s back to the “how did he do it and keep it a secret”, even though Wade now finds out in the documentation that this had been in development for twenty-five years, basically since the OASIS launched. So it’s not really that it’s a secret, so much as there are a lot of people under very strict NDAs out there. Or, again, they’re all dead and/or otherwise incapacitated.
The ONI is the product of the Accessibility Research Lab, and Wade tells us about other stuff that the lab has produced using similar technology, mostly for medical purposes.
GSS patented each of the Accessibility Research Lab’s inventions, but Halliday never made any effort to profit from them. Instead, he set up a program to give these neuroprosthetic implants away, to any OASIS users who could benefit from them. GSS even subsidized the cost of their implant surgery.
Look, it’s nice that you want Halliday to be the good guy through and through, but it’s kind of hard to take any social commentary seriously when you think this is how a billionaire is made. Hell, even when he shut down the lab and fired its entire staff, he gave them a big enough severance package to set them for life. You know. Capitalism!
Hey, remember when Samantha said she was going to end world hunger if she won the contest, a thing billionaires right now could be doing, but aren’t, and she is now the co-owner of GSS? Yeah, I kind of hope the book remembers that too.
Speaking of the co-owners, the book just completely skips over the debate that our four main characters have over whether or not to release the ONI to the world. All we know is that they voted, and the vote goes in favor of releasing it. I mean, why have characters who could have opinions and feelings that could create a discussion? That might make us care about them! And who wants to care about characters in a story?
We put them on sale at the lowest possible price, to make sure as many people as possible could experience the OASIS Neural Interface for themselves.
What exactly is “the lowest possible price” here? Your company literally owns money. Like, OASIS money is real money. There is literally nothing stopping you from giving them away, especially because what you’re giving away is access to the platform you’re already running for a profit.
It’s almost like, even trying to make “good billionaires” out of its protagonists, the book can’t stop and actually make them significantly good.
Oh, I should mention. If you thought my Ready Player One review was angry at capitalism, wait until you see what the past couple years have done to me.
Anyway, once they his 7,777,777 simultaneous ONI users, a new riddle shows up on Halliday’s website. Because yep: our plot is apparently not about the implications of releasing the ONI, or any of the potential ideological discussions associated with that, it’s another riddle. Oh boy, do I wish I’d known that.
Seek the Seven Shards of the Siren’s Soul On the seven worlds where the Siren once played a role For each fragment my heir must pay a toll To once again make the Siren whole
I cannot wait to have the book give me just not enough information to solve the riddle until it’s solved by the book itself. That was so much fun the other…what was it, five times? Six times? Something like that. Wade already tells us the Siren might be Kira Morrow, because her alias was named after one of the sirens of Greek myth, so I can’t wait for that plot point to stick around. It was so fun to hear all about this man pining for another man’s wife the first time!
So this is the “Shard Riddle”. People are apparently convinced it was made by Wade and his crew as a publicity stunt, but of course, they know that that isn’t the case, and they also don’t know what that riddle is supposed to lead to. So, that’s great. We have a puzzle, and we also don’t know what the stakes are. All we know is that Wade wants to solve the puzzle essentially because it’s a challenge.
We skip over a year, and Wade tells us about how IOI collapses and gets absorbed by GSS because of the ONI’s launch. Remember IOI? They were the bad guys, so I guess we have to cheer?
GSS absorbed IOI and all of its assets, transforming us into an unstoppable megacorporation with a global monopoly on the world’s most popular entertainment, education, and communications platform.To celebrate, we released all of IOI’s indentured servants and forgave their outstanding debts.
On one hand: good for the slave. On the other hand: not gonna cheer for a monopoly, you guys.
Another year’s skip, and now 99% of the OASIS users are using the ONI, and yes, that includes trading their experiences with one another too. And I guess we’re still hand-waving any possible problems associated with that technology, because the technology is made so that all recordings must be shared and played through the OASIS.
This allowed us to weed out unsavory or illegal recordings before they could be shared with other users.
How? Do you know any of the problems associated with content moderations on the current platforms? I don’t know if I want to point to Youtube’s extremely faulty algorithm, Twitter’s complete apathy towards its Nazis, or Facebook doing moderation by making underpaid staff watch all potentially problematic content, which resulted in serious psychological damage to said staff.
You can’t just say that as if it solved everything. The chapter later says this is handled by an AI called “CenSoft”, and as an AI engineer myself, let me tell you: this is not going to work. Again: Youtube is the way it is for a reason.
It also let us maintain our monopoly on what was rapidly becoming the most popular form of entertainment in the history of the world.
And again, monopolies are totally a good thing as long as it’s in the right hands!
When I’m implying that the book does not care for any of these potential problems, I mean it. These enormous ethical issues are sidestepped in cold narratin, and we just keep going on introducing new slang that I hate, but have to quote so help you keep up.
“Sims” were recordings made inside the OASIS, and “Recs” were ONI recordings made in reality. Except that most kids no longer referred to it as “reality.” They called it “the Earl.” (A term derived from the initialism IRL.) And “Ito” was slang for “in the OASIS.” So Recs were recorded in the Earl, and Sims were created Ito.
There. You have been infodumped.
In the midst of all this (still extremely dry) exposition about how this changed media, we also get this tidbit:
You could take any drug, eat any kind of food, and have any kind of sex, without worrying about addiction, calories, or consequences.
Now, I was going to rant about this, but then, a page later, this happens and spares me the trouble:
I’d struggled with OASIS addiction before the ONI was released. Now logging on to the simulation was like mainlining some sort of chemically engineered superheroin.
So, you are aware that addiction isn’t just possible, but extremely facilitated by this. But sure, no worries! It’s perfectly safe! Because our protagonists are good.
Also, remember how the last book ended on a weak attempt at having a moral that maybe the real world is good, actually? Yeah, Wade tells us the ONI helps poor people live enjoyable lives in the OASIS. So. Fuck that message, I guess. It only applies if you’re the literal wealthiest man on Earth.
And me? All my dreams had come true. I’d gotten stupidly rich and absurdly famous. I’d fallen in love with my dream girl and she had fallen in love with me. Surely I was happy, right? Not so much, as this account will show.
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Aside from the aforementioned returning OASIS affiction, there’s the Shard riddle that Wade is now obsessed with, to the point of offering a billion-dollar reward to anyone with information about the riddle’s answer.
I announced this reward with a stylized short film that I modeled after Anorak’s Invitation. I hoped it would seem like a lighthearted play on Halliday’s contest instead of a desperate cry for help. It seemed to work.
On one hand: good, Wade finally has a character flaw that the book actually acknowledges as a character flaw. I can work with that. On the other hand: this is all told to me in such a dispassionate that I am dreading how the book will handle this character flaw. Which is to say, I’m not expecting it to be very good.
(For a brief time, some of the younger, more idealistic shard hunters referred to themselves as “shunters” to differentiate themselves from their elder counterparts. But when everyone began to call them “sharters” instead, they changed their minds and started to call themselves gunters too. The moniker still fit. The Seven Shards were Easter eggs hidden by Halliday, and we were all hunting for them.)
Especially when this is something the narration feels is more important to tell me about.
Anyway, skip another year, and a gunter finally leads Wade to the First Shard. Solved that riddle, I guess. And wait, wasn’t part of why IOI was ~evil~ in the first book that they were paying people to find the Easter Egg for them? How is this any different, Wade?
And when I picked it up, I set in motion a series of events that would drastically alter the fate of the human race. As one of the only eyewitnesses to these historic events, I feel obligated to give my own written account of what occurred. So that future generations—if there are any—will have all the facts at their disposal when they decide how to judge my actions.
And that is the end of our chapter 0. And can I just say: what a mess already. I don’t think my snark can properly convey how utterly devoid of emotion this book’s writing is, and that alone is honestly more of a turn-off than anything else in the book so far. Even, knowing that I railed about it in the first book, I still feel newly unprepared for it. And it’s not like this double-prologue is making me hopeful that the book will show an ounce more critical thinking—or decent fucking humanity towards marginalized groups—as its predecessor.
So, that’s a lot to look forward to! For the sake of my sanity and schedule, don’t expect me to do such big posts every time. I’ll probably do one chapter a week from now on, if that. We’re in for a long ride, but I hope it’s worth it, at least.
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sylvain-writes · 3 years
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Guarded Hearts and Safe Houses (Leonardo x Reader) Chapter 7/9
Rated: T
Gender Neutral Reader, canon typical violence/injury, light angst, strangers to lovers, supportive family.
for @melodiousmelodrama 
The blood drains from your face. You feel light-headed and unsteady on your feet. “Are my… are my…”
Donnie’s eyes lock on yours. “Raph’s there with Mikey. Everyone’s OK,” he says, but it brings little relief. “Your parents were at a charity function for the hospital.”
“And Gram?” Your throat’s gone so dry, you can barely get the question out.
“At the neighbors’.”
A shaky breath passes through your lips as you wrap your arms around yourself.
Leo stalks the mat as he thinks aloud. “This was a targeted attack. Their numbers might not be what we projected. But they didn’t get what they came for - hostages or us. They’ll be back. We have to get the humans to a secure location.”
Your thoughts extend beyond the safety of your family. “You have to protect the apartment building.”
“Yes.” Leo gives a sharp nod. “We have to defend the city. They’ll strike the building again. We can set up a base of operations somewhere close. Keep a lookout.” He whips out his phone and calls his brothers. “Mikey, sweep the area for somewhere to set up a base. Prepare for another attack.”
Mikey’s voice carries over the speaker. “You got it, bro.”
“Donnie,” Leo commands, “get us ready to move out. Whatever we need. Devices to track their signature, that new bo you’ve been working on. Anything else you got that might help against these guys. We’ve never been up against something like this before. We’re gonna need every advantage we can get.”
“The new weapons? But I thought you said...” Donatello rises to his full height at his brother’s nod of approval. “Of course, Leo. It’d be my honor to supply the team with new hardware. To be used in tandem with our traditional weapons, of course.”
Leo urges him, “Go!” and Donnie heads out at a sprint.
When Leo turns to you, you’re having trouble catching your breath. Tears cloud your vision and the lump in your throat makes it hard to speak.
“This is my fault,” Leo says by way of apology. “I shouldn’t have let my feelings distract me. Your family should have never been in danger.”
You understand now. How being a distraction to him is dangerous. The world depends on him. Tending to you, indulging you, led to this.
You believed his fears and insecurity about being vulnerable, showing weakness, were baseless. But leaving the city open to attack, leaving your family at risk… it isn’t worth whatever feelings stir in your chest when you think of him.
You’d rather have him and everyone else safe, than to be selfish. This isn’t him choosing to ignore you, this is him choosing to save the world.
When you return to your family home, Leo kneels before your parents and Gram. “I have dishonored you, failed you. I know my words are not enough, but I hope you will allow me to defend you and your home. I will not fail you again. On my honor. On my life.”
Your father, filled with fear, sputters before leaving the room. You know him, he doesn’t put the blame on the turtles, not really. But he doesn’t have anywhere else to direct his feelings of anger, fear, and confusion. Not yet.
Leo appeals to the women as they remain. “I allowed my mind to be clouded by distraction. It will not happen again. I devote my life to ninja and to your protection.”
His apologies hurt more than you thought they would, know you’re the distraction of which he speaks. Though you came to that same conclusion less than an hour ago, hearing it from his lips ties your stomach in knots.
“It’s time for you to go,” you find yourself saying. “You being here puts a bigger target on us, doesn’t it?”
Leo nods and stands.
“Then, go save the city, Leo. We won’t stand in your way as distractions anymore.”
Leo’s face twists in pain before his emotions slip behind the wall he builds so well. He heads for the window and you close it behind him with more force than necessary.
Once he’s gone, you try not to think of him. Your family needs you. They’re shaken and confused. And you don’t have all of the answers, but you have faith in the brothers. You have to believe they can fight this threat to the city. You have to believe they can win.
The Krang don’t attack again that day. Or that week. And a lookout returns to the roof. But it’s Leo and you won’t go up there. You don’t want to talk to him and it’s clear he doesn’t want you around.
But being in the apartment, unable to spend time on your rooftop escape, is making you stir crazy. You do get little drop ins from the other guys, sometimes right before their patrol.
Raphael will stop in to see Gram, ask about a new stitch he’s working on for his latest yarn project - a blanket for Mikey. A birthday present the young turtle isn’t supposed to know about.
Donatello dropped in to give you a secure phone so you could contact them in case of an emergency. “Or, you know, if you ever just want to talk about life, the universe, and everything.”
Mikey leaves you horoscopes, but it’s bittersweet. He doesn’t stick around to explain what he thinks they mean.
You convince yourself you’ve gotten over Leo, that the reason you spend more time looking at his horoscope than the others is because he’s the one perched on your roof and if the horoscope is predicting bad news for him then that translates into bad news for you, for your family, for your building. And you need to be prepared. You are absolutely not looking for any clues in regard to his feelings for you, any clues as to when you can expect him to knock on the window and apologize for pushing you away. When you can expect him to announce he’s come up with a way for you to be a boon to their cause instead of the distraction he’s determined you to be.
When the Krang launches an attack on Times Square, it’s all over the news. People are frantic. The city is in chaos. And you don’t know what to do. There’s no way off the island - and though you’d like your family to get to New Jersey, to get somewhere safely out of the way, you don’t even think of leaving yourself.
You and Leo haven't spoken to each other in over a week and you have no idea how he’s been handling everything. The guys haven’t given many clues. Mikey’s horoscopes are too vague to understand without his interpretations.
You know Leo holds so much inside, not wanting to burden his brothers with more than what he thinks they can handle. Why doesn’t he realize that if he trusted other people to share the burden, it’d be easier for everyone to carry? His brothers wouldn’t be as worried about him and all four of them would be better prepared to handle whatever dangers are to come.
You kiss your parents and Gram goodbye and head south toward Times Square. They know where you’re going. They don’t try to stop you. Mother straps a pack full of medical supplies to your back and squishes your face before you go. “I would be right beside you,” she says, then casts a meaningful look at Gram and Father.
The city is madness. The streets, which you thought would be teeming with people running for cover, are empty. Everyone who could find shelter has found it. Those who couldn't, well, they don't need shelter anymore.
You charge through the streets on foot, sure the subways are out of order. There are no cabs to take you, no clear streets to drive through even if there was a vehicle to drive.
You duck behind an abandoned news stand as a disembodied brain alien floats past. You peek through the rows of magazines to see it's not the only one. There must be a dozen krang moving down the streets. They don't seem to be looking for anything, led by an unseen force.
You startle when you feel a large, cool hand close over your mouth and nose. "Don' scream, a’right?" You'd recognize Raph's voice anywhere.
The tension in your shoulders eases up, but only a little.
"Your supposed t’ be hitchin’ a ride with Don. Gettin' the hell outta here with Gram and ya parents."
You pry Raph's hand from your face and gasp for air. The dude really doesn't realize just how massive his hand is. "I'm not leaving. I can help."
You notice the gash on his arm, and without hesitation, you swing your backpack off of one shoulder and around to your chest. It takes only a few seconds for you to fish out antiseptic spray and a roll of gauze. You patch him up efficiently. And Rapahel grunts. It's about as much thanks as you could hope to get while he's focused on the fight.
"Told you. I can help. Get back out there. Is anyone else hurt?"
"Bout a few thousand New Yorkers." Raph’s brow furrows and his eyes look haunted. It only lasts a moment before he shakes his head and shifts his frown to a grimace. “These slimeballs fucked with the wrong city.”
You look around at the First Responders on the scene. "What about your brothers?"
"Why dontcha ask 'em yourself?" he asks as he scans the area for any sign of those things .
You grab the secure cell from your pocket and dial the open line to the turtles. "Mikey. You alright?"
"Hey! What's shakin'?" Mikey’s greeting is casual and bright, even amid bedlam.
"You sound winded."
"I'm kinda in the middle of something,” he explains, and you can hear the thuds and shuffling of a brawl. “Can I call you back? Later? Oof. A lot later? Yow! That's my good side, dude!"
In spite of everything, he manages to make you smile. "Where's Leo?"
A gruff voice joins the line. Deep and calm. “I’m right here.” Mikey’s channel cuts out and the background falls silent. Leo has found somewhere quiet to talk. "Where are you?"
Raph leans toward the phone to answer for you. "Wit me."
There’s shock in his voice, confusion and concern. "You're supposed to be with Donnie."
"Well, I'm-"
"Helpin', alright?” Raphael defends. “Got a little banged up over here. Glad I had someone on my side t' patch me up.”
You smile at him and he shoves your shoulder a bit before smiling back. And you were wrong, your first impression of him… that his snarl couldn't be improved by a smile, because when Raph smiles it really does light up his face. Softens his edges.
It's like the rare occasion when Mikey lets himself get lost monologuing about his interests - before he catches himself and hopes that you aren't upset by his enthusiasm.
You've only seen Donnie smile like that once. Carefree.
But you've never seen Leo wear a carefree smile. Not ever.  Maybe something tight lipped. Or something fond. Sad. Leo’s smiles hold secrets and burdens. His shoulders hold responsibility. There isn't a carefree bone in his body. He holds the weight of the world on his shell. And try as he might to hide the toll it takes on him, his brothers can see he can’t do it alone.
"Fine,” Leo concedes. “Stay with Raph."
"We're comin' to you, brutha."
"Wait where you are- No!" There's a thud and a gasp and Leo gives a shout of pain before the line goes dead.
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qqueenofhades · 4 years
Note
I was hoping you would be able to help me form a response when my family says they're sick of hearing of systemic racism and white privilege because THEY have had to work for everything and believe nothing got handed to them (true in the way they're thinking, but you know what I mean).
Welp. First, I applaud you for taking the initiative to engage in difficult conversations with your family, since the only way embedded racist ideas are going to get confronted in white society is if racist white people hear it from their friends and family. They are going to cheerily ignore protestors, academics, newsreaders, popular culture, and certainly politicians who say anything to the contrary, but it’s harder to ignore and brush aside when it’s coming from people who are directly within your own family group. They can still then ignore it, but at least you’re trying to do something that is not at all fun but which is deeply necessary, and good for you.
First, there are a few things for you to consider. Is this a case where they actually don’t know the difference, but are willing to learn, or is this essentially sealioning (where they act like they don’t know the difference, but they absolutely do, and put the emotional labor on you to extensively define and explain and educate while never intending to change their stances on anything). If it’s the former, then there is some point in engaging in dialogue with them. If it’s the latter, it’s a giant emotional trap that you are within your rights not to engage with until they signal that they’re willing to engage productively. You don’t have to educate someone who is categorically unwilling to be educated (especially when it’s often deliberate ignorance). As people like to say, Google is free, and it’s their responsibility to take the first steps to change. You can continue to talk with them, but yes, that is contingent on them actually standing a chance of listening to you and not just you wearing yourself out on something that they don’t want to actually hear (because it threatens them and makes them feel Personally Wrong, and white people don’t like that).
There have been various books written on why it’s so hard to talk to white people about racism, which you may be interested in checking out, not least the book "Why I’m No Longer Talking to White People About Race” by Renni Eddo-Lodge. Ibram X. Kendi has also written “How to Be An Antiracist,” one of the bestselling books of this summer, either of which would be useful either in shaping your own arguments or (if they’re receptive) giving to your family. Once again, this is contingent on them signalling that they’re actually willing to listen, and not just to make you do pointless emotional labor. These books are probably available from your public library (though there’s probably a waitlist) or in other easily available formats.
Next, it’s a basic tenet of an anti-racist education that white people have never had to do this kind of reckoning, and thus get whiny, defensive, guilt-tripping, and “it’s not about ME I’m a GOOD PERSON” when it comes up. This also rests on the damaging and deeply intertwined effects of racism and classism, which has to be understood if you’re going to talk about it. One of the greatest tricks that racist capitalism ever pulled is convincing poor white people that they had more in common with their filthy rich white masters (people whose way of life will never in a thousand years be anything like each other’s) simply because they shared the inherent racial “purity” of being white. There have been political studies written on how poor/undereducated/working class white people have become such a reliably Republican constituency, because they have been successfully manipulated to believe that the white overlords are their “people” and they will constantly vote against their own economic, social, and cultural interests in favor of enriching amoral white demagogues who beat the populist xenophobic drum. Then they blame black and brown people for society’s ills and for the reason that they stay poor, rather than the rampaging oligarchs awarding themselves massive tax breaks and billion-dollar bailouts and refusing to extend unemployment benefits in case people “make too much money” from not working, just to name the most recent example. They are so poisoned on populist politics and white supremacy, which assures them that they’re better than anyone else by virtue of being white, that they actively attack politicians and policy platforms and other social welfare initiatives that would materially improve their own lives as “un-American.” This is maddening and sometimes baffling, but it’s how it works. Whiteness trumps all, currently literally thanks to the Orange Fuhrer. Problems in life are the fault of the Other.
This isn’t to say that poor white people are “dumb” and just unable to realize it, because they’re caught in a system that has done this literally from the start of America. In the early 17th century, indentured laborers and slaves in the American colonies were in fact more likely to be white. (The word “slave” comes from “Slav,” since that was the predominant ethnicity of slaves in medieval Europe; i.e. white eastern Europeans.) But even despite the fact that they were unpaid laborers, they were still white and thus recognized as human by their white masters, and thus when slave ships began arriving, it was easier for everybody to simply outright demonize and dehumanize the black African slaves. The poor white indentured servants got to feel better than the black slaves simply for the fact of their whiteness. Their lives obviously sucked, but their whiteness was in fact a mitigating factor in the suckiness that it involved once it was easier to use “animalistic” black people. And we wonder why America can’t ever confront its racist history properly. As Kendi calls it in his other book, it is stamped from the beginning.
As it has been put before, white people can and often do have difficult lives, because late-stage capitalism devours its workers no matter what color they are, but their whiteness isn’t a factor in why their lives are difficult. They will never encounter racial prejudice, race-based hate crime, discrimination for housing, education, employment, bank loans, daily microaggressions and identity erasure, constantly racist tropes in the media, politicians fingering them as everything wrong with America/the world, casual prejudices or assumptions even from close friends, assumed criminality based just on their race -- etc etc. The list goes on and on. Just because you have a hardscrabble economic background does not mean that your life has been made harder by your race -- because if you’re white, it hasn’t. (And as noted, poor white people have consistently voted for megalomaniac white men who don’t give a shit about them but promise them that everything is fine or should be better for them because of their whiteness, and then blame minorities for being the source of their problems.)
I honestly wonder if racism would still be such a problem in America if we had a remotely more equitable economic system, because when you’re well off and have your basic needs consistently met and don’t need to worry that you’re one paycheck away from disaster, it’s harder to constantly be paranoid that your differently colored neighbors are stealing everything from you and the cause of all society’s ills. The historian Patrick Hyder Patterson wrote a very interesting book on material culture in Yugoslavia in the 20th century, where he basically argued that despite the spectacular collapse of the federation into the Yugoslavian wars of the 90s, things didn’t really go to hell until after the economy crashed following Josip Broz Tito’s death in 1980. While there were obviously ethnic fault lines and conflicts between Serbs, Croats, Montenegrins, Bosniaks, Albanians, etc, when there wasn’t any money and any jobs and everyone thought everyone else was to blame, THAT is when the whole thing blew up into a genocidal civil war clusterfuck. Food for thought.
This is why people talk about economic justice and racial justice as going hand in hand. When there is a scarcity of resources and no social safety net, people are obviously more inclined to look for scapegoats and to blame someone for taking their entitlement (while still somehow refusing to blame the billionaires and corporate oligarch who are ACTUALLY stealing from them). They indeed actively resist any attempts to make their own lives better as being “socialist” or “un-American” and take pride in the fact that there’s absolutely jacksquat nothing (until of course, something like the coronavirus pandemic hits and it’s revealed just how many of us were always one missed paycheck away from disaster). Then when they need government assistance (while disdaining the government as tyrannical the rest of the time, unless it’s Trump’s actively tyrannical lot, but hey, we don’t have time to unpack all that) it’s still shameful and something they shouldn’t be using, instead of their basic entitlement to a decent life.
This country is poisoned on a lot of toxic beliefs, but this is one of the deepest-running one, and which will always get in the way of poor white people dealing with racism: their lives suck, but they have ALWAYS been told that despite that, they’re still better just for being white, which is their consolation prize for supporting white populists who actively rob them, and they haven’t even always consciously registered that. They just feel that if they’re “fine,” even if they’re not fine, then black people are just malcontents and criminals who can’t hack it. In 2016, there was a lot of ink spilled over how poor white people felt a sense of economic grievance and being left behind, which was why they voted for Trump, but... Trump was never going to do a damn thing about that??? He doesn’t actually do anything for his supporters except feed them his jingoistic Orange Nazi stump speeches. They voted for Trump to feel vindicated, not to actually improve their lives, and it’s damn clear by now that not only has he NOT improved their lives, he has no desire to do so. He just wants them to cheer for him and feed his ego, not fix any problems.
Basically, racism and capitalism and the American political system intersect in multiple deeply toxic ways to do precisely what you’re talking about; producing poor white people who feel that they shouldn’t be included in the reckoning with racism because if THEY worked hard and they don’t live in a mansion, somehow racism is fake and black people should just shut up and get a job etc etc. This is because poor white people have been systematically conditioned to support white supremacy at the direct expense of their own economic and social interests; it’s terrible, but that’s how it functions. They will never in a million years have anything in common with the (white) ruling class, but they still instinctively identify with them rather than people in their own deprived economic class who are different races or colors or religions. That is how white supremacy has supported the hyper-inequality of the industrial age, and vice verse, and it is one of capitalism’s best functions for survival, so it’s in the interests of the overlords to maintain it. Stop the workers from recognizing pan-racial solidarity based on economic grievance, and compete with each other and blame each other rather than the overarching system, easy!
Anyway. Once again, this is long. But in short, the attitudes your family are exemplifying are a direct result of both racism and classism as they have been deliberately cultivated in the American social and political system, and the interlocking causes and symptoms of both have to be recognized (and acknowledged) before they can get to dealing with that. I don’t know how that will go, and I don’t have an easy shortcut. But I’m glad you’re trying. Good luck.
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patrickstargang · 4 years
Text
The Firelord’s Promise (Kyoshi fic)
Chapter 1: Nomad’s Land
Chapter 2: A Bureaucrat's Word
Chapter 3: Throw Away Your Honor, Rally In The Streets
Chapter 4: Unfortunate Truths
Chapter 5: A Change For The Better
Chapter 6: The Roles We’re Given
Chapter 7: To Save A Life
Final Chapter: I’ll Always Be With You
*this fic contains massive spoilers for Shadow of Kyoshi
The distance from Yokoya to the Fire Nation wasn’t particularly far, but sometimes a sky bison could be unreliable in long distances. It didn’t help that everyone from the estate (minus Aunt Mui) decided to join in on Kyoshi’s “diplomatic” meeting with the Firelord. Even the Flying Opera Company begrudgingly tagged along as back up. They weren’t in support of dabbling with the authorities but they still swore loyalty to their brothers and sisters.
They found themselves in a canyon, the slightly rougher areas of the Fire Nation wilderness that bordered the capital. To get to the capital was about a day’s journey on foot, but it was already nearing dusk. Everyone made camp while the sun was beginning to set.
Kyoshi stood away from the camp, attempting to earthbend, something that should be more than familiar to her. While her state of bending improved since the day Hei-ran arrived at the estate, Kyoshi still found herself struggling with bending. She lifted up a large chunk of the ground in front of her, but it began to swivel around as she tried to push it forward. It was fragile and unbalanced, crumbling before it could make impact with anything. Her face strained as she tried again, feeling like it was more of an effort than it should be.
Rangi noticed Kyoshi struggling, seeing the Avatar having to face the obstacle of basic bending was a sorry sight. But Rangi remembered her promise, and she knew what to do in a moment like this.
She walked up behind Kyoshi, observing the towering girl as she tried to hold another chunk of stone before it collapsed. “Having trouble?”
Kyoshi shook her head with a stoic face. Rangi then stood in front of her with a knowing smirk. “Are you sure?”
Kyoshi then remembered the promise she made to Rangi, to be more honest with her when she needed to. She exhaled, letting the fourth attempt at shifting earth fall to the ground.
“I’ve just been having trouble with bending lately. Like yesterday, I couldn’t even bend a puddle, now I can’t even bend my native element.”
Rangi began to understand the severity of the situation. At first, she thought her superstition about the Avatar not learning the elements in order was becoming true, but she knew that saying that wouldn’t help. So she had other ideas.
Rangi lightly tugged on the sleeve of Kyoshi’s kimono, getting her attention. “How about some firebending practice? This time we can actually start with fire fists.”
Rangi stood back and reeled her arm behind her and swiftly let out a quick but forceful flame from her fist, like a sudden fiery jab. Kyoshi observed, noting the delicate details she might have missed the first time she properly learned the technique. She copied her motions to the best of her ability, only to have produced a light spark from her knuckles. She hid her face in her hands, filled with aggravation.
“I don’t understand! I was fine a few days ago, now it’s like my bending disappeared overnight.”
Rangi’s concern grew, she wasn’t sure if this was something that she could help with. Jinpa stood off to the side listening to their conversation, but after Kyoshi’s last statement he decided to join the group.
“Maybe it has something to do with your chi flow,” said Jinpa while stroking his chin.
Kyoshi remembered her lessons about chi flow at the Air Temples. She learned about its place as the energy that connects all life, more or less the ultimate life source. But she also learned that it is the life force of the bender , giving them the powers they possess. And as a result, she learned about chi block, an instance where bending is rendered almost useless by some physical or mental obstacle. She wasn’t being attacked in any way so she crossed off physical obstacles from the possibilities. All that was left was the more tricky of the two.
“Honestly I’m surprised you haven’t had a chi block sooner, especially with your run-in with the Yellow Necks.”
Kyoshi remembered the injuries she took from her fight with Xu Ping, which should have been a complete block of her chi from everything the Monks told her. Yet she was still able to bend after her recovery. So why was this happening now?
Rangi wasn’t entirely knowledgeable about chi, as it was a concept that was never taught in-depth at the Academy. However, she tried to move the conversation in the right direction. “Is there a way to unblock her chi?”
“Well, one way to do that is to connect to your spiritual side. Sometimes this could mean visiting a spiritual place or something as simple as clearing your mind and emotions through meditation. It all depends on how bad your chi block is.”
It was strange for Kyoshi. In terms of being the Avatar, she still had trouble connecting with the spiritual, mainly since most of her encounters with it left her in dire situations. But this gave her an idea.
“Maybe I can try going into the Spirit World, there's nothing more spiritual than talking with your past lives, right?”
Jinpa thought about it for a moment and quickly nodded in agreement. “I don’t see why it couldn’t work.”
But then an air of doubt came over Kyoshi, she looked down. “But at the same time, I’ve only gotten it to work on rare occasions. The only thing I’ve noticed is that I was able to enter the Spirit World whenever I was in a spiritual place, and as far as I know, there aren’t any spiritual places near he-”
Suddenly, a rustling came from the bushes next to camp that caught everyone off guard. It stopped for a moment before rustling again. It also sounded as if voices were coming from them. At that point everyone became alert. Rangi held out a ball of fire in her hand and Kirima brought a stream out from her water skin, ready to attack. Kyoshi got into her earthbending stance before she remembered her chi block, awkwardly dropping her hands.
Rangi stepped toward the bush, a stern authority in her voice. “Who's there! Show yourself!”
Suddenly, four different people rolled out from the small bush. They were wearing light Fire Nation clothing with long sleeves and carried small bags and satchels. One of them, a somewhat scrawny man with a big beard and spectacles, held up his hands trying to stop the tension.
“Hey, hey, we mean no harm! We didn’t mean to eavesdrop.”
Kirima raised an eyebrow. “Oh really, then why don’t you explain what you're doing out here in the first place. Who are you people?”
At that moment, Jinpa noticed something about the group. They were all wearing necklaces, more specifically necklaces made from fire lilies. Jinpa’s eyes widened. He moved past Rangi to meet the group.
“You-your all nomads, aren’t you.”
The bearded man smiled at the sudden recognition. “Yes my good man, more specifically we’re Fire Nation nomads.”
Kirimia and Rangi slowly let their guard down, both confused at Jinpa’s interaction. He shook the bearded man’s hand, keeping his polite demeanor.
Kirima walked up to the group of nomads. “That still doesn’t explain what you're doing out here.”
“Why, we’re out on a spiritual journey to find enlightenment. We’re here to find Szeto’s Pillar.”
A feeling of suspicion came over Kirima. “Szeto’s what?”
The bearded man turned off to the side and pointed out into the distance. “Szeto’s Pillar.”
Surrounded by a sea of cooled molten rock stood a towering, monolithic pillar of stone. With its height, it was able to partially block out the sun as it was setting.
The bearded man continued to gaze off into the distance. “During the age of Avatar Szeto, one of the volcanos near the Fire Nation capital was erupting, causing mass hysteria and panic for the people. But Szeto stopped the magma flow from the safety of his stone pillar. Now, these volcanoes will stay dormant for years to come. This pillar has become a sort of sacred spot, a place to stand where one of the great Avatars once stood.”
This gave Kyoshi an idea. Not only did she have a spiritual place to unblock her chi, but this could be an opportunity to speak with Szeto. She was able to contact Kuruk and Yangchen, this could be the next step.
She turned to Rangi, whispering so the nomads wouldn’t overhear. “This might be my chance, if I can get my chi flow back by tomorrow we’ll be able to make it into the capital safely.”
Rangi let out a light chuckle, realizing this was Kyoshi’s way of asking to leave. “You don’t have to tell me twice, go on ahead.”
Kyoshi smiled and kissed Rangi on her forehead before starting a light jog towards the Pillar.
The bearded man halted his conversation with Jinpa to note Kyoshi’s sudden leave. “Gee, your friend there is pretty excited to see the Pillar.”
Jinpa nervously rubbed the back of his head. “Yeah, she can be a bit….enthusiastic sometimes.”
The bearded man let out a hearty laugh before surveying the area. “Well, it looks like you're all settled in pretty nicely, I guess our journey can wait till tomorrow. But in the meantime….”
The bearded man and the other three nomads all pulled out jars filled with a strange looking liquid.
“Who wants to drink cactus juice and find spiritual enlightenment!”
-----------------------------
Night quickly came over the canyon, the campfire lit up the darkness and spirits were high. Mostly. The nomads were already in full swing with some of their “spiritual” exercises. Jinpa decided to join in to varying degrees of success. He thought that cactus juice was a spiritual cleanser, like what onion-banana juice was back at the Air Temples. Now he was laughing hysterically at the wildlife and his own airbending while the nomads incoherently argued about who opened the most of their seven chakras.
Kirima and Wong were both amused and terrified at Jinpa’s state. The airbender was known to be somewhat of a stickler for good behavior, but now he had no regard for proper manners. Hei-ran looked as if her soul was leaving her body, watching everything that was unfolding alongside the other two members of the Flying Opera Company. She had her blackboard and chalk but even her words couldn’t communicate the confusion and distaste she felt. Atuat almost tried the cactus juice, but after seeing how Jinpa fared after trying it she decided against it.
Rangi half paid attention to the antics that were taking place, but part of her mind was elsewhere. There was a lot of uncertainty for what tomorrow would hold. Even though she was the Avatar’s bodyguard, she was also part of the Fire Nation military. Now she would have to face the idea of going against her own nation’s leader. She had fought to stop corruption in many other parts of the world, but it was a different beast to deal with corruption in her own home. If Zoryu had not kept his promise, then that means Rangi would have to go against her own code of honor.
But then another thought came to her. She had said before that she wished to share the greatness of the Fire Nation with the rest of the world, but with everything that was happening she was beginning to question how true that “greatness” really was. The more she thought about it, the more it upset her. The Saowan clan was charged not for the few people that were creating pushback, but for the entire clan itself. Chaejin and Huazo obviously had their hand in starting a commotion but there were those who were arrested without knowing what was even happening. It made her stomach churn.
But then she became much more grateful for Kyoshi, she could have pretended that Zoryu’s treatment of the Saowan clan never happened and let them all be imprisoned, or worse. But she didn’t. She became a headache for both Zoryu and the chancellors. The Firelord was trying to make an easy solution for a not so easy problem, which might cause greater harm to his people and his own status than he may realize. Kyoshi wasn’t out for what she believed was revenge, she was out for stopping injustice enacted by those who were the supposed preservers of justice. But the possibility of killing Zoryu was still a thorn in Rangi’s side, the consequences for it could be much greater than the Saowan’s imprisonment. What could Kyoshi be gaining if she went through with it?
Then on that thought, Rangi realized Kyoshi was still at the Pillar even though hours had already passed. She might be having trouble getting into the Spirit World. Rangi remembered her promise to Kyoshi, as she got up from her seat.
She leaned over to Atuat. “I’m going to go check up on her. Could you keep an eye on Jinpa for me?”
The healer chuckled lightly. “Don’t worry sweetie, I’ll make sure he doesn’t embarrass himself...well any more than he already has.”
As she said that, Jinpa was reaching for another glass of cactus juice before Hei-ran took the drink out of his hands and threw it into the bushes.
------------------------------
The terrain of the cooled magma was uneven, like trying to maneuver through a valley filled with millions of small hills. Rangi skipped from the peak of each mound, getting closer to the Pillar. Once she arrived, she noticed a stone stairway around it, one that was built at some point after Szeto’s time. She ascended to the spiraling staircase, noting just how tall the Pillar actually was. Once she made it to the top, she found her Yokoya girl meditating.
At least that's what it looked like at first. As Rangi moved closer she could see the strain in Kyoshi’s brow, like someone trying their hardest to look as if they were at peace. Kyoshi let out a soft sigh and opened her eyes. She turned her head to see Rangi.
“Still having trouble?”
Kyoshi looked back out into the distance, feeling the soft breeze that such a high spot gave her. “Yeah….But I’m still not getting anywhere. I’m the only one who can bend the four elements and communicate with the Spirit World and right now I can do neither of those two things. Some Avatar I am, huh….”
Rangi gave her a concerned pout. “You seem to forget really quickly don’t you,” she said as she shifted to sit beside Kyoshi. “You may think that you have to face your Avatar duties alone, but you don’t. I’ll be here for you, even if I can only help a little.”
Kyoshi’s sardonic tone quickly changed to sincerity. She didn’t forget, but it was still nice to remember that Rangi meant what she said that night. “Thank you….”
“Now, maybe you just need a partner,” Rangi crossed her legs and put her hands together in the same position that Kyoshi was in. “Try breathing with me.”
Kyoshi straightened herself and closed her eyes, waiting for Rangi’s orders. It was like doing Horse stance again, except without the pain in her legs.
“Now do as I do…..In.”
Kyoshi inhaled at her command, letting it linger as long as it needed to.
“And out…..”
She exhaled through her nose. Already she had a greater sense of flow than she had when she was alone.
“In…..”
She inhaled again, she was fully in sync with Rangi. While the Avatar was uncertain of her many bending abilities, she felt comforted by the fact that she still had air on her side.
“And out….”
Kyoshi could feel Rangi’s warmth beside her, every breath like an ember slowly growing its flame. It was relaxing and stimulating at the same time.
Soon the words were fading out, but she still kept into the flow of her breathing before she was doing it instinctually. Sound began to fade out completely, her mind becoming clear. She stayed in that silence for a little bit.
Then she felt a cool air come over her, like that of a mist coming over the mountains. She slowly began to open her eyes, seeing the abstract clouds that enveloped the Spirit World before she heard a voice. A voice that sounded experienced yet rough.
“It’s about time you showed up, you're a few months late.”
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fimflamfilosophy · 4 years
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“Is DnD Still Popular?”
To some of you giant nerds, the question, “Is DnD still popular,” is probably one of the stranger things you’ll read today, but within a specific context it makes a lot of sense. Speaking of, the show “Stranger Things” presented a popular, physical look at what DnD beasties might feel like, even if it didn’t present an honest view of what DnD games really play like. Along with more online media referencing the game and sites like Roll20 making it easier to join a group, it makes sense. Is this a temporary boom or has the roleplaying community seen a lot of permanent additions to its nerdy hobby?
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I wouldn’t have numbers to say, myself, but for what it’s worth, roleplaying is always a very personal experience. And for a few of us, the question isn’t, “Are people still playing DnD?” Of course they are - it’s all anyone plays! The question is, “Can you get anyone to play anything else?”
What Is DnD?
For some people, Dungeons & Dragons has become so intertwined with the concept of roleplaying that people think DnD and roleplaying are synonymous. If you roleplay, you play DnD. Originally, this had a kernel of truth. There are articles about the history of the system, and during its inception the game had a hard time taking off. Fundamentally it was asking people to play make-believe, but with a system of mathematical rules and designs. We know now that this type of thing is like catnip to massive dork-faced neckbeards, but at the time it wasn’t expected to have much appeal.
Eventually it did get off the ground, and it became the standard for the entire concept of a roleplaying game. And as with all “firsts to the market”, there have been many competitors and copycats, but it’s difficult to pry the audience away when you need everyone to use the same system. In economics they call this “network utility value” - that is, a fax machine is useless if only one person owns one. You can only send faxes to other people with fax machines, so if another company tries to invent their own offshoot of the fax machine, they’ll never get anyone to adopt it because everyone is already using the existing fax machine network. Everybody knows DnD, which means that if you go to a convention or look for games online, you know you’re going to find more players for that system than any other.
Why Does DnD Continue to Work?
In early editions of DnD, there were a lot more rules, and as a result more freedom to design your characters. When I first started roleplaying, it was during the 3rd edition of the system, where you could still allocate skill points to become better or worse at specific skills like lying, climbing, forgery, or crafting. This meant that with good planning, you could play a sub-optimal wizard and make up for it somewhat by investing a lot in your “persuasion” skills to rely on talk more than magic.
But being the system that everyone has to learn isn’t enough to stay on top forever. Other systems like GURPS have taken hold by now, and some types of popular nerd media have introduced their own completely unique systems designed to simulate their specific media universes. The owners of DnD had two choices: either make the game more open and try to eat the lunch of other companies, or make all of DnD easier to play in general to capture a broader audience.
So they released 4th edition! We don’t talk about 4th edition. And then they quickly released 5th edition (and a few mumbled apologies), which streamlined a lot of things about the game to the extent I’m not sure why they even let you control your character stats at all now. Skills became baked in with your level, and most of the game is about choosing abilities when you level up. It’s become very similar to playing an MMO, and I believe that’s the point.
One of the big things you always see in a complicated roleplaying system is players spending hours putting together a character. For your experienced player, this is a labor of love. You really care about the small details and want to make sure you get it right, or you’re a Win-At-All-Costs type who wants to make sure you’re rolling the biggest numbers. Either way you’re familiar and know what you’re doing, but it presents a hurdle to new players, and that hurdle has been largely done away with in 5th edition.
No matter how old you are, how experienced you are, how creative you are (or aren’t), or how much you know about any aspect of the game, you can play 5e DnD. I think you could play as young as seven years old and have minimal problems, because all you have to do is choose a job and virtually everything else is filled in for you, as if by a program, as if a video game. An experienced player can help a new one whip up a character within fifteen minutes, and that new guy will be rolling dice at the dragon about as well as everyone else.
DnD is the Worst System
But DnD’s accessibility is also its greatest downfall. Because everything is sort of programmed out, you find a lot of players eventually growing bored with the same-old, and they try to find ways to inject new life into the system. They invent new races, new classes, new abilities, and so on - they call this “homebrew”. yet many people are bad at creating balance and fairness for something they personally intend to play, and DnD recognizes this problem. It has a lot of supplemental books telling you all you need to know about other races and classes you might want to play, and in theory they are as fair and powerful as anything in the base system.
Yet no amount of homebrew or supplementary material will solve DnD’s core problem: it’s rigid. If you want to play, you need a battle mat, because every spell, every action, can travel or act within a certain number of squares and you always need to know exactly where you’re standing. Players are expected to be able to take a certain number of actions per turn based on their level, and do an expected amount of damage. Monster encounters are built loosely around the concept of “Challenge Rating”, which is meant to imply a group of four players will find a CR of 5 suitably challenging if they are all level five. Basically it plays like “X-Com”.
And as you lock people in these mechanical, video game-styled designs, you find people champing at the bit. Not everyone wants to choose their abilities at level up or have their skill proficiencies dictated by what level they are. Some people want to express truly outlandish concepts, or play something that isn’t specifically designed around the idea of walking room to room blasting monsters. You’ll see people in roleplaying communities often asking, “Does anyone have any good ideas to homebrew [this idea] and make it work?”
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Fans of DnD argue the homebrew approach works. Yes, it’s complicated and frustrating to invent entirely new classes and races for a single game where you don’t know how long you’ll play or what level you’ll reach, but DnD’s strict rules and design philosophy is a perk to those people, not a drawback.
Yet a fact of note is that a quote from a game I run got into a popular “Out of Context DnD” blog. The quote was, “ Mecha-Jesus unleashes a barrage of flames from his palms, but the train-snake martially dodges out of the way!”
It received 337 notes, and I was a little surprised by that. The game is a post-apocalyptic Road Warrior setting where the team boss decided to kill God as revenge for one of the gang members dying. Also featured in that day’s session was a battle between two men operating bucket cranes in a duel to the death above a giant grain silo, among eight other equally implausible events based loosely on Dante’s Inferno. For me, Mecha-Jesus is not a 300 notes event - it’s literally every other Friday.
What Do You Want to Play?
In my view, DnD often poses the question, “Are you even roleplaying?” I mean really. A lot of players feel like they are because they do an accent and come up with a backstory, but if you set yourself next to another player who has the same character stats and you’re playing together in the same game, has the system really given you the tools to solve problems all that differently? And the answer is is broadly, no.
I understand the counter-argument. Every player is unique. But in their way each Paladin in “World of Warcraft” is unique too. They have different gear, different competencies of player, and may take different abilities, but fundamentally they’re expected to crash dungeons and use what they’re given to kill monsters. The only advantage DnD has is that the GM can allow his players to interact with scenery items or talk to things, and you’ll see debate on exactly how much leniency a GM should give his players to act outside DnD’s base mechanics.
That’s a mentality. Some people like the safety of the system. They like to know what all the monsters are, what the risks are, what the rewards are, and have it all neatly lined up where you can see it. They want to join an Adventuring Guild that will bureaucratically assign a dungeon for them to attack so they always have something to do and a sure reward for doing it. The GM went through the trouble of drawing that dungeon out, after all. DnD is extremely safe.
And then there’s the alternative. I actually learned to roleplay among theater nerds who were already big into the concept of improv and narrative. One of them used to joke, “If you think DnD is the best system for the game, you know it’s not character-driven,” because any time you’re fine with trying to build an actual human around a set of level-up choices, you’re probably not designing the strongest possible personality.
Going back to media making DnD more popular, the first televised introduction to DnD I can personally recall is an episode of “Dexter’s Lab” where they address exactly this conflict. In it, Dexter runs a game where he forces his friends to play by his rules, where he wins. When Dexter rolls poorly, he turns the dice over to a better number and declares his evil wizard “fried” the team of adventurers. Then his sister, Dee Dee, takes over, and with no knowledge of the game’s rules at all, embarks on an improvised session of pure roleplaying where the guys tell her what they do and she tells them what happens. The sheets are just guidelines for them, and if they say they can do something Dee Dee accepts it.
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Dee Dee’s roleplaying is open. It’s a void, and for some people, when you look into the void it looks back. How do you control everyone when they can do anything? It requires a certain level of trust that some players have a difficult time not abusing, yet weirdly everyone I’ve ever known who would lie and cheat during a roleplaying game actually preferred DnD, and I think I know why.
Rules Can Be Broken, but the Suspension of Disbelief is Immutable
The grognards that break the rules in DnD do so because the rules are so strict that they ironically can be easily broken. If the system says people take a certain amount of damage when they fall, and you find a way to throw to them that elevation consistently, by gum they’ll damn well take that damage. It’s in the rules! A friend I know combats this by saying if his players exploit the rules, then the monsters will start exploiting them too, to discourage arms races of bullshit.
What I’m describing is often called “rules lawyering”. So named because it involves finding a rules passage, interpreting the rule so the wording sounds like it favors an exploit, and then leveraging that into a powerful ability players were not meant to have. Because DnD requires you to know absolutely everything about your relative locations and words like “Attack” can have important diverging meanings depending on context, it’s a system extremely vulnerable to lawyering.
But with a more open system based on narrative and characters, it becomes harder to lawyer something you shouldn’t. In an open system, you build what the game calls for without consulting a bunch of charts and level guides. If you’re super heroes, you build super heroes. Cyborgs are cyborgs, Orcs are orcs - it’s whatever, and if you try to do anything outside the believability of the game, the GM tells you no. He has more authority in a more narrative game because the GM leads the narrative.
I’m personally fond of the Hero System, which ascribes massive ranges to all forms of weapons (a gun or eye laser can reach you down a long hallway) so the only general questions that need to be asked are, “Are you close enough to punch a guy?” and “Are you bunched up close enough to all be hit by this grenade?” You don’t need battle mats and the games play a lot more intuitively. There are two books of rules in Hero and they can be specific, but most of the rules revolve around character design rather than how to play, and fiddly things like physics or bursting through walls are meant to be decided depending on the type of game, at the GM’s discretion. There are guidelines, but they’re only that.
So if someone tells you they can punch through a wall in your noir investigator game, you tell them no, because the rules are just guidelines and in this game you can’t just drive your fist through a concrete brick even if you can find figures in the book that say maybe you can, because the book also says maybe you can’t - you’re expected to play the narrative, not the game. You can punch through walls in the super hero game where that’s typical, but not in this one.
From DnD to Anything Else
Of course, the open systems also present an opportunity for players to be very different in skill sets and abilities. You could imagine DnD is like “Power Rangers”, where everyone’s a different color and has different weapons but they’re basically all pretty much on the same level. An open system will wind up more like “Avatar the Last Airbender”, where one player is going to be Toph and someone else is going to be playing Sokka. 
It’s important in DnD that everyone be the same, because a lot of the game is spent in a 20ft x 20ft room full of skeletons (or Putties) - Toph would single-handedly dominate every challenge. Whereas in a narrative-driven game the ability to crush everything with a rock doesn’t actually solve half your problems and whoever’s playing Sokka probably winds up more active than the person playing Toph.
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At the end of it all, that’s why the question for me is whether you can take the players out of DnD and take DnD out of the players. Everyone plays DnD, but can you get people to play Sokka and have a good time if Toph is in the party? Personally I think it helps to start people on systems other than DnD, and then they can go into DnD if they like being in small rooms full of skeletons.
Of course, trying to start people on anything but DnD is usually defeated by the network utility! Everyone knows DnD! It’s THE system synonymous with the hobby! A few too many times I’ve seen people play a DnD game and say roleplaying just isn’t for them because it’s boring. All you do is wait for your turn and then roll dice at goblins.
But all I can say to that is, you never roleplayed, man. You joined a pen-and-paper video game. I agree, throwing dice at goblins sucks. I used to have a friend who would compulsively roll dice when he got bored waiting for turns in games like that, and when asked what he was rolling for, he’d joke, “I’m killing the dragon! I’m killing the dragon!” Him, enjoying the experience of DnD combat in between other people’s turns.
In many groups that’s all DnD is, silly accents and go-nowhere backstories aside. Acting is hard. But if you’re very lucky, and you know just the right people, it’s possible to land in a game that is pure story and character, and those things are a rare treasure and a real blast.
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givemequeen · 5 years
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extra toothbrush ; teddy!george x reader
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request: could u write something with george where he's helping the reader with homework? idk a/n: in this fic George’s siblings are off in uni or whatever they did after school. also what the fuck is the spelling of tough? like shouldn’t u read it as ‘tou’? and it would make more sense if it were ‘tuff’ in this easy i will- i actually kind of like this pairing: geo x reader summary: feeling hopeless about the homework and getting George to help you. warnings: nothing, stress about homework tho ALSO DO UR HOMEWORK/ PROJECTS, DONT LEAVE IT TO THE LAST DAY LIKE I DO year: ‘59? during school word count: 1,518
GUYS PLEASE TELL ME WHAT YOU LIKE ABOUT IT (if u do) SO I KIND WRITE MORE LIKE THAT
do you like sneaking out at night? the lil bathroom counter top thing? ^the one where reader wraps her legs around his waist? do you like the cuddling?
EVEN IF ITS LITTLE THINGS!! I WANT TO IMPROVE MY WRITING :)
You looked at the pile of papers you had on your table and sighed. You were never going to get this done and you shouldn’t have left this to the last day but here you were, stressing about you are never going to finish all the papers you had to write up. The clock on your wall read 9 pm, you had finished dinner and would have to go to sleep soon.
But when you would be able to go to sleep? Never. Because you were never going to finish your work in time. George lingered on the back of your mind, he sure as hell hadn’t finished it... unless? What if he had finished it? Maybe he could help you, even if he had not finished his homework he could help you, maybe you could get somewhere.
Without thinking twice you packed your homework in your bag and climbed out your window. “That was dumb.” you thought as you landed on the floor, your parents weren’t home, making you home alone, you could have walked right out the front door and no one would have said anything since no one was home to say anything.
In no time you were under George’s window and you were throwing pebbles at it. You saw the curtain pull back and the window opened. George looked around and down at you, a smile appearing on his face and then a frown. He was happy to see you but why were you here this late? George didn’t like it when you walked alone at night, he cared for you and your safety.
You climbed up to his window and slipped inside, your bag fell from your back but you didn’t care. Once he closed the window and turned to you you went to hug him, George laughed and fell back onto his bed. You cuddled onto his chest, his warmth and scent engulfing you and making you feel a hundred times better. He rubbed your back and kissed the top of your head.
“Everything alright love? Whatcha doing here this late?”
“I hate homework. I hate school. I hate everything.” you grumbled, your voice slightly muffled by his clothes.
“Even me?” he asked with a fake sad tone.
“Yes,” you said. “Joking, I love you,” you added quickly when you felt his chest quickly rise and fall due to his laughs.
“And I love you but what's wrong?” George asked as he ran his hand through your hair. You pulled back, slightly rasing yourself, your hands holding up your weight.
“I haven’t done the homework they set for tomorrow. But in my defence, they set it yesterday! I have a fucking life, don’t they know that? And other classes!” you complained before plopping down.
“Ow!” George grimaced in pain when you fell onto his stomach, your chin digging down. 
“Sorry,” you mumbled.
“‘S alright, I’ll help you.” George offered, you arose once more this time with a smile on your face, not a pout.
“You finished it?” you asked excitedly.
“You think that highly of me?” he questioned, one of his eyebrows arching in surprise.
“Don’t flatter yourself.” you stuck out your tongue to him.
“Wow thank you so much yn. Very mature.” George said, you got off him and smiled proudly. He laughed and followed you as you went to pick up your bag. “Lets do this then.” you nodded and emptied your bag on his carpeted floor. You sat down cross-legged and George picked up his work before copying your moves. “Alright, take a look at what I’ve done and we can go from there...”
Doing homework with George went by rather quickly and by the end of the session you were so fucking tired. You had a book on your lap, your head on George’s thighs. He had his back against the side of his bed, his legs extended and he was looking down at you. You had closed your eyes but they fluttered open when he stroked your cheek. “Hmm?” you asked as you turned to face his stomach.
“We’re done,” he whispered not wanting to fully wake you up.
“I don’t want to go back home,” you complained and wrapped your arms around his torso. “It’s far away and it's cold and you’re warm and it's lonely.”
“Stay here.” this made you open your eye.
“What?” you asked suddenly much more awake.
“Sleep over here, with me, don’t go back home,” George repeated pushing your hair out of your face. You propped yourself up on your hand and smiled
“Won’t your parents mind?”
“I doubt they’ll see you, they usually go to work before I leave the house. And if they did, they wouldn’t mind, probably be pissed at me for having a girl over and having you climb in through the window...” George said with a contagious laugh. “But never you, they love you.” you beamed at his last remark and leaned forward to kiss him.
“Wait, I don’t have any clothes,” you said groaning and falling back onto his lap.
“You can use my t-shirt to sleep in.”
“And for school tomorrow?”
“We could...” he trailed his fingers up your stomach. “Skip first period, go to yours and get your clothes?” his fingers went up to your nose, he bopped them garnering a delighted smiled from you.
“Sounds like a plan.” you both got off the floor. George walked over to his wardrobe while you sat down on the bed.
“Here you go.” he stuck out his hand, you grabbed onto the t-shirt but he didn’t let go. Instead, George pulled you up, his other hand went around your back and pulled you against his body. You gasped at the sudden moves. He finally let go of the t-shirt and used the same hand to brush a strand of hair out of your face. “You are so fucking beautiful and intelligent yn, I love you so much,” George whispered, you blushed and looked away from him. He gently cupped your chin and made you look up to him. “Never forget that, alright?”
“I won’t, I love you too Geo.” his hand went up to your cheek and you leaned against it, sighing contently at the warmth and your eyes closed. “You are so talented, the way you work that guitar of yours... And you’re so handsome, so cute, my little baby boy.” you opened your eyes to find a massive grin on his face.
“I’m not cute, I’m tough,” he said pouting.
“Oh yes, my tough teddy boy.” you stood on your tippy-toes to kiss his lips.
“Go get changed.” George laughed letting go of you. You walked away and squeaked when he pinched your bum.
“George!” you hissed as you slipped into his bathroom. 
“What?” he retorted, his hands up in defeat. Once you came out he had also changed into his pyjamas. 
“Do you have an extra toothbrush?” you asked him.
“Yeap, under the sink.” George followed you to the bathroom and opened a new toothbrush for you. Just like with the t-shirt he didn’t give it right away. You went to take it but he pulled apart. “Give me a kiss.” you rolled your eyes but gave it anyway.
“Thank you,” you said once he gave the toothbrush to you.
“No problem my love,” George answered as he put toothpaste on both toothbrushes. You both brushed your teeth and it took much longer than expected, you could stop laughing at the faces George was pulling. But you finally managed to rinse your mouth and get ready for bed. You sat on the counter, your hands tucked under your thighs, as George finished up. He walked in front of you and situated himself in between your legs.
You wrapped your legs around his waist pulling him closer to your body. Your hands snaked around his neck and his hands went around your waist. George’s eyes scanned your face, his eyesight shifted from one of your eyes to the other before landing on both. “God, you’re so beautiful yn.” he groaned, one of his hands went to the side of your face and he pulled back any hairs that might have landed on your face blocking his view.
George peppered your faces with kisses earning amused giggles from you. He picked you up and walked you out of the bathroom, with his foot he closed the door of the bathroom and later on turned off the lights. You cuddled onto him and whined when he gently set you down on the bed. But you weren’t apart for long, after turning on the light on his bedside table and the main light of the room off, George joined you in bed. 
He tugged the covers and pulled them over the both of you. Once you were both warm and cozy he wrapped his arms around you pulling you close, your back pressed against his chest. His heartbeat was thumping against your back and it soothed you. “Goodnight my love,” George whispered once the light was shut off.
“Goodnight Georgie.”
tag list;
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kob131 · 4 years
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https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=7txJGzFpifw
30 seconds. That’s how long it took for me to get mad at this review.
“We start the episode post-argument where it’s explained Atlas’ borders are closed. Then the military guards suddenly change their minds and decide the group can speak to their commanding officer, Caroline Cordovon.”
The very first thing about the episode and we already have a problem. 
The guard’s change wasn’t sudden- They changed when they saw Weiss.
Qrow: Hey, if you don't wanna believe that I'm friends with Ironwood--
Both Nubuck Guards: General Ironwood!
Qrow: Yeah, General Ironwood, then fine. But look, we have Weiss Schnee with us and we're trying to get her home safely.
Weiss looks down with reluctance upon hearing Qrow say that. The two guards look to each other before turning their attention back to the group.
Both Nubuck Guards: Approach!
Weiss shares a look with Blake Belladonna, who just shrugs. Weiss then walks up to the gate and the two guards step up and bend down to inspect her. After a moment, both guards stand straight back up.
Both Nubuck Guards: Very well!
Guard Nubuck 2: You may speak with our commanding officer!
Guard Nubuck 1: We will fetch her at once!
Considering her tone and the video title- I expect to at least go a minute without an issue.
“We then spend about two minutes and a half doing nothing as Cordo just says random shit as opposed to saying why the kids aren’t allowed in.”
A. We already know why they aren’t allowed in- They want into Atlas, Ironwood says no. This stated BEFOREHAND. The reason why Cordovon came out was to see Weiss.
Something you’d know if you paid attention before.
B. Cordovon isn’t saying random shit- it’s demonstrating her character which is important since this is the ONLY time we see her before she busts out the mech so we need to know why the character would do it NOW.
Seriously, this is pretty god damn important. Well at least it can’t get wor-
“Then Cordovon drops some odd racism-”
...
All that bitching about the Fanaus not being discriminated against...and how Atlas wasn’t built up enough...this line does BOTH...and gets bitched at.
Are you starting to see why I’m surprised RWBY improves at all?
“Ruby wanders outside to find Maria, who tells her to sit down and tell her about her eyes a bit. Maria spends most of her speech telling us about her backstory and barely touches on the eyes.”
A. Again, character building. Even worse here since the character building is about her father (the previous eye warrior), emphasises that her training and Semblance are more important and explains why the Silver eyed warriors aren’t so well known.
B. She also scolds Ruby for beating herself up over Jaune and Oscar (I skipped over her explaining that because it was worth less than what she says the episode is) which is pretty important to a character like Ruby.
C. About half the talk is about the eyes, she doesn’t just ‘barely touch on it’ since it sets the rules for the eyes (Ruby needs to think about what she wants to protect, only works in presence of Grimm). This isn’t nearly as worthless as you treat it.
“Why start the episode at the conclusion of an argument then just pick it back up immediately? Yang’s line at the beginning must be very accurate because it looks like they saw the kids walking up and closed the gates. It’s just a very clunky way to start the episode.”
... When was it said or shown that the argument had ended? Yang’s line ( Come on! You didn't even hear us out!) can be applied in both situations. While the guards line imply they know why they’re there, thus there must have been a talk,... Team JNPR is there, they can infer why they are there.
“This entire scene with Cordovon is trying so hard to be funny and fails every time. The jokes land about as well as Jaune does-”
Okay, you really shouldn’t make a bad joke when in the middle of complaining about bad jokes unless it’s an intentional example. I know it’s not because you never use it as an example. In fact, I find your joke worse because you do the cringey ‘GET IT?!’ punchline with a weird metal rift in the back so it just...fails at the punchline even though just playing Jaune’s audio in that scene would have actually worked.
“And the pauses for laughter are just filled with utter silence.”
... Did it never occur to you the punchline is the silence? As if everyone is so flabbergasted at Cordovon’s actions no one knows how to act? You really should show a joke instead of talking over it.
“I spend half my time in this scene screaming ‘just fucking go already!’“
That explains your utter failure regarding this scene.
“How did the guards not notice Weiss? Why did they need her to come closer to know it’s her?”
They’re trying to get inside and Weiss never spoke while an angry blonde is yelling at them. People don’t act like computers.
“How does Maria know it’s Cordo who runs this place?”
Maria: Oh, yes. I come through here about once every ten years to get my eyes checked up in Atlas. You bring outside cashews on one flight, and suddenly you're placed on the additional screening list for life!
Where you screaming over this line too?
“Why did she not inform everyone she was utter rivals with the commander they’re trying to work with?”
Ruby: (mouth stuffed) Well... (takes a gulp) We're trying to make our way to Atlas. We'll probably start with the military base.
She wasn’t expecting to deal with her.
“And it takes so long-”
11 seconds. From Maria talking Ruby down (being generous since she bitches about the group guessing what they are) to Maria confirming they’re enemies.
11 seconds. Standard joke procedure too.
This just makes you look impatient.
“Dragging it’s feet as it pretends having Maria yell is the same as having a joke-”
She says as the animation with Maria shows comical facial expressions and the audio implies a random incident with cashews, common joke technique.
This reminds me of something I learned about media and the relationship between creators and audience: it’s a lot like bartering. The creators offer you something you want and the audience pays with suspension of disbelief and patience. Some creators ask too much, we’re well aware of them (like M. Night.)
However, the audience or members of it can also demand too much. Like refusing to accept anything except for a certain thing done a specific way at a specific time or demand stuff not what the creator intends to sell. Criticism videos believe it or not have something similar, offering insight and more for good faith.
Twiinks sounds like she’s being pissy about what she is given in an unfair fashion and because of a lack of insight, I am not willing to give any good faith in turn.
“The only saving grace in this mind numbing mess is the one tiny joke that actually lands.”
... But it’s effectively the same joke as the one you chewed out. In fact, it had more dead air in it than the others. Also since you just showed you have the audio it REALLY doesn’t excuse your lack of examples so far.
“DO SOMETHING!”
They did, right before. You cut out the audio. And this is the same dead air you praised before. 
Do you just not understand how to dissect jokes?
“Why is Maria arguing with Cordovon?-”
They JUST said they hate each other and Cordovon just insulted her. No, I don’t care you said they need to work with each other- You’re demanding they sacrifice character for plot as everyone bitches they do too much plot.
“How does Cordo know they’re connecting to RNJR? She hadn’t seen them in the distance before-”
Dunno, they asked the same thing while acting like they tried to get in before?
“Presenting the only other good joke of the episode-”
THE SAME TYPE OF JOKE YOU CHEWED OUT BEFORE. LITERALLY THE SAME. SAME SETUP, SAME EXECUTION, SAME PUNCHLINE.
“Honestly based on this one joke, it’d be funner to see RNJR interact with Cordo instead of this slog-”
And based on the video so far, it wouldn’t do a damn thing to fix things.
“I just showed you one of the stupidest moments in RWBY history. Let’s break it down.’
Oh this should be rich.
“If this base and that relay tower are so important, why aren’t we looking at them?”
Because the actual focus is on Cordovon’s massive sense of patriotism and ego. In fact, when you look at what she said again-
You civilians are clearly incapable of comprehending the importance of our mission here in Argus. So allow me to say this slowly, with smaller words: This base, that relay tower, the very safety of Argus are all gifts from the glorious Kingdom of Atlas! (a backdrop showing the Atlesian flag waves behind her) And it is my duty to uphold them, as only I have the wit and tenacity for such a task.
The focus is all on Atlas and herself. The relay tower and base are her justifications.
Which is important as these drive her actions later on as she feels slighted by the team and insulted, leading her to act irrationally.
“We’re stuck watching Cordo because...no good reason.”
*taps the section above this*
We’re not even a third of the way into the video BTW.
“Second: this has nothing to do with anything in the conversation at hand.”
You know, other than the good guys questioning her and pressing her to relent when her ego says otherwise.
“Ruby asks Cordo to listen to their request, she says she already heard it, says she’ll explain herself then...just tells us her job.”
And it is my duty to uphold them, as only I have the wit and tenacity for such a task.
This is her explanation. Do they have to have her say “Because I know better than you!” in order for you to understand.
P.S. “Cordo says ‘I’m a General!” That’s IRONWOOD’S rank. Did you do so little research and/or cared so little that it never once occurred to you that made no sense and she was referred to as ‘Special Operative’?
“Protecting Argus isn’t brought up and has nothing to do with getting to Atlas!”
*holds up a piece of paper saying ‘EGO!’ in big bold letters.*
“And this tendency to have Cordo sputter out random bullshit to force unnecessary events persists throughout the conversation.��
And you completely missing the point to obnoxious and I dare say intentional degrees persists throughout everything I’ve seen. And unlike the show, where this all feeds into Cordovon’s character and shows human flaws, you just show immense ineptitude. 
You bitch that this scene took forever but I’ve seen time pass faster watching paint dry than this shit.
“Almost nothing she says can be interpreted as a valid response to what the characters say.”
That. Is. The. Point.
If it’s not well executed- TALK about it’s execution. You’ve gone on for five minutes and yet cutting it would in fact make your video more tolerable.
*shows an example.*
“Cutting out the filler lines about Ironwood being scared prompting her rant shows how none of what she says has anything to do with what the characters say to her.”
... 
The thing that triggered her rant... you cut out. All while trying to prove that Cordovon isn’t listening to them...when the point of the scene is to show she won’t listen to reason...
... You know what? I’m done here. This is so blatantly missing the point that you’re effectively useless.
Twiinks, actually PAY ATTENTION to the show. Your flaw here is that you don’t pay attention (a critic’s JOB) and you keep missing such details (and outright the PURPOSE OF A SCENE) that there’s no reason to listen to you.  You can’t offer insight because you fail to see anything beyond the surface and applying your criticisms would lead to the creators insulting their audience’s intelligence.
Give people like FMF and Vexed Viewer credit- They can at least understand the PURPOSE of a scene. 
You know, the same guys I preach as biased incompetent idiots.
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theartfuldodger26 · 4 years
Note
Bellamort for the ship meme
 Thank you @knightessofwalpurgis for the ask and apologies for taking me a month to answer - March has been... quite the experience.  But Bellamort exists to give us comfort, so let’s get crackin’!
who is more likely to hurt the other?
Voldemort can tear anyone apart with some well-chosen words (as we see Locket!Voldemort do to Ron), but he rarely uses those on Bella, because a. she rarely deserves to be humiliated like that, and b. he just wouldn’t do that to her. 
What’s more likely, is that he hurts her inadvertently, since he may fail to understand certain emotional needs that Bella most people have - a touch, a kind word after success, casual conversation over a cup of tea. In addition to that, Bella, who is obsessed with him and the position she holds in his eyes, tends to overreact to those “omissions”, getting convinced he ‘never truly valued her’ and he’s going to ‘kick her out any day now’. 
However, let us take a moment to note the day that Bella deeply hurt Voldemort: the night of her betrothal to Rodolphus, when Voldemort proposed marriage and Bella turned him down for reasons that, in retrospect, she finds ridiculous. 
So in a way, you could say that of the two, Voldemort is the brokenhearted one, even if it’s Bella who cries herself to sleep from time to time. 
who is emotionally stronger?
They’re both incredibly strong people. 
Voldemort pulled himself out of the gutter, basically raised himself and became one of the most powerful and learned wizards ever.
Bella survived fucking Azkaban, which is code for severe depression in HP-land, so all I can do is salute her and ask for her secrets. 
The answer is a little tricky, in the sense that Voldemort appears to be a psychopath, medically speaking, who are... resilient people emotionally, if you will. This means that an event that would have had a massive effect on a neurotypical person, say witnessing a murder or war, to him it’s very blunted or even irrelevant. This description is very vague and generalising, but it’s supported by a lot of evidence. In fact, psychopaths can’t really feel fear, because their amygdala is the size of a pea, so it’s not fair comparing his emotional strength to others. In fact, I’d add that since he’s not used to “negative emotions” like sadness and fear, if they happen, they’d be more devastating to him, because he’s never learnt to cope with them, like the rest of us do. 
Bella obviously has her own emotional/psychiatric problems, but I don’t feel comfortable making guesses, since I’m not a psychiatrist and she’s no textbook description of any personality disorder I’ve heard. However, she got an interestng upbringing, that trained her to be a person of importance. So I’d say that even after Azkaban and with whatever issues she has, she can still hold her own in a very difficult emotional situation. 
I realise I haven’t answered the question, because honestly Idk. Also, take with a grain of salt anything psychiatry-related I said, I’m no expert, merely done some research, which I’m regurgitating here. 
who is physically stronger?
Naturally, Bella. She trains a lot, does ballet (which is fucking hardcore, let me tell you), enjoys physical activities and martial arts. 
However, after Voldemort’s transformation, he’s got many of his physical attributes improved, like the cat-eyes that allow him to see in the dark and so on (been reading a lot of the Witcher series as of recent so there’s that too), so he’s deceptively strong and yes, eventually stronger than her.who is more likely to break a bone? 
Bella, 100% XD She’s in battle all the time, and when taking part in Voldemort’s magical research (which is their day-job, world domination is a weekend hobby in case you haven’t noticed) her motto is ‘safety third’. 
An interesting point tho. Psychopaths have no fear and low-impulse control if they don’t train themselves. Fear is useful, informs us of danger ahead, so I HC that young Tom/Voldemort broke almost every bone in his body at some point doing something really dangerous simply because he didnt realise it’s stupid - like, say, go down a fucking cliff with waves crushing at it. Now he’s learnt to control those impulses and polices himself when it comes to danger, so no more broken bones. who knows best what to say to upset the other? 
They’re both excellent at judging characters and have tongues that sting. Bella will rarely truly dare upset Voldemort, but she does love torturing him a little with  something silly and not-truly important, like refusing sex, or messing with his OCD by taking stuff from “their proper place”. She knows that there’s only few things that tick him off: his loss of power to an infant, death and the abandonment from his mother. And she’s not that sadistic to bring up that last one unless absolutely provoked. 
Voldemort can be a tease as well, but he’s too mature and dignified for such childish behaviour most of the time. who is most likely to apologise first after an argument?
 Bella apologises compulsively out of fear she’s lost him even for things that aren’t her fault, tho in her mind they might be. However, she’s stubborn too, so if it’s a petty argument she might not apologise at all. Shes a spoilt little rich girl after all ;)
Voldemort’s never apologised in his life and never shall say the words, but he will change his behaviour if he realises he’s been wrong, because it’s the rational thing to do- also Bella is supersexy when she’s angry, so he wants to fuck her and he needs to her to be accepting to that. who treats who’s wounds more often? 
Voldemort treats Bella’s wounds more often by default, since she’s the one out in the battlefield more often, and also can be clumsy and absentminded. And very rarely *trigger alert* she might self-harm. 
Voldemort not only gets hurt rarely, but he also views it demeaning to accept help, so he won’t even mention it if he’s hurt. Bella will find out by accident or because he’s in so much pain he can’t hide it anymore, and with scold him first, he’ll storm off, she’ll hunt him down, they’ll argue and finally she’ll heal his wounds (usually his back which hurts because he’s Tall^TM) and he’ll act like a literal cat during this, touch-starved as he is. who is in constant need of comfort? 
Right after Azkaban Bella is in need of a lot of care and comfort, understandably. Her physical and emotional problems are their reality for many months after her escape, but the physical ones mend themselves relatively quickly. She’s forever changed emotionally, again understandably, but I wouldn’t say she’s in *constant* need of comfort. In an AU where they win, she’s perfectly functional as his right hand woman and partner, with only the occasional problem. 
Voldemort needs to get through his tough, bald head that he deserves love and comfort like everyone else, but he’ll never get it, so, in the whole, it’s him I’d say. who gets more jealous? 
Interesting question, because fandom’s given so many answers relating to those characters, especially since Bella is married. Starting with this piece of solid information, I’d hazard a guess that Voldemort doesn’t care that much that Bella also sleeps with her husband from time to time - maybe it even turns him on and strokes his ego that she doesnt get all she needs from her legitimate, pureblooded husband. How he’d react if she slept with a random bloke... probably badly; tho I cant think of a situation where that’d happen. My Bella at least, doesnt sleep around. She might tease with her sex, but she’s a well-bred lady after all, who does what is expected of her. 
Voldemort, I HC, used to be a bit of a whoremonger in his youth; good looks, mummy issues and no emotional attachment are the ingredients for that particular potion. Also he might have also been overcompensating for the fact that he was unable to marry the only women he found worthy of him: his pureblooded classmates. So he’d show up with a different, gorgeous girl at parties, which drove child!Bella crazy with jealousy, since she was still out of the healthy sexual attraction part for him and never thought he’d notice her. She’d stalk him behind curtains and through keyholes, keep her ears on alert for when the adults talked about him etc. Poor thing was really tortured by it. But now that they’re adults and, well, in a relationship, she’s far too confident to think he’d seriously care for another woman; after all, half the time she’s not sure he truly cares about her, and she’s the person who’s been closest to him. 
One thing I forgot to mention about Voldemort’s jealousy, or lack thereof, is that Bella has certain emotional needs that he cannot serve, and I’m not talking about tenderness, because to some degree he can give her that, and it’s not the same with her husband anyway. No, I mean that Bella is a sexual sadist, who gets direct sexual pleasure by hurting people. Voldemort on the other hand, is not a masochist. Not that when they have rough sex/BDSM sex he’s never in a sub position, but he’d never just sit there to be whipped or something, it just doesn’t turn him on, and that’s totally fine. So they may invite a girl (and very rarely a boy) to join them, so that Bella can get it out of her system if the war is slow/over. Don’t ask where these people end up, just don’t hang your coat in the second floor closet is all I’m saying. who’s most likely to walk out on the other? 
Depends on the situation? 
Bella would NEVER abandon Voldemort in battle or for the Cause. In a Muggle setting though, if he pissed her off she’d totally walk out of the restaurant :P 
Voldemort would never walk out on Bella either, tho, would he? He’s devoted to her, plus he does feel like he owes her after Azkaban. 
The only concept I can imagine relevant to this is Voldemort saying something in his anger that he doesnt exactly mean tho it holds some truth in it, that hurts Bella so deeply, that she leaves, both out of spite but also because she thinks it’s the best for him. In fact, I have a very specific HC for this which takes place in the afterlife, after they;re both killed in the battle for Hogwarts, but there’s no time for that here. 
There’s also another thing, but it’d quite controversial. If you, like me, HC that Bella started training with Voldemort since she was a child, and entered a sexual and later romantic relationship with him while still underage, this means that she literally hasn’t been alone as an individual, ever. So there’s also the chance that she, after they’ve had a huge fight and he’s terrible with her, leaves so she can find who she is without him. *cue the tears*who will propose? 
Voldemort did propose, on the night of Bella’s formal betrothal. Very rude and uncourteous of him, yes, but it had to be the last minute for him to realise his feelings, because he only has one (1) brain cell that works part-time on the Emotions Department of his brain. She turned him down, because she was young, immature, didnt realise how deep her own feelings were (she believed what her mother told her, that ‘all girls fall for Riddle, it’s an infatuation, it will pass’), wanted the power, fame, money and public adoration that her position as the Black Heir brought, not to mention that she was loyal to her family and terrified since Andromeda had just eloped with Ted. So she broke his heart then, even if neither realised it. But they did continue with their affair, because that’s how it happened in the olden days if you had money and space. 
After the war is over, neither proposes. They talk about it as a given (Rodolphus has fucked off to study penguins in Antarctica) and only need to figure out the details: how public it will be, who’s invited, what titles the ceremony gives them and so on.  who has the most difficult parents?
Spoiler alert: Voldemort’s an orphan! 
Okay, so hypothetically speaking, had any of his parents survived and raised him one way or the other, they’d for sure be a handful. Tom Sr. is a posh bloke used to getting his own way and being considered special due to his status as a squire, so he’d be fucking pissed if he were introduced to a world where he’s not all the shit. Nonetheless, I’d hazard a guess that in the end he, Bella and her parents would get along well-enough; after all they’re the same sort of people. 
Merope, on the other hand, is a whole other story. In the most sensible AU, where she survives giving birth and raises her son but they’re still poor and she’s got trouble with magic due to the trauma of Tom Sr. leaving her, I think she wouldn’t like Bella at all actually. Because Bella is all she ever wanted to be: beautiful, wealthy, well-bred and shows it, and, most importantly, emotionally strong. So she pesters Tom all the time about how Bella is not ‘feminine enough’ in her behaviour, too outspoken, too bitchy, not for ‘her boy’. Tom/Voldemort gives exactly one shit about her opinion and moves on. 
In the canon universe, it’d be naive to say that Bella’s parents were into Tom, simply due to his blood status. In the longrun, however, I think they'd come to terms with it, and they remember how brilliant and ambitious he was in school, so when he becomes successful in life, whether in-universe as Voldemort, or Minister or whatever in an AU, they’re sort of okay with it. Idk if they hand over the Heir of Blacks title to Bella tho, their kids wouldn’t be pureblooded after all. who initiates hand-holding when they’re out in public? 
No one. Not allowed. Not happening. Ever. It’s not their thing, anyway. Voldemort will offer her his arm, like a gentleman, tho. :)
who hogs the blankets? 
Bella, especially after Azkaban. She sleeps with five blankets piled on top of her, has the fireplace going all year round and puts a warmth charm on the sheets. Voldemort doesn’t care. He experienced such cold temperatures in so little clothing as a child, that hot and cold make little impression on him; he even takes cold showers because it’s all the same to him. *sobs* who gets more sad? 
Bella. She overthinks everything. Did she disappoint him today? Yesterday? Tomorrow? Will she ever be the person she was before prison? Why does Cissy wince every time she sees her? Should she have had children after all? These and all sorts of thoughts race through her mind all the time, torturing her to no end. 
Interestingly enough, psychopaths in general dont get that sad, but Voldemort can be very... pensive. who is better at cheering the other up? 
Bella has a wicked sense of humor that only Voldemort seems to find hilarious (comments from other people include ‘disturbing’, ‘scary’ and ‘morbid’), and even though he’s rarely sad, he can be very very serious and in need to relax his body and mind. 
Still, Voldemort, the eternal student of human nature that he is, if he does notice that Bella is sad (which isn’t always because he’s... you know), knows exactly how to distract her, just like he can do with any other person. Just, in her case, it’s sincere. who’s the one that playfully slaps the other all the time after they make silly jokes?
No one ever hits anyone. Voldemort’s been beaten and whipped and flogged enough as a young boy that he wouldn’t do it to the only person he cares about in a non-sexy way, and Bella’s been raised to view such things as ‘Muggle animalistic violence’. She might bite him hard for fun, tho :Dwho is more streetwise?
This may come as a surprise to you because of my username, but Voldemort grew up on the streets in a  Dickensian world. He knows all the tricks in the book; in fact he created many of them. Bella begged him to take her along in his travels incognito, and not on these formal things she attends with her family, and he did, so she’s learnt a lot, but she’s very much a pampered princess. who is more wise?
Hmmm... Hard to say. They have their areas of wisdom and their areas of not-having-a-fucking-clue. Bella, for example, understands emotions better than Voldemort, because she actually experiences them. Jk, jk, but you get what I mean. She’s also more knowledgeable in certain magical things, that, for example, not all prophecies have to be fulfilled and that there’s so much magic that it’s pointless to wish to acquire *everything*; had Voldemort listened to her more often, the books would have been very different. 
Voldemort of course is much older and has more diverse life-experience. He’s also less impulsive in his older years than Bella; he can be the voice of rationality and reason if he’s not superobsessed with something; at which point Bella should remind him to take his meds, because they really do help with fixations. who’s the shyest? 
Neither, in the strict sense of the meaning. They both know what they want and they’re not afraid to demand it. In the end, it’s Voldemort who’ll never say what he truly needs and feels, though, speaking about their everyday life together, it’d be Bella who’d rather have more affection from him but is too shy to ask. But yeah, Voldemort, not because he’s shy per se, but rather in deep hurt and denial. who boasts about the other more? 
In the books it’s obvious that it’s Bella. However, Voldemort does this hilarious thing where he praises Bella in random conversation with other people without even noticing; like, he brings her up every ten seconds even if she’s barely relevant to the subject, so *shrugs* have your pick. who sits on who’s lap?
Nobody, because they’re both tall. Bella will straddle him even in a non sexual manner from time to time, and they often spend their evenings relaxing on the same sofa: Bella will put her legs on Voldemort’s lap and he strokes them absentmindedly (after all they’re superlong and soft and hot), and Voldemort, who refuses to nap in bed, might catch a nap with his head on her lap. The reason Bella doesn’t nap with her head on his lap is because he’s very thin and his femurs hurt her skull, when she’s got plenty of skirts and petticoats cushioning Voldemort. Finally, Bella often sleeps with her head on his chest, because his heart-beat, even tho abnormally slow, relaxes her panic attacks, after Azkaban that is. He will then stroke her hair compulsively - it’s a bit of a fixation of his.
Well,what a ride! Thanks again @knightessofwalpurgis for the ask, this was tremendous fun to write, especially after a very difficult month! And it did help put some of my thoughts on those evil babies in a row. Hope you found it entertaining! I get that those types of asks are usually made for monolectic answers, but yeah, explanations are better. If you made it to the end, dear reader, thank you very much for your time! 
23 notes · View notes
etlunainmorte · 4 years
Text
***
V left.
No, he didn't leave you like that, no.
It's just that, he and the other Devil Hunters had business to attend to. An old score to settle, just like what Nero said. Something that was related to someone named Mundus. Well, you didn't know the person ( or if he's a person, at all ) but, V said he’s dangerous. Of course, you wanted to beg him to let you come but, you knew he would never allow it. Heck, the Devil Hunters didn't even allow Nico to come. Lady was one thing but, you being powerless as of that moment? V simply refused.
So, with a promise that he'll keep you posted with everything that will happen to them, he went away with Dante, Nero, Trish, Lady, Griffon and Shadow. He also left Andromeda with you so you could have a source of power should things get awry on your side. Also to keep you vitalized while he's gone.
And just like that, V left.
And that was six years ago.
For at least a year and a half, V never failed to send you letters and postcards, telling you of those wonderful places he visited with the rest of the group in search of this Mundus. Places that he would visit again but, with you by his side. He told you, in these letters and postcards, how much he missed you, how much he longed to be by your side, to hold you in his arms and kiss you and make you his over and over again. He told you how much he loved you and you alone, above all else. You cherished these hand - written notes from the man you loved and kept them close. You prayed for the safety of their group, and for their safe return.
But, just like that, he stopped sending letters and postcards nearly five years ago, which has made all of you, including Nico ( who lost contact with them about the same time V stopped writing ), and Kyrie ( who has to take care of her and Nero's precious five year - old daughter and manage the orphanage all by herself ) awfully worried.
You tried sending Andromeda over and over again to see if they were doing fine but, the entity refused, telling you that it is her sworn duty to protect you and never leave your side. Nico tried many times to contact the team but, every single time she managed to hit a stable connection, something strange and unexplainable would interrupt, leaving her listening to just static. Kyrie helped you send letters to the addresses where V sent his, hoping that he would, by any chance, receive them.
But, to no avail.
Still, you didn't lose hope. You distracted yourself during the day, and you fervently prayed each night. You kept the smile on your face, and kept the hope alive in your heart.
Hoping that someday, he, and the rest of the group, would return, safe and sound.
Maybe it was that hope and inspiration that made you do simple but, life - changing things, which, somehow, made an impact and directly influenced your closest friends.
You may have lost the ability to dance but, still, it didn't stop you from establishing your very own little ballet school for beginners next to a church in Fortuna where you lived. Even the kind and gentle Sister Christina flew all the way from Germany to lend her support as an overseeing headmistress while you do the ballet instructing, yourself. You even have Nero and Kyrie's girl, Eva, as one of your little protégés ( who were mostly from poor families of Fortuna whose homes were destroyed by the Dreadnought six years ago ). You even got the surprise of your life, when, one day, the man who made Galatea showed up in the school's doorstep and revealed that he was, in fact, your parents' grandson. Through him, you found out that your precious parents didn't die, after all, after the Pale Ones abducted you and your sister. They were powerless against the cult, and they weren't able to do anything when the news of the Fortuna Castle's fire reached them. They thought you were dead, and has since moved on and had another child. He also revealed that they never forgot about you and your sister until death, and the old photograph they have of you was the thing that inspired him to make Galatea.
Cagliostro, who was, surprisingly, engaged to none other than Alicia, who has fully grown into a beautiful and mature woman, helped with the interior decorating. He has finally moved on from his heartbreak and found a new purpose in life - to be a much better artist and build a family of his own with his Hispanic fiancée.
Alicia, on the other hand, has figured out that her mother's strange behavior before her death was due to an unknown mental illness caused by a past trauma, and has since then dedicated the early years of her life as a licensed doctor to help people with the same case and helped a larger, more prominent medical team to develop a cure for this. 
Petya ( who was balding and happy ) and Natasha ( who still preferred being called Solagne ) never failed to drop by almost every month, bringing both French and Russian beverages with them, just to have little parties with you and the rest of your little group of loving friends. You even saw the haughty woman teaching music to your students during your break ( you only kept this to yourself but, you knew that the poor woman, who, according to Petya, was unfortunately unable to conceive, was longing for a cute little girl of her own ).
Nico, who still kept her lines open just in case one of the Devil Hunters called, improved a lot as an Artisan during those six years of her friend and partner, Nero's absence. Of course, just like you and Kyrie, she never lost hope that they would return someday, and since then, she has developed more powerful and much more revolutionary weapons for Nero to use. Guns, Devil Breakers, and even other, weird - looking gadgets that she called works of art. You even told her that she has surpassed her grandmother, Nell Goldstein, and more but, the woman wouldn't admit this. Said that she must first let Nero test all of her creations and let him admit that to her straight in the face.
Kyrie, just like you, remained ever vigilant. In fact, now that her daughter's growing up, she wanted nothing more than to have Nero finally meet his little girl. She helped you with the ballet school whenever she has time off the orphanage she and her husband built. She even cooked sumptuous meals for you and your little prima ballerina wannabes. And when the busy days were finally over, she, who you built a strong, friendly relationship with over those six years, would always go with you to the nearby church to pray for the return of your beloved ones.
A lot has happened during those years, things that helped you grow as a person.
And on the sixth year during the anniversary of the day you and V got together after so many trials and hardships, you decided to leave Fortuna for a bit to visit Red Grave, where Dante and V's house once stood.
After the Qliphoth incident that almost took the lives of hundreds of Red Grave's innocent citizens, the ruins of Sparda's residence has turned into a secret garden of some sort. For some reason, briars climbed on the broken walls and pillars, filling the whole place with vines, thorns, and roses. Yes. Roses of all kinds and colors. The mansion has turned into the largest rose garden you have ever seen.
You marveled at the sight and settled down, placing your bag on an old bench and sitting next to it. And as soon as your eyes landed on the beautiful sunset, you couldn't help but feel miserable. You and V loved watching the sunset from this very bench, and he has even told you that this has become his most favorite place in the world, now that this old house has turned into a massive garden of wild and fragrant roses.
And the moment you thought of V, you couldn't help but cry silent tears of longing.
Yes, you refused to let them see your weak side but, it didn't stop you from crying each night, from having dreams of him and you being together,...
... of you finally being lovingly held in his arms,...
"Where are you, V?" You miserably wept as your arms automatically went up to wipe your tears with the sleeves of your pink hoodie. "I missed you, so, so, so much,..."
You stayed there for what seemed like hours until you felt you could no longer cry, and when the moon has risen high above the starry sky, just like that one evening when you danced your first ever waltz with him, you decided to stand and retire for the day. Just then, some nagging thoughts plagued your mind,...
Did they fail in their mission to bring down Mundus? What if they, he, never return? What would happen now? What - ?
All of a sudden, you felt the temperature drop. Your hands went up to rub your arms due to the sudden cold that sent shivers up and down your back.
The wind blew, making the clouds roll by, concealing the moon and plunging the whole place in darkness.
That was when you saw,... something,... from a distance. At first, you thought your eyes were deceiving you but, alas, you were wrong.
If anything, they even widened at the sight that greeted you.
An unearthly slash in mid air, the blue and purple light radiating from it as if the atmosphere, itself, was ripped, and some people emerging from it.
"Why did you bring us here?" A familiar voice, which made you emotional all over again, questioned, his voice ringing in the air and disturbing everything within his immediate vicinity.
"Because V told me so!" Another answered.
"Whatever! I'll just go back to the shop and order pizza. Wanna come with me, ladies?"
"You're inviting us, Dante? Are you serious?!"
"Hey, what's wrong with that, huh, Lady?"
"Nothing. Except that your shop probably has six years worth of dust now. No, thanks!"
"How about you, Trish?"
"No, thanks. I want to go back to my own house and have a long bath."
"Eh, whatever. I'm not sharing!"
"Hey, look!"
Your eyesight almost became blurry with tears as the group finally noticed you standing from a distance. From there, you saw Dante ( who, easy to say, has become scruffier than ever before ), Nero ( who now looked a bit more like Dante due to his beard and shoulder - length hair ), Lady ( whose looks somehow stayed the same ), Trish ( who, just like the former, seemed to not have changed, at all ), Griffon ( still bald, and still lanky ), and Shadow ( now the same height as Lady and Trish and no longer a little girl but, a gorgeous young woman ).
But, what made you truly emotional was the figure standing behind them, slightly concealed.
Shoulder length snow white hair now long and waist length, emerald eyes that looked more gentle than ever before with little creases below them, that all - too familiar posture as he leaned on his metal cane, and that smile you missed so much,...
"Hey, uh, send my regards to Kyrie and Nico, will ya?" Dante told Nero as he nudged his nephew with an elbow. He, then, waved and winked at you as he gestured towards the silent man behind him.
"Let's go home." Lady said as she smiled at you.
"I'm with you." Trish replied as she waved at you, finally leaving the place together with Lady and Dante.
"Let's go back to Fortuna, you two." Nero told Griffon and Shadow. "I could sense Kyrie making apple pie right now."
"Talk to ya later, sweet pea!" Griffon yelled and waved at you as he went with Nero and Shadow back to the portal the Yamato has just made.
Which left only the two of you.
You had no idea what went on between the two of you during those awkward and agonizing moments or how long it took for you to finally go to him. You didn't even notice the clouds as they rolled away to let the moon shine down once more. And when he finally wrapped you in an embrace you longed so much for so long, you couldn't help but soak his white shirt with tears.
"Ssh, it's alright." He whispered to your ear as his hands rubbed your back to warm you. "I'm here now. I'm here."
"W - welcome back, V!" You greeted through your sobs, making the poet chuckle in amusement. "I have waited for so long! I never lost hope that you would return, but just now, I thought that - "
"It's alright, my love. Everything would be fine now. Our hunt for Mundus has brought us all to the Underworld. And he is gone. Finally gone. At last, we can finally live in peace."
You looked up at him and let him wipe your tears away with his thumbs. "Is that why we can't reach you? You went to the Underworld?"
"Yes. And I'm afraid to say that,... time works differently there from here. We've only been there for six days but,... when we resurfaced, it seems that,... six years,... has already passed."
"Are you okay? Were you hurt? Tell me, please! I will take care of you,..."
"There's no need. I will be the one who will take care of you. And I'm sorry,... for disappearing for too long,..."
"You don't have to say sorry. You fought bravely for us. Oh, dear God, I missed you so much! I missed you, so, so much!"
"And I missed you too, my love." V told you as he pulled you even closer to him if that's still possible. "You see, I even rushed here to meet you."
And you? You couldn't explain the happiness that was flooding your chest and making it burst.
"But, how did you know I will go here?"
"Cassandra told me."
"Oh, I see."
"Hmm,..."
You gave him a look of utter confusion as he let you go, chuckling as he noticed the pout on your lips.
"I have,... something for you." He said as he grabbed something from his bag. You eagerly waited as he searched, and when he finally handed you a pack of popcorn, you couldn't help but smile.
"You bought this, V?" You asked him as the smell of butter reached your nostrils.
"Yes. We haven't finished Endgame, have we?"
"Come to think of it, no, we haven't." You admitted.
V smiled as he reached for his bag once more, producing a stuffed tiger from it and giving it to you, reminding you of,...
"Is this,... did you win this at the carnival?"
V proudly hummed. "I have,... quite a skill with,... should we say,... sniping?"
Oh, God, he remembered! You happily thought. He remembered I have a really bad aim and couldn't win the stuffed tiger at the carnival.
"And that's not all." V said.
"Hmm?"
"I went fishing."
"Oh, you did?! What happened?"
"I caught a boot."
"YOU DIDN'T!"
V laughed, the sound of his low voice sending warmth all throughout your whole body. In fact, you have never felt so warm in your entire life. And when he handed you a single boot from his bag just for laughs, you fell in love with him all over again.
"I - I never thought this is possible, oh my!" You confessed through fits of laughter, however, at this point, the smile on V's face vanished. You noticed this and went silent as he took the boot from your hands and upended it, making a small velvet box the color of your eyes fall from it. Then, he went down on one knee and opened the box, revealing the most beautiful ring with an emerald attached to it.
Why,... did you not see this coming?
But, whatever the reason was, V was right there, right in front of you, offering you something more than just an emerald ring inside a boot he claimed he has fished.
And when he looked into your eyes, you saw something.
Truth.
Loyalty.
Love.
Passion.
And most importantly,...
I see,... you thought as your heart filled up with love and gladness. My future,... before me,...
"(Y/N) (L/N)," V declared. " ... will you marry me?"
***
🖤 I See My Future Before Me 🖤
***
XXXV
***
🖤 @la-vita , @micaelagua , @vergils-daughter , @beyond-the-mirror , @clevermentalitybeliever , @lessy86 , @ceruleanworld , @diabeticsugarush , @yepps , @shadowrosess , @gothghoulfrend , @heaven-on-a-landslide , and @krazy06 . 🖤
***
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ladyfogg · 4 years
Text
May I? - 3/?
May I? - 3/?
Fic Summary: Ensign Faith Diaz struggles to hide her mental illness from her fellow shipmates aboard the Enterprise until an intrigued Data goes out of his way to try to understand her behavior. At his insistence, Faith tries to figure out what she's truly passionate about and eventually seeks the professional help she needs. Fic Masterpost.
Fic Rating: NC-17
Pairing: Data/Female OC
Warnings: tw: depression, tw: anxiety, fluff, friends to lovers, eventual smut
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Data went back to his work.
Before that day he had not had a conversation with Faith and after two he found himself more puzzled than before. 
When Geordi had spoken of the ensign, he had mentioned her tardiness and overall dismissive demeanor over the last few weeks. Data could not comment on the tardiness but he had not found her to be dismissive unless questions were directed at her own well-being.
The fact that she used the Jefferies Tubes as a way to escape during her rotation was troubling. Handling stress in a fast-paced environment was essential to any position within Starfleet. If Faith could not handle the stress, how had she gotten as far as the Enterprise?
Data scanned Faith's Starfleet personnel file and found nothing of significance. She had adequate marks in the academy and had served on another vessel before the Enterprise. Her transfer orders included a glowing recommendation from her previous superior officer. 
Data concluded that something must have happened in the time between her last posting and her current one. If her behavior had changed once on the Enterprise, then it stood to reason the Enterprise was the issue. He had several hundred theories but not enough evidence for a clear hypothesis.
Switching his main focus, Data finished the project he had been working on and decided it was the best time to dream before the night ended. 
He climbed into bed, dimmed the lights, and closed his eyes. 
He was in a forest. A dense forest, thick with vegetation. It may have been daylight but he could not tell through the canopy created by the massive trees around him.
Data walked forward, listening to the crunching of the leaves under his shoes. It was the only sound he heard which was strange. Forests had animals did they not? He should be hearing birds at the very least. 
"Data."
His name was whispered and he turned in the direction it came but saw no one. He kept moving forward.
"Data."
This time the whisper came from a different direction. Yet still, he saw no one. At first. The harder he stared, the more the plants began to twist and change, winding themselves into a distinct shape. He took a step closer for a better look.
"Data!"
This time the voice with louder, right behind him. Data spun around and came face-to-face with Dr. Soong.
"Father?"
Dr. Soong smiled. "I'm surprised you found this place so quickly, son," he said. "I didn't even program it. It developed on its own when I added your dream function."
"What is it?"
Soong looked around, a mysterious glint in his eye. "The unknown, Data." He turned Data around and suddenly there was an archway of branches and vines, unintelligible whispers beckoning him forward. "The unknown."
Then he pushed Data through.
Data sat up. In the months since he began dreaming, he had cataloged over one-hundred and fifty dreams. In ninety-two percent of those dreams, he had found himself on the Enterprise while the remaining eight percent took place in various locations he had visited throughout his life.
This was the first dream where the location was fictitious. He was not sure how to interpret what he saw. Was Dr. Soong there or did his brain create his image as a "guide" of sorts? 
Data was required on the Bridge, which left little time for him to dwell on the matter. He would have to examine the dream another time, perhaps during his session with Counselor Troi the next day.
He reported to his station on time, as always. 
The planet they were surveying had no life forms and the previous day's excursion to the surface yielded nothing special. 
"What are your thoughts, Number One?" Captain Picard asked.
"It's like I said in my report," Riker responded. "There were a few structures but they were empty, seemingly abandoned years ago. No idea who made them but whoever did couldn't be found."
"Any reason why they were left?"
"I'm assuming it was due to the atmosphere. We were down there for a short time and even then it became difficult to breathe. We just barely managed to leave before storms rolled in."
Picard studied the screen thoughtfully before he sighed. "Best move on then. Data, set a course for the next planet in this system."
"Course set. We should arrive in fourteen hours and fifty-two minutes," Data announced.
"Thank you, Mr. Data. Engage."
And so they moved on.
Data's shift ended hours later and he retired to Engineering to continue his improvements with Geordi.
"Hey, Data, glad you're here," Geordi said when he arrived. "I need your help."
"Certainly. With what?"
"Here, let me show you."
Geordi led Data to the assistant engineer's console where a piece of machinery was physically out of place. It did not interfere with the console's function. Yet it was still troubling.
"Interesting…" Data said. "This reminds me of what Faith found yesterday. There is no reason for this unit to have been disassembled."
"No there isn't." Geordi raised his eyebrow. "Two pieces of Engineering machinery physically moved in less than twenty-four hours? I don't like those odds."
"It is extremely unlikely such occurrences are random."
"But what could cause such a thing?" Geordi asked. "These things are heavy. It would take at least three people to move them, maybe four. And that's if you detach it from the wall."
"The reasoning is also unclear," Data said. "I suggest running diagnostics on both units to ensure they have not been tampered with."
Geordi nodded in agreement. "I'll start on the one Faith was examining. By the way, thanks for taking care of her. Things could have gone south fast if you weren't there."
"It was no trouble," Data said. "Geordi, may I ask you a question about Faith?"
"To tell you the truth, Data, I don't know much about her."
"It is about her work. You said her performance has been lacking in the last few weeks?"
Geordi crossed his arms, leaning against the wall in the process. "More like months. When she first joined there wasn't an issue. I mean, she worked a little slow but still got the job done. Now she seems...I don't know, distracted. She's been late multiple times. Sometimes I ask her to do something and it takes hours, or she gets side-tracked and forgets. She's also had a bit of an attitude." He frowned. "Why? Was she rude to you?"
Data shook his head. "I did not find her rude. Although, I am curious about her behavior."
"What do you mean?"
"She injured herself but was reluctant to seek medical attention. Even when she was bleeding."
Geordi's dismay turned to concern. "That is troubling. Well, I know she's been ordered to rest per Dr. Crusher. Maybe she just needs a break. We haven't had shore leave in a while and who knows when she had a break on her last ship. I guess I never considered she may be overworked."
"It is possible. She was particularly unconcerned regarding her own safety. As her superior officer, I thought you should know."
Geordi stood up straight and adjusted his uniform. "Thanks, Data. I'll keep that in mind and will keep an eye on her when she gets back."
"That would be wise."
Satisfied the matter was settled, Data took a seat at the center terminal to begin to work. A few moments later Geordi joined him. 
"Data?"
"Yes, Geordi?"
"Why the sudden interest in Faith?"
Data stared at him, puzzled. "What do you mean?"
"You seem particularly concerned about her."
"Should I not be?"
"I'm not trying to discourage you. I think it's great. I guess I'm just curious."
"I am as well."
A sly smile spread across Geordi's face, though Data was not sure why. "Is that so?"
"Yes." Data studied him for a moment. "Judging by your tone you find this amusing."
"Maybe a little."
"May I ask why?"
"I've never known you to show such fast interest in a woman before."
"Ah. You think my interest is sexual in nature."
Geordi snorted with laughter. "Well, is it?"
"It is not. You of all people know I do not have any feelings, let alone sexual ones."
"It doesn't have to be sexual. You can just want companionship."
Data considered Geordi's point of view. "Currently I only wish to understand what Faith is going through. However, I have found our brief interactions pleasant enough, if not confusing."
"Confusing?"
"Yes. Her reactions to certain topics. For example, at times she will be conversing with no issue but when certain subjects come up she shuts down or grows defensive."
"That's not new to you, Data. You've been around plenty of people who don't want to share what's on their minds."
"I am aware of that, Geordi. But this is different."
"How?"
"I do not know. Hence the curiosity."
Geordi still had a slight smile on his face, almost as if he knew something Data did not. "As your friend, all I ask is that you be mindful of your questions. You may not feel, but Faith does. And she may not appreciate the extra attention." He picked up his tricorder. "I'm going to go check that console. Let me know if you need anything."
Data frowned as he watched Geordi walk away. Faith had approached him the previous evening and had even apologized for snapping at him. She did not seem bothered by his interest, only frustrated by the repeated question of her well-being. Data planned to avoid asking that particular question in the future, especially with Geordi's warning.
The more he learned about humans the more he grew confused. Yet, his resolve to be like them never wavered. If anything it strengthened as he hoped to fully understand them someday.
He and Geordi worked for several hours, exchanging thoughts about the latest mystery and reviewing the results of the diagnostics. In Geordi's initial sweep nothing seemed out of the ordinary. Still, the staff was told to keep an eye out for anything that seemed physically out of place. 
"I need a break," Geordi announced, rubbing his forehead. "My brain feels like mush and I still have some calibrations I have to run. Why don't we call it a day and meet up in the morning? Start fresh."
"Good idea. I need to feed Spot and I would like to work on my painting."
"Well, enjoy. I'll see you tomorrow."
Data took his leave, heading for his quarters. Spot greeted him when he arrived, meowing and curling around his legs. 
"I know it is time for your dinner," Data said, making his way to the replicator. 
After making sure Spot was fed, Data turned to his paint supplies. There was an abstract painting he had been working on for a number of weeks, but when he reached for the canvas, he decided he did not want to work on it. He wanted to start something new.
Data propped a fresh canvas in his easel and carefully selected several paints for his palette. His thoughts focused on the dream he had and he found himself painting the lush forest, dark and mysterious with beams of light attempting to peek through the canopy.
When he was finished, he stared at it for some time, reliving the dream vividly. There had been something in the underbrush before his father had appeared. It nagged at him, tugged on his mind until he propped up another fresh canvas.
Without hesitation, he dipped his brush in brown paint, mixing it with a small amount of white to lighten it some.
Then he began to paint.
Data was capable of computing multiple thoughts and actions at once, yet often limited them when he painted. He had been told creative endeavors required your full attention and he made it a point to follow said rule. 
Often he knew exactly what he wanted to paint and what techniques he needed to implore to achieve his goal. 
This time, it was different. This time, his hand seemed to have a mind of his own, gliding across the canvas in sure, deliberate strokes. It took Data a moment to register what he was actually painting.
Two light brown eyes stared back at him from the canvas. There was no face, no skin, just the eyes framed with long dark lashes. 
Faith's eyes.
Data lowered his brush, staring at what he had done and unsure of why he had done it. It was supposed to paint the vines and leaves, twisting together. Not this. He considered stopping but the urge to continue was strong. So he did not fight it. 
He added more white to the brown mixture until he was able to match her skin tone, filling in the blank spots on the canvas. 
Fresh brown paint was squeezed onto the palette, and this time Data added a drop of black, darkening it to match her hair. The eyebrows came next, thick and dark, with a small imperfection in the left one, no doubt leftover from a faded scar. 
Last was her hair, escaping its braid as it swirled around her face. It was not until her image was complete that he finally added the vines he had been attempting to recreate. Various shades of green wove together, twisting just as they appeared in his dream. They blended into her face, almost as if they made her.
Hours had passed by the time Data lowered his brush, staring in awe at the image he had managed to produce. It was nothing like he had ever painted before.
"Most curious."
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Text
Everything Awesome about COIE Hour 3
MANY THINGS OCCURRED!
This one is Long, guys.
Also a more accurate title would be Everything Awesome and some Less So about COIE Hour 3
But I wanted the posts to match, so.
So I never watched Birds of Prey because I never knew it EXISTED when it was on, but as a fan of the Birds of Prey team in general, and the characters Huntress and Oracle...not gonna lie, t’was sad to hear Helena desperately calling out to Barbara before they were destroyed by the anti-matter wave. So I give that cameo a thumbs up.
How is it only just NOW occurring to me that the Waverider (Wave Rider?) is serving the same function as the Monitor’s Satellite from the comics????
J’onn!!!! I’m so glad he’s here! Bearing news about the supporting cast of Supergirl! And the entirety of Earth-38!
So glad that they’re alive! And safe! And not dead! And that they are sure to remain that way, for the rest of the crossover! XD
And then J’ONN IS THE PARAGON OF HONOR! 
It’s what he deserves.
And then like four different subplots are set up in short order: They gotta to to Purgatory to get Oliver’s soul; they gotta get Ryan Choi; they gotta go to the cave where the Anti-Monitor was hanging out until fairly recently; Kara’s gotta be talked out of using the Book of Destiny.
It’s...a lot.
Also Vibe is back!
“Maybe you didn’t hear me under those voluminous mutton chops of yours--!”
Another nice Iris/Barry scene, BUT, for my money, it’s the second one, later in the episode, that really tugs at them there heartstrings.
All the Pariah stuff is as accurate as the Arrowverse could possibly MAKE a Pariah. Good, solid, good.
Then the British Fellows Ham it Up for a few minutes, before The Soul Searching group goes to Lian Yu, because of COURSE it’s Lian Yu, as if Oliver would allow his soul to languish anywhere else. 
Then we’re back in the Anti-Monitor’s room domain and COSMIC TREADMILL! AW YIISSSSSS
All of the good treadmill jokes have been made already so I’ll just move on.
This is very comic-y! The Anti-Monitor used Barry to power his Anti-Matter ray in the comic, and he ultimately destroyed it as well, dying in the process.
HERE, we discover that when Earth-90 Barry vanished last year, he was captured by the Anti-Monitor, and then CONDEMNED TO A FATE WORSE THAN DEATH; HE WAS TO RUN, FOREVER, ON A TREADMILL.
(...Pretty sure that joke was made on the after show, but I couldn’t help it. IT WAS RIGHT THERE.)
So they bust Earth-90 Barry out with the help of Jefferson!!!! 
I love that he’s got his line in there, the, ‘whose life is this’ line. Good, yes, good.
(Listen: there is no greater proof that the Arrowverse will go back to some version of the multiverse model, than Jefferson’s inclusion here.)
I’m getting a little ahead of myself...BACK TO THE OTHER SUBPLOTS!
Ryan Choi is great! I don’t keep up with Legends, but it’d be cool if he stuck around, since Ray is leaving.
ALSO GREAT???? Routh Supes’ explanation of the black shield. ‘Hope cuts through the darkness.’
(And the Superman theeeeeeeme I never tire of hearing it)
There’s some Kate and Kara stuff here but I wanna cover that later so FIRST...
The Oliver reunion on Lian Yu happened way too fast! But then, many things happened way too fast! But this one REALLY FELT WAY TOO FAST.
Like: He’s ready to kill us! But no? YAY, OLIVER IS COMING BACK! But No? Wait, he’s Spectre now????
But also...SPECTRE!!!!!!
Spectre is the deus ex machina of the Crisis comic, so it’s fitting that he’s just. A sudden thing that pops up out of LITERAL NOWHERE and is apparently vital.
So I guess Oliver’s final form ISN’T Team Dad, it’s Mysictal Green Hooded Guy.
(Man we should have seen this coming.)
(I like that Oliver is Spectre, just to be clear.)
Iris’ pep talk with Ryan was lovely.
(And then there’s the moment I mentioned earlier, where Barry’s like, ‘I might die’ and Iris is like, ‘I don’t want to go, I want to be with you.’)
(I will admit...that part got me a little.)
HEY FLASH FANS, HOW DO WE FEEL ABOUT THE FACT THAT LITERAL YEARS OF TEASING LED UP TO A BAIT AND SWITCH, HUH????
I honestly don’t know if I’m impressed or annoyed by this cop-out.
I will give them props for the inclusion of the original Flash show footage, that was very nice.
(And I say that as someone who has but a passing familiarity with the original TV show.)
The disintegration effect, as well as the Flash emblem being the only thing left, are really great direct homages to art from the comic.
I’m gonna talk more about this part LATER so let’s jump back toooooo....
Oh! The Barry and Jefferson scene!
It was so niiiiiice.
Very emotional, and a nice bonding moment, and this bit:
“I don’t think Henry and Alvin raised quitters, so we should rage against the dying of the light.”
FEEEEEEEEELIIINNNGSSSSS
Another Kate and Kara bit, which again, I wanna get into in a minute, BUT, before we do, I will say that: this buddy dynamic is very nice, but it takes the place of the Kara and Alex stuff from crossovers past, which I might have been okay with...if not for the severe LACK of Danvers Sisters content in the SG season proper.
Here’s hoping 5B gives us...something.
(Also I know it’s very much because Kate is like, the lead of one of the five main shows being crossed over so obviously they’re teaming up instead of Alex and Kara hanging out but I just. Love the Danvers Sisters, okay?)
(Related side note: Really glad this crossover isn’t so focused on romantic pairings! It’s a nice change of pace! I mean we’ve got Iris and Barry obviously, as well as Lois and Clark but I’m just recalling the Double Wedding nonsense of Earth-X and...*shudder*)
(This is an improvement, IMO.)
OKAY OKAY HARBINGER’S BACK HERE WE GOOOOOOOOO
MIND CONTROL! BETRAYAL! DEATH! THE DESTRUCTION OF THE ENTIRE MULTIVERSE!
And crashing on this Vanishing Point because technically we’re HooOOooOOomeless!
Aw man I was so sad to see Routh Supes go...and be replaced by LEX, ugh. 
(But it’s very Lex, so.)
And Kara’s desperate, ‘Kal, Kal! What do I do?’
:C
OKAY so I kinda wanna talk about the Kara stuff, the Barry stuff, and the Kate and Kara stuff.
This crossover does some interesting things, re-contextualizing the two ‘Big Deaths’ from Crisis. 
In the comic, both Kara and Barry die, and their deaths are kind of like...thesis statements, on their brand of heroism.
They’re willing to give up everything--even their very LIFE--to ensure the safety and survival of others.
And both are treated as kind of remarkable things, even among their peers, who are other, selfless superheroes.
Which is WHY...the Barry thing is kind of...a massive let down. 
In the after show, Marc Guggenheim talked about how they could have their cake, and eat it too, because Barry was ready to give up his life, but was denied the opportunity.
And...I get that logic, but man, they spent all of season 6A dragging out that ol Barry-Dies-Angst.
And last season too! The WHOLE SEASON LONG PLOT with Nora was centered on Barry’s disappearance during Crisis and thus, her growing up without him and now...
That’s all just out the door? Because a different Barry decided to take his place? AN ELEVENTH HOUR LOOPHOLE?
It’s so audacious...that’s why I’m also kind of impressed, as well as annoyed.
And they don’t quite do the same thing with Kara, since they haven’t so much as TEASED anything resembling her comic death--I kind of assumed they might with the Book of Destiny stuff, but she didn’t even open the thing.
(And ultimately this is GOOD because if they’d done something similar to Barry--a last minute bait and switch--HOO BOY. There would have been...WORDS. OF STERN DISAPPOINTMENT.)
Instead, the crossover frames living as the more heroic option, because these heroes are Paragons, and thus are needed for some...other purpose, put in motion by the Monitor.
So if they die, they’re actually DOOMING the multiverse.
As mentioned! It’s kind of an interesting inversion, and until we know being a Paragon fully entails--it is difficult to say if it’s a positive or negative change!
(Still love that Kara and J’onn are Paragons, tho, cause they’re my Favs.)
OKAY so that’s the Kara and the Barry stuff. NOW, for the Kate and Kara stuff!
IT’S ALL ABOUT THE KRYPTONITE, MY DUDES.
Yeah, you thought we were DONE talking about Supergirl-specific plot lines...BUT THINK AGAIN!
LET’S TALK ABOUT HOOOOOWWWWW Kate was gonna use that Kryptonite...BUT DECIDED NOT TO, AND THEN WILLINGLY HANDED IT OVER TO KARA because she knew that 1.) SHE WOULDN’T NEED IT and 2.) Kara deserved to have the deadly poison THAT IS ONLY POISONOUS TO HER AND HER SINGLE SURVIVING BLOOD RELATIVE to decide how to dispose of it.
AND THEN...Kara tells Kate to keep it, and I thought, for one HORRIFYING MOMENT, that Kara would insist that she might someday NEED it, should Kara ever go rogue, thus VINDICATING every stupid pro-Kryptonite debate ever BUT...
NO! Instead she’s like, ‘I know you won’t use it!’
And folks.
Folks.
If nothing else. If nothing else. Please. PLEASE. Let this fun week of death and destruction be a learning moment for Kara, that she both HAS and DESERVES better friends, than a woman who casually subjected her to Kryptonite to further her own ends.
PLEASE, SHOW, PLEASE. 
Anyway! That’s hour three! And now we have to wait an ENTIRE MONTH to see how this plays out! XD
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thedyingmoon · 5 years
Text
💚 See Me Now 💚
***
XXIII. Girl
***
It's getting late, but she still had to do it.
Everybody else had gone back inside to rest, while she was left training outside. She was defeated once more in hand - to - hand combat, so she had no other choice but to train even harder than the rest of them.
It was almost dinnertime, and she was beginning to starve.
"Hello." a deep male voice uttered just behind her. She turned around and saw a tall man with blonde hair and thick eyebrows. He was wearing a Scouting Legion uniform.
He was smiling at her, his beautiful ocean blue eyes twinkling.
"Are you Ms. (L/N)?" he said gently.
She nodded. "Yes, Sir. How can I help you?" she said, uncertain why a man from the Scouting Legion was speaking to her.
The man showed her some documents. He gave them to her and and spoke, "Were you the one who wrote this?"
She gulped. Did Commander Shadis plan on shaming me?
"Y-yes, Sir." she answered truthfully.
"Do you always help Commander Shadis with his paperwork?"
"Y-yes, but! It's just for punishment."
"Punishment?"
The girl began blushing uncontrollably. "For always messing up during training."
He's still smiling. "Oh, I see."
The man took his eyes off of hers for a moment and glanced around him. "It's getting late and the others had already retired for the day. Why are you still outside?"
Her face even got redder. "I-i messed up in hand - to - hand combat, so I had to stay behind for,..."
The smile on his face vanished and was replaced with a very understanding and sympathetic look. "Aren't you tired? You've been working hard since morning."
"I'm fine! I'm fine,... I'm sorry." she stuttered, embarrassed by this enigmatic man.
His smile went back. "You sure have a lot of energy. Well, then, don't hesitate to take a break when you get tired."
"Yes, Sir. I will."
The man turned away from her, but before going away, he turned his head slightly towards her.
"I'm just wondering,..." he simply whispered. "Are you interested in joining the Legion?"
The Legion? Is he recruiting me or something? she thought. This must be my lucky day! I could be with Petra again. I could now repay him. I could,...
I couldn't.
"I'm not sure, Sir."
"Why not?"
"I'm weak. I'm sure you wouldn't want someone like me in the Legion. Unless you want someone as Titan bait, then,..."
She slightly bowed her head, her frown evident on her face.
But, his smile didn't disappear. Nor the strange look in those deep blue eyes that are as unpredictable as the sea.
"It's not for Titan bait, dear." he said. "You have potential, and we could help you improve to be a good Soldier who would greatly contribute to humanity. But, then again, it's your choice. If you don't want to, that's fine. If you do decide to join us, I'll personally welcome you."
And with that, he finally walked away from her. "I'll be waiting for you, Ms. (L/N)."
******
Erwin, Hange and Levi were all waiting outside the room where (F/N) was currently being treated.
It has been a very grueling day.
The bad guys, as the citizens put it, were all captured. The ones who were still alive, anyway. The injured were brought to the Hospital, which was being guarded by the Military Police. The man who started it all was also arrested by the Police and was currently being interrogated by Nile Dawk, himself. Soon, they will extract the whole truth behind their motives.
In the meantime, the government had decided to postpone the Expedition until every single Scouting Legion Soldier who was involved during the incident were all questioned and cleared of criminal charges. Already half of his Soldiers were interviewed by the Police, which left the veterans, Levi, Hange, himself, and (F/N), who couldn't be questioned as of the moment due to her condition.
He was still thinking of that very first day he met her on the Training grounds, and how he convinced Shadis to let her join the Legion despite his protests. He saw great potential in her, and for that, she could not be compared to others.
For that and other selfish things, he needed her.
Although, in the end, it was her decision to join the Legion, herself, they were warned, ordered, by Shadis not to let her associate with Levi Ackerman during her training.
And now, Erwin Smith was still accepting the fact that he failed to protect her, and that Shadis' words came true; that Levi will destroy her. But, then, he didn't regret every single decision he made for her, from that point where he decided to assign her as the Captain's assistant and guardian to not helping Levi rescue her hours ago. He had to have Levi destroy her both physically and mentally.
All for the sake of their strongest Soldier.
Erwin buried his face on his palms, his eyes and heart aching, his mind shouting guilty words at him, his soul scratching every fiber of his being. He couldn't stop thinking about her.
And now, her life is hanging on a thread.
She was, indeed, utterly destroyed, not only by Levi, but by him, as well.
The doctor finally came out of the room. All three of them stood, eagerly awaiting for some kind of good news regarding her safety.
But then, the doctor wasn't smiling.
"We've done the best that we could." the doctor announced. "We managed to treat all her wounds, but that doesn't guarantee her survival. She was badly beaten."
"How is she?" Hange worriedly uttered.
"She's still unconscious."
"But, she can make it, right?" she's desperately reawakening hope.
The doctor shrugged his head. "I don't know. It's all up to her now. I'm sorry."
Levi's eyes widened in anger. He impatiently shoved the doctor away and entered the room. What he saw there made him even more guilty of everything he did to her.
He hurt her, but she still chose to save him. And for that, she's now lying unconscious, the massive size of the bed engulfing her tiny and fragile form. Her whole body, save for her face, was almost swatted in bandages that he could not recognize her.
Hange entered right after him, and when she saw (F/N)'s unconscious form, she failed to suppress the tears that came pouring down her face. She knew Erwin's plan, but she made no move, whatsoever, to stop him. It hurts, but she had to make a choice between Levi and her, and sadly, the world doesn't need someone like her. They need Levi.
"Levi, I,..." she began.
"You knew." he said in a low voice, his head focused on (F/N)'s beaten body. "And you didn't do anything,..."
"Levi, you still have to have your wounds treated - "
"I DON'T CARE ABOUT MY FUCKING WOUNDS!" he shouted. "I WANT YOU TO BRING HER BACK!"
"How could you still say those words when you, yourself, never cared for her?" Erwin said.
The doctor ran away, trying to avoid the tension between the veterans.
Erwin stared determinedly at Levi, ignoring the angry voices in his head.
You did this! You did this!
Levi angrily pushed Hange away and strode towards Erwin. He grabbed the taller man's collar, wanting desperately to kill him, but couldn't, for he knew deep inside that he was also responsible for what happened to her.
"This is all your doing! You knew she would do that, and you did nothing! HOW CAN YOU DO THIS TO HER? SHE TRUSTED YOU!"
"You want to know everything?" Erwin calmly said. He removed Levi's hands off his collar and turned away. "Come with me."
"ERWIN!" Levi called. He had no choice but to follow the man.
A few minutes later, they arrived at a room just beside Levi's office. It was (F/N)'s room. Erwin opened the door and entered. Levi followed.
The room was slightly cluttered, with papers here and there. Her bed, however, was neatly made, like she haven't slept on it for a long time. There was an empty cup on top of the small table beside her bed. The atmosphere felt lonely and depressing to Levi.
Erwin went towards the table near the window, picked up a piece of paper from a huge stack and handed it to Levi. The Captain looked at it and was horrified. At the bottom part of the document, he saw his name and signature. But its contents were unlike the ones a Captain such as him would write. It's really terrible. It was the work of a child. Or an awfully drunk man.
But, then, the signature,...
How can this be?
"(F/N) hid all the documents you filled up here and rewrote the whole thing herself after she's done assisting you for the day." Erwin began. "Everything you have written, from the day you've drastically changed up until two days ago, never reached my office. She did all the work to cover up for your mistakes."
"Is this some kind of a sick joke? Erwin, you know I would never do these things! I,..."
Erwin just looked at him. He was unflinching as a rock. That means,...
"Oh, my God, I did these?"
"So, you did not remember it, after all?" Erwin said. "Aside from your apparent weakness during those past few weeks, it seemed that not only your strength was affected, but your mind, as well. If you don't believe me, you can just see for yourself all of (F/N)'s work in my office."
Levi looked at Erwin, feeling so dumb after realizing what he did. He glanced at the table and saw a notebook on top of it just beside the rejected papers he filled up. He picked it up, opened it, and instantly realized that it was (F/N)'s diary.
With growing pain in his heart, he turned the pages, until he came to a certain part where her schedule was written:
500 - Wake - up, bath, breakfast
600 - Training with Mikasa and Jean
1100 - Assist Captain Levi
1200 - Captain Levi's lunch
1800 - Captain Levi's dinner
2000 - Dismissal
"Everyday since then, she has devoted herself completely to you." Erwin told him. "She did all those things for your sake because she wanted to help us in getting your strength back. She trained to be strong just like the others so she could protect you from those men. She struggled to meet your standards so that you could consider her not only as a Soldier but as a person who could stand on the same ground as you. She barely had time for herself. She barely even eat. But, after all her efforts, still you turned her away."
Levi turned to another page and saw some words that hurt his heart terribly
Captain Levi prefers black tea among other beverages. No sugar, honey or cream. Just plain black tea. He doesn't like coffee and he detests sweets. I was able to prepare him a cup, but it seems that he still didn't like it. Did I do something wrong again? If only I could ask him.
Levi felt his heart stopped beating for a mere second as he recalled how he spilled tea on (F/N). It's true that he hates sweets, but he doesn't detest them entirely. And he would only drink coffee if it's prepared by Petra.
God, why did I do those things to her?
"I'll be honest with you, Levi." Erwin tiredly uttered, collapsing on the bed.
Levi was a bit shocked, for the Commander had never showed weakness before. But, now, he looked a total wreck.
"We, I mean Hange and I, knew that there was no cure. But, she found a way; that if something were to trigger you emotionally, you would reawaken, and be healed."
"So, you let her go there and depended the rest entirely on her?" Levi disgustedly muttered. "Erwin, you just made another shitty gamble! What if I didn't reawaken?"
"But, you did. It was worth the risk."
"What about (F/N)? I know you love her, don't play innocent in front of me!"
Erwin stood up and grabbed Levi's already ripped and bloody shirt. "My emotions are none of your concern. What's important is that we have you back. Levi, we chose you over her! We chose humanity's strongest over a useless weakling!"
"I've seen her fight and she's not a weakling! She deserved more than I do." Levi harshly removed Erwin's hands off him. The scene awfully reminded him of that particularly rainy day, six years ago. "You told me I don't care about her. But, it seems that you've also played a part in all of her struggles. You considered her a weakling and useless. Now, stop lying to me and tell me why you really want her in the Legion!"
Erwin seemed to calm down at Levi's words despite the acid they carried. However, he didn't plan on indulging the man with the information just yet.
"What I plan for her in the Legion is none of your business." the Commander told him coldly. "We've done this before and I've made this clear, Levi. If I have to trample upon thousands of lives just to get us closer to the truth, I'd gladly do it. Humanity needs you, not someone who couldn't even stand a chance against the Titans."
Erwin turned to leave, but not without saying something first.
"I will not hesitate to destroy anyone, even if it is someone as innocent as (F/N). I don't care if people call me cold and calculating. You can call me heartless all you want. I will not let anything get in the way of humanity's freedom from the Titans. Nothing could stop me from obtaining the truth of this world."
He slightly turned to look back at Levi and said to him, "I expect you to participate in the upcoming Expedition."
And with that, he finally turned to leave, closing the door and leaving Levi behind. He expected Levi to follow him, just like that day.
In the Captain's eyes, Erwin's heart had gone too cold to care for anyone for the sake of the truth.
Erwin thought that about himself, as well.
Except that he, like Levi, was slowly dying inside, his heart aching for the girl's sacrifice.
His throat felt really dry.
His eyes felt awfully tired.
Who could blame him? He hasn't slept for three days straight thinking about her.
***
~ @levi4mikasa , @yepps , @clovemcpandas , @shewolfofficial , @unhappysap , @super-peace-fangirl , @fangurl-ontgeside , @shortbty14 , and @emilyackerman78 . 💚
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