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birdy-bat-writes · 4 years

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Damian Wayne - Civilian crime solver

Request: Could you do headcanons or a scenario about Damian with a friend or s/o that is really into mysteries and goes around investigating cases even though they're really in over their head? Bonus points for shenanigans. Thank you!

Of course, amazing Anon! Great suggestion! And hey, why do friends or lovers when we can do both?? ;) I hope you enjoy this!

A/N: Um… My Headcanons are basically just fanfictions with sentences that don’t flow into paragraphs. I split it into 2 parts. I Really liked writing this one though. I love Damian. This one came out kinda angsty though, sorry about that. But it has a sweet ending.

Part 2 here

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- You met Damian when you both were in the sixth grade. He was quite the indignant 11-year-old. Unfortunately for you, this fellow was your lab partner for the year.

- You noticed his distaste for most people, but he didn’t have it with you. You couldn’t have known at the time, but the reason for that was that you were the only person in the room Damian saw as someone of equal intellect. It was the way you were organized and level-headed. You were independent and self-sufficient.

- Truth be told, the only major difference between your mindsets was that you weren’t as cocky.

- Made sense though, since your mother was an environmental toxicologist. Your home was pretty full of science equipment since you could remember. You were always curious as a child, and of course your proud mother encouraged it and taught you bit-by-bit how to use the tools. You idolized her and your father, who passed away when you were younger.

- Over the course of your partnership with Damian, you grew to tolerate each other, and then even enjoy each other’s company. By the time You were both 12, you had a pretty solid friendship.

- You discovered this when he invited you over to his house for his birthday and his family nearly choked, had a stroke, or checked if you were a robot. He had to explain to you that he didn’t bring friends over very often.

- “I made an exception for you because you are far closer to me than anyone else and I enjoy your company.”

- You guys hang out all the time now and talk about personal stuff and just joke about things. It makes you really happy when Damian laughs. He often found himself thinking about how much more often he’s been doing it since he met you.

- “Hey, what do you want to be when you grow up, Dames?”

- “Well, I’d like to follow in my father’s footsteps.” You assumed that meant running Wayne Enterprises. You were half right.

- “I want to be a detective.”

- “Really?”

- “Yeah, like my dad was.”

- “He’d be proud of you.”

- You had a love for forensics and special permission from your chemistry teacher to use the advanced chem lab after school. You were her TA after all, and Damian used that time to sit with you and chat while you worked.

- “Y/N, what are you analyzing?”

- “Um… It’s a mud sample.”

- “From?

- “The Gotham botanical gardens.”

- “Why?” Why are you analyzing dirt from Poison Ivy’s crime scene from last night?

- “Promise you won’t freak out?” He nodded. “I heard on the news that Poison Ivy was using monster plants to terrorize people. And they looked kind of like yellow trumpet vines you find a in the Gotham gardens. I was just checking the dirt for any chemicals that could have altered the plant growth.”

- Damian was stunned and speechless. Something he experienced rarely, if ever. “Y/N, messing with this stuff is dangerous. maybe you should let Batman and the GCPD handle this.”

- “Come on, Dami. Please don’t say that. I want to do this; I want to help people. If I figure this out first, I can tell the GCPD.”

- “I’m just worried for your safety.” He couldn’t deny that your work was brilliant, but he couldn’t let you put yourself in harm’s way either.

- “I’ll be safe, I promise.”

- He ultimately told you it was alright with him if you were careful. What he meant by that was that he was going to spy on you and keep you away from any and everything that was dangerous.

- Robin would follow you to your house from the shadows to make sure you got home safe and Damian would check in with you on your files. As your determination to solve cases increased, his desire to ask you why increased as well.

- “I just think it’s fun, Damian.” Wow you were a bad liar.

- “There’s more to it.”

- “What?”

- “Why are you actually doing this?”

- “Because I want to.” You were sterner this time. Damian noticed and decided to drop it for now. He offered to walk you home like he usually did but you declined.

- That night, you decided to investigate a lead you didn’t tell Damian about. It led you an abandoned building in old Gotham. You were scanning the second floor for anything out of the ordinary until you heard a voice approaching from the corner.

- You ran into the nearest room and hid. The voices were getting closer. “Falcone wants this job done tonight. Don’t f*** up.” You were terrified.

- Suddenly, your mouth was covered by a green gloved hand. You wanted to yell but you heard him shush you. You turned quietly to meet eyes with a domino mask. It was Robin. You didn’t have enough time to process everything that happened but at the end of it all you ended up on the sidewalk next to an ambulance and police cars.

- Deciding you had enough for one day, you headed home.

- The next day at school you seemed quiet and so did Damian. At the end, you walked over to Damian to ask if he wanted to hang out.

- “Not at the lab.”

- “Okay… we can watch a movie if you want.”

- “Alright.”

- “Cool. I’ll just go get my stuff.” He saw you walking in the direction of the lab and something sparked in him. He stopped you.

- “I’ll get it.”

- “What? I can get it. It’s fine.”

- “Just stay here, Y/N.” He was a bit too curt for your liking.

- “Don’t tell me what to do.”

- “Just listen to me for once.”

- “Why are you being like this?!”

- It turned into a yelling match. Damian’s emotions got the better of him and it ended with a “You could have died last night!”

- Tip of the hat to him *clap* *clap*. That’s how you found out he was Robin.

- It made sense really. You shared a heartfelt conversation about how he trusted you but he didn’t want you getting hurt. He knew what it was like out there and he couldn’t stand the thought of anything happening to you.

- You promised to keep his secret and he made a compromise with you; you could help him with forensics for his cases with Batman as long as you never went out into the field.

- Then you went an watched the movie you wanted to.

- “Hey Dames, I need to tell you something.” He turned his head to you. “You had asked earlier why I was so obsessed with the cases… my dad died investigating Falcone’s drug cartel. I guess got a bit too into it… I just thought you deserved to know.” You shared a look of sympathy and for the first time in your friendship, he hugged you. It held for a while, but it wasn’t awkward, just comforting, as if you both said that you were there for each other.

- Skip to the point where your working with him and Batman was normal. Well… as normal as it could get. You and Damian blew the Batcave circuit breaker. Twice.

- You would always get results before Bruce managed to figure out how. Tim liked you specifically because you could make Bruce look very confused.

- You and Damian would pass notes in class in code about new information from cases. It started to make people gossip about you two. It didn’t help that you both always stayed back late together and showed up to class alone, before anyone else.

- It began to scare people because Damian doesn’t bother to spend time with other humans but with you, he like?? Willingly?? Does it??

- You would work late nights with the boys and keep track of how much sleep they each were getting. If anyone fell too short, you sent them up to bed. It actually backfired on you once because you were very sleep-deprived and didn’t want to admit it, so Jason picked you up and dragged you to your room in the manor while Tim and Dick smiled cheekily. “Oh, how the turntables.” ;D

- Damian would sleep when you forced him, but he would still have his days. He believed he was above sleeping???

- This boy refuses to admit he’s tired. Even when he looks like a jittery racoon. So, you bring him hot chocolate in the mornings, (courtesy of Alfred) with a hint of a lot of caffeine (courtesy of Tim).

- Ever since you started spending so much time at the manor, you got much closer with Damian and his brothers. You felt a sense of family and care there.

- Your favorite nights were the ones where your mom would let you sleep over and you would stay late in the cave working with Damian. The serenity of the cave and the faint glow of the computers always made it feel like some alternate plane of existence.

- “Alright, Sherlock, you’ve been obsessed with this case for three days now. Let the computers do their work and take a nap.”

- “Dami, I’m too ‘thinky’ to sleep.”

- “’Thinky’?” you nodded and giggled at your superior use of vocabulary. “Come with me. I want to show you something.”

- You detected a hint of mischief in his voice and followed him up the cave staircase to the top of a ledge. He pulled a rope ladder out from behind the ledge and gestured for you to climb it.

- You glanced at him once before hoisting yourself up and climbing onto the rocky surface. You looked up and the sight took your breath away. The ledge was a flat floor of the cave that overlooked the waterfall from the inside. If you looked down, you could see the dancing currents on the lower levels of the cave. The air was misty and cool, and you honestly had no idea that there was a view like this anywhere in the manor.

- “You like it?”

- “Its so beautiful.” You said, your voice full of awe. Damian sat down on the floor, against the cave wall and patted the ground next to him. He wanted to say something. Just regular makings of conversation, like the ones you always had. This time, for the first time, he felt like he didn’t know what to say to you, so opted to look at you.

- The way the water reflected light on the cave walls made patterns of hazy light. The glow hit your skin and made your eyes sparkle. For the first time since he had met you, Damian saw you in a completely new way. He didn’t understand it, but he wasn’t opposed to it either.

- You broke the silence with, “You know, ever since I met you, and your family, I’ve never been happier.”

- You looked back at him. Something about the way he looked at you made you feel butterflies and fireworks all at once.

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warmau · 4 years

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{Special} College!AU Hendery

major: general biology

minor: infectious diseases

clubs: part of chinese culture club with sicheng + tutors sometimes but he gets off-track easily, wont admit it out loud but attends the magic the gathering gettogethers often as well, extraterrestrial enthusiasts club

sports: he originally joined xiaojun for one of his ballet classes as a joke, but ended up really liking it and now he shows up regularly and the professor thinks hendery’s upbeat, chattery attitude is so “charming” and xiaojun just,,,,,,rolls his eyes like ma’am you don’t even know,,,,,,,,

hendery is a force to be reckoned with - not necessarily in a bad way, but if you aren't a high-strung energetic type then

it can be hard to keep up

but the truth is, hendery is just like that because he’s a natural born people-pleaser

making others happy by making himself the goofiest he can be actually brings him a lot of joy

and he finds no shame in carrying the ‘class clown’ title from high school into his college years

he takes everything with ease, kun and xiaojun frequently ask if he’s being an idiot on purpose, and hendery just thinks its hilarious

yangyang and yukhei usually just egg on his jokes and stunts

yukhei likes to partake in them too

but yangyang is a little too smart

and wont take on any bet thrown at him the way these two will

and believe me, hendery’s got a record for it

in his freshman year, he applied to a bunch of frats - only to see if he could past initiations

getting pied in the face, lugging mattresses across the quad, standing up in the middle of class to profess his love to the professor

all of those tests were easy-peasy ,,,,,, and even though he’d passed them all ,,,,,,, in the end he didn't even join any of the frats

just thanked them for the “fun times” while the other recruits eyed him like he was insane

basically, he will do anything asked of him - especially if itll make for what he refers to as “good comedy”

if it really is “good comedy” you have to ask the spectators - and the people who end up being pulled into it - which more than often are either his friends or his classmates

so why general bio? and even weirder - why infectious diseases?

well as silly as hendery is, the silliness doesn't translate well into art or literature

like he tried his hand at poetry and pottery and other humanities

and lets just say ,,,,,,,,,,, it didn't work out

(he’s banned from the literature department)

science on the other hand,,,,,,,,

leaves much more space for silliness than hendery could have ever imagined

although its a lot of math and rigorous testing - hendery enjoys the adventurous part of science

he likes opening textbooks with colorful, kind of icky, diagrams

have you ever seen the inside of a cell? hendery thinks it looks like a clown maze at the amusement park - he loves it!!!

biology is one of the most hands-on sciences

and when people in his intro course were gagging at the idea of disecting a frog

hendery was just like “leave it to me - even though i was only half listening to the professors instructions!”

and diseases are even more interesting to him

because their genetic makeup is so funny, and their scientific names are even funnier!!!!!!!

“hey xiaojun, you know what i learned about today? leptospirosis. LEPTOSPIROSIS - doesn't it sound kinda like leprechaun!?!?!? i almost died laughing in lab!!!!!”

xiaojun: how is that even funny

kun: just let the child amuse himself

sometimes people mistake his enthusiasm about his major as meaning he isn't actually interested in it as a career

just taking part in it like some inside joke

but that's far from the truth

hendery is actually a pretty proficient scientist when the topic intrigues him

and although hes loud and a little disruptive in actual lab

there are rare occurrences when you can find him quietly working on his results and papers

there’s nothing funny about making a mistake in science, hendery knows and understands that

and even though he doesn't tell many people it - he does have some interest in taking steps toward entering the medical field

but hes kept it a secret - because no one would take him seriously anyway so there isn't any point in talking about it

when hes not in class, making the professor groan and the students snicker behind their laptops

he’s usually at someone elses dorm rather than his own

he’s almost always given an invite to a party, people are always calling him over to join them for late night drinking or karaoke

because if hendery is there - it is guaranteed to be a good time

on multiple occasions, ten and kun have had to come to his aid

there was one time where hendery kind of totally overdid it and ten even had to facetime hendery’s mom

she had given him an earful over the phone, thanking ten when she was finally done

and just as hendery thought he could scurry off, ten had told him he had his own lecture in store

hendery’s busy social life isnt a problem for xiaojun though, who he shares his dorm with

hendery’s gone most of the time so xiaojun dumps all his stuff in the closet and is happy to use the extra space for ballet practice

,,,,,,,,,,until hendery stumbles in at 4pm on a sunday and is like “hey!” before passing out directly on the floor

look me in the eyes and try and tell me hendery doesn't have corny meme stickers on his laptop. you cant.

although hes wild, and a hand full, his friends do really care about him

and when they’re all together

kun and ten admit that hendery is extremely good at cheering them up

xiaojun and yangyang do have to agree that life would be boring without him

and sicheng and yukhei, who never interfere with his lifestyle choices, reveal that hendery is a good friend

when anyone needs something

hendery will jump through hoops to get it

and he’s usually up for taking the blame if something goes wrong

that’s exactly how you end up meeting hendery

back in highschool you two hadn’t ever interacted, mostly due to the fact that you had transferred in during senior year

and you were a bit on the reserved side

with an interest in quiet library's and flying under the radar till graduation

while hendery was much more of a social butterfly

with people begging for him to follow back on instagram or make it to their weekend parties

you had both existed in virtually different worlds - until you found yourself in a really, really, really bad situation

it had been the literal last day of highschool

you were one hundred and one percent sure you had absolutely everything out of your locker, most importantly - your college acceptance letter

which was one of your proudest achievements, but also the only document with your student id notification which you’d need for registrations and the acceptance orientation

giddy as you walked out toward the bus, you rummaged around in your bag one last time

just so you could pull it out and read it all over again when -

you must have looked absolutely insane on the curbside, dumping everything out of your bag and digging around like a rabid animal

but it was gone - your folder with your letter, and not to mention your graduation certificate, GONE

you scoop everything back up and run back toward the school - you’re happy that you see a figure coming out of the front door

because that means you can still get inside

the boy brushes past you and the door shuts behind him - you pull at the bar and then he turns around, taking his headphones off

“oh, the schools closed. the janitor let me out but-”

your eyes are so wide and full of terror when you turn that hendery can’t even finish his sentence

you look like you’ve seen a ghost and he asks you whats wrong

“m-m-my- a-a-accept-acc- my-m-”

hendery doesn’t understand any of your muttering - so he does what he always does when his friends go into a stupor

he grabs you by the shoulders and gives you a good shake

you’re about to yell at him, but it actually lets you collect yourself for a moment

you turn and start feverishly banging on the door

“what are you doing?!”

“you said something about a janitor - if he hears us he’ll let me back inside and i can get my letter!”

hendery sort of stares at you, for the first time he’s in the position where he looks at someone and thinks - seriously? are you insane, all this over some letter?

when usually he’s on the receiving end of such judgement

but either way, he tells you to stop - the janitor isn’t going to hear some loud bangs and come running

you guys are going to have to do something bigger to his attention

before you know it, hendery’s dropped his bag and circles around the school

you follow him, not sure of what else to do - but when he’d said you had to do something bigger, it sounded like he had a plan

and hendery does have a plan - he stops outside the large glass window right under the gym

“ok, you - go back to the front entrance. when the janitor steps out, run in through the door and get your letter.”

“how are you going to get him to step out?!”

hendery looks around, pushing aside some of the shrubs and picking up a rock

you look at it, then him, and then the window

“you're not going to-”

he feigns offense, “destroy school property? of course not! now go - run to the front.”

you only half believe him, but you need that letter more than anything, so you circle back to where you started

it all happens in a blurry flash - you hear something shatter, you hear the door push open a minute or two later, you dash passed and down the empty halls

you’re so focused on getting your letter and getting the hell out of there that you don’t notice the voices outside or the big crack in the window as you’re running back

with your letter in hand, you sort of disappear before you can get caught up in whatever hendery’s plan was

and hope that he at least got away too

the next time you see him is at freshman orientation

you’re surprised that this school was his choice and under any other circumstance you’d brush it away

but you’re itching to know

so when you approach him and ask, how did he help you out on that faithful day (does he even remember it?)

hendery grins, wide and bright

“of course ii remember it! the janitor caught me and ii had to do community service or pay a fine. spent half my time cleaning up garbage in a park because of you!”

the words aren't malicious - actually he doesnt even look mad when you apologize for such a big inconvenience

instead he just tells you it was worth it - it took him sometime, but he figured that the letter you’d been going on about like crazy had to be something ultra important

you hadn’t even known this dude - and yet, he was talking to you like he had just done a favor for an old friend

since then, you’d grown closer to him

and now you both where in your junior years - you’d become a part of his friend group and he had become someone so much more than just a stranger

looking back at it - you’d never thought you and him would get along on such a deep level

but you did, and you suspected it had most to do with the fact that no matter how goofy or dumb his antics were

hendery had never and would never intend to hurt anyone

in fact, he’d put himself in harms way first

and his loyalty was something lost on most people your age - you admired it

sometimes, you were even jealous of the pure-natured almost naïve way he went about life

so now you’re sitting in his dorm, xiaojun is at his desk watching ballet recitles and you’re shifting through hendery’s messy pile of books and papers

“isn’t your lab due tomorrow - how did you manage to lose it?”

he rummages through his backpack and whines

“i didn't loooose it- i bet kun stole it!”

“kun isn’t taking a bio class, you just probably tossed it out like always.”

“hey!”

you turn to see hendery’s signature pout, deep dark eyes big and hurt

“you’re making me sound so dumb!”

“hendery,,,,,,,sometimes - you are.”

he sticks his tongue out and you continue to look through the pile, your hands stop when they reach the thin, silver book that is your highschool yearbook

your copy is at home, you wonder for a second why hendery’s is here

“did you find it?!”

hendery bounds over and you cover it up quickly - giving him a playful shove away

“no, now keep looking - or else you’re going to have to re-do all fifteen pages tonight!”

he whines, but returns to his corner of the room. your fingers tap the stack of paper and you feel a weird wave of nostalgia hit you

it’s broken up as the door swings open to the dorm and sicheng walks calmly through it

he passes you a handful of crumpled papers

“found hendery’s lab report in our trashcan.”

you turn to glare at hendery who puts his hands up and grins

“oops?”

after you leave hendery to retype his lab, you find yourself thinking about that yearbook again

you’ve been hendery’s friend for almost three years now - but in highschool you guys hadn’t even spoken

you’ve never thought about it before, but it’s almost shameful that you lost all those years

because hendery is a good friend, a lifelong friend

you and him could have had so many more memories together if instead of meeting on the last day in an almost comical twist of events

he could have been in your literature class, or you could have been his tutor and then you two could have just bonded like you did in college and become friends, even maybe-

lovers

you stop walking as the word flashes through your mind

“no, that’s just,,,,,,,silly.”

you toss the momentary curiosity to the side - if anything, ever since you started college you’d only had one crush on somebody

a crush so secret, you hadn’t even dared to write it down in your journal - let alone tell anyone

and you planned on keeping it that way

afterall, you had a degree to get and you were so - so close.

a couple of weeks later you find yourself handing in the last paper before a small spring break, you plan on going home when you get a call

hendery’s voice full of excitement

“whens your train home?”

he asks, not bothering with a greeting - he’s probably the only person you know who likes to jump right into any conversation

“tomorrow, around three.”

“cool - so that means you can party tonight!”

you roll your eyes - that's another thing you’ve gotten into since being hendery’s friends, parties

although they still aren’t your favorite pastime - you have to admit, they can be entertaining

and you and ten have sort of agreed that as the responsible ones, being at the party would at least mean hendery (and on most occasions yukhei) would have a safe way to get home

“maybe, depends on the party.”

hendery’s laugh is a sound so familiar - and so nice you sometimes think you can hear it forever and not grow sick and tired of it at all

“actually this time it’s at johnny’s place in the city! he finally got out of the dorms since he’s in graduate school now - but ten convinced him somehow.”

you know johnny suh, who doesn’t, a graduate student in film studies and super close friend of ten’s

back when you and hendery were still freshmen, johnny was the one known on campus for being a little too wild

but now, hendery seems to have stolen the title

“well if it’s at his place I guess it’ll be pretty small, im just happy we aren’t going back to that frat.”

hendery makes a disgusted sound

“nah! that place was boring and remember how i almost punched that guy out for-”

“yes, i remember. what time should i be heading over?”

“ill pick you up at ten!”

you hang up and smile, something in your chest warms a little - a feeling you haven’t felt before

sometimes he can be so crazy, and then sometimes he really is a gentleman

the thought doesnt occur to you as being unique in anyway, and you try hard not to fester on that weird feeling in your chest

hendery is late - because of course he is - but you’re used to it and give him just a little bit of a scold as you two walk toward the metero

other than that the conversation is the same, plans, friends, potential people you’ll run into at the party, etc.

you and hendery stand close to each other on the subway, his hand comes up to hold your shoulder when the cart jerks or someone is pushing past you to get in

you poke the hole in his tshirt hem and mutter that he should at least ask xiaojun to sew it up

when you both get to the party, johnny is already half a wine bottle in by the flush on his face and the way ten is chasing after him

sicheng and kun are there, mingling among themselves and waving you guys over

hendery says he’s going to join them and you’re about to step toward them to

when you feel someone tap your shoulder

you turn, and something in your body feels like it snaps

yukhei smiles at you and starts asking where hendery is - but you are looking over his shoulder at the person behind him

lee taeyong

the computer science major who had also studied alongside johnny at your college when you were a freshman

you had seen him when you had just started your first couple of weeks and that entire year had been like you were enchanted

he was an otherwise reserved, soft-spoken person

but his reputation was the unattainable heartbreaker - who would turn down confessions politely but with little to no regard

he was beautiful when you last saw him, and he was beautiful now - all this time later

whats he doing here?

you’d been to johnny’s place before and had never seen him around, other graduate students sure but not taeyong

“ah! by the way - this is taeyong. he graduated but i met him because he’s here to-”

you bow a little and rush through the crowd toward the solitary confinement of the bathroom

to your luck, two voice shout from inside that its occupied so you escape to the stairs of the building - going up a couple of floors until the sound of the party is nothing but a drawl

you don’t know why, but seeing him hurts

it’s because he was the first person you ever really loved

you don’t get it too - your communications with him had been limited to a two time greeting in the computer lab late during finals week

you had seen him around, you’d once even followed him embarrassingly through the library

you knew nothing about him but his major and his beauty

so what made your heart fall so hard never really made sense

the way you’d felt was so confusing and therefore it made you so ashamed

you had thought about telling your friends to understand - why, but never did

and so you curl up a little and think that tonight its only a good idea for you to go

“ah! there you are - hey, are you crying?”

hendery’s voice breaks you out from your thoughts and you unravel a little to huff at him

“im not crying, im just -”

he sits down and puts a hand on your knee

“did some asshole try something, if you need me to get them let me know - you know how good ii am at rock throwing!”

the little inside joke makes you crack a smile and you shake your head

“its not that, i was just feeling a little cramped in there.”

he pulls to cans of beer from his jean pockets and sets them down

“that’s fine, we can party up here! just the two of us!”

you’d resist - but something about his cheer wins you over

you spend what feels like hours up there, hendery running back and forth between the flights to bring back more beer and snacks

you dont know how many cans are littered around you until your head falls against his shoulder

and if you were sober, you’d feel him tense up

“hey hendery - wanna hear a secret?”

you giggle and hendery turns a little, your eyes are glittering and your speech is just a little bit crocked

“sure, but ii think this should be your last can!”

he slips the beer from your hand - and you make a badly attempted reach for it that just lands your palm against his thigh

again, his body goes into alert, but you just keep going

“i have a crush on someone.”

you hiccup and hendery swallows - his heartbeat is a loud thudding in his ears

“o-oh yeah? on who?”

“wwwwwwwellllllll,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,”

you sit up and hendery looks at you again - you brace his shoulders

“taeyong.”

you hiccup and grin

“lee taeyong.”

with that you let go of hendery’s shoulders which have dropped anyway

you tilt your head back and hendery lurches forward to grab you when you start tipping over

your eyes close and you feel your head hit something soft - probably the front of hendery’s shirt

you whisper the next sentence, but hendery never hears it

“used to - i used to have a crush on him but now i think i,,,,,”

the words don't come out but it doesnt matter, hendery touches your cheek with his palm and sighs

you’re out cold for now

and he says something you never hear too

“damn, and here i was. stupid enough to think you were going to say my name instead.”

the incident doesnt come back to you - not even when you’ve had an advil and are drinking coffee in the morning as you pack for home

your group chat is talking about yukhei doing something weird and your other texts are normal

so you just assume ,,,,,,,, nothing happened

and that's what it feels like

until you’re back to classes after spring break and

“soooooooooooo, a little birdie told me a secret over the break!”

you turn your head and look up to see yukhei

he plops himself down in the chair across from you and nearly sends the whole table shaking

you grab your laptop and coffee before it knocks over

“you and your giant knees need to be more careful.”

he waves it off and leans forward

“so, lee taeyong.”

your fingers, which had been diligently typing up your homework stop short

yukhei claps his hands and points a finger gun at you

“so you do like him! well, good news for you i got his number at the party and you guys are both all about work and school and-”

you shut your laptop and the noise makes yukhei’s voice shake for a second

“who told you about taeyong.”

yukhei scratches his head and leans back

“well i probably shouldn’t tell you but hendery. he heard taeyong and i got introduced by johnny so he thought i could help you-”

hendery?

something twists

hendery, did i tell hendery? when?

you stare into your lap and gasp

the party, i got drunk and i told him at the party and he -

“w-who else knows?”

yukhei waves his hand, trying to calm you down

“just the usual, but we all support it - im pretty sure taeyong is single and -”

he told, everyone?

a multitude of thoughts runs through your mind, but the biggest question is why

even if you were a little out of it, you know you wouldn't have just told hendery to go about spreading your secret

you’re sure, even if its fuzzy, that if you confided in him - you would have made it somehow clear that no one else should know

and hendery was close enough to you, that if there was a chance you hadnt done that, he’d instinctively know

which only leaves one real explanation - hendery isnt your friend, he spilled your secret to humiliate you

all these years - all this time - was he just waiting for it? for the right moment to make you some kind of laughingstock?

you stand up and gather your things, you ignore yukhei’s confusion and when he tries to stop you - you just push past him

it must be for payback, he must have been actually so pissed about that stupid stunt he pulled for me in highschool. after all, he probably got a stain on his record because of it and so he plotted to make me look like a fool one day right - right!

your logical brain starts moving, making up more and more scenarios

he probably thought - oh why do I have to take the blame for some stupid stranger! but didn't know what else to do so he befriended me and made him trust me

your brain runs like a crazed engine, but something in your chest fights against it

suddenly you think about it again

trust, hendery is the one person i fully trust. there isn't any reason for him to hurt me

a glimmer of that hopefulness washes right away when you get a text from an unknown number

you stare at it and re-read it

the anger that had powered you before surges up through you again

‘hi, this is lee taeyong. your friend told me how you feel and while im grateful for the compliment - ii don't want to let you pine for no reason. im currently not looking for a relationship, but lets be friends if the chance arises.’

what kind of stupid text is that - i don't want to date you! im not some lovestruck idiot! why are you treating me like one? why did hendery make me out to be one? hendery - hendery - im never going to fucking forgive you

and you don't - you block the number, you delete the contact, you know his schedule and you make it a point to avoid him at all costs

even his friends, who you thought were your friends once, aren't immune from the cold shoulder

and so when kun ends up sitting beside you on the bus - you’re so damn headstrong about it all that you get off at the next stop

part of you knows this is childish, and you’re supposed to be the big adult - the responsible one

like you’ve always been

but

but hendery isn't even making an effort to reach out

actually, you think you’d probably haven given in by know if he’d called you or tried to reach you

he knows your schedule too so you thought hed track you down and at least ask whats going on

but he hasnt

which all you take is the fact that your point has been proven

this insane theory about how he’d befriended you for almost three years was just to find someway to get back at you in the end

and he’d done it! and he was satisfied!

and it hurt

that's what it was

painful

after a while it was less and less about your stupid little crush on a senior, and more and more about the fact that you had lost you friend

a person who you thought would have your back forever

a person who the universe didn't intend for you to even be near, to ever be close to

the opposite end of the spectrum and yet he had defied that all

and had left an impact on you that you thought would be with you forever

the blind kindness, the forgiving heart, the prone to accidents and silliness and just horrible decision making in general all for the sake of someone elses happiness

all of that had made you cherish him

at this point - you found yourself sitting up in bed - staring at the screen of your phone that used to ping nonstop with his texts

and realize you missed your friend

and worse of all

you missed your friend who you were starting to fall in love with

lee taeyong had been this ideal for you, beautiful and studios, the perfect match

you had daydreamed about bringing him home to your family, how he’d probably be so sweet and gentle

but he was this stand-in, he was a dream that you thought you had

when in reality

your dream didn't consist of the graceful, hardworking, flawless man

it was

as you closed your eyes and really thought about it

it was always hendery

clumsy, laidback, overflowing with flaws man that at the center of it all was crafted with a heart of gold

but was he? would someone like that really sell you out?

your answer comes just as the end of your junior is approaching, you’re so mentally exhausted from school and your own feelings

that you don't have the time to focus on anything anymore but getting to your dorm and getting to bed

you accidentally drop one of the textbooks in your hand and when you reach down to get it - another hand extends for it too

you look up and

oh god no, not right now!

“ah -- hello.”

taeyong gives you polite smile and you barely have enough energy to reply with your own small nod

“how are you?”

please don't do this to me, i don't want to make conversation with you

“fine, and you?”

“good, work hard on your finals!”

you say you will and are happy that he ended it so quickly when,

“also, i am still sorry i couldn't accept your feelings.”

the heavy blanket of tiredness suddenly feels like its aflame on your back

really, did you really have to say that?

some kind of newfound energy spikes up in you and you turn to him

“I know you're my senior, but ii need to say something to you.”

he titls his head

“i don't like you, i had a brief crush on you in freshman year but ii got over it. and no im not saying that to save face, ive already felt enough embarrassment about all this. ontop of that I don't have time to crush on you - im in love with hendery and yeah, i can say that now because it doesnt even matter.”

“YOU’RE IN LOVE WITH HENDERY?!?!?!?”

“YUKHEI?”

you pivot around so fast, this time all your books go flying

you hadn’t even noticed him in the haze of weakness and yet - there he is, right behind taeyong

like an unbound puppy he rushes up to you and grabs your hands

“I THOUGHT YOU WERE INTO TAEYONG!”

your instinct is first to tell him to not be so damn loud

but you’ve lost what pride you thought you had and yell right back at him

“NO IM NOT AND YES - I LOVE HENDERY - BUT HIS STUPID ASS HASNT EVEN TRIED TO TALK TO ME AND I HATE HIM, I LOVE HIM BUT I REALLY HATE HIM RIGHT NOW TOO!”

yukhei jumps up and down

you’re not sure he registered the last part of your sentence because something gleams in his eyes that you aren't sure you like

taeyong shakes his head, quietly picking your things up

“ah, these kids really,,,,,,,,”

you pace up and down your dorm room like mad scientist

why did I do that? why did ii yell that out to the whole campus to hear - what is wrong with me?!?

you check your phone, but there isn’t a call or a text

yukhei has probably blabbed about it to hendery right now - what is going on why is no one telling me what is going on

you pick your phone up and scroll through the blocked contacts, you unblock everyone

and you do get a flurry of text - but none of them are from hendery

ugh, im so stupid - not only did he trick me into being his friend but now he knows how ii feel about him and is probably laughing about it

you stop and put your hands on your face and groan

fuck you hendery, no one in the world could make me feel this crazy but you

some more time passes and you’re now sure that you’ve just embarrassed yourself further

you spotted kun on the way to your last final yesterday and had almost waved at him like everything was all peachy

when it wasnt

and now as you were packing your things up to leave the lecture hall you almost jump from your skin when someone shouts your name

you look down and beside a shocked professor is

hendery?!?!?

“DID YOU THINK YOU WERE THE ONLY ONE WHO WOULD GET TO SCREAM ABOUT THEIR FEELINGS?”

oh my god - what is this kid about to do

you watch in shock as the professor taps hendery’s shoulder, but is ultimately ignored

“YOU MADE ME GET ALL DEPRESSED FOR NO REASON - I REALLY THOUGHT YOU WERENT EVER GOING TO SPEAK TO ME AGAIN AND THEN YOU JUST GO ABOUT YELLING THAT YOU LOVE ME? THATS NOT FAIR!”

you panic a little because the professor brings out his cellphone and hendery’s gotten in trouble for you before

you kinda think that's going to happen now too

but,,,,,,but you want to hear what he has to say too

“ITS NOT FAIR SO IM GONNA DO THE SAME THING - GET READY BECAUSE IM GONNA LET EVERYONE KNOW THAT I - WON KUNHANG - AM IN LOVE WITH YOU TOO!”

just as he finishes, you see the professor put down his phone

your head spins, but you let your feelings be pushed to the side as you maddash toward hendery

the professor probably dialed for on-campus security, and whats worse is this idiot just said his full name! well - let me at least help him out like he helped me!

you grab hendery as soon as you get near him

looking him in the eyes and every part of you is screaming a million and one things

to yell back at him, to get angry, to tell him to fuck off, to tell him you love him to his face, to ask if hes insane for real

but you just

kiss him

the professor jerks back and you can feel hendery’s knees almost give out

when you pull back you turn to the provfessor and smile

“we’re doing impromptu theater, was it any good?”

your bluff actually manages to work - the security gives you two a stern talking to and tells you to tell the theater club to knock it off with these “public disturbances”

you squeeze henderys hand behind your back when he tries to insist it wasn't a performance, it was his true confession

until you’re finally free of the guard and you let him go

“you could say that kiss was fake all you want, but i know it was real.”

is the first thing he has the AUDACITY to say to you

and although you want to blow up

you want to ask him about how this all happened in the first place

you cant bring yourself to be mad

you just look at him and then sigh

“how’d it end up being you,,,,,,”

he shrugs his shoulders and suddenly his voice gets a little quieter

“i ask myself the same thing,,,,,,”

you furrow your eyebrows and huff

“excuse me? are you saying im not likable-”

he puts his hands up and shakes his head

“no, im just saying you’re right - we definitely aren’t the people we thought we’d fall for. ii mean c’mon, when you said taeyong that night - i just knew you know.”

“knew what?”

“that he was the right choice for you. im just a stupid kid compared to him, there’s nothing about me for you to fall in love with.”

he’s not lying, you can tell by the way his tone is soft and there's a real self-hatered woven into it

your anger about whatever slips away because this is a side of hendery you knew existed but that you also knew he fought hard to not show

“hendery, you are stupid. you’re stupid because you legitimately think you’re inadequate of attention and love. do you know why you’re popular - its not because you’re so funny.”

he stands up straight and the serious look on his face is handsome, but it makes something sharp wedge in your heart

“its because you are one hundred percent selfless. and not for some kind of advantage, but because you really want to help.”

your shoulders drop a little

“i envy you, your hearts pure and your intentions are always good. living life that way is so beautiful, that's the first thing about you that i feel in love with.”

a silent pause follows after

the rawness of the situation dawns on the two of you in a way you didn't think would ever be possible

you've told a lot of things to hendery, you subconsciously spilled one of your biggest secrets to him

so it only makes sense that when it came down to this moment you’d really, honestly tell him everything

you feel as maybe you've made it a little awkward, lecturing him in a moment where you both have confessed when suddenly

you feel his hand take yours

that signature smile back on his face

“oh yeah? what else did you fall in love with?”

half of you wants to snap, the other half - the one that wins bursts out into laughter

the list is long, but in the moment you just answer

“the fact that you’re soooo good at throwing rocks!”

“hey, it is a charm!”

he leans in and his lips settle on yours, they’re warm and soft and you circle your hands around his neck

you had thought about what kissing him would feel like before - once just for fun, but recently for other reasons

you didn't expect him to be so reserved, letting his lips sort of softly part only when you push a little closer to him

its a good second kiss, though you don't think anything will ever beat your first lol

and nothing beats the story too - which makes it to the front of the student journal

(both you and hendery get a talking to from theater club who was NOT happy about you lying - but ultimately did like that you ended up together)

you are in perpetual embarrassment shock for a while

but hendery eats it up! - if anyone as much as mentions it he’‘s like

“let me tell you the beautiful tale of our lov-”

and you have to clamp your hand over his mouth like lol sorry don't mind him

even in the early stages of dating, you can tell that hendery is that kind of significant other

just like he is with friendships, he gives himself wholeheartedly to the other person

like yes, you just started dating and you know most people don't start off shouting that they love each other

but you guys are different and although you've somehow become a little shy of using the word

hendery is in it - you are his love, his lovely, his lovable, his capital L love of his goddamn life and if he doesnt get to say it a million times well then

he just isn't trying hard enough

and although his affection is overflowing, and his love language is obviously expression

it is not smothering at all because in reality, you feel exactly as much as he does

its just that you show it off differently, but those who are your friends know

because hendery used to be able to do anything and everything

hence his notoriousness for being down for any dare

but your love language? protection

“no hendery, you are not going to drink hot sauce out of the bottle because yukhei said you couldn't do it.”

“no hendery, you are not going to dress up like the shrek just because ten bought the costume on amazon”

“no hendery, you are not going to climb that fence - hendery get down!”

you aren't trying to limit his free spirit - youre just worried

when you were just friends he was always in some kind of trouble, either with people in authority or covered in bruises and scraps from the aftermath of his silliness

you explained it once to him in the simpliest terms you could think up

squishing his cheeks between your palms youd looked him in the eye and said

“you are my boyfriend, and if you break your arm doing something dumb - what does that mean 1) your arm is broken and 2) you cant hold my hand with that arm so that sucks for me and you - right?”

to be honest you could dangle holding hands or kisses as leverage and hendery will give up on the spot

because lets be honest, he cannot live a day without at least giving you some kind of physical affection

the boy is a bursting pile of cheesy love - and you really try not to use that against him

because it really is so wonderful and pure

but if he wants to do something dumb you will put your palm out when he leans in to kiss you and he will get all fretty like a big baby

kun at some point: don't you feel like youre a dog owner with a big, misbehaving puppy

you: no, not at all.

kun: really?

you: at least a misbehaving puppy listens sometimes

kun: ah, i see

hendery’s kind of dates include a lot of latenight fast food runs and showing up to your dorm with the excited news that he got a hold of someones netflix password so you guys can binge corny tv shows

you thought he’d be the type to want a new adventure everyday, but surprisingly enough, hes very VERY content with staying in and just snuggling

not to say you two don't have some very memorable and slightly embarrassing date stories

ahem, that one time hendery got you bubble tea and you were waiting outside and he said “look I can balance both our drinks on my head!”

of course he spilled them all over himself

and you two used up all the napkins in the store before escaping the cashiers glare into a nearby store to get hendery a new tshirt

hendery isn't super flashy by the way, his clothes are mostly comfortable basics, and he likes a bit of an oversized fit

so when you wear them they’re extra loved and cozy

hendery gets a bit fidgety the first time you do it - and you really cannot tell why

you wonder if he doesnt like you borrowing his clothes, but then you roll over a little to cuddle against him and he freezes

and you’re like

oh, that’s why

hendery - although loud and energetic in all other aspects of life - is a pretty bashful lover

his hands are always a little shaky and he waits for you to lead in with anything more than kisses

and you actually think its very, very adorable

because he gets this kinda dreamy look in his eyes and his voice gets softer

and when your lips are on his collarbones its like the only thing he can even do is whisper your name against your hair

its a side you enjoy keeping all to yourself, and hendery is so thankful because oh my god no one would let him live it down

xiaojun gets a little grumpy that you and hendery are always around more - but he likes you as a person

(to him, youre the only person who can really keep hendery’s ambitiousness incheck)

so he lets it slide

plus you finally got hendery to stop coming around to his ballet practice, because you refuse to let hendery do so until he finishes his labs

and you know hendery is smart, you tell from the way he can offhandedly answer questions about his major

and even though he has this idiotic habit of dumbing himself down for comedy

seeing him run up to you and show you the first perfect score on his lab, it really makes you swell with pride

and his interest in infectious diseases and all the weird diagrams of micro-organisms and whatnot doesnt phase you

actually his passion for it makes you excited to listen to him talk

and ten is like ew that thing looks like a bug

and youre like “listen to me, if hendery thinks the cell membrane is cute then you say its cute. ok. or. else.”

gosh when you guys get together - theres this energy that is so ,,,,, sweet - its almost a little dizzying

because its obvious that these feelings you two can so freely show to each other now have been piling up for a while

and now its free reign

sometimes hendery’s bangs get long and hell lean in to kiss you but his hair will tickle you first

and you always do this like giggle and hiccup when you get tickled

and hendery once blinks and goes

“you know your hiccups are number 105 on the list of things I love about you”

and you laugh because lol wow do you really have a list

and hes like pffft no

(he has a list, it is in his iphone notes)

hendery the type of boyfriend who spends like five weeks planning a celebration for your anniversery

but on the day off hes like F I cant do this and abandones all his plans

and just shows up in front of you with twelve different bundles of flowers and ten different stuffed animals

and is like

“I know you really like roses, but also you said you liked sunflowers when we went to that farm and i know your a cat person, but you also like wolves so I got you-”

he just really really really wants to make you happy

and sometimes you can tell that he thinks he doesnt

that he compares himself to people he thinks are better for you

and that's when you’re just like hendery, look at me - its you. its only going to be you.

because the universe might have felt like you two didn't fit, but its so obvious you do

you made up a rule that if hendery tries to talk down about himself he has to do ten pushups with you on his back

but you never actually make him do it ,,,,, you just spend like an hour telling him he’s so dumb - because you are so in love with him

as you guys go into senior year together, hendery becomes your biggest cheerleader and you become his

and seriously you two could get through anything togther

one afternoon, as you’re walking back from class and hendery slides his palm into yours

you see johnny and taeyong across the ways - they’re picking some people up or something and taeyong notices you two

he waves

and you both wave back

when you get to your dorm and you curl up in hendery’s arms, you feel him play with the ends of your hair

“I never asked you, why did you tell everyone about my crush on taeyong?”

“when you said you liked him, I thought you meant like in the moment - and so I thought I could get yukhei to set you two up.”

“but didn't you already have feelings for me?”

hendery smiles a little against your hair

“yeah, but nothing mattered more to me than making you happy.”

you clutch the front of his shirt a little - the sentence makes you want to cry

from happiness, but also because of course - you had jumped to conclusions thinking he’d done it to hurt you

but its hendery, of course he only did it to help

“wanna know something dumb?”

hendery moves back a little so he can look at you better

“hmm?”

“ive always wished we knew each other better back in highschool - maybe then we’d have more time and none of that would have happened. maybe we could have fallen in love all those years ago.”

he scrunches up his nose and you sit up

he follows suit and takes your hands in his

“yeah but - it was worth it. and hey, if we’d been buddies or whatever you might have never left your letter in that locker and ii would have never gotten to throw that rock through the window.”

you roll your eyes

“reall-”

“that was a stupid thing to do, and its the only stupid thing ive done that im so happy i did.”

you let yourself fall forward, right into his arms, they’re warm and they feel so perfect around you

“oh - and shouting out how much i love you in front of your whole class. that's another stupid thing im proud of.”

*this post was commissioned | other college!aus

#wayv scenarios #wayv imagines #wayv au #hendery scenarios #hendery imagines #hendery au #wayv #hendery #college!au #sfw #member: hendery #the way this reads like a 12 part anime in one #wiring commission #wayv hendery #tw: drinking #/drinking

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dalekofchaos · 4 years

Text

The Fireflies’ vaccine wouldn’t have worked or why Joel did the right thing

In the last part of The Last of Us, Joel kills all the fireflies and saves Ellie but by doing so he may have doomed humanity by ending the possibility of a cure being made, making the ending bittersweet and morally ambiguous. The thing is, Joel didn't really do anything wrong, and saving Ellie was the right choice, here are my reasons:

The doctors would remove Ellie's brain to try to create a vaccine, but that's not how vaccines works, a vaccine is a tamed version of a pathogen that "teaches" your body to defend against it, to do a vaccine you need to use the pathogen in small quantities or a modified version of it, Ellie is immune to it, you don't create vaccines from the immune system, that's called a serum, and it works differently, a serum is used when someone comes in contact with a disease and it contains a series of antibodies that fight the infection, but it doesn't make anyone immune. So what they were trying to do was pointless;

Even if the doctors know what they were doing, it was a wild shot a with no guarantee that it would work;

Even if a vaccine was successfully made they wouldn't save the world, the world was destroyed 20 years ago, society collapsed and was rebuilt again on a new way, and everyone already new how to deal with it, also the greatest threat were not even the cordyceps fungus anymore, it was the infected (that the vaccine couldn't do nothing about) and the crooked humans that walked the earth. Besides that, the fireflies had no way to distribute the vaccine worldwide, not even in a national level.

If you listen to the tapes in the Colorado segment, it pretty much confirms that Ellie is not unique and they wouldn’t be able to make a vaccine anyway. The doctor has practically lost his mind and Ellie is just his white whale. Ellie was not the first subject and she most likely wouldn’t have been the last.

The doctor pretty much went against the common ethical code of all medical practitioners just for a CHANCE at a vaccine/cure.

And wouldn't it take a lot of time to study her? A day to do all the tests is outright impossible. Just look at the corona vaccine. With all the tech the world has the biotechnologists are going to take more than a year to make a vac.

Vaccines for Fungal infections are nearly impossible and are a logistical nightmare.Even in today’s world,they can only be treated with antibiotics and anti-fungal medicine. They didn’t even bother with thoroughly researching Ellie’s blood and trying to extract the fungal specimen without killing her. The tests were blood samples and samples from the area where she was bit and then only cutting her brain open as THE LAST POSSIBLE USE for her, then when their step 1 was "lol just kill this incredibly rare specimen" I was shocked.

BTW, PS4 version actually removed a piece of paper that's available in all the other forms of the game. What is this piece of paper? Just the one that describes how they've tried this process dozens of times before and how they've NEVER gotten any useful info.

The Fireflies are terrorists. The Fireflies are terrorists, and not even competent ones. Here we go. We first hear of the Fireflies in credits, where they are taking credit for attacking the Federal Disaster Response Agency. Not a good start.The next time we start to see hints of them is through graffiti in the quarantine zone. What does this graffiti say? Fireflies will take it all back. That sounds great! Burn it all down. ...oh. That’s, uh, a little less great. Fucking die, pig. Um… Uh, that’s uh, not a great look here guys.And that goes on and on. The graffiti does not exactly inspire. All it does is get angry.Next time we see them, it’s when they literally bomb a checkpoint and supply truck, then begin firing wildly all over the place. This is straight terrorism. They don’t care if there is collateral damage, in fact, Joel gets injured in this scene.Then we meet Marlene, the so-called Queen Firefly. Injured and on the run, the military is slowly wiping them out. This leads to a line of dialogue that is absolutely hilarious. Marlene starts to preach about “We’ve been quiet. Been planning on leaving the city, but they need a scapegoat. They’ve been trying to rile us up. We’re trying to defend ourselves”Those are big words from someone who just bombed a checkpoint.This clearly shows us that Marlene cannot be trusted as a narrator. She has an agenda and is lying to Joel and possibly herself. And that despite how effective guerrilla tactics usually are, her group is still managing to get absolutely devastated. They are failing so badly that they have to recruit smugglers just to try to get Ellie out of the city.So begins the trek showing dead Fireflies at every turn. Downtown subway station? Dead Fireflies. The Capitol building? Dead Fireflies. Pittsburgh? Oh, let’s talk about Pittsburgh.Pittsburgh is a monument to Firefly failure. Pittsburgh was originally another Quarantine zone held together by FEDRA. So what happened here? Well, times got hard, and the Fireflies instigated a civil war or insurrection. This fighting lasted for months, with Fireflies lynching soldiers that they caught alone, burning soldiers alive after dousing them in gasoline, and FEDRA retaliating by executing Fireflies. FEDRA finally gave up and retreated from Pittsburgh, putting the Fireflies in control- and then it all fell apart. The people of Pittsburgh discover that the Fireflies had planned to move right into the space FEDRA had previously occupied. And so, after this was discovered, the Fireflies were driven out just like FEDRA had been. Only much faster, and with less fight. And now Pittsburgh is nothing but anarchy. People gunned down in the streets for nothing. Rooms full of bodies, clothes and shoes. Almost looks like after images of Dachau. Bravo, Fireflies. Excellent revolution.Next up, we meet Tommy, Joel’s brother, and disenfranchised Firefly. He worked for them for years, going all the way to Colorado for them. Somewhere along the way, he lost faith in them and left their cause. He doesn’t specify exactly why, but it seems he might have lost faith in their methods.Then we come to the University. This is where we really discover how incompetent the Fireflies actually are. One of the first notes you see at University is about a guy who is angry he got yelled at for falling asleep on guard duty. Real professionals. This same note indicates that while they’re still getting some supplies, it’s not enough for what’s needed, with gasoline being particularly short. The next note comes from a recording, telling us that they’re losing more guards, with the doctor clearly concerned about how much equipment and data will be lost if they have to move. The doctor even calls the Fireflies incompetent in this note. And then we have this genius.. That’s right. Bitten by his own lab monkey. Because he just had to set it free, rather than putting it down humanely. Brilliant work sir. Brilliant. He kills himself before turning though, but not before informing us that they hadn’t accomplished anything for over five years. And even that small breakthrough was ultimately a failure. And now the entire lab is compromised, and abandoned.And then there’s a long break from Fireflies until Salt Lake. Ellie, having just gone underwater, isn’t breathing. Joel attempts to perform CPR on her when our hero Firefly shows up, and knocks Joel unconscious. Ah, violence. The first solution. Willing to forgive it, since it strongly mirrors the scene with Sarah, only the Firefly is in the soldier’s shoes this time. But still. Military was gentler.And now for the hospital. The final failure of the Fireflies. This is where so many people are convinced that Joel screws the world by preventing a vaccine. But somehow, I just don’t think so. This is one last desperate bid by the Fireflies for control. How do they intend to do this? Comprehensive bloodwork? No. Vigorous testing with laboratory animals, like, oh, maybe monkeys? No, someone let all their monkeys go. Crack open her head and hope for the best? Hell yeah! Does the fact that they’ve lost their biologist concern them? Nah, it’ll be fine! Does the fact that this is the only time they’ve seen immunity to this degree even give them pause? Pfft, crack her open! Does the fact that there has never been a successful vaccine against fungus give them pause? PASS THAT SCALPEL! No need to think this over, let’s blow our whole load on this once in a lifetime lucky strike as fast as possible. No, I’ve never heard the story about the goose who laid the golden eggs, tell it to me after I finish butchering surgery. Even if we make this vaccine, how will we deploy it? You're thinking too hard, hand me the saw!This is just bad science. Done by bad scientists. Cheered on by fools. Fools who wanted to murder Joel after he made that long trip.And for people who insist on government and democracy, it’s funny how they didn’t risk telling Ellie their “plan” and just sedated her and rushed her to the table.

Even by SOME MIRACLE they managed to make a vaccine, the world ain't gonna automatically return to what it was. It's a dog eat dog world and that is the new normal. Infected, cannibals, more psychos like David and raiders are still there and it ain't going away soon or maybe ever. On top of that, mass production and distribution of a vaccine is an absolute logistical nightmare in a post apocalyptic world- they simply don't have enough resources for that. And who's to say The Fireflies wouldn't use it to as a bargaining tool to put everyone, willing or not, under their new rule? And even given all that, they debated killing Joel after he delivered Ellie. He did the job and the payment he received was getting knocked out and being marched outside of the safe zone AT GUNPOINT WITHOUT HIS WEAPONS AND SUPPLIES! The Fireflies broke their deal and fucked Joel over. Joel had ever right to kill them and save Ellie.

So I believe what Joel did in the end was the right thing, the fireflies was an extremist group that was willing to do anything not to save the world, but to prove their point, even kill an innocent girl under a delusional precept.

#The Last Of Us #Joel Miller #Ellie Williams #The Fireflies #Marlene #Jerry Anderson

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andersunmenschlich · 4 years

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Episode 13: Alone

All right! Finally I've managed to make time for another episode.

The title is promising. But... uh. We're getting another person talking now. Yeah, I'm not entirely comfortable with this. Bad enough there were all those background characters hanging around the archive, now we're hearing other people direct? And on an episode with a title like this, too!

I'm annoyed. This isn't what I was looking forward to. And Naomi Herne doesn't strike me as particularly polite, either. What, may I ask, is wrong with tape recorders? I quite liked recording things on tape when I was growing up.

...Ooh, interesting.

Looks like they started off trying to do the recording on something a bit more up to date than a tape recorder, and it didn't work.

I like that. I like that very much.

And it's fascinating that the head archivist is taking her statement himself! "I can have it transcribed later"? How very odd. Why not just have her write it down? Isn't that what they've been doing for decades? And even now: the statement-givers write things down, the assistants research and verify, the archivist makes an audio recording and files everything neatly. At least, I got the impression that that's how it's supposed to be done. So what is this? Surely nothing could possibly have been confirmed yet—the statement hasn't even been given!

It's untidy. I don't like it. Naomi Herne shouldn't be talking to Jonathan Sims, it doesn't make sense. Shouldn't she be talking to the receptionist, what's the name... Rosie? Isn't Rosie the one who takes the statements in usually?

I feel like we're missing a buffer, and it's both unsettling and extremely interesting.

So.

Naomi Herne is here to tell the Magnus Institute about something that happened after her husband's funeral. And aha! Finally!

It's about time we learned when this podcast is happening. That's been niggling at me for twelve whole episodes now. "The date is the thirteenth of January, 2016." Awesome. So the first statement was transferred to tape at the end of 2015 or the beginning of 2016. I wonder how many they do a day, and whether they work weekends. It'd be pleasantly tidy if they recorded one statement to tape a day, every day. I'd like that.

Naomi Herne says the thing that happened was weird and inexplicable given her current knowledge of the world she lives in, and that she probably imagined the whole thing. Somehow I suspect she doesn't believe that at all, but would like to make herself believe it if she can.

...And Mr. Sims interrupts.

You know, I really don't like having more than one person here. It's an innovation I’m not particularly enjoying.

In any case, Jonathan Sims tries to leave, Naomi Herne wants him to stay... I don't understand either person here. Is there really a point to giving someone privacy while they make a statement that's going to be listened to and copied down and researched and so on by a whole team of people? What's the reasoning behind that thought? And, on the other hand, why would you not want to be alone?

Maybe it's growing up in a house with thirteen other people (nine siblings, two parents, two grandparents), but it seems to me that being alone is a rare and wonderful thing. You know I didn't even have my own bedroom until my late teens?

If someone is willing to leave you alone, in my opinion, you should be delighted.

Jonathan agrees to stay while Naomi gives her statement. Hopefully this won't lead to more conversation. I suppose we'll see.

Apparently Naomi Herne, like me, works at being a bit of a blender. Average, unnoticeable, overlooked—like the paint on a wall, something nobody really looks at or thinks about. A good choice if you want to get things done without being constantly interrupted by people wanting to chat or hang out or party or know what you're doing in a restricted area or who knows what all else.

Unlike me, however, she says she "did get a bit lonely sometimes," which I can't say I ever have. While it might seem useful to have friends as a sort of social camouflage, they're such a demanding form of camouflage that in practice it isn't actually worth it.

She says a Pastor David seemed worried about her comfort with her own company. Well, at least he was the only one.

Honestly, who worries about a thing like that?

[sarcastically] Ooh, it's not natural for people to live in isolation, humans are creatures of community by nature. Next I'll be hearing how I'm not human and don't really count as a person (again). Perhaps the definition of "human" ought to be expanded, hmm? Include some of those sentient, human-shaped beings who aren't, by nature, what people like Pastor David insist all humans are.

Well. Pastor David, according to Naomi Herne, was worried she might "get lost," whatever that means. Naomi says she thinks she knows what he meant by it—but for some reason she doesn't tell us! Inconsiderate. Eh, perhaps she'll do it later.

Naomi graduated from Leeds in 2013 with the highest possible honors degree in Chemistry.

I like chemistry. Seems like the closest you can get to alchemy in real life.

Anyway, she got a job as a science technician in Woking, near London, which is where she was applying for a better job—lab assistant in a biochemistry department at University College London—when she met someone named Evan, who was also applying for that job. Apparently she clicked with him. Got along with him so well, in fact, that she was happy to see him waiting for her outside the building after their interviews.

Of course, it couldn't stay this good. No. They had to start dating, and then living together, and then they got married, because everyone knows that's the natural progression when you actually get along with someone. No other flavors of relationship are valid (maybe not even possible).

Annoyance aside, Naomi Herne doesn't usually do relationships of this type. She says her past boyfriends left when they realized she wasn't all that thrilled about having them around, which seems like the polite thing to do, really.

This Evan, though, is basically her soulmate.

Despite the fact that he has a battalion of friends, and this ends up pulling her into having "what could perhaps be called a social life."

Doesn't sound particularly pleasant, but she says she didn't hate it, which I suppose I can almost see; it is easier to be around people when you have a trusted human buffer. And after Evan dies from a congenital heart problem, she stops hanging out with his friends and goes back to comfortably familiar solitude, which makes sense to me.

She did attend the funeral, though. It seems Evans had a very rich family, with their own personal mausoleum out at their mansion, Moorland House.

It was a very quiet funeral, and not a particularly friendly one.

Naomi says everyone there was wearing the same expression. Even the corpse. She doesn't say what expression specifically, though—just that it's hard and possibly angry. Oh, and finally we get a last name for her husband: he's Evan Lucas.

Huh.

They send her away to do the burial. That doesn't seem usual.

So she drives off in the pouring rain in the middle of a storm, which doesn't seem safe, and naturally enough she crashes.

It's not a melodramatic crash, though. She just plows off the road into a field and then sits there with her engine smoking and definitely not running, and realizes it's been five hours since she arrived at the Lucas place... oh, and she has no cell service (or GPS functionality) out there.

This means she has to walk. In the storm.

She gets so wet it wrecks her phone, which she finds infuriating, so she throws the useless thing onto the ground, where it breaks further, then bounces off the road and buries itself completely in the mud. She walks and walks and walks, crying and soaked through and very cold, until finally she collapses, at which point she notices that the rain has stopped and now she's surrounded by fog.

...Fog that seems to be following her. And gives her the feeling that it's malicious. And wants something from her. Well, now. That's interesting.

Uh.

And then she makes a point of saying there's no presence to it. Yeah, that makes no sense at all. Malice and desire aren't properties of nothingness! There has to be something present in order for it to want something from you.

"It made me feel utterly forsaken," she says, and in my experience it's always people who do that.

In any case, she gets up and starts to run down the road, hoping to reach the end. Instead she loses the path. It takes her a little while to notice that she's running on dirt and grass instead of tarmac. Once she does, she tries to backtrack, but can't find the road at all. So for some reason she decides to kneel down and check out the dirt, which is mist-damp but not rain-wet.

Ahaha, she went sideways, didn't she? This is delightful.

Whatever new dimension she's found herself in, it sounds most agreeable to me. No stars, no moon, no artificial lights, a night so dark you shouldn't be able to see—but you can. A shifting, slate-grey fog, skeletal trees, grass, dirt, old, abandoned gravestones....

If there were a sign saying "Stay, Wander Awhile," it couldn't be more welcoming than this.

In the center of the graveyard is a small chapel. According to Naomi Herne's description, "The top of its steeple was lost in the gloom and the windows were dark. There was stained glass in the windows, but without any light from inside I couldn't make out the design. Wrapped around the handles of the entrance was a sturdy iron chain."

At this point, for some reason, she starts shouting and screaming for help. I was prepared to be annoyed by this, but (wonder of wonders!) it's a sound-muffling fog. Oh, I like this place so much.

Naomi Herne, on the other hand....

This obnoxious individual continues yelling even after it's clear no one can hear her but herself, just to hear the noise. And then she goes looking for something to break a church window with because, inexplicably, she's decided being inside the church will keep the fog away from her. "Anything to get out of the fog"? Pardon me, Ms. Herne, but you're breaking a window, correct? It's just going to follow you in!

She also says "I was sure that eventually someone would find me," which isn't at all the impression I'm receiving from this dimension a step or two sideways from our own. Surely a place like this would keep you safe from everyone forever?

Whatever the case, she goes for a piece of stone that's fallen from one of the grave markers.

As she bends over to pick it up, though, she notices that the grave is empty.

"The hole was neat, square and deep, as though ready for a burial. At the bottom was a coffin. It was open, and there was nothing inside. I backed away and almost fell into another open grave behind me. I started to look around the cemetery with increasing panic. Every grave was open, and they were all empty."

Ha. Well, it looks like someone missed the Rapture.

You know, if it weren't for the danger of being buried by sliding earth, I'd be tempted to climb into one of those empty coffins and take a bit of a nap.

—Oh. How prescient of me.

The fog starts pulling Naomi Herne, our statement giver, into that first grave. She says it began to weigh her down: "It coiled about me, its formless damp clung to me and began to drag me gently, slowly, towards the waiting pit."

Backing away, she slips on the damp ground and falls. Sliding towards the grave, she uses that heavy piece of stone as an anchor to keep herself out.

Hey, and she gets away! Well done, Naomi Herne.

Struggling to her feet, she suddenly notices that the chapel's doors are open now. The chain's just lying on the steps. Huh. Well, who or what did that? Hmm. Whatever the case, this looks like an invitation to me. But how inviting is the inside of this church? I practically grew up in churches, so they're as familiar to me as libraries (oh, all right: even more so). In my opinion, the least inviting church tends to be the one with the most worshipers in it.

Oh, but this church is very welcoming! It looks as though she's being invited to go deeper, further sideways, farther away from the world we know.

"Through that door, where the inside of the chapel should be, was a field. It was bathed in sickly moonlight, and the fog rolled close to the ground. It seemed to stretch for miles, and I knew that I could wander there for years, and never meet another."

Ahh, that's beautiful.

This is the kind of thing I take my midnight walks for. Hours alone in the mountains under the moon, while the wolves howl in the distance and the lights of the city fade....

Naomi Herne, however, doesn't seem drawn to it.

She turns away from the door—and nearly cries when she sees that beyond the graveyard's edge is that same field. You know, some people have all the luck and just don't appreciate it at all. Of course, I could be mistaken about this place. But I have the feeling a person wouldn't need to eat or sleep here; that physical needs would be optional. I could use that. I'm always acting as though I think they are, and then my body stops working properly. It's annoying.

Anyway, our statement-giver runs away from the field beyond the door and into the field beyond the cemetery.

It beats me why she's running.

Apparently this place doesn't see why she should run, either. "The fog seemed to be getting thicker, and moving through it was getting harder. It was like I was running against the wind, except the air was completely still. I could hardly breathe as I inhaled it."

Yes; that's because you're running. Slow down and everything should be perfectly fine.

Oh. How unexpected.

As Naomi Herne is running through this endless field in a world two steps to the side of our own, her dead husband's voice calls to her. "Turn left," he says. And she does.

Turning sharply to the left, she keeps on running. She runs out into the middle of a road in our world, and wham! gets hit by a car. "I remember a second of headlights, and then nothing until I woke up in the hospital."

...Wait. "I would suggest you leave the stone with us so we can study it"?

What stone?

Don't tell me she was running around carrying that heavy piece of headstone? Surely not. And then, what, whoever hit her decided to take the rock to the hospital as well? That doesn't make a great deal of sense. But I'm pretty sure that's the only stone that's been mentioned this entire statement which she could possibly have brought to the institute, so....

Mr. Sims suggests that Ms. Herne see a psychologist. Ms. Herne is offended. The tape recorder gets turned off.

See? There's a definite click when that happens. We'd know if Mr. Sims took a break to do research. ...Not that I've ever heard him recite any incantations either, though. Maybe it's his research assistants who can do the beholding spell.

They certainly seem uncannily good at getting their hands on information.

Whatever the case, Mr. Sims says research was done while the tape recorder was stopped. Evan Lucas died from heart failure 3-22-15 and his family handled the burial.

"All requests to the Lucas family for information or interviews have been very firmly rebuffed," which is impressive given how much data these archival assistants have been able to dig out of everybody else in the past twelve episodes. It's rare for people to refuse to talk to them, which I could put down to the use of some sort of magic—but won't, because I'm fairly certain I'm not magical and yet people are always telling me things about themselves even when I didn't ask.

Not that I'm not interested!

I'm always interested when a stranger comes up to me and strikes up a somewhat one-sided conversation which evolves into them telling me about their childhood, or fear of Alzheimer's so desperate they'd rather die than have their mind slip away from them, or why they decided to become whatever they are, or some such thing.

If I have to interact with people, well—I think listening to their deeply personal information is one of the best flavors of human interaction.

...Though I will admit that having people talk to me like this all the time has kind of confused my understanding of what things are supposed to be private.

In any case.

Naomi Herne got hit by a car at about one am March 31. The funeral was a week after the death, so that means Ms. Herne slipped sideways on the 29th, which means she was in that otherworld for a full day and change?

The person who hit her was named Michael Getty, and the place was "Wormshill in the Kent Downs," wherever that is. Her car was in a field five miles away.

She was concussed and dehydrated, but there's no mention of her having not eaten for a full day and then some, so either they're ignoring that or food really isn't necessary in fairyland. Though apparently liquids are, which is strange since she was surrounded by fog the whole time! Hmm. You don't think the moisture was coming from her own body, do you? Amplified, yes, enhanced somehow, but... the non-presence in the fog... it could have been her.

That would make a kind of sense.

You can't have things like malice or desire without something present to be malicious or desirous, yet she said "it wasn't as though there was another person there...." Yes, yes, that makes sense!

I hypothesize that, somehow, the part of Naomi Herne that likes being alone manifested semi-separately from the rest of her, sucking moisture from her body to surround her as a thick fog and guide her off at an other-dimensional angle into a world where she could be alone forever. The part of her that doesn't want to be alone was terrified by this, and that's why she ran.

That doesn't explain her dead husband's voice, though. What kind of solitary fairyland has the ghosts of other people in it?

Also, her husband had plenty of friends and was apparently just fine with people—I somehow doubt his heaven would look like that. So what the hey. I can't make sense of that at all.

Well. Back to Jonathan Sims.

Mr. Sims would like to dismiss the whole thing as a hallucination, but unfortunately for him, Naomi Herne was clutching a chunk of carved granite when Michael Getty hit her, and the unfortunate near-perpetrator of vehicular manslaughter apparently decided the woman and the rock were a set, so she was able to bring it to the Magnus Institute and show it to him.

It's got an engraved cross design, looks like it came off a headstone, and has one word on it that's probably from the marker: "Forgotten."

Jonathan Sims says it's going to artifact storage. You know, the Magnus Institute's artifact storage must be an interesting place full of some very weird things. I wouldn't half mind taking a look.

And the recording ends.

This is probably the last episode I'll be listening to for a while, since once I've got this piece of commentary saved in my Tumblr queue I'll need to box my laptop up and ship it across the country to myself. I've never moved my entire life quite this far before. It's proving to be a bit of an undertaking. Once I'm settled in, though, I want to come back to this.

The Magnus Archives is an excellent podcast. I very much want to hear more.

#The Magnus Archives #episode 13 #commentary #late to the party #5-28-20

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ilovemyschool · 4 years

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Teaching through COVID???

Bless you if you actually make it to the end of this post, lol.

I teach high school science- specifically Chemistry and AP Chemistry. I absolutely love teaching and I love my students. I especially enjoy getting to talk to them about what they want to do when they graduate, where they want to go to college, what kind of jobs they want to do, and all of that fun stuff. Finishing high school is an incredibly exciting time in life for a person, and I feel privileged to get to re-live the excitement and apprehension and hopefulness and all the other feelings that come along with having so many possibilities for your life laid out in front of you. I don’t know any other kind of work that allows you to feel those feelings year after year like I get to through my students. I also try to support them through the hard stuff. I listen when they cry and tell me that they feel alone in a room full of people, I hug them (if they want a hug) when they tell me their mom moved out over the weekend, and I feed them and get them additional support when they tell me they are hungry and don’t have enough to eat. I spend hours on tutoring, grading, and lesson planning outside of my “contract hours.” It never bothered me because I knew I was doing something that mattered to my kids. If you’ve never gotten to see a kid gain self-confidence in their own ability by practicing with you one-on-one- let me just tell you it’s magical. When they know you’ll sit down and work with them again and again when it’s still tough for them, they can see that you believe they’re worth the time and effort, and they start to believe it too. When you get a note from a student about how they never thought they’d be able to understand chemistry so well, but aced a state final exam or got a 4 or 5 on the AP exam, it feels like you’ve done more than teach them your subject- you’ve taught them to believe they can do hard things.

I’m sick to my stomach right now, because I am so torn on whether to go back this year. My students are set to come back in two weeks. There are so many things going through my head and this has been whirling around for the past two weeks, so I’m writing it out. To quit or not to quit. That is my question.

To Quit:

*My district notified parents of the plan just two weeks ago at the same time as the teachers- teachers actually just got a quick email that said something to the effect of “oh hey- check out this stuff we’re sending to parents about next school year.”

*Since they released their plan, I got in to see a doctor. I have an autoimmune condition. It’s not a big deal in general, just a pill everyday, but it does affect my risk- although in the grand scheme of immuno-issues, thankfully mine is on the low end of the COVID risk spectrum.

*The district’s plan is for all students to go back to school 5 days/week, unless they opt for the virtual option. The hours will be shortened so that the district doesn’t have to do a deep clean at the 4 hour mark as would be required if we were in school for the usual 7 hours. Instead, teachers will all teach 4 class periods and also have to teach an online class. If you’ve never taught, teaching online is a whole separate thing, so even if you teach chem both online and in person, it’s likely that most of the time you’ll have to set up your lessons completely differently for the two. It’s not a deal breaker, but it’s extra work for sure.

*Teachers are responsible for sanitizing the classrooms between classes, which means we’ll have to pee some other time, although every teacher is teaching all 4 classes, so we won’t have anyone available to cover us? I guess they’ll figure that out?

*According to the FAQ document our principal sent out, if we are told to quarantine or isolate, we have to use our sick days. If we go through our sick days or run out we can apply to the sick day bank. They don’t say it in the FAQ, but once you’ve used up days, they dock your pay.

*However, that might not actually be a problem, because in a virtual staff meeting they held on Friday, the assistant superintendent shared that the health department here is now defining “exposure” as 15 minutes or more within 6 feet of a person who has tested positive without a mask. That means that we could be in the classroom with kids who later test positive for COVID for an hour and neither the teacher nor the parents of the other kids in that class would be notified or asked to isolate because we were all wearing masks and therefore were “not exposed.”

*Since all kids are going back at the same time, thats nearly 1800 kids (minus the ones who signed up to take all their classes virtually). Based on early estimates, less than 20% are going to opt to go online. There are no plans to stagger class changes, which means our hallways will be full- it will not be possible for students to social distance.

*Currently, I have a class with 33 students in one of my face-to-face classes. That’s a fairly big class anyway, but in COVID, they’ll be packed in there. It is not possible to keep that many kids 6 feet apart in my classroom.

*We are relying on parents to do temperature checks every day and keep their child home if their temp is 100.4 or above. If you’ve ever taught, you know that while most parents are responsible with things like this, there are some that will send their child in no matter what because they have to work or (in some very sad situations) want the time to themselves.

*In our state’s official COVID school plans, they outlined “Required,” “Strongly Recommended,” and “Recommended” measures. My district seems to be reading “Strongly Recommended” as “Not Required.” This means that they are okay with us running labs, sharing equipment, and working in close proximity because they think that parents understand that if they’re sending their child to school, that they know their child will be in close proximity to others. They say that parents know that their kids will be 2/bus seat anyway and that they’re going to have to be changing classes in a full hallway. I’m not so sure I agree with that. I think parents are probably very unaware of that because I think it would be reasonable for parents to think that the “Strongly Recommended” guidelines would be implemented. I’m not a parent, but I think that I would assume that? Unfortunately, things like 6 feet of separation, doing on-site temperature checks, and not sharing materials are in the “Strongly Recommended” category, which means the district will “do their best.”

*Our district’s Union President wrote a letter to the board on our behalf regarding the strongly recommended guidelines. The superintendent was dismissive of those concerns, stating that schools in other countries saw negligible spread upon reopening, which is like comparing our shitty COVID apples to European oranges. Shortly after his response, two other board members went on to praise the administration for putting together a “safe” plan and quickly approved it to send on to the department of education. I wish that those board members would come and sit in our classrooms for the first few weeks of school.

*We won’t know which class(es) we’ll be teaching online until the week before (best case scenario), so we can’t prepare very much that is specific to our class until the week before school. We won’t know our final schedule in general until next week. To not know this with only a week and a half to go is insane. My anxiety is in full gear.

*Financially, we could handle it if I don’t work.

Not to Quit:

*I have one student who had me for a science class his freshman year, then requested to take my chemistry class during his sophomore year, and is signed up for AP Chem this year. I don’t want to miss it.

*Lots of my former chem kids are signed up for my AP Chem class this year. I’m newer to the school, but I’ve been really working on growing the AP Chem program. We even had enough students sign up to make 2 sections of AP Chem this year, which hasn’t happened in a long time at this school.

*I don’t want to quit with only 2 weeks before school- granted, they just announced the district plans 2 weeks ago and in that time I’ve had to talk with my husband and family, consult a doctor, and look at our finances and upcoming expenses to gather the information I need to make a decision. However, with only 2 weeks left before kids are in my classroom, it would be extremely tight to hire and have someone in place for those kids. I would hate to leave students in that spot where they might start school with a sub.

*I LOVE my classroom and my lab. I put so much time into organizing and cleaning it out. I decorated it really nice and made it super functional. I would hate to have to move everything out- I doubt I’d ever have a classroom that epic again. All my desks match, too!

*A bird in hand is worth two in the bush. I have a job I really love at a school I like and with kids I like and it’s close to my house. If I resign, they’ll have to hire someone else for my job, and I won’t get it back next year. There is no guarantee that I get hired again next year at another school nearby either. With budget cuts, who knows?

*In a new job, I could be teaching anything in the sciences- I love that I have a specifically chemistry teaching job. Those are rare and hard to come by.

*One of the “Required” measures in the state’s plan is to wear a mask. That’s helpful. All students and staff will have to wear a mask unless they are medically exempt.

*I’m still youngish, especially by COVID risk standards.

*Maybe nothing bad will happen- hopefully it won’t and the year will go relatively smoothly and staff and students will stay healthy and get through unscathed. If that ends up being how it goes, I’d regret resigning and second guess my decision.

*I would feel guilty for calling it quits when so many others don’t have the option and may be at higher risk than me due to age or underlying conditions or taking care of loved ones that are either older or immunocompromised. I know so many teachers who have to work this year because their spouse/partner is unemployed, or they are the sole breadwinner for their family, or they are going to retire soon and need their income to stay high to maximize their social security benefits.

*I don’t know how I’ll take it if I go from teaching full time to being a stay at home wife. I did stay at home for a year when we moved to another state, and it was HARD on me. I developed a bit of a depression, exasperated by some other things that were going on. I got on medication and did some therapy and it eventually resolved, but that SUCKED. I would really miss my students and my fellow teachers and having a clear purpose/mission for my days.

In conclusion...

I’m not generally a hypochondriac or a “Nervous Nelly.” Most stuff rolls off my back fairly easily. This scares me. I get the flu or an upper respiratory thing almost every year. There’s no reason to think that somehow I’ll manage to miss COVID if it comes into our school. I am beyond anxious about teaching in person with so few precautions being taken. I’m also angry that my choices are to resign and lose the job I really want or to go in and feel anxious and angry about the lack of care and respect that teachers and students are being shown by district and building administration for the foreseeable future until COVID is over. I have had a stress knot in my gut for the past two weeks over this stuff, and I highly doubt it’s going away if I decide to stay and teach.

Since the pandemic started I have stayed at my house with few exceptions over the summer. I wear a mask when I go out, I usually use a pick-up option for my groceries, a drive-thru option for my pharmacy, and I just avoid gatherings. We do occasionally see my in-laws and my parents, usually outside and observing social distancing. In my state restaurants can’t fill to more than 50% capacity and movie theaters are just plain closed, but schools are about to open at 100% capacity. I honestly can’t imagine putting myself in an enclosed space with over 30 kids or into a hallway with close to 1800 of them. Even more than that, I can’t imagine not sitting down at a desk next to them to help them or watch them work a problem to see what they’re thinking. I can’t imagine not getting to hug the girl who’s mom left or sit with the boy who doesn’t feel connected with his peers so he comes up to sit with me and do his homework after school. Even if I do teach this year, I worry that my kids won’t get what they need from me- whether that’s homework help or emotional support.

If you are so inclined, please send up a prayer for state leaders, school administrators, teachers/school staff, and students this year. We could all definitely use some wisdom, some grace, and your good vibes.

#teacher #school #back to school #covid #covid19 #covid-19 #tough decisions

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nadziejastar · 4 years

Note

I find reading headcanons fun and a lot of people interested in Lea and Isa who want to stay canon compatible go with the idea of "they were technically apprentices, but they were still used as test subjects." It just goes to show how important those implications were to their story, anyone invested is looking for a way to retcon them back in.

Yeah, I get why people wanna stick close to canon. I like to stay as close to canon as possible too, unless I feel like canon just absolutely dropped the ball, which is relatively rare. But that’s what I feel KH3 did with Lea and Isa. There were just FAR too many implications that they were test subjects to be hand-waved away so easily. I can totally understand why people are looking for a way to retcon those implications back in. They fit soooo perfectly and they were MUCH juicier than the canon backstory, which is really very boring.

Unbeknownst to me, my six apprentices then began collecting a large number of subjects on which to perform dangerous experiments into the “darkness of the heart.”

I wouldn’t even know HOW to write Axel as a former apprentice, without being a former test subject, too. Because it just doesn’t fit him. You have to ignore everything interesting about him and change his whole character. When I first played KH2, I was always interested in the experiments on the darkness of the heart and especially what the organization members were like as humans. We only got to know a little about that. We learned that members I-VI were apprentices of Ansem the Wise, which I thought was very intriguing. I started to speculate about what the other members’ backstories might be.

Are they the people who lost their hearts, or incarnations of darkness? Or something entirely beyond my imagination? All my knowledge has provided no answer. One thing I am sure of is that they are entirely devoid of emotion. Perhaps further study will unlock the mysteries of the heart. Fortunately, there is no shortage of test samples. They are multiplying underground even as I write this report. They still need a name. Those who lack hearts… I will call them the Heartless.

I am not even exaggerating, after reading the KH2 Ansem Reports, my first thought was that Axel was most likely a former test subject, due to the way he slaughtered Zexion and Vexen so mercilessly. He had a side to him that was rather…twisted. And I thought that was so fascinating. No way in hell do I believe he acted like that because he was trying to find some girl. No. He had a HUGE grudge against the organization which was very personal.

The only other organization member I thought might have been a former test subject was Saïx. Number VII. The first one to join after the apprentices.

And the reasons for that were obvious. He was freakish, like a science experiment. He was a werewolf/vampire type character with a large scar on his face. I have talked with people online about Axel’s apprentice backstory who said that they “saw it coming”. It was foreshadowed in advance. And I’m like, “Did we play the same games?” If anyone says that they thought Axel and Saïx made more sense as apprentices than test subjects, I simply do not believe them. I think they are either lying or they are such a fanboy/fangirl that they cannot bring themselves to question canon.

THIS is what always stood out to me about Axel in Days. He said very little about himself. It seems like most of the fandom latched onto Axel as this happy-go-lucky big brother figure who “adopts” Roxas and Xion and that was the extent of his character. Personally, I was always far more interested in Axel’s past. That’s what really made him an interesting character. Without that, he’s a bit flat, honestly.

When I played Days, it seemed to confirm my suspicions that Axel had a dark past.

The way the camera zoomed in on him when he mentioned his past said SO much. It was so subtle, but so dramatic. They obviously were hinting at something.

And it even involved Saïx, too. They really were BOTH test subjects. How fascinating, I thought.

Then I played BBS, and it showed them sneaking into the freaking castle! I was so excited! OBVIOUSLY these kids were experimented on. They were in the right place at the right time. It explains why they became organization members. It explains why Saïx is so…freakish even though when he was a kid he was so cute and normal. I mean, come on!!!! How could anyone not see what they were hinting at here? I was SO SO excited for TEN years to see their backstory.

When I played KH3, I was dumbfounded. Absolutely dumbfounded. Turns out Lea and Isa were connected to the experiments on the darkness of the heart (duh). But they weren’t the test subjects. It was Skuld. Ya know, that random NPC from KHUX? That’s right. Skuld.

…

Skuld!? Are you freaking kidding me!? All the spotlight is gonna be on her as the lab rat!? After all the subtle hints that Lea and Isa were experimented on? I felt like I had been led on and betrayed by the series. I was so sad and angry. KH has a lot of, well, bullshit in it. Like Ansem the Wise turning Kingdom Hearts into data and releasing everyone’s hearts. And it has a lot of retcons. It’s a series where “willing suspension of disbelief” is important. But what they did to Lea and Isa’s past? That crossed the line for me. That was unacceptable. And my willing suspension of disbelief was shattered. I simply cannot retroactively view Lea and Isa as apprentices. It just doesn’t fit with what we saw of them. It’s the worst, most ill-fitting backstory I have ever seen.

Lea’s whole character revolved around his mysterious past. And in the end, his whole past was summarized in a two minute cutscene where we were TOLD (not even shown) it. And his past isn’t even about him or his relationship with Isa or their shared pain. It’s all about setting up a plot for a character who, IMO, is supposed to be dead.

Yes, that’s right. Dead. IMO, Skuld and Ephemer and everybody else from the age of fairytales were supposed to be dead. The final world is like limbo where people with lingering regrets cannot move on to the afterlife. Sora wound up there, probably because the spirits drew him there. But he wasn’t dead. He could come back with the power of waking because his body was still alive. Demon Tide doesn’t kill your body.

But yeah, as far as I’m concerned, everyone else from the age of fairy tales is DEAD. KHUX wasn’t supposed to monopolize KH3′s plot the way it did. It wasn’t supposed to be that important. IMO, The main role of KHUX was to provide history to the Keyblade War and MX’s Keyblade. You would have the scene where the Keyblades come to life and take out the Demon Tide. It’s a nice little cameo to people who played KHUX, but nothing essential. Then, the hearts of the dead are finally at peace and they can pass on. The end. Their role is done. They weren’t supposed to come back! It’s stupid! Leave characters like a Ephemer and Skuld in the past where they belong!

Xaldin: It’s an order. Why do you hesitate? You, who has been ruthless towards those who’ve turned their backs on the Organization?

If you take away Axel’s past a former test subject and give it to Skuld, you change the very nature of his character. Look how KH3 downplayed Axel’s dark and ruthless side by making it seem like Saïx was the only one willing to get his hands dirty. Axel was apparently some perfect angel who was just innocently trying to find info on Subject X the whole time. Not, ya know, ruthlessly executing people. No! No, no no!

Don’t pretend like Axel was not a fucked up killer. He was almost as twisted as Saïx was. Not quite. But almost. Of course, I guess I understand why they downplayed this side of him. It really doesn’t make much sense for Axel to spend a decade ruthlessly killing people just to find a complete stranger who may or may not even be alive, does it? It would make a lot more sense if he was doing it because he was experimented on and his best friend was being held hostage by the organization.

But Axel being a fucked up killer was the very foundation of his excellent character arc. Why did he change and join the good side? It wasn’t because he became friends with Roxas or Xion. It’s because he became disgusted with himself. He was disgusted with himself after he killed Vexen and Sora was horrified at how much pleasure he got from it.

He was disgusted with himself when he saw Xion’s face for the first time and saw that she looked just like Namine. He was willing to slaughter Namine without a second thought in Castle Oblivion. But here was a girl who looked just like her, innocently asking to be his friend.

“You didn’t have to use force…”

Axel sighed theatrically and circled his shoulders. “Didn’t I?”

Still gripping Axel’s collar, Roxas shook his head with the emphatic refusal of a little kid. “No, you didn’t…” But he sounded uncertain as he said it, and his voice shrank even more. “We’re supposed to be best friends.”

Axel brushed Roxas’s hands from his collar. “This isn’t about friendship.”

Roxas raised his head. The glare in his blue eyes was sharp as a knife.

Axel had never seen that from him before. His chest twinged, just a bit. He let out another sigh. “Listen, if that’s all, I gotta go.”

Roxas wilted again, and something in his expression weakened Axel’s resolve slightly.

I just did what I thought was the best thing at the time. For Roxas, for Xion, for the Organization—and for Isa. But most of all for me.

He turned away from Roxas and made himself walk away.

He was disgusted with himself when he attacked Xion and brought her back to be destroyed. Why was Axel so upset with Saïx at the end of Days? Because he threw his morality away for him! Axel was willing to do anything for him. He was willing to kill innocent kids like Namine and Xion all for his sake. And at the end of the story Axel realized that Saïx didn’t even really love him anymore. Axel was more than happy to kill anyone if he thought Isa still loved him and appreciated the sacrifices he made for him.

He had been using the Organization for his own ends from the start. The only thing that had changed in the meantime was who it was all for. Maybe Saïx would call that a betrayal. But his world had changed.

But Axel realized that Saïx just used him as a murder tool to take out anyone who got in his way. He wasn’t even worried about him when he was at Castle Oblivion nor did he thank him when he returned. He took advantage of Axel’s devotion to him. That’s why Axel changed. It wasn’t like a My Little Pony episode where the power of Roxas and Xion’s magical friendship changed Axel. It was Axel’s own conscience. And yet, Axel still couldn’t bring himself to leave with Roxas at the end of Days. Even after Roxas left him the “Winner” stick. Because he was still attached to Saïx.

Axel: Look at what it’s come to. I’ve been given these icky orders to destroy you—if you refuse to come back with me.

Roxas: We’re…best friends, right?

Axel: Sure…but I’m not getting turned into a Dusk for…Wait a sec! You remember now!?

Roxas: Y…eah.

And Axel being a human test subject also seemed like the most reasonable backstory for him due to the way he seemed so…maladjusted. I was only 16 when I first played KH2. I was the same age as Roxas. And even then, the way Axel related to Roxas made me think that he had a really fucked up childhood. At first, Axel was willing to destroy Roxas, too. His “best friend”. In the original KH2, he seemed like he was just following orders because he was afraid of being turned into a Dusk. Which is still pretty screwed up.

“Say something. Have you even thought that maybe I can’t erase Roxas?” Axel said, in a playful tone, and Saix finally looked up. “It’ll be all right. Cause I’m tough.” Axel puffed out his chest.

“How stupid,” said Saix, and for a moment he smiled. “Let’s hurry up and prepare. Time is limited. The hero will wake up soon, too. I’ll send you in right in front of Roxas.”

“Okay.” Axel stood in front of the sending device. Saix rested his finger on the button. “I’m off the~n!” Waving to Saix, Axel’s figure disappeared.

But in the “Axel 7 Days” novel, you see that IMMEDIATELY before confronting Roxas about destroying him, Axel was looking at the white envelope and then flirted with Saïx. I hate the way the Axel/Roxas relationship was so misunderstood by the fandom. Why did Axel decide not to kill Roxas? IMO, it wasn’t because they were “best friends”.

It was because, once again, Axel was like “WTF am I doing? I’m trying to kill this innocent kid all so I can salvage my relationship with Saïx. I am a selfish piece of shit.” Why did Axel say that Roxas would have a next life, but not him? Because Axel knew what he was capable of and was prepared to do to him. Roxas was innocent. Axel was not. He had a lot of blood on his hands. He was not like Roxas. Roxas’s innocence is why Axel was so attached to him in the first place. But it was exactly why Roxas could never truly understand him. There will always be a part of Axel that he keeps hidden from Roxas.

On the sofa opposite him, Naminé spoke up instead. “Sora and Riku are best friends.”

Axel’s eyes crinkled as he remembered his own best friend—the only friend he’d ever had, in fact.

“If your best friend goes away, you’re sad, and if you get to be with them, you’re happy,” Naminé added. “Isn’t that how it is, Axel?”

“…That’s about the size of it.” Axel nodded and sat down on the remaining empty sofa, staring at the sea-salt ice cream he held.

“So you are capable of sincerity,” said Riku.

Axel only shrugged at the jab and finished his ice cream pop.

Even after he left the organization, Axel was still twisted. He was going to kill Kairi. And notice how it zoomed in on his tear mark. A bit of a hint about the true meaning of the upside down tears. IMO, the tears meant that Axel was willing to do absolutely anything to make his wish come true. And that was to be with his best friend forever. Saïx betrayed him and broke his heart. Axel decided to channel all of that grief and despair into his relationship with Roxas. He was now willing to kill innocent kids for his new best friend in order to forget about the old one. He was still selfish.

He only started to doubt himself when Kairi empathized with him.

And then he felt like shit and was disgusted with himself again. That was the last straw. Axel really doesn’t work as a character without a horrific backstory or being a killer. He just doesn’t. Being a twisted killer was fundamental to his story. And being a test subject was really the only things that could have made Saïx more sympathetic and redeemable.

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the-angriestpineapple · 4 years

Text

brewed & beards - ch 6

Kirishima tries to help Uraraka train when she asks, and he gets over his jealousy enough to actually become her friend.

Chapter Six - Genuine Kindness

One of Kiri’s favorite classes this semester is his nutrition class. He hadn’t been wrong when he told Uraraka the other night at pizza that nutrition was really important to him, and learning the science behind what made good food choices was fascinating. He even really liked his teacher, Professor Taishiro. The man seemed to always be eating something in class, jovially telling his students on the first day that as long as they cleaned up after themselves, he didn’t mind if they did the same.

Professor Taishiro was talking about macros and how they transfer into energy, and Kiri was totally listening, absolutely. He was only vaguely thinking about his resolution that he is unable to hate Uraraka. His mind wasn’t swarming with the petty part of him that still wants to hate her, but at the same time Bakugou has been nothing but rude to him and honestly he even seems pretty indifferent to his own girlfriend, would he really want that kind of partner even if he IS jaw-droppingly beautiful? It’s a stupid thought either way. Uraraka is a small, soft girl and I’m a big, muscular boy –

“Kirishima?”

Kiri starts and stares into the concerned face of his professor. A quick glance around the room tells him that he’s been sitting here mumbling to himself for long enough for class to have ended. Kiri swipes a hand down his face, wincing apologetically at the teacher. He’d woken up late today, very unlike himself, and barely had time to throw clothes on and make it to class on time. His red spikes take three minutes to set, not even counting the time it took him to sculpt them, so his hair was uncharacteristically limp around his shoulders.

Taishiro frowned at the boy. “Have you been feeling well, Kirishima? I’ve noticed that you were very distracted today. We do have a school nurse on campus if something is the matter.” Kiri’s cheeks flushed and he shook his head a littler harder than necessary.

“Ah, no, I apologize Professor. I’ve been distracted with some, uh, relationship troubles.”

Taishiro’s frowned deepened and he perched on the desk directly to Kiri’s left. “Relationship troubles. I’m not going to tell you how to live your life, you’re an adult now. But I would like for you to keep in mind that you are here at school to learn, and to build a foundation for a career. A very promising career, if my impression of you is correct.” He smiles kindly, and Kiri feels ashamed at how much he’s been letting this situation get to him. He makes a mental note to apologize to his other professors and to Mirio as well.

“I am so deeply sorry, Professor Taishiro.” Kiri immediately stands and deeply bows. “I promise to focus on school work from now on. You’re right, I shouldn’t be letting other people affect my future like this.”

His teacher chuckles and gently pushes him to stand upright. “I’m not trying to make you feel bad, Kirishima, I just want to make sure you know what is important. Now head on out, and have a good rest of your day.”

“Thank you, sir.” Kiri gathered up his books and gives another short, quick bow before heading off to an anatomy class. He really needed to get himself together.

---

He spends his lunch that day in the dorm room, eating some leftover rice with canned tuna. It’s a simple meal but a very comforting one for him, and he doesn’t mind the quietness of being in the dorm without Hanta and Denki. He loves them dearly, he truly does, but sometimes a guy just needs some peace and quiet.

He blinks as his phone goes off and he looks over to it. A text from an unknown number? He balances his bowl and chopsticks in one hand as he reaches to his phone to swipe the message open.

???: Hey Kirishima! It’s Uraraka, I meant to get your number when we were all out the other night but I forgot. Mina gave it to me, I hope you don’t mind! ;^^

Kiri didn’t mind in the least, really, he was totally okay with his friends being able to reach him if they needed to. And he considered Uraraka his friend now. He quickly typed back that it was absolutely fine with a smiley face.

Uraraka: Great! So I wanted to ask if you have time to help spot me at the gym tonight – Bakugou’s working and I’d really like to get some training in. If you aren’t busy?

Kiri smiled softly. He really had to admire her drive, it was inspiring. He said that he’d be at work tonight so he’d be able to help her train, no problem. She sent back a bunch of hearts and fist emojis, and it actually made Kirishima laugh. He was actually headed there once he finished lunch, so he let her know that and quickly shoveled the rest of his rice and tuna into his mouth. He brought the bowl to the bathroom to rinse it quickly – he didn’t want the room smelling like tuna – and then packed up his gym stuff to head out. A text from Uraraka said that she also had no classes this afternoon so she could meet him there.

The gym Kirishima worked at was only a few blocks over from campus. He actually had to pass the coffee shop to get there, and he couldn’t help peering in as he quickly walked by. He didn’t see Bakugou but he did see Mina and Jirou laughing about something behind the counter. He smiled. It always made his heart warm to see his friends happy.

He arrived at the gym and waved to the employee behind the counter (it wasn’t Ojiro today) and headed to the locker rooms. He dropped his stuff in an open locker and changed from his walking shoes to his gym sneakers, already wearing what he planned to work out in. He paused in front of the mirror as he headed out and looked at himself. He wore a tight fitted tank, loose gym shorts, and his hair was done up in his trademark spiked style. He grinned at himself, his mouth full of teeth that he’d always felt were slightly sharper than normal, and flexed. He was strong and he looked good, any bro would be lucky to have him! He gave his reflection a confident nod and strolled out into the main area of the gym.

“Oh, Kirishima! Hi!” He looked over to the weight area where Uraraka was already, waving a hand frantically and beaming. He returned her grin and jogged the rest of the way to her.

“You ready to get pumped, Uraraka?” He struck a pose, his fists clenched.

“Yeah!” She punched the air, reminding him a little of Mina. She giggled. “I brought along the plan that the trainer here gave me – that Bakugou wrote all over and changed – but I wanted to see what you think too.” He accepted the paper from her and skimmed it, eyes glancing over angry red scratch-outs accompanied by blurbs that said things like ‘waste of time, do this instead’ and other completely different instructions on there. Kiri winced.

“Well, it’s not that Bakugou’s suggestions are bad…” Uraraka’s face fell a little. “The just seem to be geared toward someone who is built more like him. Or me. Not so much like you. Actually, what the trainer suggested you start with is more on point for what you could be doing. How much can you bench press?”

Uraraka’s frown turned into a proud smile. “Fifty pounds so far! I want to be able to bench, like a hundred by the end of the school year.” She punched into the air again and Kiri grinned.

“Hell yeah, we can totally aim for that! Here’s what I think you should do. Lemme get some paper and a pen.” He went to the desk to grab them, and then he and Uraraka crowded around the sheets. He carefully re-wrote what the personal trainer initially put down for the most part, altering it slightly to include the lightest of Bakugou’s suggestions and a few suggestions of his own. No reason to completely piss the blonde off when he sees his girlfriend’s altered training plan. “Do you have a nutrition plan too? I know you said that you don’t really cook.”

Uraraka shook her head. “Um, not really. I basically either eat whatever is in the cafeteria or whatever Bakugou makes. He makes really good meals though, and rarely ever eats anything unhealthy.” Kirishima nodded, ignoring his heart flipping over Bakugou being health conscious. What a stupid thing to be attracted to.

“Well I imagine whatever Bakugou makes you is probably fine. As for the cafeteria…” He started writing down food pairings, Uraraka focused completely on what he was saying, and his professor’s words from this morning rang in his head about how he could have a very successful career of this. When he handed her the completed paper, she folded it gently like it was precious and tucked it into her bag. It gave Kiri a sharp spike of pride. “Alright! Let’s see how you handle that fifty pounds on the bench and see if we can up it a little today.”

“Sure thing! Let’s go!” Uraraka jumped excitedly and hopped over to a weight lifting bench, immediately going to start putting weights on the bar. Kiri couldn’t help but feel like he was definitely in the right career.

That feeling floated him through the rest of Uraraka’s training (they got her up to 55 pounds) and home to the dorm. He walked in to Mina regailing Denki and Hanta about how Bakugou had almost blown up their chemistry lab that day. It makes him laugh, and the sadness is less than he expected. He knows that he is strong enough for this to pass.

#bakugou katsuki #kirishima eijirou #kaminari denki #ashido mina #sero hanta #ojiro mashirao #hagakure tooru #taishiro toyomitsu #my hero academia #my hero academia au #college au #uraraka ochaco #bakugou x ochaco #eventual kiribaku #kiribaku #slow burn #bakugou x kirishima #kirishima x bakugou imagine

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lovemesomerafael · 4 years

Text

Others Like Me Chapter 16: Responsibility

Chapters 1 - 15 Read It On AO3

For @nephilimbecomedeviant because who am I to deny the swamp monster?

Barnes isn’t happy. He can see that Marya’s upset and preoccupied, and there’s no doubt in his mind what – or who – that’s about. He purposely hasn’t asked Jarvis if she’s visited Bucky. He’s sure she has, and even though it’s his job, he’d just rather not know at the moment. I know you wouldn’t let her get away with that, Stevie, but that’s what you get for dyin’ on me. Responsibility blows.

He finishes breakfast early and pours another cup of coffee to take with him down to the firing range. He’s in the mood to blast some shit. He’d brought Bucky down to the range the week before, and he can’t remember the last time he’s had such stiff competition. Clint can beat him, but only using arrows. Clint rarely uses guns. Barnes and Bucky have been down here three more times, and Barnes has really enjoyed having someone else to shoot against who – he has to admit, if only to himself – is as good as he is.

But he doesn’t invite Bucky today. He isn’t ready to see him. Barnes knows he’s all twisted up about Marya, and Bucky, and the rift that’s opening up among the Avengers over who Bucky is, and right now he really just needs to clear his mind. Target practice is the best meditation he knows.

So he’s not particularly glad to see Tony show up. Tony’s a fair shot, but it’s not what he does, he just thinks it’s fun. So he’s no competition. He also rarely comes down here, which means he’s here for A Reason. Shit. Barnes cannot get a break.

Tony sets up and gets a few shots in before, inevitably, he starts talking. “You seen Bucky today?”

“Nah. Why?”

“Just wondered. Thought I’d invite him up to my lab today, maybe.”

“Huh.”

There’s a long period punctuated by the sounds of firing before Barnes is empty and pushes the button to bring his paper target back to his firing booth to be replaced. It needs to be, because the holes in the forehead and center mass are the size of quarters, too big now to be a challenging target. Barnes isn’t satisfied with just hitting the right area, hasn’t been for years. He needs to hit the same bullethole every time.

Tony’s obviously been waiting for that, because he steps around the lane divider between their booths. “We gotta figure this out, Barnes.”

“Most of us already have,” Barnes sighs. “You and Natasha are the holdouts. What are you planning to do to him in your lab, play lousy music until he cracks?”

Tony’s voice is low-pitched and more serious than Barnes has heard him in a long time. “He could destroy everything we’ve worked for.”

“He hasn’t so far.”

“Yeah, the Mandarin hasn’t taken over the planet so far, either, but that doesn’t mean I’m gonna give him the keys to the tower. Fuckin’ take this seriously, would you?”

When Barnes looks up, Tony actually takes a step backward from the darkly fierce look in his eyes. He holds up his hands in surrender.

“Think about it,” Barnes says, low and growly. “How long do you realistically think you could keep me locked up in here? A day? A week? Your security is the best there is, Stark, and I could bust outta here in an hour. He’s been here three weeks. You been watchin’ him as close as me, you know he knows what’s holdin’ him in here. And he ain’t done a damn thing.”

“Maybe he’s not as good as you.”

“Maybe he is, and he’s not goin’ anywhere, because he’s got nowhere to go.”

“Barnes. There’s no way to know for sure. Ever. Are you really willing to risk all we’ve built – all Rogers built - for this guy?”

It takes everything Barnes has not to swing on Tony for trying to use Steve’s memory to pressure him. Tony can obviously see that, because he takes two steps backward this time.

“What are you suggesting? You gonna kill him? That why you’re inviting him to your lab?”

“I’m not gonna do that unless I have to. I’m just saying, we’ve worked our asses off to put the Avengers Initiative together, to keep ourselves invisible. Now is not the time to let down our guard.”

“My guard ain’t down,” Barnes says quietly, in a way that has Tony considering backing up another step. “Nobody knows who we are. Nobody knows we even exist. How’s this guy come in here knowing everything about us – names, histories, abilities, events even – if he isn’t telling the truth?”

“I don’t know. And that’s the bottom line, Barnes. We don’t know. And things are not getting better in the world, in case you haven’t noticed. We’re stretched to the limit, especially now. I’m sorry to keep reminding you about Rogers; I feel for you, I really do. But without him, I really don’t know how we’re gonna be able to keep taking on the Ten Rings.”

“Maybe we get a new team member.”

“Yeah, ‘cause people like us are so readily available.” Tony’s voice gets harsher and more pressured. He’s losing patience with this whole situation, and it’s making him very anxious, which he Does. Not. Need. “Maybe I’ll check the classifieds: Superhero needs a gig, flexible hours a plus. Has own cape.”

Barnes slams a new magazine into his Beretta and turns back to pin up a new paper target. Just as he’s about to push the button to run it back to the farthest distance, Tony startles him.

“Oh, holy fuck in a life raft.”

Tony’s tone causes Barnes to turn back to look at him.

“You mean him! You want us to make Bucky part of the team!” Tony’s not sure whether he’s more shocked or more disgusted.

“I didn’t say that,” Barnes shrugs. “But we could do worse.”

“I am not fucking hearing this.”

“Just think about it. Do whatever you gotta do, but think about it and don’t do anything permanent without talkin’ to the rest of us.”

“Unbefuckinglievable,” Tony mutters to himself as Barnes’s target reaches its destination.

*****

“I spent some time with this switch,” Tony says, not fooling Bucky for a second with his offhand tone. Tony’s sitting on a high stool in front of a long, cluttered workbench covered with a spectacular assortment of electronic odds and ends, turning the switch around in his fingers. Bucky stands nearby, nervously fiddling with what looks like dismantled small engines and robot parts.

“And?”

“And it’s been used. The same way Marya’s was. It has the same pattern of arcing. Yours had some energy dampeners hers didn’t, that’s why your landing was a little softer than hers -”

“Wait… My landing was softer than hers?“

“Hell, yeah. Not only did she get crunched – her leg bones cracked like eggshells - she also got burned. Not to mention that she crash landed within sight of Stonehenge and a whole busload of tourists saw it. Just lucky no one got video, and all the blood kind of camouflaged that hair of hers. Anyway, I gotta hand it to myself, I really am brilliant. This negative feedback loop with…” Tony goes on for quite some time, praising himself and whatever he’s found in the switch. Bucky listens, but not very hard.

“I don’t know what any of that means,” he says, when Tony stops to breathe and looks up at him. “I told you, I just followed the directions to make it. I understood maybe a tenth of our Stark’s notes, just enough to think it could work.”

“So you don’t agree with what I just said?”

“Stark, I don’t know what you just said.”

“Huh. Good. Because it was all bullshit. Now tell me about the trip. You flip the switch, and what happens? Be detailed, this is for science.”

Bucky rolls his eyes. “Ever been in a blender? Kinda like that.”

“What did you see?”

“Nothing.”

“What does that mean? It was all black? You couldn’t understand what you were seeing? What?”

“None of the above. I don’t think it was all black, I think I wasn’t seeing at all, if that makes any sense.”

“Huh. Hear anything?”

“Nope. I flipped the switch and then I was spinning so fast I was sure it was gonna rip me apart, and it damn near did. Hurt like a mother. And then I fell a long way and hit the ground in a different Singapore than the one in my universe. That’s all I know.”

“How long did it take? How long were you spinning?”

Bucky has to think about that. “I feel like… huh. I feel like it was almost instant, except that I also feel like the spinning went on for… I mean, it seems like I flipped the switch and then I was falling, with no time in between. But I also remember thinking ‘how long can this spinning go on before my limbs rip off?’”

“Interesting.”

“Oh, and I forgot about the fire at the end. I saw it, right when I could see again. Felt it, too. So, basically, first I was spinning, and then I was falling. First through fire, and then through way too fucking much air.”

Tony stares at Bucky for a long time, except he’s not really seeing him. Bucky’s been trained to read people, but he has no idea what Tony’s thinking, only that he’s thinking fast, although Bucky’s not sure how he knows that.

“OK. If I have any other questions, I’ll let you know.”

“Did I pass?”

“Huh?”

Bucky tilts his head. “C’mon.”

“All right, so I tried some technobullshit on you to see if you’d bite. But I really don’t have any idea how it feels to travel to another universe, so there’s no right or wrong answer there.”

“And that’s more bullshit.”

Tony raises an eyebrow.

“Don’t tell me you didn’t ask Marya all those same questions. What’d she say?”

“I’m sure you asked her that. You could just be parroting her answers.”

“Actually, I didn’t ask her. Which I’m sure you know, or can find out from Jarvis quick enough.”

Tony waves a hand. “Whatevs. Get outta here. I got work to do.”

“Uh-uh. Now I have some questions for you.”

“Which I will not answer. So how about we don’t bother.” Tony’s already turned away from Bucky and toward his workbench. He picks up something from the bench in front of him and starts to do something to it.

“Why are you keeping the Avengers secret?”

“It’s the Avengers Initiative, and if it was secret, you wouldn’t know about it.”

Bucky makes a face. “Huh. Avengers Initiative, huh? Where I’m from, that was an old name. Never stuck. They just called themselves the Avengers. And they’re not secret. Not at all. They get more press than you do. Which, what’s with that, by the way? I researched you, and you’re all over the press constantly. Except that guy and the one I see around here? Two different guys. It’s like you’re playing a part for the world.”

Tony turns around and Bucky endures another long period of scrutiny. Once again, he can tell Tony’s thoughts are racing, but can’t get a handle on what they might be. Whatever they are, Bucky’s surprised when they result in some answers.

“You’re just a guy, right, Bucky? Normal dude, normal parents, nothing unusual until someone made you something unusual, right? Shot you full of serum and gave you an uber-arm?”

Bucky shrugs. “I guess. I could fight before, shoot pretty good.”

“Me? I was a weird-lookin’, skinny nerd with way too much wired energy. Bruce? Same. Sam, Nat, Clint? Ordinary humans who were made extraordinary. Do you really think the world needs a bunch of us running around? That Mandarin freak is bad enough. And we’re having enough trouble with run-of-the-mill terrorists. You think we need the bad guys getting big ideas about making themselves into superhumans, too? That’s why the Avengers Initiative is secret.”

Bucky doesn’t respond, but he’s listening intently.

“Worse yet, you want governments getting that idea? Look at Rogers and Barnes. The U.S. government decided it wanted supersoldiers. Look what those two accomplished - what Barnes is still accomplishing - and there were only the two of them. It’s actually a damn good thing Erskine was killed when that facility in Brooklyn blew up creating them. God only knows what would’ve happened with a whole army of those guys. Well, you guys.”

“So you’re saying you keep the Avengers Initiative secret so no one will know that superhumans are possible? To keep the idea, and the means, out of the hands of the bad guys?”

“Among a litany of other reasons, yeah. You disapprove?”

Bucky thinks about that. “Be hard to argue, given the number of superhumans in my own universe. Because you’re right. They do cause trouble. But then, we don’t have the kind of terrorism problem you have.”

“Yeah, because your Stark found Jesus and became a pacifist or some shit, right?”

“Something like that. He’s not a pacifist, exactly. Just doesn’t make weapons anymore after he was abducted. By the Ten Rings, as a matter of fact.”

“Yeah, you said. You’re not gonna suggest that to me, are you?”

“Would you listen?”

“No.”

“Then I’m not gonna suggest it.”

Tony smirks. After that, an awkward silence falls.

“So, um… I’ll go. Thanks for answering my questions. Let me know what else you need. I really…” Bucky frowns as he searches for what he wants to say. “In my universe, Project Rebirth, that was just Steve. Me, I got my ass captured and experimented on. I was a very bad person for a very long time.”

“The way Marya tells it, you did very bad things for a very long time, but you weren’t really a person at all.”

“Yeah, well, Marya, she’s… She deals with all of that better than I do. The point is, I had a chance to use all the shit they did to me, what they made me, on the right side for once. And it felt good.”

“Uh-huh,” Tony responds warily, holding very still and suddenly watching Bucky like he’s an oncoming truck that may or may not be going to stop.

“Look, I wouldn’t trust me, either. Honestly, if I were you, I’d be voting to put me down. But I’m here, and I am what I am, so I’m hoping you’ll figure out a way to trust me, like you did Marya. Because I wanna keep fighting for the good guys. I wanna help your team.”

“Shit, you don’t ask for much, do you?”

Bucky just looks at him, conviction and naked craving in his face. For a long time, Tony doesn’t respond. When he does, Bucky’s stunned by the change in his demeanor. He’s never seen the Tony Stark from his universe look so… weighed down. Tony is always overconfident, always on top of every situation, even when he’s not. But in this moment, the Tony Stark he’s looking at seems almost lost.

“Do you know why I trusted Marya? It wasn’t because she sought me out. It wasn’t because she had the switch. It wasn’t me, at all. It was Rogers. He basically just announced that she was legit and we were bringing her on board. Just like that. I mean, we tested her like we did you, and I studied that switch like my life depended on it because, I mean, let’s face it. All of ours did. But in the end, it was Cap’s decision. And I could live with that.”

Tony sits, an elbow resting on the workbench, his mind a million miles away as he worries his chin with his fingers. Bucky waits, fascinated. He’s desperate for Tony to trust him, but he now understands that Tony’s never been simply cautious about Bucky. Tony’s panic-stricken.

“I didn’t ask for this gig, you know,” Tony goes on. His eyes have narrowed with concern, and they’re not focused on anything. He sounds pensive, melancholy. “I didn’t want it. I thought I did, at first, when the idea for the Avengers Initiative first came up. But then Rogers came along and bulldozed right over me with that all-American earnestness and all his jumping out of planes without a ‘chute shit. Man, I fuckin’ hated him! For all those years, we fought like horny badgers. I must’ve told him he was wrong and full of shit a million times. I resented the living shit out of him taking over my team. And now he’s gone, and you know what? The shit hits the fan and everyone looks to me, and I still find myself looking behind me. And there’s no one. And it scares me more than any monsters or aliens or whatever the fuck else you got in your universe. Because as much as I hated Steve Rogers sometimes, I’ll hate myself more if I fuck up the thing he gave his life for.”

Tony turns his eyes on Bucky. “So don’t push me, Barnes. Push me and I’ll waste you just so I don’t have to take the chance.”

Bucky nods in acknowledgment. Maybe he doesn’t know this Tony Stark, but he knows Tony Stark. Which means he’s entirely aware that Stark had no intention of saying any of that, certainly not to Bucky. What Bucky’s just heard is the human equivalent of the relief valve on one of those huge, old boilers that used to explode with sickening regularity back when every apartment building used steam heat. Bucky says nothing, because there’s nothing he can say. Besides which, he knows Tony well enough to know he’ll lash out if Bucky tries to offer any kind of support or understanding. He’ll also deny having said any of it if Bucky ever tries to bring it up again.

Hands in pockets, Bucky makes his way past shelves, workbenches, and robots toward the door.

“One more thing.”

Bucky turns around.

“I promised Marya that if you turned out to be a fake, she’d get to be the one to kill you. Don’t for one minute think I won’t give that order if I have to. Trusting you is hard. Not trusting you? That’s easy.”

Bucky nods again.

*****

Late that evening, Marya’s in the common room when Bucky wanders in. He’s not there for any particular purpose other than that he’s bored in his apartment and is just looking to see who’s around. She’s sitting in a deep chair, legs stretched out on an ottoman, a computer tablet in her lap. She looks up as he comes into the room.

“Hello, Bucky.”

“Whatcha doin’?”

She glances quickly down at her tablet. “I’m learning about Spain,” she says, a little wistfully.

“Huh. Do you want me to show you where the compound is? Or… where it would be?”

Marya thinks about that. After a moment, she says, “I don’t know.”

Bucky tilts his head and knits his eyebrows as he sits down on the ottoman by her feet.

“I thought about asking you to help me find the place on Google Earth, but I don’t know if that would make me feel lonely, when I look and it is just an empty piece of land.”

“I get that it would make you miss them. But why lonely? You’re not alone, you know.”

“Not exactly, but... They have each other. And here, I’m the only one-“

Bucky waits for her to continue, but she doesn’t.

“The only one what?”

“I was going to say that I’m the only one who is like me. Who was Hydra’s property, and did all of the evil things they trained me to do.” She looks up at him with a quirk of her mouth. “But I can’t really say that to you, can I?”

“Not exactly, no. Is it bothering you tonight?”

She hesitates, then looks up. “Sometimes I remember things. Today I saw a woman who reminded me of… something.”

Bucky puts his hand on her foot, trying to be supportive without crowding her. He tries to be gentle as he asks softly, “Wanna tell me?”

“Do you really want to hear what I did to that woman? Because they wanted proof that she was dead. So I… I brought them proof.”

Bucky just nods sympathetically and squeezes Marya’s foot. They stay like that for a minute without talking.

“I’m sorry, Bucky,” she finally says quietly. “For last night.”

“You don’t owe me an apology. I owe you one.”

“I’m the one who-“

“Look, let’s just not worry about it, OK? It’s not like there’s etiquette for this kind of thing.”

“I know, but I’m embarrassed.”

“Hey.”

She looks up into his eyes.

“This whole thing is so jacked up… I pushed too hard and you said no. We’re OK.”

“Thank you.”

Bucky stands. “I’m gonna go back to my rooms. Let you go back to Spain.” He grins and taps the screen of her tablet.

“Good night,” She says, looking at him a bit oddly.

“’Night.”

Bucky’s opening his door when he senses her behind him. He hadn’t realized she’d followed him from the common room. If he’s as silent as she is – and he realizes he almost certainly is - he now understands why people so often startle to find him near them.

“Hey. You ok?”

She frowns, searching for words. “I think there are women who pretend to feel what they do not, right? I don’t know what they’re called.”

“Nothing nice,” he says, letting the door swing open. “But I know what you mean.”

“I am not those women, Serg- Bucky. I don’t want to do that to you. But I come to see you, even when I’m not supposed to. And then I tell you that I don’t believe you. That I don’t think you could be my Sergeant. I am very unfair to you.”

He sighs. “Come in for a minute. Let’s talk about this.”

He doesn’t say anything else until they’re seated on his couch, in the same spots as the night before. Their legs are touching, but barely.

“Tell me why you come to see me. Do you know?”

“Yes,” she says softly, looking down. “It’s… Captain Barnes is not my Sergeant. I know that he is not. But you… You say that you are, and maybe, somehow, you could be. Even Mr. Stark can’t say that you are not. And that possibility, that tiny chance, is the closest I’ve been to my Sergeant in all these years.”

“That’s what I thought. And the thing is, Marya, I get that. I understand that’s how you feel. So, yeah, you’re right. I probably would tell you to take a hike if you were just some girl giving me mixed signals. But you got a right to be confused. Besides, it’s you. It’s hard sometimes, I won’t lie, but I still want to spend time with you, because at least we’re together.”

Suddenly, Bucky is rewarded for all his patience. All the time he’s been in Marya’s universe, he’s been aching to experience some things with her again, and what she does next is number two – maybe three, but definitely top five – on the list. She looks at him, brow furrowed, head just a bit tilted and a slight pout to her lips. “Why should another girl… I don’t understand. Why would you tell her to go hiking?”

Bucky bursts into laughter. There is no way to stop it, nor can he keep himself from throwing his arms around her. She hugs him back, and laughs a little, too, but it’s the nervous laughter of someone who doesn’t get the joke.

This. This, to Bucky, is the essence of who Marya is. She’s an assassin, plain and simple. She has every bit as much training and experience, just as much blood on her hands, as he has. She’s also entirely wanton and shameless in bed. At the very same time, she is this adorably naïve, this sweet, this tender. She’s a woman who has done things monstrous enough that she feels alone even among people with the kind of histories the Avengers have, and yet she’s embarrassed because of their almost-kiss.

“Oh, Marya, I’ve missed you!” He whispers fiercely, crushing her to him, forgetting to be concerned about the fact that she probably can’t breathe with her face smashed against him like that. “I love you so much…”

Marya stops laughing and goes rigid. She doesn’t move, or speak, and he doesn’t even think she breathes. Shit. He’s done it again.

Bucky lets her go immediately and moves away, so they’re no longer touching. “What is it? Was that not… I’m sorry-“

“No, it’s not the hug. It’s…” She looks almost frightened, but not quite. Her whole body is tense, and there’s a wildness in her eyes that he can see she’s fighting. “Captain Barnes. He doesn’t smell right.”

It takes Bucky a second to put that together with whatever’s happening at the moment. When he does, he lifts his chin a little and tilts his head, giving just the slightest nod of invitation.

Marya hesitates for a long time, her emotions showing clearly on her face, like they always have. She’s hopeful. And she’s afraid of that hope. But she’s also Marya, which means she leans in anyway, close enough that her hair tickles the side of his face as he hears her inhale softly.

Bucky is surprised by the near-sob that escapes her. She falls against him, pressing her face into his neck and grasping for him with her hand, clutching at his shirt as she fills her lungs with the smell of him. He’s a little relieved, actually. It’s been years. A lot has happened. But, apparently, he still smells like she remembers, because she’s got her whole face pressed into his neck now, inhaling him so hungrily that he’s just waiting for her to take an actual bite. Which he’d be fine with, really, because between the way she feels against him and her desperate whimpering, he’s suddenly ready to do some biting, himself.

It’s a long time before she sits back up and he can see her face. He lifts his hand and uses the backs of his fingers to wipe the tears on her cheeks.

“I told you,” he murmurs, leaving his curled fingers under her chin and smiling softly into her eyes. The pain that crosses her face hurts him, too.

“It doesn’t mean you’re him,” she whispers, but she’s not moving away. In fact, she’s reaching up to touch his face, teasing the tips of her fingers through his beard.

“Doesn’t mean I’m not,” he murmurs with the slightest teasing grin.

He waits. She’s leaning against him, with his metal arm around her, hand spread across her lower back, and her left hand bracing herself on his thigh, using her right hand to touch his face while she’s breathing him in. She dips her head again, scooting her body closer to him while she presses her face back into his neck just under his jaw.

Only this time, after rubbing her face against his neck for a while, she starts kissing him there, tiny pecks so light he can barely be sure he feels them, while her hand moves up his chest and into his hair. She gets bolder as she kisses up to his jaw, sliding her lips along his jawline, taking her time, until he feels a gentle tug at his hair to turn his face toward hers. He follows, and their lips meet.

Bucky feels almost paralyzed, even as every skyrocket he ever saw on Independence Day goes off inside him. He’s letting her kiss him, for now, softly and timidly, except that it’s not long before her breath’s coming harder and she’s using that hand in his hair to press his lips harder against hers.

He starts to kiss her back, his lips working with hers to see how many ways they can fit together, and that little moan she makes goes straight to his cock, which is why it’s not his fault he tightens his arm around her back and slides the other hand to her waist. Their kisses are deeper now, lips parted and it’s all Bucky can do not to lick into her mouth, but he needs to go slow, needs to be sure… He feels her pressing against him, lifting up just a bit for a little more leverage so he’ll get the idea and lie back, pulling her on top of him.

But he doesn’t.

Instead, he takes his arms from around her and puts a hand on each of her upper arms, pressing gently to separate them. When he can see her face, she’s flushed and almost panting, her pupils so dilated her eyes look almost black. She’s trying to move back in, encouraging him to continue kissing her.

“Marya, wait.”

She has to take a couple breaths before she can say, “No. Kiss me.”

“I need you to tell me that you know it’s me.”

“I don’t care right now. I want you.”

“Listen to me,” he says, and waits with his hands on her arms until she stops trying to kiss him and opens her eyes fully.

“I need you to be sure.”

“I’m sure. I want you.”

He chuckles a bit at that. “I mean, I need you to be sure who you’re kissing.”

Her eyes narrow in a flash of hormone-fueled frustration. “I am kissing you.”

“Marya. You know what I mean.”

“But I… Don’t you want me?”

Really? Bucky takes Marya’s hand from his hair and places it on his crotch, just long enough to ensure she can feel just how much he wants her, then lifts it to his lips. “Yes, sweetheart, I want you. But this is too important. I know how you feel about your Sergeant. And until you know it’s me, or I’m him, or… I’m me, then I think we gotta wait.”

He collapses against the back of the couch, half-crazy with desire and feeling like there’s some heretofore unsuspected dry, cruel, puritanical part of himself calling the shots right now. Lifting his hands up, he mutters to the ceiling, “I so better get a few years off my time in hell for this!”

“Bucky, I…” She shakes her head a little, trying to clear it, and yeah. He feels the same way.

“You’re not sure yet,” he says, smoothing a hand over that hair that he loves so much.

“I don’t know,” she whispers. “I think I know that you are him, and my body tells me that you are him, but…”

She pushes off the couch to begin pacing in front of it. As she speaks, with each sentence she talks more loudly and quickly, and the frustration she’s venting isn’t just sexual. It’s the whole situation. “None of this makes any sense! It’s all so complicated and it gets all twisted around and I can’t be objective about any of it! They were right to make me stay out of it. They were right to keep me away from you. Because you look like him, and you sound like him. Now I know you smell like him and you even fucking kiss like him, and I want you to be him so much I could tear this place apart with my bare hands and defy all of them to keep you with me. But I can’t know, and if I’m wrong, and you hurt people because I give in to what I want to be true…”

“OK,” Bucky says, standing, too, and moving slowly toward her. “OK. I know. And you’re right.”

When he’s standing in front of her, he says quietly, “So let’s just be patient a little longer.”

Her eyes narrow, and suddenly she finds an acceptable target for her annoyance. “Let me tell you something. If you are my Sergeant, I am going to be very, very angry with Captain Rogers.”

Bucky huffs a humorless laugh. “You’ll be welcome in that club,” he mutters. “Still. He did what he had to do. He needed to go home. And where we came from, we couldn’t have been together.”

“Bullshit! Then it wasn’t an option! And ‘home’ was Bucky! It was always Bucky! That’s what he said!” Marya hisses, suddenly gloriously angry on his behalf. “Don’t defend his actions. Don’t you dare! No matter who you are, don’t try to tell me that there is any universe where it is acceptable for Steve Rogers to leave Bucky Barnes like that. So he was homesick? Exhausted? Who isn’t? The Captain Rogers I knew loved his Bucky, and he was well aware of how much his Bucky loved him. He swore to me that he would never leave him. He said he couldn’t. So if your Captain Rogers was my Captain Rogers, then he is…”

She shakes her fists and shuffles her feet, too pissed off now to think of words bad enough. When she does, they’re really vile. They’re also in Norwegian, which has always been her go-to when she needs to curse especially vehemently. Bucky feels another surge of love for her and can’t help the small smile that turns his lips up at the corners.

“He did apologize.”

When she vents her rage at that, the dent Marya makes in the wall has actual marks of the individual knuckles in her fist. It also breaks at least two of her fingers. There’s a lot of blood.

They’re both a little shocked at what she’s done but, in a way he couldn’t possibly explain, Bucky feels her uncontrolled rage like a narcotic. Suddenly, his pain over what Steve did is bearable, if only just, and he feels a glow he hasn’t felt since before Steve told him he wouldn’t be coming back, all because Marya is this angry at what Steve did to him. She loves him, still. And she still pours her love over him like an inexhaustible tide, warm and sure and inevitable.

Bucky no longer has any doubt that he was right to come here. Already, Marya is soothing the wounds he’s suffered at Steve’s hands just the way she healed those Hydra inflicted. She doesn’t have to try, or even believe that he is who he says he is. All she has to do is be Marya.

She lets him lead her to the sink in the little kitchen area and put her hand under running water. He goes to the freezer and pulls out a cold pack he’d noticed there, returning to her side to dry her hand carefully with a clean towel. Once that’s done, he rests her hand on one of his, and holds the cold pack to her rapidly-swelling fingers with the other while he leads her to sit back down next to him on the couch.

There are tears in her eyes when she looks up at him. That doesn’t surprise him; she’s furious and she’s just broken some of her fingers. But there’s also a trust in her eyes he hasn’t seen since their last night together in their own universe.

“Let me stay with you tonight,” she whispers.

“Not until-“

“No, I know. I’m not asking to have sex. Let me sleep here, with you. You know it’s different for me; sleeping together is… warmth, and caring, and safety. I haven’t given you any of that since you’ve been here.”

“That’s not true. But I would love for you to sleep with me.” They smile at one another while she wipes her tears. “On one condition.”

“I know what you are going to say.”

“It’s not negotiable. If you try anything, I’ll make you sleep in your own bed. Will you behave?”

“Yes,” Marya answers, her mouth halfway between a pout and a smirk. “But I will not want to.”

It’s hard for Bucky to just enjoy her presence and her warmth, keeping his desire for Marya clamped down tight. Especially when they’re lying in each other’s arms, with her head tucked under his chin and her breath soft against his neck where she can surround herself with his scent. He almost tells her she has to leave if she can’t stop it with those small, happy, sighs that keep bringing tears to his eyes, but he can’t make himself do it. He knows that, if she left his bed now, he’d last about three minutes before he’d be knocking on her door, begging her to let him into her bed.

They actually fall asleep, even if it takes a long time for both of them. But it’s only a few hours before they’re awakened by the shriek of the Assemble Alarm.

#The Avengers #Captain America #The Winter Soldier #Bucky Barnes #Tony Stark #Sebastian Stan #Robert Downey Jr.#Natasha Romanoff #Clint Barton #Sam Wilson

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hellzyeahwebwieldingreviews · 4 years

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Untold Tales of Spider-Man 06: The Doctor’s Dilemma – by Danny Fingeroth

An unexpected gem!

Dr. Bromwell grabs Peter by the arm and tells him he must talk to him about "his double life." But Bromwell hasn't stumbled on Pete's secret identity. He's talking about the dangers Pete gets into as a Daily Bugle photographer. He asks Peter, for May's sake, to give up the job. Although Peter has worried about the dangers himself, he stiffs Bromwell, saying "I'd appreciate it if you'd mind your own business, Doctor." Regretting every word, Peter goes into an unfair critique of Bromwell and a defense of his photography work. Taken aback, Bromwell gives Pete a new prescription for May and heads toward the door. Peter calls him back and apologizes. He tells him he has considered the dangers but still thinks the reward is worth the risk. Once Bromwell leaves, Peter changes to Spider-Man, eventually web-swinging to the pharmacy to fill May's prescription.

Back at his office, Bromwell can't stop thinking about Peter. Suddenly, he gets a brainstorm. He wants to give Peter a job in the sciences instead. First he goes to Metro Hospital and talks to Dr. Gordon, who saved May's life after Spider-Man brought in the needed ISO-36 (in Amazing Spider-Man #33, February 1966). Gordon reveals that, shortly after Spidey left, a beaten and bruised Peter appeared. Bromwell doesn't know what kind of deal Peter has with Spider-Man but he suspects the web-slinger is taking advantage of him.

Out web-slinging, Spidey comes upon "an eight-foot tall, four-foot wide gent in the green spandex suit" who is trashing an armored car. He is also "amazingly fast and as strong as the Hulk." When Spidey asks for a name, the giant comes up with "Impact," revealing that he volunteered for an experiment involving radioactive steroids (a combination just asking for trouble) for which he never got paid. Now paying himself in his own way, Impact slams Spidey against a wall and escapes.

The next day, Bromwell makes a house call and finds Peter all battered and bruised. He offers Pete a job in his own office helping with his research and lab work. Peter accepts. Aunt May overhears this conversation and is wracked with guilt for letting Peter risk his life taking pictures simply because they desperately needed the money.

So, Peter goes to work for Bromwell. There he researches steroids and finds out that Impact is Walter Cobb, a family man whose mind was warped by the experiment. As the days go by, Peter works at Bromwell's office, just missing catching up to Impact at his various crime scenes. Finally, Bromwell is called to the ER to help treat some victims of Impact's latest assault. As he leaves, Bromwell asks Peter to not go out for news photos. But Peter has to go out to stop Impact. Arriving at the scene,he finds Impact holding two hostages. The police bring out Impact's wife and kids to plead with him. It appears to work, with Impact releasing his hostages. Peter starts imagining a day when his work with Bromwell will lead to greater things than his web-swinging. Then a shot rings out and Impact goes on the rampage again. Spidey tries to calm him but he is too far gone. After pounding on the wall-crawler for a bit, Impact collapses. Bromwell is on the scene and pronounces the giant dead. As Spidey swings home, he reflects on it all. "Bromwell tells me that I should think about my aunt – like I don't do that enough. Impact shows me that there's a right way and a wrong way to try to help those you love. All these lessons! But...what am I supposed to learn from them? Where's the curriculum? Where's the syllabus?"

A great ending, right? But, oops, there's more! On his way home, Peter realizes that he could be as dead as Impact and decides to give up the webs. But at dinner, Aunt May tells him to keep doing what he's doing if it's what he wants to do. The next day, Bromwell waves the Daily Bugle at Peter, indicating the front page photo Pete took, and tells him he let him down, abandoning his lab work for the very work he begged him to avoid. He tells Peter that he has done all he can and that he's letting him go from his job. Pete can tell that Bromwell is hoping he will ask for another chance but Peter doesn't. He has come to completely understand that he does not become Spidey for thrills but to help people and that Uncle Ben and Aunt May would approve if they knew. Or, as he puts it, "Love the power. Guess I'll just have to live with the responsibility."

Had you told me that a Spidey story (and a prose story at that) about Doc Bromwell witten by Danny Fingeroth was going to be cracking I’d have never believed you.

Fingeroth’s body of Spidey work is a mixed bag to put it kindly. This is the man who wrote arguably the single best page of Mary Jane ever in Web of Spider-Man #6, eloquently summing up her emotional conflict regarding her romantic feelings for Spidey. But this is also the man who editorially mandated the creation of Maximum Carnage.

And yet here he doesn’t make a single misstep.

Okay that isn’t exactly true. His opening narration makes Peter sounds like a goddam psychopath. “Love the power. Hate the responsibility.” Er….that’s not exactly true, Peter has moments of enjoyment of his power and frustrations over the burdens it places upon him. But he doesn’t truly revel in his power and typically treats his responsibilities as simply something that HAS to be done moreso than something he resents doing. But that’s nothing compared to “…to take what I need. And to make anybody who gets in my way real sorry they got there.”

WTF dude! I was half expecting that the twist here was going to be that this wasn’t Peter speaking but it was. Fingeroth nicely bookends these sentiments by the end of the story but that doesn’t change the fact those sentiments shouldn’t be there in the first place.

You can maybe just handwave this as Peter being in a really bad mood and not believing what he is thinking. But I dunno, I suspect the real intent here was to clumsily set up something to BE bookended by the end of the story and more poignantly to smack the readers in the face with the central theme of the story. This lack of subtly rears its head again towards the end of the story when Fingeroth seriously spells out for us that Impact is a dark reflection of Spider-Man and the exact ways how. Everything the dialogue says is correct and Impact is actually a very good reflection of Spidey. But couldn’t Fingeroth have been a tad more subtle about it?

But other than that this story unto itself is pretty much flawless. I say unto itself because through no fault of Fingeroth the story’s placement withint he anthology is kind of weird. It clearly takes place after ASM #33 as there are very direct references and fallout from the Master Planner Trilogy. However the nature of the story also makes it highly unlikely to take place after ASM #39 because in that issue Peter is shaken by Bromwell informing him of just how frail Aunt May is. He pretty much tells Peter that if May learns his secret she will keel over dead. So this happens between ASM #33 and #39 but the Looter story clearly happens after ASM #36. Whilst far from inconceivable that this story could happen afterwards, because the last story with the Goblin was obviously tipping the hat to ASM #39-40 this story would’ve been better placed just before the Looter story. As is it’s oddly the THIRD story in this book to take place in this extremely small and specific gap of time after ASM #36 but before ASM #39.

Enough of the nitpicks though. I said this story was a gem and I stand by that.

What pleasantly surprised me most about this story was that Fingeroth seemed to be able to handle the prose format better than every other writer thus far sans perhaps DeFalco.

He wisely knows to emphasis the inner conflicts within the characters’ heads and play up the soap opera rather than leaning in on the action setpieces.

And yet there are two significant action set pieces in this story. Indeed the crux of the whole story REVOLVES around the physical danger Peter puts himself in by going into action. Fingeroth handled these deftly. The action wasn’t over explained and painted a clear picture in your head but didn’t linger too much. Sure you might feel things would be more interesting if you could actually see things but you aren’t drifting off as the writer belabors the combination of punches and kicks Spidey lands. It’s all very streamlined and designed to support the emotional arc of the story as opposed to the action being the point unto itself or simply the means to REACH a conclusion.

In this regard Fingeroth actually edges out DeFalco. Reading/listening through DeFalco’s story the action scenes can just be boiled down to Spidey fights some thugs, drags out the fight for pictures and then one them accidentally dies the specifics don’t matter even though we do get them.

Here Fingeroth forgoes the specifics to simply give you the broad beats to the fight (Impact throws a car, Spidey webs people to safety, etc) whilst ensuring he returns to Spidey’s inner thoughts and peppering in dialogue that is moving the plot and exploring the themes, even if it is simply lightly.

In a way this is a rare example of an action set piece that works BETTER in prose than it would visually. Sure Mark Bagley or Ron Frenz could embellish the fight scene to make it look cool, but the visions of a possible future Peter imagines are more potent and organic when we simply read his train of thought like this. Were it a comic such dialogue would come off as excessive or (if communicated through art) needlessly existential. Additionally as a villain goes Impact is fairly generic, but having him not have any visual presence mitigates that because his importance is more about what he is doing and why than having a dynamic appearance.

To go back to Bromwell, he’s developed more here than he’s been in over 55 years of Spider-History. Were he written like this in his appearances he might’ve become a more beloved character. What’s great is how organic his personality feels. We learn new stuff about him but it feels like a totally logical extrapolation of what little we saw of him in the 1960s. He is a quintessential doctor and Fingeroth lends him a surprising amount of nuance. He isn’t endlessly caring, he has his limits but even so the fact that he wanted Peter to ask him for a second chance at the end was a brilliant touch. It’s a small moment but it helps make Bromwell feel more multidimensional.

And because of this characterization the story earns the pathos of Peter letting him down. You feel sad for Bromwell and for Peter that things didn’t work out for both of them.

Aunt May is also done very well here. She is in typical Aunt May mode but Fingeroth chooses to make that the central conflict of the story rather than a background element. Refreshingly though the issue isn’t that May is on her deathbed, but rather the impact (if you pardon the pun) upon her if anything happens to Peter. The story is almost a spiritual cousin to JMS’ opus ‘the Conversation’ in that it comes to a reasonable and positive resolution.

What in particular what holds this all together is the brilliant (yet rarely used) idea of treating Peter’s cover story as Spidey’s photographer as a metaphor for him being Spider-Man. It’s something that’s pretty clever when you think about it because the cover story means his loved ones go into relationships with him knowing he takes risks and potentially endangers them, just as if they knew he was Spidey.

Through treating the cover story as a metaphor Fingeroth is able to have Peter get a lot of feelings about being Spidey off of his chest. This chiefly comes in the form of his bookeneded confrontations with Bromwell, his angry (and highly unjustified) outburst at the start and his quiet resigned acceptance at the end.

Perhaps the best bi of narration in relation to Peter’s character was when Fingeroth spelled out that Peter might enjoy being Spidey but even if he didn’t he’d do it anyway because he was hooked on helping people. It eloquently emphasis the innate heroism and core of the character. And it does so in a nuanced way too as too often writers have Peter outright hate being Spider-Man or else cynically lean on the idea he’s a thrill junkie of some kind. Fingeroth gets that peter DOES like his work but that isn’t the reason he does it.

Nuance is actually the key word here. There is a lovely sequence where the story acknowledges that Peter might subconsciously be avoiding Impact out of a loss of confidence. It plays very realistically. How often in life has one bad moment shaken us up and made us hesitant to do things we previously did without even thinking about it.

Really I don’t know what else to say about this story that isn’t self-evident by just experiencing it for yourself.

Tiny issues aside it’s really quite excellent and highly recommended.

#Spider-Man #Untold Tales Of Spider-Man #Danny Fingeroth #Tom DeFalco #Peter Parker #Aunt May #May Parker

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ellipsesarefun · 6 years

Link

A/N: for @cosmicdusttrails!!!!!!!! hope you enjoy this piece!!!! :D

It's ten minutes to four in the afternoon and the classroom is already empty when Lance finishes his advice (if you call his stupid goofy face and being in too close to someone else's space the summary of his own guide to charming people). Goofball and all that she adores about him, Pidge should have bought those cheap earplugs during her and Lance’s grocery day the week before.

"And that concludes my TED Talk. Thank you for listening." Lance says as the four of them saunter through the hallway, giving an overly dramatic bow for effect. Pidge glances up to the two of them and then turns to share her exasperation with Keith. They both shake their heads and sigh before Keith chiming in with a, "You do know that being yourself is important, right? Hunk can say to Shay whatever he wants." Pidge nods along to his words and darts her gaze back at Lance. The said person narrows his cerulean eyes at them.

"And what do you know about romance, hm, Keith?" Lance retorts as he crosses his arms over his chest and careens his head away from them. Pidge barely stops herself from rolling her eyes. She hopes her boyfriend doesn’t instigate any further argument from mullet of a loner, lest they’ll be standing around for the rest of the day.

"Obviously more than you, seeing as he's in a blooming romantic relationship with a wonderful charming guy." Her lips curve into a smirk when his nonchalant bravado falters with a mocking gasp. They pass through the school gates and they pick up the conversation once more.

"Shiro doesn't count!" Lance says, waving his arms around, "Shiro's Shiro!" The other three all grace him with deadpanned expressions and he ignores them, adding with his ridiculous puppy pout, "And what about me? Back me up Pidge! You’re my girlfriend!" He exclaims. He keeps that utterly stupid puppy pout with added emphasis. Both of them know by now her weakness to it (and she absolutely hates it).

“Boyfriend or no, Lance, you’re a goofball.” She says, laughing, “You can’t even stay put during that one TED Talk seminar a month ago and you couldn't keep your eyes open through the second one!”

"But you love me anyway." He teases, his capricious gaze unrelenting. She doesn't fight the roll in her eyes but the growing smile on her face tells them all that she's smitten.

"Goofball." Not even a comeback but a reply no less. He only laughs.

"But I'm your Goofball." He bumps his elbow against hers and she does the same with unwavering euphoria.

"That doesn't make any sense at all." Keith says and she suddenly she regrets forgetting that he and Hunk are still with them. If she could just drench those beautiful ocean eyes and goofy grin in acid rain, then maybe Lance wouldn't be this distracting.

"And also, it's obvious that Shay likes Hunk too." Pidge remarks, making sure Lance hangs on to her every word, "So even if he were to say something as disgusting as those rare and wild arthropods in some unknown island or talk science then yes. She'll like him anyway." And that is the inevitable, undeniable, and absolute truth. Hunk and Shay are lucky to have each other.

She glances off to the impending sunset, of watercolor-like sky fading from blue to still light scattered blots of red and orange. She immerses herself in the swirl of vorfreude of a certain tall, lanky someone with a wonderful handsome grin and cuddle sessions while playing video games until the dreadful 4am hour. She looks back at the road ahead of them and saves the thought for later.

They finally met an intersecting road and they all bid each other goodbyes. Both Hunk and Keith part ways, Keith at the apartment building at the end of the intersection and Hunk at the far left. Lance and Pidge link arms with laced hands as they cross the pedestrian lane of an empty street.

Two years ago, at the start of their college freshman term, she would have blanched at the mere notion of them sharing the same apartment unit. They were mutual friends of Hunk and Allura. They had not been around the other in their high school years as much as they do right now, not to mention that awkward crush she had on Lance then.

It took a momentum of switching chores here and there; study sessions with a break hour of video games, squabbling over what to buy for their weekly grocery shopping to become more than acquainted to their living arrangements. A confession and three dates later, Pidge realized that nothing much has changed. Sure, they’ve developed new set of habits, such as lounging around in only their shorts and underwear (sometimes it’s either of them and sometimes it’s both), have become familiar with each other’s random likes and dislikes, but there didn’t seem like some exponential difference, as though this has been designed long ago. As sappy it may seem (and she will never admit this out loud any time in five years), she and Lance seem to fit...

"Hey," Lance voice breaks her away from her reverie after a minute of walking , "How about for our anniversary dinner, I make some pasta and beer tonight?"

Pidge grins. "Sure, and I'll pick a series marathon?"

Lance flippantly waves a hand, "Psh, only if it's Voltron!" Their fingers tighten their hold and then the whole conversation shifts back to their own mundanity of homework, lab class gossip, and their friends. By the time they arrive at their apartment, she makes her way to her room while Lance heads to the kitchen to prepare their dinner.

From out her window, she lingers at the gleaming sunset, nostalgia creeping into her train of thought. She kneels beside her bed and slides out from under it a worn out shoe box tied in green ribbon and a lock. It's been quite a long time since she's added another missive. Just how many sunsets she's contemplated while writing one? Too many to count from the emotion it emanates. She had stopped on their first date, as they intended to be as a coven of clandestine confessions before they started out a romantic relationship. Still, it is strange to give them all to him at once and even stranger that she never did.

Pidge pulls out a key from her pillow and unlocks it. She reaches a hand to unwrap but hovers the moment she touches the fabric. It's already old and worn from the creases and not a single dust or cobweb in sight.

Maybe... It wouldn't be so bad to show him this. It's their anniversary after all.

She goes back out with the box in one arm and slowly saunters over to their small round dining table, where two sets of empty plates and utensils arranged parallel to each other along with a platter of rigatoni with sausage and fennel, and a small bowl of cheese sticks at the center. She finds him with two bottles of beer as she places the box on the table. His eyes flick towards the object in an unspoken question.

“Happy 2nd Anniversary, I guess?” She flashes a sheepish smile and a shrug. With the tip of her fingers, she slides it to his side of the table and watches as he takes a seat and unwraps the present slowly and delicately. He pulls the lid off, revealing several colorful stationary envelopes, each in meticulously tied in string and with his name written in neat cursive. He takes one with a trembling hand, shock eminent in his features.

“This is…” He trails off, noting the dates on each envelope “Were these…?”

“They were meant for you, before we got together, actually… At this hour or so, I’d take the time to write you a little something. I don’t do them every day, but it’s… a lot.” She looks down at her fiddling fingers, staring at the lines on her hand, “I never really gave them to you, did I?”

“You’re giving all to me now, that’s important.” He reaches for her hand and she follows with hers, lacing their fingers, “Thank you, Pidge.”

“No problem, Lance.” She says.

This is probably the sappiest she’ll ever get today but she doesn’t care. Seeing him like this is worth it.

[EXTRA]

“Wow… I had no idea you’re this sappy, Pidge. Where’d you get all these lines?”

“My brain, you goofball.”

“And you just had to write a letter in an old receipt? And your old notes? Really?”

“What? I thought it was an aesthetic thing or something?”

“….you were just lazy, weren’t you?”

“Yea… ran out of fancy stationary so I had to make do.”

“yea, but you could’ve chosen something that doesn’t have numbers in it…”

“Like I said, aesthetic.”

#plance #pidge #lance #katie holt #voltron #ellipsesarefun writes

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sabraeal · 6 years

Note

More of A Slip of the Tongue, because Ryuu casually calling them mom and dad is the happiest thing to ever happen to me.

Kirito’s half hanging out of the window when he says, “It’s a little funny.”

“It’s been weeks.” Ryuu rubs at his head, agitated, trying not to watch whatever death-defying trick he’s gleaned off of Obi this week. “And Jirou told me he’d ‘tell my father abut this’ when he saw me walking back from the lab last night. The guards were laughing.”

Kirito makes a sound suspiciously like a snort. “C’mon, it’s been two weeks, and nothing ever happens here.”

Ryuu hunches over his desk, grumbling, “Well I wish it would.”

It hadn’t helped that Obi was waiting for him this morning, mouth set in concern. The whole way to the lab he’d gently reminded him that sleep was important, especially for growing researchers. Ryuu had to bite his lips to keep from pointing out that guard captains needed the same.

“Maybe someone will fall off the wall,” Kirito offers brightly. “That always gets tongues wagging.”

He rolls his eyes. “One can only hope. Now come back and close the window. Science takes a consistent room temperature, and you’re letting in a draft.”

“But Obi –”

Ryuu fixes him with his most Shirayuki-like look of disappointment. “Well, if you want to explain why Shirayuki’s stones didn’t crystallize –”

“Yeesh, I’m coming, I’m coming.” Kirito scrambles back, closing the window with a rusty screech. Suzu will have to look at that when he gets back from –

“Oh hey now.” Kirito pressed himself against the glass, nose pressed comically flat. It was too bad there was no chance of anyone seeing it, four stories up. “Looks like you’re about to get your wish, Little Ryuu.”

He glares at Kirito for the nickname, but squeezes in beside him, peeping through the glass, and –

And blue-and-white banners snap in the breeze, just above where a young man with white hair has swung off his horse, two aides at his back.

Oh no. Oh no no no. This is –

Kirito cocks a grin. “The prince is here for an official visit.”

– a disaster.

The next morning finds Ryuu in his office, wearing a groove in the floorboards.

It’s Friday, and Friday is journal day, as per his request four years ago, when he first saw the state of Suzu’s lab notebooks. While both his lab mates – and their assistants – bear the event with an air of noble suffering, Ryuu revels in it. He closes his door, cozens under his desk, and sets to replicating his scrambled notes neatly in his notebook, enjoying the scent of parchment and leather as he works. Sometimes, he doesn’t even get disturbed until dinner.

Today, however, it makes him a sitting duck.

There’s no reason to be so worried – it’s not as if anyone would tell Prince Zen; they know he’s friends with Obi and Shirayuki, but it’s rare that outsiders are brought in on the jokes that the Northerners share when the snow falls and work slows. But still – it would be all too easy to slip, for a guard to say tell Ryuu’s dad that he has the midnight shift, or go bring Little Ryuu to his mother, or – something worse. His imagination is white noise, but that does not make the dread any less real.

He tries to force himself to work, to sit up at his desk and order his notes into something approaching consistency, but his hands shake; when he tries to hold a pen, it trembles from his grasp.

That is ridiculous. It was – a slip of the tongue. It didn’t mean anything, and a man like Prince Zen would know that. There’s no way he would feel threatened by the – the subconscious feelings of an adolescent. It’s not like he was saying –

“Ryuu!” The door bursts open, and his papers take flight.

The prince stands in the midst of his office as notes fall like flakes from the rafters, as if they stand in a snowglobe that’s been tipped. Zen might as well be a painted figure for the pose he cuts, hands on his hips and eyebrows upraised. It would only make sense; whenever Ryuu stood in his presence, the feeling of unreality clung to the moment: a prince taking interest in a little orphan boy, just like out of a fairy tale.

“Prince Zen,” he breathes. “Are you looking for Shirayuki? We don’t share offices anymore. I think she’s in a meeting with Shidan, but hers is just –”

“Oh, no, Obi already told me.” His smile is perfect and white and kind, but it only sets Ryuu more on edge, makes him wonder more what a prince was doing in his office. “I came to see you.”

Ryuu swallows hard. “Me?”

“Yes, you!” the prince laughs, as if he could not fathom how Ryuu might not know the level of his esteem. “I thought we all might have dinner tonight.”

“A-all?” He winces, thinking about a grand hall, chairs filled to a man, Ryuu up on a dais –

“Yes, you, me, Obi and Shirayuki.” He seems excited by the prospect. “A private dinner, with just all of us from Wistal. No Mitsuhide or Kiki this time, of course.”

Wistal is a small, quiet office with the window open, Higata struggling with pots heavier than he can carry, and Garrack peeking down at him with soft eyes and oh-so-quietly closing the curtain. It isn’t the prince and his aides, not to him.

There’s no good way explain. No way that isn’t insulting at least, and Ryuu does appreciate the prince’s good will toward him, his solicitousness when it comes to Ryuu’s academic growth.

It is just impossible for him to shake the feeling that it only endures because of his relationship with Shirayuki. As if he is some – some younger sibling, destined to be forgotten and ignored as soon as the romance ends.

If the romance ends, he reminds himself. It’s been six years; time enough for hearts to change, if they were going to.

“Sure,” he grunts with a nod. “Of course.”

The prince claps his hands, pleased. “Great! Tonight, then? My quarters?”

“Ah.” He makes himself busy with picking up his notes, so the man doesn’t see his grimace. “Yes. Sure.”

“I heard my mother is sending your proposal on to the Council of Lords,” Zen offers, during a friendly lull in conversation.

It’s all been fond memories of Wistal until now; ones Ryuu didn’t share, but were pleasant to listen to as he ate. He’d laugh in the right places, and the conversation would carry on without him, and it was – nice. Not as fine as eating with just Obi and Shirayuki, but good enough.

But of course, it’s not to last.

“Um, yes,” he murmurs, eyes darting over the table for something to anchor him. The salt doesn’t grab his attention, nor the other serving dishes, but Obi lays a hand flat on the table, and that – that holds him. “She is.”

“That must have been some presentation!” Prince Zen’s mouth opens wide in a smile, and oh – oh no – he doesn’t know what he’s invited, saying something like –

“The presentation was brilliant,” Shirayuki gushes, at the same time Obi loudly brags, “Ryuu is the youngest to ever present in front of Their Majesties.”

He covers his face, but it does nothing to muffle the conversation; Obi and Shirayuki boasting about a humiliating number of his academic exploits while the prince sits quietly, making the right sounds in the right places.

“One of the old men at the university tried to challenge his work the other day,” Obi begins, in that broad way he has when he’s settling in to tell a story, and Ryuu groans. “And he –”

“He means one of the chairs at the university,” Shirayuki interjects. “He was trying to disprove Ryuu’s theory on root systems –”

“Right, he had some problem with the way Ryuu was talking about roots.” He wishes he could will himself into nothingness, rather that have to listen to this. “And Ryuu, he goes right up to him, in the middle of his lecture –”

“It was a forum.” Shirayuki’s voice lifts with excitement; she’s never had much love for the herbology chair. “He’d called it to correct Ryuu’s research, there were nearly five hundred people there, almost all of them in upper level research –”

“Right, so in front of all these smart-types, Ryuu comes in, carrying something like a hundred pounds of books –”

“He’d taken out every book on root systems in the library –”

“And he just told the old man off right there, in front of everyone!”

“His rebuttal was elegant,” Shirayuki told the prince, pride thick in her voice. Ryuu’s heart clenches at the sound. “Not a person left without thinking Ryuu’s theory was the next step forward on plant proliferation.”

“You know I prefer fists when it comes to fights, Master,” Obi says, “but I couldn’t have been prouder than if Ryuu punched the old man him –”

“Obi,” Ryuu cries out, of only to stop him. He can’t take all this – this attention.

The table goes utterly silent. Ryuu drops his hands.

The prince stares at him with a strange face. “Dad?”

Aaaargh.

He casts his gaze over at Obi, trying to – to ask for help, or – or something, but he –

He is staring down at his plate with something akin to wonder, akin to pride, akin to – to–

Heartbreak.

“Obi?” he tries, but it’s swallowed up by the prince’s laugh, by his booming, “I didn’t know you were so old as to have a son, Obi.” He turns thoughtful. “Though if all your boasting is true, you certainly sowed your wild oats enough.”

Shirayuki frowns. “Zen…”

Obi’s face stutters, mouth passing through a grimace before he lets out his own laugh. “Well, Miss always said: I may joke, but I never lie.”

She glances at him, wary, but Obi’s face is as bright as it ever is. Ryuu wonders if she can see it’s a mask, if she can see the way it’s peeling and cracking at the edges. It’s always been Shirayuki who could see these things, but – but –

Prince Zen is so dazzling, she’s too often blinded by his presence. Ryuu presses his lips together, hands fisting beneath the linens.

“Well, if Obi is the father,” Zen chuckles, swiveling his head to Ryuu. “Then who is the mother?”

He shouldn’t – he shouldn’t say anything – hadn’t he been so worried about this just hours ago? – but –

But he raises his gaze to Shirayuki’s face, flushed and frowning, and says with pointed ease, “I don’t know, I guess.”

Ryuu doesn’t read faces easy, at least ones that don’t belong to Obi or Shirayuki, but he sees the suspicion take hold on Zen’s at the same time resolve sets on Shirayuki’s.

“Zen, I don’t think…” She clears her throat. “You shouldn’t joke. Obi…”

Her face flushes, not from the wine this time, and she says, “He would be a really good father, I think.”

“Is.” The word is out of his mouth before he can think, but –

But it’s worth it, to see the look on Obi’s face.

Shirayuki sees it too. “You’re right,” she says, so softly, “he is a good father.”

Zen’s gaze darts between the two of them. “I…see.”

In the silence that follows, no one able to lift their gazes from the table, Ryuu wonders if they all are beginning to.

“Well!” Obi leaps to his feet, dish in hand. “I should – should go. I have the morning shift, you know, wouldn’t do to go to bed late and wine-drunk.”

Shirayuki half-stands to follow. “Obi –”

He holds up a hand, and his smile is – is pained. “No need, Miss. You and Master enjoy dessert.” He shifts his gaze to Ryuu, lips pulled tight. “Come on, Little Ryuu. Help your father with these.”

“O-of course.”

When they close the door behind them, arms laden with dishes, the room is still silent, still thick with something.

Obi lays an assuring hand on his shoulder. “Don’t worry, Little Ryuu. They’ll work things out.” His face is too deep in shadow to see more than the white of his teeth as he smiles. “After all, it’s just a joke.”

His hands tighten around the rim of his plates. It’s not, it’s not. “Yeah,” he grunts softly. “Sure.”

His room is dark when she goes to him. Only the moonlight shafting through his narrow windows illuminates him, shows how he is caved in, hollowed out around his heart.

You’re right, of course, Zen had said after the door closed, smiled pulled tight across his face. Now that I think about it, Obi’s always had a soft spot.

It’s not his fault; he hasn’t been here to know – to know all the things she does, but –

“You can take it back now.”

His voice is as it always is, light and playful, but she hears the fraying in it too, the way he’s unraveling.

“There’s no one here now,” he reminds her. “You can take it back, Miss.”

“Obi –”

“Please.”

The bristle of his hair tickles her palm as she rests it on his head. “I can’t.”

He looks up at her then, oh so slowly, eyes blinking and dark in the shadows. All she can see of them is their shine. “Why?”

“It would be a lie,” she says, so softly, running furrows in his hair. “It would be a lie if I took it back.”

He pitches forward, head thumping against her belly. “You should go.” His voice is muffled in the folds of her dress. “You should be with Master, Miss.”

“No.” Her fingers shift softly over the whorl of his cowlick. “I’m right where I’m meant to be.”

His breath is hot against her belly, heavy. She feels damp where he rests his head. “I’m right where I’m needed most,” she says, less certain. “Aren’t I?”

Finally, finally, he tilts into her touch. “Yes,” he sighs. “Yes.”

#thelionshoarde #obiyuki #happy family #my fic #ans #Holiday Promptathon #speaking as a younger sibling #there was always a difference between the people who only were interested in you #because they were dating your sibling #and the people who found you interesting and valuable #whether they were with your sibling or not #and i always felt that ryuu must feel the difference

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monotype-on-phantom · 7 years

Text

The Woman of Many Faces

This was actually one of the harder analyses for me to start, because with Maddie, I’m not sure where to start. She seems to be a simple woman who reacts to each situation as it comes to her, but the fact is, Maddie’s demeanor completely changes depending on what role she’s playing. There’s mother Maddie, wife Maddie, scientist Maddie, ghost hunter Maddie, and even each of those can be different depending on what situation she’s dealing with.

When you also consider that each of these roles are equally important to her, how am I supposed to decide where to start talking about her first? I’m still not entirely sure, but I’m gonna give it a shot. Hopefully this won’t end up as too much of a mess.

The best I can gather is that Maddie is an adaptable woman who adjusts herself to each new situation as it comes to her. In their college days, Jack’s the only one sporting a jumpsuit (the very same jumpsuit he always wears, in fact), while Maddie’s wearing a lab goat over what are probably some stylish clothes (given her hair and earrings.)

With the way she’s eying Jack in both versions of this scene, I think it might be safe to say the passion for ghost hunting came with her feelings for Jack. He might be goofy, eccentric, and seem insane to a lot of people, but for whatever reason, Maddie is absolutely smitten with him.

Look at that face. Over 20 years they’ve known each other, over 18 years they’ve been married, and kisses from him can still easily pull that dazzled look from her, even with syrup dripping from his pocket.

I think that, most likely, they met in college. Jack was that weird guy who believed in ghosts, and Maddie was likely pursuing science in another field (her talents make it unlikely that wasn’t something that always interested her). When they met, he somehow managed to pull her into his passion with him, and even though neither of them ever see a ghost until at least 20 years later, she throws herself whole-heartedly into it.

She takes to wearing her jumpsuit at all times, building ghost-hunting equipment on a daily basis, proudly talks about her field to anyone, either learns to fight or repurposes her fighting skills to deal with fighting ghosts, and gets as trigger happy as Jack (shooting at anything that she thinks could even possibly be a ghost.)

Maddie’s just a passionate and optimistic woman, similar to Jack in a lot of ways despite the fact that everyone views her as smarter and more competent. When she dedicates herself to something, she never goes halfway. And I think we can quite easily see that extends to when she became a mother.

The Fentons can be neglectful, but for as much attention as their work takes, it was important enough for them to stay with their kids that they built their lab and op-center right into the house. Both she and Jack wanted to be near their kids as they grew up and still be able to do their work. They build things at the breakfast table so they can see their kids off to school, and if they notice their children are feeling neglected, they try to make time for just them.

While we don’t see Maddie bonding with Jazz as much, we see on multiple occasions that she adores Danny. He is her baby, 14 or not. She calls him sweetie in public, gives him kisses, dotes on him, makes him bagged lunches when she’s at his school, and sees him as, and I quote, “the cutest, sweetest son in the world.”

For all that she gets distracted, she does notice that Danny’s changed a lot lately, and while she might not really understand why, it breaks her heart that they aren’t as close as they used to be. He used to be able to tell her anything and share everything with her. When he was little, she probably knew him better than anyone. There’s no way Jack was the one who took Danny to space camp or helped him get his Junior Astronaut certificate.

While I do love Jack, he’s pretty much convinced himself that his kids are going to take up the family business when they grow up. Maddie pushes this a lot less, and is likely the one who supports the kids in the passions and interests they have. And with how much space stuff Danny has (including his own telescope), Maddie was probably the one he used to ramble to all the time.

So when she feels him drifting away, she starts missing those times when he was her little mama’s boy.

The entirety of Maternal Instinct happens because Maddie wants so badly to bond with Danny again that she doesn’t stop to question things or look into this “DALV” corporation. She just instantly jumps to pack her bags and starts shaking with excitement.

Anyone who says being a ghost hunter comes first for Maddie should watch this episode again. She’s a nut, yes. She can carry machetes and all kinds of ghost hunting equipment on her, but doesn’t even think to bring a cell phone. That would be silly. However, in spite of that, ghost hunting Maddie takes a vacation so she can be full time mother Maddie this weekend, the only exception being when Danny’s in danger (then she whoops some ghost butt, but she’s not going to chase after them because she needs to keep her baby safe).

Maddie’s greatest shortcoming as a mother is that she doesn’t often think she has to choose between being a ghost hunter and a mother. She thinks she can be both quite easily, and she’s not the type to question her own judgment. She knows there are things more important than ghost hunting (as she tells Jack), but that doesn’t mean she can’t get too absorbed in her work.

As I mentioned in the past, she also has a problem with letting her biases and emotions cloud her judgment. This extends to her view of ghosts, her view of her family, and even her view of herself. She’s intelligent, yes, but she can be easily fooled because of those views and the fact that she sees herself as the logical one (between her and Jack). Even in obviously suspicious situations like the DALV invitation, she never second guesses herself.

These flaws result in her unknowingly pointing her weapons at her own child almost daily. Maddie might realize she needs to put aside being a ghost hunter sometimes to spend time with her kids, but it’s never going to be that big of a deal. All ghosts are evil, so by shooting at them, she’s clearly keeping her children safe. There’s no way their work could put her kids in any real danger. Clearly their inventions that are keying into Danny must just be malfunctioning. “Everyone knows humans can’t have ghost powers.”

Even with the evidence constantly piling up in several ways, Maddie’s beliefs are so ingrained in her that she doesn’t even realize she’s making excuses, and because she so rarely realizes she needs to take a second look at things, she accepts those excuses without question and moves on. No matter what evidence is thrown at her, she sticks to her guns until something she absolutely cannot deny smacks her in the face. (Like Danny transforming on live television. That’ll do it.)

These flaws are far more dangerous than she realizes, and when you combine that with Danny’s fear of his parents finding out what he is, this could’ve gone some very dark places. While she loves her kids and probably believes they know that, she’s obviously not convinced Danny that she’ll love and accept him no matter what. Even though he’s constantly being shot at, he thinks her knowing he’s half-ghost would be even more dangerous. And since Maddie won’t put the pieces together on her own, she could’ve unknowingly seriously harmed or even killed her child.

She’d never forgive herself if she did. In fact, I think she’d be crushed by the guilt of not only hurting him, but being so blind to the signs and what her kids tried to tell her, and being so ruthless and naive in work. She never considered ghosts being friendly even possible. She never thought humans could have ghost powers. She thought she knew exactly what she was doing, but she had no idea.

That said, it’s important to acknowledge what Maddie does every time she does find out. Maddie loves and accepts him instantly. She’s so proud of him for all he’s doing. She doesn’t even bring up the things that had convinced her Danny Phantom was evil, such as the stealing, attacking the mayor, or anything else. She understands immediately that she didn’t understand. There are clearly many things she was wrong about, but she loves her son unconditionally, and he needs to know that now. She might’ve failed to show him before, but she’s not making that mistake again. She can listen to whatever explanations he wants to give later.

This strayed a bit from where this post started out, but I do think all of this is important to understanding who Maddie is. She and Jack are both criticized a lot, and not without reason. They do make some serious mistakes over the course of the series. I still can’t bring myself to see them as anything other than good people, though. They love their kids, they love each other, and they always try to do what they believe is best, especially for their kids. Especially Maddie.

They just have a lot of growing to do, but that’s what character development is for.

And I’ll get to that at the end of season 2.

#maddie fenton #cast #plot #danny phantom #maternal instinct #i'll just leave it at that since that's the episode i'm on #huzzah

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westletter · 4 years

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January 2020

Dear Friends, This mysterious poster has been appearing on lampposts in downtown Kingston since last fall. It has prompted a rather personal examination of fake news. Read the fine print under the photo and note that the scientist on the right is The West Letter editor’s father, Allen (Al) West. He died at age 86 in 1996. Bitten is the title of a book that appeared last year. Written by a science writer in California, Kris Newby, it argues with great conviction that the scourge of tick-borne Lyme disease can be traced to US biological weapons research “gone wrong” post World War II. The author, a recovered Lyme disease patient herself, builds a case that experimental work at Plum Island NY, led to the pathogen “escaping” into the deer population in Connecticut in the ‘70s, and from there to humans. In plain English, Bitten is a conspiracy theory, that commits the classic error of equating correlation with causation. Newby conveniently skirts the ample evidence that Lyme disease has been with us at least since the 1890s, and possibly for centuries, preferring to make a case out of two coincident but unrelated facts: one, US military tick-borne disease research in progress on Plum Island NY post WW II; and two, the first identification of Lyme disease in Old Lyme (from whence the name), Connecticut in 1977. The “ah hah” factor, if you are inclined to the conspiracy, is that Plum Island is but a short hop, as the crow flies, from Connecticut.

The amateur poster maker too has indulged -- egregiously so -- in the same lack of critical thinking. Looking at the poster, you might assume that Al West and Queen’s University “in Ontario” were central to the conspiracy theory story. You would be wrong. The cover of the book does not feature this photograph. Nor in the entire text of Bitten is there any reference to Al West or Queen’s University, other than in the photo and caption. The main character from beginning to end of Bitten is the man on left, Willy Burgdorfer, the discoverer of the bacterium that causes Lyme Disease. The purpose of the photo was to help bring him to life for the reader. The guys in the lab coats to his left were completely unrelated to the conspiracy tale.

I’m guessing that the poster maker is a Lyme disease sufferer in Kingston who buys the conspiracy angle of Bitten. He or she has seized on the three amigos in lab coats photo, and its caption, as “evidence” (guilt by association) that Al West and Queen’s University must have had a hand, along with Burgdorfer, in releasing the plague of Lyme disease upon humans. Sic transit the compounding of fake news. §

FAKE INVESTING NEWS Beware the market soothsayers Canadian economist David Rosenberg is a genuine heavy hitter. After years opining and advising on Wall Street he returned to Canada to do the same for the Toronto-based money manager Gluskin Sheff. Rosenberg’s “Breakfast with Dave” subscription service has a devoted following, as do his frequent interviews and articles in publications such as the Wall Street Journal, the Globe and Mail and the Financial Post.

Last November Rosenberg left Gluskin Sheff to hang out his own shingle. The name may be changing, but the schtick has not and will not. Rosenberg is best known as a “perma-bear”, someone who almost always forecasts bad news ahead in the markets. Famously, while Chief Economist at Merrill Lynch, he correctly called the impending real estate crash in the US before the Great Recession in 2008. That made his reputation. Unfortunately, with rare exceptions, he has been calling for more bad news ever since. Rosenberg is one of those economists of whom it can fairly be said: “He called 39 of the last 9 recessions.” Put another way, even a broken clock is right twice every 24 hours. Beware the market soothsayers. If you listened to the naysayers a year ago (including Rosenberg), you missed out on the best market performance in the past decade. In investing it pays to stick to the knowable: is this stock over or under priced; are the board and management demonstrably competent and on the shareholders’ side; can the balance sheet withstand the inevitable storms? The rest is guessing, which has no place in long term successful investing. §

THEME FOR A NEW DECADE Hop on board the shortage in rental housing! To quote from an editorial in the January 3rd edition of Globe and Mail:

“Canada has recently been the fastest growing country in the Group of Seven, with a population rising at double the pace of the United States and United Kingdom, and four times that of France and Germany. According to Statistics Canada projections, our country could have 48.8 million people by 2050. And that’s the agency’s medium growth projection; under a high-growth scenario,there could soon be 56 million Canadians. Nearly all of these future residents are going to live in this country’s handful of big cities. That means millions of new urban dwellers ....” At a recent baby boomers dinner party, the talk turned to empty nesters making steps to downsize. The hosts, it turned out, were preparing to put their house on the market, and had been apartment hunting. However, they were discouraged. “How long do you think the waiting lists are to get into a good building in Kingston?” they asked.

No one knew. They answered their own question: “Two hundred. Three hundred. Even five freaking hundred!!!” Of course that’s just anecdotal. But the Stats Can projections bear out the argument. In large part due to immigration policy, but also taking natural increase into account, there is a widely acknowledged shortage in rental housing stock in Canada’s cities. This bodes well for the the cash flows and growth rates of well-run operators like Minto Apartment Real Estate Income Trust (REIT) of Ottawa. The founding Greenberg family is still running the business and they are best of breed, as is their portfolio of properties.

CLASS OF 2020 FIRST TERM REPORT CARD Solid start, Info Tech shines At the half-way mark in the 2020 academic year (July 1st to December 31st, 2019) the Class was up a respectable 7.3% vs. 4.2% for the TSX; 9.5% for the S&P 500; and 7.3% for the Dow. For the calendar year (January 1st to December 31st, 2019) the Class advanced a sparkling 22.1% vs. 19.1% for the TSX; 28.9% for the S&P 500; and 22.3% for the Dow. The Headmaster is reasonably pleased and offers the following first-term commentary: “We dodged a bullet in the energy sector with Enbridge making a nice recovery -- there should be more to come -- and the addition of Algonquin’s green energy portfolio to the Class. The pair were up 12.4%.” “Our Info Tech players -- Apple, Microsoft, Visa and Open Text -- once again led the pack with a sterling average return of 20%. Are they expensive? Arguably, yes. Could their run have exhausted itself? Quite possibly, in the short term. Am I considering replacing these Class leaders with new prospects? Absolutely not.” “Financials, represented by BlackRock, RBC, ScotiaBank and TD, held their ground, eking out a 1.4% average return. On the plus side, their valuations are quite attractive, a quality that is increasingly difficult to find in many parts of the market. That bodes well for future gains. As noted previously, BlackRock’s co-founder and CEO Larry Fink is an impressive guy, quite visionary and worth keeping an eye on. In his just published annual letter he is committing to exiting positions in environmentally unsustainable businesses. He is encouraging others to do the same. Coming from the head of the largest asset manager in the world ($7 trillion USD), that’s a meaningful nudge.” “Retail Class veterans Metro and Alimentation Couche Tard clocked a respectable 4.5%. While fully priced for now, they continue to benefit from wise acquisitions. There will be more to come. In particular, I’m following Couche Tard’s mating dance with Caltex, a fuel distributor and convenience store chain in Australia. If the deal goes through, it will be the largest in Couche Tard’s history and transformational for the company. If not, another deal will come along. Couche are patient buyers.” “Global fertilizers champ Nutrien was beaten up somewhat this past term, dragging the return for Resources down 11.2%. By comparison with key competitors like Mosaic, however, Nutrien is smelling like a rose, given the weak market conditions. All the while, wisely managed Nutrien continues to throw off cash and use it to buy back shares and pay a growing, nicely yielding dividend. With some cooperation in potash and nitrogen prices, I can see this Class member in positive territory by the end of the school year.” “Brookfield Infrastructure pulled up the Class average with a tidy 15.5% Infrastructure gain. What did the market like? Among other things, canny purchases of cell phone towers and a gas pipeline network in India. And data centres. This classmate is a master at recycling capital to deliver shareholder value. Translation: selling high; buying low.” “CNR, John Deere and CCL held the fort, almost, for Industrials, with an average return of - 4.1%. Each had to contend with headwinds of one form or another. For CNR, there was the strike; for Deere, the fallout from the US/China trade war in agriculture; for packager CCL, global trade would be a factor, but I also have nagging concerns about purely operational factors. More recent acquisitions have been slow to bear fruit. Let’s hope some of these issues will be resolved by next June.” “Healthcare desk-mates Amgen and Johnson & Johnson didn’t break a sweat over the past six months, registering an average gain of 17.8%. Do not be deterred by the multitude of talcum powder and opioid litigations J&J is facing. These are par for the course in the pharma world, and are already fully reflected in J&J’s still below par share price. Keep your eye on the business fundamentals. They are doing just fine.” “Telus, our lone but dependable Class member in Telecom, logged a 3.8% gain. Factor in the dividend yielding 4.6% and what’s not to like?” “Disney waves the Class flag for Entertainment, and what a flap it has created with the keenly awaited launch of its streaming service Disney +. Since its September debut, subscriptions have breached the 50 million mark and show no signs of slowing down (Netflix watch out). It’s enough to make a Headmaster proud. The stock is up an underwhelming 3.6% for the term. But put that in perspective: over the past 12 months, the House of Mouse has had a run-up of 31.9%. As is so often the case, the market anticipated the good news. Fear not; there should be more to come in the months and years ahead.” If you would like further information on any of the investing ideas raised in this issue, or a complimentary consultation, please call or email. CW

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showingthroughtome · 7 years

Text

spit fire - chapter nineteen

i saw you in the party, soft lips, soft spoken

“Normally, and you know this, I'm not on Farrah's side.” Molly shudders, laughing. “But you haven't been out once this semester and we're almost halfway through it. Even if Harry is the dick of the century, you shouldn't let him keep you in.”

“I don't.” From Noa’s perspective, that isn't the case. Not one bit.

“You do.” Farrah argues, picking up the dress Noa has since put on the chair by her desk, holding it back up towards her friend and adding, “It's kind of sad, really.”

Molly takes what Farrah says and tacks on a pout. “Do you want to make us sad, Noa?”

read below - catch up here - ask me things here

Though, of course, Harry apologizes to her. He sends her text after text that following day. All of them are about how he's sorry for going behind her back without making sure it was okay with her first. Then, the following day at cheer practice, he surprises her in the supply closet and tries his hardest to have her truly hear his apology.

Though, of course, she doesn't. And that night, he sends her one more text saying he will never regret doing anything to make her less anxious - never, he emphasizes.

That was weeks ago now, and they haven't spoken at all since. His waves are ignored and his texts go unopened before she deletes them. Until eventually, those stop and they grow completely apart. February goes without any interaction. She cheers at his games and watches him score point after point, but she doesn't even acknowledge his existence.

It's not like it's easy for her or anything. She has spent more nights than she'll ever admit with tears in her eyes as she listens to the most emotional Drake songs there are. Once or twice, she's stays up until 2am looking at his dumb Instagram and wondering what the hell is going on in his everyday life.

Noa stops going to Sigma Kappa parties because she knows she'll see him there. There would be a possibility of hearing his laugh or catching his dimples or worst of all, seeing either of those being directed at someone that isn't her. So, on weekends she sits in and watches TV shows on Netflix. She's even cracked open textbooks a time or two.

During one weekend, she spent every waking hour planning a protest for the science labs to stop using frogs as play things. That following week, she spent three days sat outside the building with eleven other environmentally conscious students. She got shit for missing practice from all the members on the squad and the university head of the team but luckily, there weren't any games she missed and she rose awareness about the unnecessary frog deaths.

March Madness has begun quickly and in a whirlwind, the Springfield Wolves are in it to win it. They blaze through the first round with Harry as the star. Suddenly, national attention is on this British player and Noa almost shudders every time she happens to see his name on ESPN - she flips the channel as fast as she can but they play it on nearly every TV around campus.

After the second round, and a win by 27 points, every student is buzzing with the talks of “the party of the century” at SK. Noa on the other hand, cannot bring herself to care any less. She is sitting in her room after she got back to her room and took a long shower when a knock is heard at the door.

“Noa, get the fuck up.” Molly says after popping her head in and seeing Noa with wet hair and still wrapped in a towel. Farrah pushes Molly forward, through the door, and slowly begins shaking her head.

“I'm not going.” Noa declares sternly, adamantly.

Farrah doesn't stop shaking her head until she comes back just as certain with, “Yes. Yes, you are.”

“How many times do we have to talk you into having fun?” Molly closes the door behind them, shutting out the girls on the opposite side who are celebrating with a floor party. Walking to Noa’s wardrobe, Molly’s heels clack against the tile floor. “That’s all we do anymore.”

Noa watches her begin to swipe through all her clothes with the assistance of Farrah. She completely forgets the question until Molly stops mid swipe and raises her eyebrows at her.

“Um, well I don't think it will be fun.” Noa shrugs as a matter of fact, wringing her hands through her hair and onto the towel.

“You'd think it was fun if a certain meddling boy wasn't going to be there.” Farrah said, completely sure of herself with no hesitance to go there.

There was no use in denying it so Noa replies, “Maybe.”

Molly pulls out a black, strappy dress - simple but a tiny bit shiny so it isn't boring. It's one of Noa's favorites even though she hasn't had a chance to wear it out yet.

“Dude, get over that shit.” Molly looks over the dress one more time before nodding with Farrah and then throwing it at Noa.

She catches it just barely, questioning incredulously, “What?”

“So what, man? He went and made sure your mom wasn't dead. Boohoo. He loves you and wants you to be happy.” Shrugs the brunette with the brash attitude who rarely throws it that bluntly at Noa, checking herself out in the mirror.

Farrah, who is usually the one leading the train, agrees, “Yeah, Noa. Damn.”

Many times over the last couple weeks have the girls shown this same attitude - damn Noa, love you but he was just looking out. Yeah, it was actually really sweet if you could see it. If you could just get over the fact that you didn't ask him too.

Noa is kind of tired of always hearing the same things from her friends. If it were them in her situation, she'd surely have their backs in whatever they needed to be happy.

She rolls her eyes and exasperates, “It's not really any of your business either.”

“Bitch, calm down.” Molly snaps her head away from the mirror at Noa’s annoyed tone, still smiling. “It's just, you're always so down because what exactly?”

“He went to my mom.”

“Must be rough to be cared about.” Farrah moans dramatically, fixing her lip gloss in the mirror.

Molly throws her arm around Farrah's neck and confers, “It's probably because she's not used to it, huh?”

“All that love has got her feeling angry inside, I suppose.”

Ever since the two of them got their happy little ending - because yeah, Molly calls Zayn her boyfriend now - they've been nearly insufferable to Noa. She guesses it's because they just want her to be happy so bad that they can't tell how pushy they can be. Every time she tells them to chill, either one of them will explain it away as just being “fucking honest” with her about the truth of the situation.

“Can you guys just shut up?” Noa says in a sweet voice so her friends aren't really offended, though she can't lose all edge to it so they do know she's being serious.

Farrah counters, “Then come to the party.”

“I don't want to.” She walks over to the drawer where her underwear is and pulls out a black bra and black panties - nothing special at all.

“You'll be so bummed if you miss it.”

“I don't.” From Noa’s perspective, that isn't the case. Not one bit.

“You do.” Farrah argues, picking up the dress Noa has since put on the chair by her desk, holding it back up towards her friend and adding, “It's kind of sad, really.”

Molly takes what Farrah says and tacks on a pout. “Do you want to make us sad, Noa?”

Noa throws her head back, realizing she will be leaving the dorm that night no matter how much she wants to stay in.

“I hate you guys, you know that?” She grunts and drops her towel, putting the bra back into the drawer since the dress they picked didn't call for it.

The two girls take one more look at each other, both fully polished for a night out and looking fabulous in their very different but revealing dresses, and somehow say at the same time, “For sure.”

---

By the time they do arrive, all in some variation of black and a red lip, the party is in full swing. It's one of the more crowded ones Noa has ever been to at the frat house - and she was there for the anti-Trump party the day after he got elected. Every room was brimming then and somehow tonight still feels like more.

Molly has to basically pull the others through the front door, ignoring the come on’s from randoms who have no clue who they are. Bass is thumping through the room though, so it's easy for the girls to pretend like they just can't hear the guys. One of them almost touches Farrah but she's swatting them away before they have the chance.

When they finally get to people they know, they're all ready for a drink. The good thing is that the person they find is Louis and Louis always always mans the keg.

“Hey babe!” He greets Farrah as soon as he sees her, bursting with excitement, clearly drunk, kissing her cheek. “You guys made it!”

“Not without a little pushing on our part.” Farrah gestures between her and Molly and nodding her head in Noa’s direction.

Noa shakes her head and restrains from saying something sassy. She instead goes for one of the red cups on the top of a plastic tower of them and holds it out to Louis, “Fill me up, Lou?”

“Anything for my favorite grouch!” He brings the tap to the lip of her cup and begins filling it.

“Hey! I am not a grouch.”

“I'd beg to differ.” Molly follows suit and holds up a cup.

“And that's coming from the girl who is willingly dating Zayn Malik - moodiest dude ever.” Louis snorts.

“We can't all be as happy as you are all the time.” Molly says sharply, like she's actually defending her boyfriend. Noa hasn't seen Molly go that far yet, but low and behold, Molly is damn near snarling at someone for Zayn.

She's touched, really. And working on her drink as she listens to the two go back and forth. Louis may be happy all the time but he sure does have a few smart remarks up his sleeve that makes Noa glad she came out. Farrah watches too, trying not to root on either side but ultimately laughing a bit more at Louis’ quips.

Zayn shows up soon to defend himself with Niall close on his heels. As soon as Niall sees Noa, he bounds for the spot right next to her and embraces her in the biggest bear hug imaginable.

“Where have ya been, my cheerleading beauty?” He asks as he loosens his grip. Placing a kiss on her forehead quickly, he urges, “Huh?”

All the affection is a bit much for Noa - she feels submerged in his gruff and beer breath and loud voice - but, she knows that's just who Niall is when so she tries to act okay with it, shrugging, “Oh you know, around.”

“Avoiding us?”

“No. Never.” She shakes her head with certainty so the blonde will believe her.

Niall nods sheepishly and with a slightly disbelieving eye. “Avoiding him?”

At that, the worry in her stomach reappears, the ominous him of it all looming over her head. Noa gives a snort, “No. Never.” She brushes him further back so she can give Niall a look that makes him think he is crazy to even assume.

But just like he didn't believe her a second ago, he doesn't believe her now. Niall emits another chuckle and nudges her shoulder, “Yeah, well, I've missed you. There haven’t been enough environmental rants in my life recently.”

“I am so sorry. I'll get on that in a drink or two.” Noa smiles wide, raising her cup to her lips and taking a larger than usual drink to show her conviction for Niall.

Shaking his head, he says, “I heard something about you and frogs.”

“Don't get me started.” She throws her hand in the air to stop him, then changes her mind. “Actually, it was a beautiful experience. Transcendental really.”

“Really?”

“You’ll be there next time.” Noa assures, to which Niall enthusiastically agrees. He is smiling so pure, cheeks getting redder the closer he gets to intoxicated, his eyes radiating good times. It reminds Noa of how he looks when he talks animatedly about girls he has crushes on, leading her to ask right in that moment, “How are you and that girl?”

“Huh?” Niall squints at her, trying to figure out what she is talking about.

“That girl? The basketball player.”

“Oh. That fizzled out in weeks. Too extreme, I found.” He is shaking his head, “Man, she had practice like, all the time and didn't ever make time for dates.”

Noa feels her eyes go big with shock that he said that, immediately reacquainted with the feeling of when boys said the same things about her in high school. She flares her nostrils and playfully says, “Wow. What a bitch? It's like she has her own life or something.”

“You know what I mean though. She was just too busy.” Defending himself, he raises his voice. “We weren't ever anything serious though so it's not like either of us were too bent up about it.”

Noa decides then that it isn’t her business - not after the way Niall started laughing halfway through his defense. She smiles and without thinking says, “Nice. Always good to split up amicably.”

“How would you know?” Niall drops his jaw and lifts his eyebrows accusingly the moment the words are out of Noa’s lips.

She smacks her hand to her forehead - regret regret regret - as she pleads, “Not you too! You're supposed to be a good one.”

“Come on, Noa. Can you blame me? I've spent the last couple months listening to Harry whine.” Niall admits without any bit of wavering on the subject.

Noa doesn’t want to have the conversation and she doesn’t want to care that Harry has been whining. But she does. “Whine?”

“Well… yeah.” Niall only notices then that maybe he shouldn’t be talking about it with her. “But I'm his lad so I'm saying no more on the subject.”

“You brought it up.”

“Fuck! I did, didn't I?”

“You're drunk, my friend.” Noa grips his shoulder closest to her and brings their bodies closer for emphasis, laughing in his face, “Absolutely pissed.”

“Look who's bringing him up now!” Niall’s eyes light up even more, pointing a finger in her face, following the sentence with the final drink from his cup.

“That wasn't me bringing him up.” Noa swats his hand away, nearly annoyed with the fact that he was technically correct.

“Nah, just using his British-y terms.” Niall puts on a bad accent and grins, “Gonna go take a kip soon?”

“Shut up.” She rolls her eyes but finds herself smiling at the word and how she always thought it was kind of cute coming out of Harry's mouth - the way he only ever uses it when he is completely worn out and a little slurry in his pronunciation. It sends an instant wave of missing him washing over her, raising the normal level she's gotten used to.

Her eyes are scanning the room for him uncontrollably now. She would try to stop them but she feels a sudden need to find him. Maybe just to see him or maybe just to talk. Maybe even to really talk to him - about what went wrong and how, for far too long, she hasn't gotten to pretend to dislike cuddling him.

She can't find him after a few peers and peeks around the tops of everyone's head so she turns to Niall who is getting his cup refilled and asks, “Is he here?”

“Uh, I don't think so.” Niall drops the tap and gestures in the direction across the room. “Go ask Zayn, though. As you said, I'm pissed.” He laughs once again as Noa follows his advice and makes her way to the guy surrounded by clouds.

“Zayn.” She addresses him with a smile and some hope that he’ll know where Harry is.

“Hey, Noa. How ya doin’?”

“Good. You?” Noa is making her way through casualties patiently, not fully understanding the incessant urge to see Harry but letting her true emotions engulf her actions.

Zayn, on the other hand, is genuinely into the conversation, smiling from ear to ear as he runs a hand through his hair. “Pretty fucking toked out.”

Noa laughs because how can she not and then doesn't even think to segway into her question before she's asking, “Do you know where Harry is?”

“Not here.” Zayn eyes her suspiciously, high but still aware that Noa asking for Harry is something out of the ordinary. He carries on quickly though, “He doesn't really show up to the parties anymore.”

“Why not?” Noa is confused. Harry always loved to celebrate with the guys, she knows he always came here after a win unless he was with her - usually they'd come together. “How can he not be celebrating his big night?”

“Like you don't know.” Zayn hits his pipe after shaking his head at her, almost disapproving. Because Noa does know. She knows it is her fault that Harry isn't there. She doesn't need the look from Zayn to add to that. She bows her head to look into her half-filled cup just so she can avoid the brown eyes of Harry's close friend. Yet, he continues, “He's missing you, babe. He puts up a good front, I think, when he's around you anyway.”

“So he just doesn't show anymore?” She bites her lip, ignoring the Harry missing her part and what that does to her brain.

“Hasn't in weeks.” Zayn shrugs and then exhales, resolute in something before he gets a smirk and explains, “I shouldn't tell you this but last time we smoked he went on this like, 20-minute rant type thing on how he like, went on a hike with you once or some shit and fucking had the best time of his life and how he was like terrified it wouldn't happen again. I don't know. It was a trip, man.”

“When was this?” Noa can’t believe Harry even registers that hike as something special - as she remembers, he complained the whole time and pretended to die on multiple occasions. Though, to her it is one of those moments she thinks about when she shouldn't be thinking about anything at all. It's one of those memories she replays while listening to Drake and contemplating how much fun it was to just be with him.

High Zayn scratches his chin. “Like the day before the day before yesterday.”

So Noa puts her drink on one of the side tables and begins to stress about her next move. Because now she knows she wants to talk to him, she wants to figure out a few things - she's tired of pretending like she has a clear idea of everything they both did right and wrong. It's all jumbling together, causing her to think none of it should've gone to where it went.

She pulls her phone out of her pocket and stares at it, and then she looks back over to Zayn who is kind of just watching for her next move too. She looks down at her phone again and decides, “I'm gonna - fuck it - I'm gonna call him.”

The line rings and rings and Noa is fighting her way back out of the house to find some quiet. It goes to voicemail before she can even get close to the door. She's thinking of leaving a message for him but then she's thinking maybe he just ignored her on purpose. Maybe he has had enough of her shit. After all, he was just trying to help and she threw the biggest fit. Her thumb presses the end call button as soon as that thought makes its way to her heart - the only organ she's letting her actions function off of at the moment.

She's finally getting out of that house and away from the party she didn't want to go to in the first place. But now she's by herself and questioning everything. She's feeling so deeply that she wants to go to Harry and apologize for everything that's gone on - even though it wasn't all her fault. No matter what happened, she just wants to start over. She wants to talk to him and say, listen, we fucked up but I care for you so much. Let's try again… please, let's try again.

It all happens so fast but she feels her mind made up...

But then never mind. Her brain is saying, hold up. You had your reasons. Calm down. It's only 10:30. He's not asleep, you know that. He ignored you on purpose. Go home.

Staring down at her phone on the chilly spring night, she's truly and completely torn. And when moments like this occur, she can usually think of only one way to resolve it - smoking by herself and thinking on it.

So, that's what she does. She goes home and finds her stash, then walks to her favorite park and smokes for hours. Her brain and heart are still having the debate when the sky starts to shift from black to purple to orange. And then, by then, she ignores them both and follows what her eyes need - a good, long bit of rest.

authors note: wow okay!!!!! so one chapter left now!!! i have just started writing it last night so give me a week or two and we will wrap up ol’ noa and harry. i am actually very sad about it being over. i think as a writer you get so attached to the characters and the world theyre in and everything but about halfway through, you wanna make a new world with new characters (at least i did) so you kind of wanna hurry up and finish this current story... but now that its almost over, i wish i still had so much more left to write and explore. like, noa’s dad. he’d be fun to dive into but he just isnt a part of her life at the moment so that would have to be a whole other fic. and i am going to wrap up noa and sarah cherry but not in intense detail because again, that’d just be a different fic. sarah was a part of this story but really, obviously, its all about noa. and noa isnt about her mom at this point. she is kind of over the worry. and wow this note is getting long. sorry.

anyway

what do you think is going to happen next? what do you want to happen? what do you think of noa and her friends? and what about that boy harry? he wasnt in this chapter but soooooon!!!!

#1dff #sf chapter #what do you think??#i hope you like it!#one chapter left #*crying emoji*

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sage-nebula · 7 years

Note

'Augustine Sycamore' is a long name, so feel free to just do 'Augustine' or 'Sycamore'!

It’s long, but I don’t mind! I answered for my valiant dragon son’s full name; might as well answer for his papa’s, as well. ;) (Granted, I gave several paragraph responses in Alan’s, but . . .)

A — What are/were this character’s best subjects in school?

Augustine is another who never really had a “bad” subject, but science was definitely his strong suit---with a particular emphasis in biology / zoology---simply because that was what he was most interested in. Like most people, Augustine did go on a journey when he was ten, but in his teen years he decided to return to academics and ended up attending university in his late teens/early 20s (hence how and why he became the regional professor). Ever since he was a child, Augustine was the type of person who applied himself only to the subjects that most interested in. This doesn’t mean he made poor grades in other areas---on the contrary, he could put in minimal effort and still make good grades---but it just means that he wouldn’t push himself to do above the minimum if it was a subject or assignment that bored him. (And given his intelligence, along with some mental health issues, he felt bored a lot.)

But science was always interesting to him, often regardless of the type of science. He has (and has always had) a preference for biological sciences, and zoology in particular, but he also enjoys chemistry, physics, earth sciences, astronomy, and . . . well, most sciences, honestly! He also took interest in archaeology and history over the years, especially once he decided to dedicate himself to mega evolution research. Suddenly, those two subjects became very interesting, since they were directly related to something he had vested interest in. Once he developed that concentrated interest in those two areas, it became much easier for him to focus and want to participate in those classes.

U ---What’s their voice like?

Setting aside that we do have a canon voice actor for him (and I much, much prefer his Japanese voice), whenever I write Augustine’s dialogue I always imagine his voice as being somewhat in the middle, pitch-wise. Not too deep, but definitely not high, either. He rarely raises his voice, even when angry, and so it’s usually pretty even, but not to a monotonous extent. Quite the opposite, really; Augustine’s voice tends to be somewhat light, in terms of the weight the sound carries, and it’s very, very easy to hear smiles in his voice, or tell what kind of mood he’s in by how he delivers what he says (because despite rarely raising his voice, it’s just as easy to hear frowns in his voice as well). Augustine’s voice naturally carries---he’s not super loud, but he doesn’t have a soft voice either---and when he’s excited about something he tends to talk a bit faster, a bit louder. (This is especially true of him when he’s younger; his college roommate could tell stories about Augustine getting super excited about something at 2am and “waking up half the damn floor,” and though that’s an exaggeration, the roommate was woken up, so, it counts in his book.) I feel like I’m doing a really bad job of describing this, haha, but I do think he has a very pleasant voice to listen to! It’s definitely not at all a chore to listen to him talk about something. He’s very easy to learn from.

G ---How do they flirt?

No chill.

At least, he has no chill when he’s sure that what he’s doing is a good move (i.e. he knows the person is single, is reasonably certain the person is also into men, et cetera). If Augustine is pretty sure that this could only work out well for him, he goes straight for it, 0 to 100, laying on the slick moves and innuendo right off the bat. This isn’t even a headcanon, this is 100% canon, we’ve seen it. He knows what he’s about, son, and he’s not afraid to let the person he’s interested in know it. (And I keep saying “person,” but I should note that in my headcanon he is only interested in men, so.)

If he’s less sure that the person (man) is into men, or less sure if they’re single or not (or in a good place to date, et cetera), he’ll sort of touch around the issue to fish the answers out of them. Ask about their significant other, perhaps, to see if they have one, or ask about various celebrities in the media to see how the person reacts, that sort of thing. He’ll fish for information, and if the prospects then look good, he goes for it. Again, he knows what he is about. He is not shy. And life, he feels, is too short and too good to spend feeling nervous and insecure. Even if he’s turned down, well, then he’s turned down, but then it’s just the same result as if he never tried at all, isn’t it? So it’s best to just go for it. Put himself out there. See what results. Who knows? It might be something great.

U --- What’s their voice like?

Answered!

S — How stealthy are they?

Not . . . really . . . very stealthy.

It’s not that he’s very clumsy or anything, but it’s more that this isn’t a skill that Augustine ever cultivated, or ever felt a need to cultivate. His parents were always quite supportive of him and he has a good relationship with them (even though there was a period of time where his dad was very unsure about his research, feeling that mega evolution research couldn’t possibly yield a good income, he changed his mind once he saw that Augustine could be and was successful with it), and so he never really had a reason to sneak around the house or be stealthy as a child. During the time when he traveled on his journey, he similarly never encountered reasons to be sneaky. Even when it came to places he perhaps wasn’t supposed to go, Augustine was always much better at just . . . charming his way into them rather than sneaking in through a back way. And I don’t mean “charming” in a flirty way, especially when he was a kid, but more that it was always very easy for Augustine to be found likable by other people, and so they were likely to bend the rules for him since he seemed like such a . . . well, such a likable kid. To be honest, Augustine could charm people this way without even realizing he was doing it. It’s a gift.

When he returned to academia, it was basically the same deal: There was never a reason for him to cultivate stealth tactics, because even when he was in a lab after hours during university, his professors adored him to the point where they would honestly give him special access to let him use the lab for whatever (especially since he only ever used it for good things). It was never an issue. And then, of course, once he got his own lab . . . well, it’s his own lab. He doesn’t need to be sneaky there.

So Augustine never really cultivated any stealth skills, and since he’s always had a certain level of confidence about himself (not overconfidence, mind, but he’s not embarrassed of who he is), that also doesn’t lead to him trying to make himself quieter or smaller. So while I wouldn’t say he’s terrible at being stealthy, it’s also just not something that he’s ever done. He’d probably be okay if he tried, but the opportunity really hasn’t presented itself.

T ---Where are they ticklish?

Several places, most notably behind his knees, along his ribs, and under his arms. And the worst part? His son knows this.

Specifically, Alan knows this because Augustine taught him what being ticklish meant, and Augustine taught him this because one time, way back when Alan was five or six, Augustine ran his fingers along Alan’s side as sort of a tap, just to get his attention as he said “come on, let’s go!” or something similar. Like, they were sitting on the couch, Augustine was standing up, and he just sort of poked Alan in the side to indicate that they should go. And this was how Augustine discovered that Alan was ticklish, because Alan yelped a giggle and squirmed away, his eyes wide because he had no idea why Augustine poking him like that felt that way. (Because after all, no one had ever tickled him before, so how was he supposed to know?) So Augustine sat back down and explained what being ticklish was, how it worked, and then---

“Is everyone ticklish?”

“Not everyone, but a lot of people are.”

“Are you?”

Augustine paused, and in that moment he knew he had a choice. He knew he could either tell the five (or six) year old staring at him that he was ticklish, which was the truth . . . or he could lie, say no, and potentially spare himself.

“Ah,” he said.

I want to say that, yeah, Alan was at least closer to six or already six at this point, because he had the comfort and confidence to take that verbal pause for what it was, and with all the mischief and daring that he had in him (which, honestly, was quite a bit, especially with regards to the daring), he inched closer.

“Wait,” Augustine said, but it was too late.

Alan pounced, running his fingers along Augustine’s ribs just like Augustine had done to him, and Augustine was laughing before he could stop himself, wrestling with the six-year-old who had tackled him in an impromptu tickle fight. That was the first tickle fight, but it more than likely was not the last. After all, you know how kids are. They don’t often let this kind of thing go. ;)

So yes, Augustine is definitely ticklish. That is a certainty.

I --- On a scale of 1 to 10, how much do they love themselves?

It kind of fluctuates.

For the most part, on an average day, Augustine rides at about a 7. He’s at 8 on a good day. But that said, I headcanon that Augustine does have some issues with depression; it’s nothing too serious, he’s not suicidal or anything, but particularly during his academic years---although he wanted to be there, he chose that, he loves to learn and study, the fact that he had to go through so many classes that he just did not care about stressed him out, and compounded the latent depression that is honestly there. He wouldn’t have the motivation to go to class, wouldn’t have the motivation to do the homework, but he had to do it, but he didn’t want to, and that sort of . . . spiraled. It’s a vicious cycle, you know, where this thing is bothering you / stressing you out and so you don’t do it, but then the thing grows in size and gets worse because you haven’t done it, and then it’s more stressful so you continue to procrastinate it, and then . . . you get the idea. And Augustine would know that he was doing this to himself, making this problem for himself, and he would know that the solution would be to just do the thing. But he couldn’t muster the will to do the thing, which would make him feel pretty awful about himself, because Arceus, why is he like this, why can’t he just do the thing, why is it that he can have motivation to do frivolous things that don’t matter, but he can’t have the motivation to do this super important (albeit devastatingly boring) thing he has to do in order to get his degree?

And it’s not just the stressful things, either---sometimes it would hit him out of the blue, like . . . the things he has been interested in, traditionally, have been things that other people consider to be stupid, or frivolous, or wastes of time. The skeptics about his chosen field aside, no one really understood his passion for retro things, for instance. No one really “got” his fashion sense (“Or lack of,” some of his more outspoken critics would say). Augustine always had a hard time fitting in, even with how likable he was as a kid (because I mean, you can be likable and still not “in” with the crowd, you know?), and that sort of thing did wear on him, did get to him, did make him think that, well . . . maybe he’s not normal, maybe he is weird, maybe things would be easier if he was interested in more traditional sciences and could actually finish his homework sooner than an hour before it’s due.

So he has depression issues that he struggles with sometimes, and in his younger days it was definitely more of a problem (and took him more time to be able to truly embrace and hold onto the “I don’t care if you think I’m weird, this makes me happy so bye” attitude he fully embraces later in life), and in those moments the number drops to more of a 4 or 5. But that happens a lot less frequently as he gets older, and especially less frequently once he has his lab, because honestly . . . that’s his dream. He accomplished his dream. It’s pretty hard even for his depression to make him think that he’s a weird freak once he has literally accomplished his dream. So even though he still has a bad day here or there, it’s a lot less frequent once he gets to that point in his life.

N — What do they usually eat for breakfast?

It depends on the day. If it’s more of a relaxing day, when he has time to mill around before getting ready for work, then he’ll have something warm for breakfast that actually involves cooking (however minimal), such as eggs and toast, or waffles---something of that nature. If it’s going to be a busy day, or he’s not that hungry, he’ll have a pastry and maybe some fruit to go with it. He always drinks coffee in the morning, too.

It should also be noted that he started putting more effort into nutritionally valuable breakfasts after taking in Alan, because he wanted to set a good example. Prior to that he’d maybe eat a granola bar, or a bowl of cereal, or cake for breakfast. But he realized, and very early on at that, that cake is probably not the best breakfast for a five-year-old, and as the adult it was his job to lead by example, so . . . he started eating legitimate breakfasts after he became a parent.

E — How are they with children?

THE BEST PAPA. Augustine is patient, kind, and nurturing. He’s respectful, too; even if the child is five, they have thoughts and feelings, and those thoughts and feelings are no less legitimate just because they’re young. So he genuinely listens to them, he has patience for their questions, and even if he does have to sometimes put his foot down (e.g. making sure Alan eats breakfast, for instance, or setting the rule that Alan can’t just leave the house/lab without supervision when he’s really young), he does so in a way that doesn’t condescend to them, and tries to explain where he’s coming from so they can understand. And on that note, he’s open to dialogue; like I said, he respects that they have thoughts and feelings, so he discusses things with kids. Sure, he knows more than they do from an objective standpoint because he’s an adult with more experience, but they have a perspective that he doesn’t because they’re their own person. He acknowledges and respects that.

He likes to have fun with them, and is great at playing with them. He’s an excellent teacher. And however many people might have had doubts about him scooping up Alan and bringing him home, he’s been an excellent father. The best. ♥ (Which of course isn’t to say that there haven’t been mistakes here or there---Augustine was learning, it was all new to him!---but for the most part, he has been the best, most definitely.)

S — How stealthy are they?

Answered!

Y — What is one question they’ve always wanted an answer to?

It’s less “one question” and more “a bunch of smaller questions that make up a greater whole.”

Augustine feels---and has always felt---that the universe is an ever-changing, ever-evolving nebula of answers. The answers themselves vary; they’re answers to simple questions, but they’re also answers to more existential questions pertaining to the purpose of people and pokémon on the planet, both on an individual and overall scale. And these questions are questions that Augustine wants to ask, these answers are answers that he wants to know. He wants to experience them for himself. And so throughout his life he’s sort of chased this feeling, that there’s something out there that he is meant to discover, that he is meant to know. He didn’t know what it was for the longest time, but whenever he came across something new or exciting, something which captured and held his interest, he thought that this must be it, and so he pursued it until he learned. But it didn’t stop there, because then he found something else that he wanted to study and learn, and so he went about his life, chasing knowledge and thriving on the experience of . . . well, experiencing it all!

But I think that at the core of most of the things that enthralled him is the relationship between people and pokémon, and how these two forces work in harmony (or disharmony, depending). This is why he was drawn to mega evolution; the concept that people and pokémon could work to balance and aid one another in such a profound way is one that certainly attracted him. The mysticism of it aside, Augustine felt that it was an extremely powerful representation of what could be accomplished when people and pokémon came together, so he focused his attention on that.

So really, I guess the answer is “the true extent of the relationship between people and pokémon,” but it’s really everything surrounding that, too. He wants to experience and learn it all, if possible.

C — Can they swim well?

Yes! He’s actually a good swimmer. He used to swim a lot more in university as a way to get exercise. He doesn’t really have access to a pool nowadays, but he still does enjoy swimming whenever he gets the chance.

A — What are/were this character’s best subjects in school?

Answered!

M — What is their favourite dessert?

Although he doesn’t have quite as big of a sweet tooth as Alan, Augustine does like a wide variety of desserts, and it’s hard to find one he’ll say “no” to. However, the one he most often orders for himself when he’s eating at restaurants that serve it is probably a cappuccino souffle. I mean, souffles are just good ordinarily, but if it’s nice and sweet and tastes a bit of coffee? What’s not to love about that?

O — What would it take to break them, inside and out?

Honestly . . . I think few things could break him as utterly as killing Alan would (though I think killing Gabrielle would come very, very close, if not hit that same mark).

I mean, obviously losing any of his loved ones would devastate him, certainly. Seeing any child die is not going to be something he’s okay with. But I think, even though I’ve never been a parent to a human child myself, that there’s something special about the grief one experiences when their child dies. I mean, there’s that saying that, “a parent should never have to bury their child,” and I think there’s really something to that. Augustine is older than Alan by twenty years; by all accounts, he should be the one to die first, shouldn’t he? Due to old age, or illness, or---or whatever, it doesn’t matter. He’s the parent, he’s older, it’s expected that Alan is going to outlive him. Alan should outlive him, that’s how this should be, that’s how this story should go.

But if it doesn’t . . . I mean, again, I’m not speaking from personal experience here, but from reading the personal experiences of others, it just seems like there’s a special kind of grief and pain that losing your child causes. You have the grief of losing a loved one, but also . . . that’s your child, that’s your baby. And, no, Alan’s not Augustine’s biological child, Augustine didn’t know him when he was a baby-baby, but that doesn’t matter. Adoption is just as real, just as important, it matters just as much. And Alan was five when Augustine took him in. He wasn’t an infant or a toddler, but in my eyes he was still a baby. In Augustine’s eyes he certainly was. And so for him to die, or be killed somehow . . . it just kind of compounds the grief, you know, that would already be there. It sort of devastates in the way other tragedies wouldn’t because that’s his kid, his son, and he was supposed to protect and take care of him, but even setting that aside, he . . . he was only a child, only (say) fifteen / sixteen, he was so young, and even setting that aside, like---Augustine knows that Alan was (oh god, the past tense) a teenager, he knows that, but he still can’t help but remember him as the six-year-old ecstatic because he has his very own lab coat now, or the seven-year-old who excitedly ran up to him to tell him that Jigsaw, one of their zigzagoon, had evolved. He can’t help but remember the ten-year-old who carried a charmander in the hood of his lab coat, or the eleven-year-old whose voice cracked for the first time. Like, yeah, Alan was a teenager, but in so many ways he was still a child. Or, more accurately, he was Augustine’s child, and now Augustine has to bury him and attend a funeral service for him, and that---

I just feel like, of all the things that could wreck him, this would wreck him the most, and for the longest time. It’s not something that he would really “get over,” you know, even if it slowly (very, very slowly) got “easier” over time. Like, it would never really get easier, he would just get better at faking it in front of others, at holding it together in front of others who may be upset or pretending that nothing’s wrong in front of strangers. But it would be pretty hollow, because at the end of the day . . . it’s not like before, when Alan was just traveling, somewhere out there in the world, maybe not calling home but at least alive and safe (or at least enough so that Augustine could tell himself that was the case). Now he knows, for a fact, where Alan is. Alan is dead, and Augustine can visit his gravestone (and the charizard who won’t move away from it, in that one AU of the Flare arc I wrote that one time), but that . . . that’s so much worse.

So yeah, I really feel like this would wreck him the most. Which, you know, considering what has already happened in To Devour the Sun, and what comes next . . .

R — What are their hands like?

Rather like Alan, despite the fact that they aren’t biologically related, Augustine has long, slender fingers. And, quite like Alan, his hands are also covered in various scars, but this time they’re all from scratches and bites (including one from Gabrielle---seriously, like father, like son) from various pokémon. To that end, Augustine usually has at least one or two little new scratches on his hands, because even though he’s very good with pokémon, he also plays with them a lot, and sometimes play can get a little rough. His nails are usually short, but uneven; he doesn’t take the time to file them down, but they break well enough on their own due to the work he does. And he has a lot of writing callouses, too.

E — How are they with children?

Answered!

#name headcanon meme #professor sycamore #ryttu3k

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