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#plus I’m drawing what on earth why do I have this much motivation
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Edgeshot would be doing a stealth mission in a glitterly long black dress with that cut in the dress (I'll find a reference later) because Ryukyu blackmailed him into doing it or another thing before it and he didn't have time to change.
YES! Camila!! Definitely!!!
Ahhhhh!!!!!!!
I have SO MANY headcanons and imagery for disguise missions and stealth missions and I have whole entire scenarios with specific pros as well!!!!
And aaaaaaaaaaaahhh I wanna ramble about them ohhhhh I really do- stealth and disguise mission headcanons yes yes.
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crazygalore · 3 years
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GABRIEL MAY (MALIGNANT) NSFW ALPHABET
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TW: mentions of dysmorphia, NSFW
A = Aftercare (What they’re like after sex)
Surprisingly, Gabriel actually NEEDS it, after each lovemaking session - no matter how gentle or how rough he was with you. He’ll draw the both of you a hot bath, and help you wash yourself. If you return the favour, this boy will positively melt, and let out tiny noises that sound suspiciously similar to little purrs. Afterwards, once he has patted your dry with a fluffy towel and dressed you in your favourite pyjamas, Gabriel will carry you to bed, and place you under the covers. Then, he will bring your favourite snacks and beverage, to enjoy while you huddle together to watch a movie before falling asleep.
B = Body part (Their favourite body part of theirs and also their partner’s)
Gabriel could never pick just one thing he loves about you - because he practically worships you body and soul. You are infinitely beautiful in his eyes, and the fact that you love and accept him for who he is feels like a miracle to him.
Since he doesn’t actually have a body of his own, he expresses his identity though clothes that he wears, which are different than the ones owned by Madison. Although they’re not body parts per say, he sees his leather coat and makeshift gold dagger as extensions of himself, and he enjoys donning them whenever he takes over his twin’s body. He will, sometimes, remain fully clothed during sex.
C = Cum (Anything to do with cum basically… I’m a disgusting person)
His pleasure is your pleasure, and he will make you cum as much as possible, if only to enjoy your desperate moans and whimpers. 
Being transmasc and trapped his Madison’s body, he suffers from severe dysmorphia and doesn’t really enjoy being touched intimately. And, as stated HERE, he did communicate with his sister when the two of you decided to become intimate, because he felt like this specific situation called for his sister’s consent. She doesn’t have access to his memories regarding his sex life, though - which is for the best.
D = Dirty Secret (Pretty self explanatory, a dirty secret of theirs)
It’s not a secret that he loves watching you pleasure yourself. The first time he witnessed it, you weren’t aware he was there, lost as you were in the act, so he quietly enjoyed the show from the door, a smug smirk playing at the corners of his mangled mouth.
E = Experience (How experienced are they? Do they know what they’re doing?)
You are Gabriel’s first and only love, and the only person who ever saw him as a human being, worth of respect and adoration. So he doesn’t have that much experience, but he did his research and tried to learn as much as possible about the human body’s erogenous spots. That makes up for his lack of actual physical experience, at least most of the times. But since your guys’ relationship is based on trust, respect and communication, Gabriel is never ashamed to ask what works for you, and what doesn’t.
F = Favourite Position (This goes without saying. Will probably include a visual)
Missionary, since he usually uses his mouth, fingers or a strap-on to pleasure you - and he wants to be able to look at your face, kiss your lips and hold you in his arms during sex. Gabriel is a very tactile person, and extremely touch-starved, so he actually NEEDS to be held, caressed and comforted. It’s the main reason why he enjoys making love to you so much, because the physical intimacy is something he’d never experienced before.
G = Goofy (Are they more serious in the moment, or are they humorous, etc)
I wouldn’t say he’s particularly goofy, but he isn’t very stoic either. If anything awkward ensures during sex, he will try to make you laugh about it, so that you can relax and move on.
H = Hair (How well groomed are they, does the carpet match the drapes, etc.)
He doesn’t actually have a private area of his own, and its pretty much Madison’s business as to how she grooms her nether region. He doesn’t actually care about those parts, since he never uses them.
I = Intimacy (How are they during the moment, romantic aspect…)
Very intimate, very romantic and very needy. As stated above, he craves physical contact, and he melts whenever you treat him with gentleness and affection. Hold him, kiss him, caress his scarred cheeks, and tell him how good he makes you feel, and Gabriel will be putty in your hands.
J = Jack Off (Masturbation headcanon)
He doesn’t actually partake in this act, as he doesn’t enjoy looking at, or touching the private parts of the body he shares with his sister. But sometimes, he fantasizes about what he would do to you, if he had a body of his own.
K = Kink (One or more of their kinks)
Gabriel is surprisingly vanilla, but he can be pretty dominant in the bedroom. He will pin your wrists above your head, as he fucks you into the mattress, or guide you into touching yourself, his voice a mere growl coming from your phone’s speaker. Knife kink, maybe, but only when it comes to cutting off your clothes. He doesn’t wanna hurt you, so unless you insistently ask him to, Gabriel won’t hold his makeshift dagger to your throat, or drag its blade across your skin. After all, he has other ways to let out his violent frustrations, so he feels no need to bring that to the bedroom. He was hurt by people who abhorred him, and he returned the favour years later. Love and violence do not cross paths in Gabriel’s mind.
Also clothed sex, because he enjoys wearing his leather coat and gloves, as he teases your naked body mercilessly.
L = Location (Favourite places to do the do)
Anywhere inside the house, but the bedroom is his favourite, because it’s more private and safe. Plus, he enjoys taking his time, so the bed is the most comfortable option when it comes to lengthy lovemaking sessions.
M = Motivation (What turns them on, gets them going)
Whenever you treat Gabriel with kindness and love, he will feel the need to bring you pleasure, and show you just how much he covets you. For him, sex is a means of expressing his affection for you - it’s an act of adoration and gratitude.
N = NO (Something they wouldn’t do, turn offs)
He will NOT hurt you, ever, no matter how much you insist. You are the only person who has ever treated him right, and he cannot bear the thought of harming you in any way.
O = Oral (Preference in giving or receiving, skill, etc)
Enjoys giving, and is very enthusiastic about it. This boy will eat you out for hours, and has become fucking expert at it. He knows just how to angle his face, and use his teeth and tongue to cause you maximum pleasure. Your taste is heaven to him, and your needy moans and whimpers are music to his ears. He will edge you, he will overstimulate you, he will play your body like a violin, using his mouth and fingers alone.
P = Pace (Are they fast and rough? Slow and sensual? etc.)
Depends on the mood. Slow and sensual is his go to, but he can be rough if you ask him to. But regardless of the pace, Gabriel is ALWAYS very passionate, and completely dedicated to your pleasure. Also, this boy is inhumanly strong, so he may end up becoming rough without even realizing it - but in case it becomes too much, all you have to do is tell him, and Gabriel will apologise and treat you more gently.
Q = Quickie (Their opinions on quickies rather than proper sex, how often, etc.)
Not opposed to them, but he prefers taking his time.
R = Risk (Are they game to experiment, do they take risks, etc.)
He’s willing to try anything, so long as it doesn’t cause you any actual harm. Hickeys and faint finger-shaped bruises happen a lot, since he doesn’t always calibrate his strength properly all the time.
S = Stamina (How many rounds can they go for, how long do they last…)
Oh, he could go on forever. Remember he experiences pleasure exclusively through you, so he never gets tired of it.
T = Toy (Do they own toys? Do they use them? On a partner or themselves?)
Oh, yes, 100% a fan of toys, all of them meant to drive you utterly insane with pleasure.
U = Unfair (how much they like to tease)
The most unfair and maddeningly patient tease to ever walk this Earth. He will edge you until you’re crying and begging for release - and only then will he CONSIDER to maybe let you cum.
V = Volume (How loud they are, what sounds they make)
Low growls and muffled moans are the best he can do - although he may use your phone’s speaker to talk dirty to you.
W = Wild Card (Get a random headcanon for the character of your choice)
Gabriel really enjoys sucking on and playing with your nipples. And, yes, he has actually made you cum by solely teasing and fondling your chest.
X = X-Ray (Let’s see what’s going on in those pants, picture or words)
As I said, he uses a strap-on, which is just the right length and thickness to bring you maximum pleasure. In fact, the more I think about it, the more inclined I am to believe he consulted with you before buying it.
Y = Yearning (How high is their sex drive?)
I would say his sex drive is medium to low, so unless you initiate it - case in which he will be delighted to take you to the bedroom - he will rarely bring it up. But he does have his moments, when he simply craves your passionate embrace.
Z = ZZZ (… how quickly they fall asleep afterwards)
It depends. Sometimes he falls asleep as soon as aftercare has been performed, and sometimes he stays awake a little while longer, just to watch you sleep peacefully by his side.
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xseaxwitchxkpop · 3 years
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NSFW Alphabet: Sub!Yeosangie Edition
A/N: I couldn't wait I had to do this now lol what is patience??? Also forgive any mistakes I wrote this at like 2am lmfao
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A = Aftercare (What they’re like after sex)
Doesn't matter what kind of sex it was, he will always be a content and giggling baby boy afterwards. He absolutely needs nose kisses and boops as rewards, like a cat, and needs to bury his face in your neck so he can smell your scent as a way to calm him and bring him back down to earth. He will also love it when you gently thumb his cheekbones!
B = Body part (Their favourite body part of theirs and also their partner’s)
His favorite body part on him is probably his hands just because he uses them so often to hide his face when he's flustered. His favorite body part on his partner would probably be the neck because he is another one of the members that values intimacy and there's something very sensual and intimate yet very possessive about his face and head buried in your neck.
C = Cum (Anything to do with cum basically… I’m a disgusting person)
He doesn't really have a strong preference for cumplay of any type and he doesn't have a strong opposition to any cumplay either. So long as you're having your way with and he's living his best sex life, he doesn't care if you spit his load in his mouth and make him swallow it or if you cum in ass with your dick or fake cum
D = Dirty Secret (Pretty self explanatory, a dirty secret of theirs)
He'd only have kinky sex as a submissive with a partner he loves and trusts dearly so he's pretty open about want he wants and doesn't really have much of a dirty secret to keep. However, if you pull at his teeth hard enough, you will find out that the one fantasy he has been keeping from you is that he wants you to have him use a hollow dildo on you during his caging period for that extra layer of humiliation and degradation...plus you don't have to be punished when he is also being punished during this fantasy
E = Experience (How experienced are they? Do they know what they’re doing?)
He's had hook ups in the past, not a high count or anything, maybe like 5 or 6, but those were always relatively vanilla and/or had him in a more dominant position which he wasn't a big fan of. He knows what he's doing when pleasuring you, that's for sure, but in a solid relationship, he learned to let himself go and found that he absolutely CANNOT go back to even a shadow of a dominant position in bed.
F = Favourite Position (This goes without saying. Will probably include a visual)
His favorite position is definitely cowgirl, with you on top. He loves that with this position he has easy access to your thighs and ass, the ease with which you can choke him lightly or more intensely, and the sheer amount of control you have in this position while allowing him to touch you because that's how he grounds himself, always has to be touching some part of you or you touching some part of him.
G = Goofy (Are they more serious in the moment, or are they humorous, etc)
Sex with Yeosang is light-hearted most of time, very warm, very giggly, very cute, and very humorous. He likes cracking jokes or delivering some dry wit and sarcasm in the bedroom because that's just who he is and he doesn't see why that can't translate to the bedroom. Because of this, I feel he would prefer gentle domination and a partner who should know how to banter well both outside and inside the bedroom. He does like it slow and sensual sometimes, but if he's in a very soft mood, he'll prefer sensual touches rather than sex itself. On occasion he does like it rough and fast, but it's gotta be a VERY specific mood for him.
H = Hair (How well groomed are they, does the carpet match the drapes, etc.)
Like the others, definitely trims but just calls it a day at that. He doesn't really bother with shaving all the way and doesn't care if you don't either.
I = Intimacy (How are they during the moment, romantic aspect…)
Another member that values intimacy to the highest degree! Humor is part of how he connects with people and navigates the world, so the same is to be said in the bedroom. He loves when you make him a giggly mess with humor in the bedroom with and feels more connected each time. Surprisingly, he doesn't shy away from eye contact and he actually really likes it because it adds another layer of intimacy to the experience! Also forehead kisses...you might be the dominant one, but there's something so sweet and reassuring and very intimate yet possessive about subs giving their doms/dommes forehead kisses and that's exactly what he does to you! Every single y'all have sex, without fail, no matter how kinky or light.
J = Jack Off (Masturbation headcanon)
The only times he really jacks off is either guided masturbation from you or if he is intensely horny to the point it is literally interfering with what he has to do that day in which he'll just get it done and over with in the shower or a quick one in the bathroom. This has nothing to do with rules put in place, he just doesn't have a high sex drive despite his incredibly dirty humor.
K = Kink (One or more of their kinks)
He's open to trying most things, but not as many things as San. Some of Yeosang's kinks would include choking, biting, hair pulling, light restraints, sensory deprivation, voice kink, temperature play, edging, pegging/anal play, caging, light nipple play, marking, and nail scratching.
L = Location (Favourite places to do the do)
Literally any place he can comfortably lay flat because his fave position is cowgirl. One of his top favorites, however, is a rather large ottoman that he has to prop himself up on by the elbows when he leans back in a sitting position so you have to kind of sit on his lap and this forces him to use his lower body strength because he also has to fuck into you if you're fucking him in this position. Also don't forget, when the mood hits him, to rail him on a table or counter or coffee table or on a balcony window with him wearing a skirt and oversized sweater!
M = Motivation (What turns them on, gets them going)
You commanding him to do something with a gentle and sweet voice gets him going like nothing else. The best part is that you can do this in public very blatantly and none would be the wiser save for you and him. What also really turns him on is when you're very attentive and can read him easily without having to ask or say anything; you do that, he will pounce on you and be the best service top you could ask for.
N = NO (Something they wouldn’t do, turn offs)
Touch deprivation. I know I said he is into sensory deprivation and he is -- just more so in the sight, hearing, and scent departments, those he can handle. If he can't feel you somewhere on his body, whether you touching him or vice versa, he will freak out and immediately get pulled out of sub space, even if he's very deep in it (and being pulled abruptly from sub space or dom/domme space is very harsh on the psyche and can take minutes to DAYS to rectify and heal so is a very big no-no in the BDSM community). He also does not like to share at all; you are his and he is yours, no negotiation. He's a very possessive submissive because he trusts you with a side of him that maybe one or two other people know about and that is his safe space -- he cannot have others enter that space because he would no longer feel safe.
O = Oral (Preference in giving or receiving, skill, etc)
If asked what heaven was, he would respond with you sitting on his face and tugging at his hair. That's his favorite position to give you oral! He also really likes when you go down on him because one wrong move and you could easily bite his dick...it's the power you yield with nothing but your mouth on his most intimate parts and a hand on his thigh and another on his abdomen.
P = Pace (Are they fast and rough? Slow and sensual? etc.)
As I've pointed out earlier, light-hearted sex is what he likes best, so the pace is...moderate? There's nothing pushing y'all to be fast and rough and there's not an air of heavy emotion and lustful passion for each other so y'all just go at a pace that's matches whatever happy and joyful mood and banter is happening. On the rare occasion he does want it rough and fast, he wants to be brutally fucked until he can't think, can't make a sound, tears staining his cheeks, asshole gaping, and drool running down the sides of his mouth, panting to try to catch his breath.
Q = Quickie (Their opinions on quickies rather than proper sex, how often, etc.)
He really doesn't like them. He prefers taking his time and having what could be called "care-free sex."
R = Risk (Are they game to experiment, do they take risks, etc.)
He likes experimenting with new things every once in a while, but for the most part, he likes to stick with what works and if something new works well, he adds it to his rotation.
S = Stamina (How many rounds can they go for, how long do they last…)
Can go two or three rounds, depending on his mood and level of exhaustion. With rough and fast sex, he can only take one round unless you decide to overstimulate him (which is every time) in which you can draw out two orgasms, one after the other. But then he is spent and it's aftercare time!
T = Toy (Do they own toys? Do they use them? On a partner or themselves?)
He's got a set of dildos and anal plugs, mainly to prep himself for you, but you'll sometimes use them on him to fuck him with unless you're using a strap on. He also has a couple of cock cages because he's into chastity and a couple of cock rings for fun, but other than that, he prefers good old touching and teasing with what you and he were born with.
U = Unfair (how much they like to tease)
His teasing comes in the form of banter and benign insults, hoping you'll engage and respond with a hand on his throat or a quick dick grab. Other than that, he isn't much of a tease -- if anything, his partner is the tease to him because it's so easy to make him flustered.
V = Volume (How loud they are, what sounds they make)
He's certainly not the loudest in the bunch, but if you hit his spot just right, he'll be moaning so fucking loudly that it could be heard on the planet Mars. For the most part, though, he just pants and lets out whimpers here and there, most of his enjoyment is shown through his body language and facial expressions.
W = Wild Card (Get a random headcanon for the character of your choice)
He absolutely lives for wearing lacy lingerie beneath his clothing just for you. He doesn't so this as often as he'd like to because of his job as an idol, but when he can, he takes full advantage and wears a lacy bralette AND lacy underwear that does nothing to support his dick btw.
X = X-Ray (Let’s see what’s going on in those pants, picture or words)
His length is average but he is on the girthier side which caused you to have to work yourself open and up to his size. The first time he dove into you wasn't terribly painful, but there was a bit of a sharp pain that quickly disappeared into pleasure.
Y = Yearning (How high is their sex drive?)
I'd say he probably has an above average sex drive, but not necessarily a high one. He is a healthy male who is in damn good shape, so it goes to say that his sez drive might increase a bit because of that. Anyway, sex itself isn't frequent but there are loads of sensual touches all the time -- he can't get enough of you in that sense.
Z = ZZZ (… how quickly they fall asleep afterwards)
The atmosphere created with the typical light-hearted sex y'all engage in added with the sleepiness of post-orgasm bliss makes for a perfect concoction of sleeping medication. You're warm and content, he's warm and content, so y'all fall asleep in each other's arms. For the rough and fast sex, though, you have to make sure he doesn't fall asleep immediately so he doesn't go into sub drop, so you do your best to lightly tap him on the cheek and keep him talking, hydrated, and fed.
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Note
For the AiB headcanon thing: Arisu and Usagi are in a queerplatonic relationship. This isn’t News, it's canon. The thing is, people at the beach, including most of the executives, think that they are a full blown couple. This makes things awkward when Niragi catches Arisu and Chishiya agressively making out one day and reports back to Hatter. Hatter goes to Usagi being all "hey girly, hate to be the one to tell you this but your bf is cheating on you". Usagi has 2 possible answers for this: she either goes "Hatter, I'm a lesbian." Or, full blank faced says in a deadpan "oh noooo. How will i get over this."
(So I had to look up the particulars of queer-platonic relationships because they’re kind of new to me, which was a cool learning experience! That being said, I apologize if I got the gist of it wrong—feel free to correct me if you want! I like learning!)
(Also, this is basically PG, only very slight allusions to anything spicy, so anyone can read it!)
🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸
“Let’s talk about boys.”
Usagi’s heart skips—and not in a good way. Of all the trouble she could have gotten into today, tea with Hatter is perhaps one of the worst options; because it’s never just ‘tea’ or ‘drinks’ or ‘listening to The Doors’ self-titled album while we craft new locker key bracelets.’
No. He definitely has an ulterior motive.
“Specifically,” Hatter clarifies, snapping another grape from the bowl of fruit between them, “yours.”
Usagi stiffens.
“Uh,” she says, taking a nervous sip of hibiscus tea, “what do you want to know?”
“It’s not what I want to know,” Hatter says lazily, admiring his gaudy ring in the early afternoon sunlight, “but what you might like to know, my dear.”
He knows. Usagi gulps nervously, fingertips gripping the delicate porcelain of her teacup a little tighter. Hatter somehow caught wind of Arisu and Chisiya’s plan to steal the cards, and now he’s gonna get me to confirm it.
“I’m not sure I follow…” Usagi recovers, setting her teacup down on the coffee table.
Hatter smirks.
“Your Arisu is a handsome young man, isn’t he? Strong jaw, lovely eyes,the long and elegant limbs of a dancer,” Hatter muses, “why, I imagine he could get away with murder with just a pout of those kissable lips…”
“He’s, uh,” Usagi stammers, “he’s v-very beautiful. I’m, uh…I’m a lucky girl, I guess?”
“Look at how your eyes light up when you talk about him—oh, aren’t you precious,” Hatter pouts, taking up his teacup and examining its contents, “Although I worry that won’t be the case for much longer…”
He watches Usagi over the rim of his teacup as he takes a long, slow sip—he’s waiting for her to react, he’s waiting for her to shatter and tell him all about the card-stealing scheme with tears streaming down her face and a wavering voice.
He’ll have to keep waiting.
Usagi Yuzhua doesn’t break.
“Arisu is a good man,” she insists, “I can’t imagine him doing something that bad.”
“That’s the difference between you and I, I suppose. You can’t imagine and I…well, I don’t have to.”
Hatter leans forward, resting his elbows on his knees. His chin perched on his right fist, he regards Usagi with a questioning look.
“Your beau,” he says, “he’s…rather close with that Chisiya fellow, isn’t he? I hardly ever see one without the other these days—surely you’ve noticed it, too.”
Usagi feels her palms start to sweat. Not good, not good, not good! She must have told them a hundred times to lay low, that the walls in this place may as well have eyes and ears for all the gossip that gets spread around.
“He and Chisiya are,” Usagi says weakly, “they’re good friends—“
“Very good friends,” Hatter clarifies, putting an uncomfortable amount of emphasis on the word very, “Makes one wonder just what on earth those two have been getting up to…”
“I-I don’t,” Usagi clears her throat, “If you have something to say, I’d rather you just tell me instead of…whatever it is you’re doing right now.”
Hatter chuckles.
“I’ll admit,” he says, leaning back into a relaxed slouch, “not many people speak to me like that these days. It’s…refreshing to see a young lady so unafraid to speak her mind.”
He plucks a strawberry from the spread in front of him, examining the glistening perfection of the ripe fruit in the light. With a casual glance thrown in her direction, Hatter twists off the green stem and pops the entire strawberry into his mouth.
“I didn’t mean to barge in—truly, I didn’t,” Hatter recounts, “I was fetching some documents from the meeting room; classified information, couldn’t let just anyone pick them up, so I simply decided to go get them myself.”
Usagi nods along politely. It’s very difficult to maintain her composure when it feels like there’s an axe above her head about to come swinging down at any moment, but she must be doing a good enough job because Hatter is still regaling her with his little adventure.
“…Well, you know how it is,” He says, shooting her a cheeky little wink, “Anyways, imagine my surprise when I opened the door to see that your darling dearest and that little blonde fellow were already there. And—oh, how do I put this?—they were very much up to something.”
“What, uh,” Usagi asks, “what were they up to?”
He must have caught them with the very documents Hatter had been going to retrieve—it had a detailed set of blueprints, plus all the information they’d need to formulate their escape once the cards had been stolen.
“I hate to be the one to tell you this, darling,” Hatter says with an air of fake regret, “but I saw your boyfriend and his best friend…”
Here it comes. Usagi’s stomach flips with nervousness. There’s a few windows in this room—not many, but maybe she could break one and escape if things got rough. She’s not really wearing the right shoes for that, but she would just have to make do.
“…in flagrante delicto,” Hatter says, drawing out each syllable for dramatic effect, “and right on the table, no less.”
“Oh.”
Relief crashes over Usagi like a wave. Of course Chisiya and Arisu wouldn’t have failed their mission—they’re two of the smartest, sneakiest people Usagi’s ever met, and snatching up a few documents wouldn’t be any kind of challenge for either of them.
…But Hatter is looking at her like she’s insane, jaw slack and sunglasses pushing his hair back to reveal a pair of very concerned eyes.
“I mean, oooooooooh,” Usagi attempts to recover, doing her best to appear hurt, “that’s, that’s terrible! I’m, uh…Arisu is going to be getting a stern talking-to when I get back to our room…”
Hatter does not seem impressed.
“Nice try, sister,” he snaps, crossing his arms across his chest and regarding her with an impatient look, “but I’m not falling for whatever cute little doe-eyed excuse you’re trying to sell me. You…you knew about this, didn’t you?”
Now, Usagi isn’t usually one to speak publicly about her relationships. In a place such as the Borderlands, it could…complicate matters, particularly when it comes to being paired up for games.
But right now? With Hatter staring at her with the fire of curiosity burning deep in his pupils, Usagi has no choice but to fill him in on their situation.
Who knows—maybe this could throw him off their trail even further?
“Arisu and I,” she starts carefully, “we’re…well, we’re in a queer-platonic relationship.”
“A what, now?”
“It’s,” Usagi considers how best to explain it to the gobsmacked man in front of her, “uh, I’m a lesbian and Arisu is still figuring out his sexuality, but he definitely doesn’t identify as straight.”
“But you’re…together,” he says slowly, the cogs in his strange little mind doing their best to process this information.
“Our relationship is mostly based on emotional intimacy. He loves me, and I love him,” Usagi explains, “it may not be what some would call a ‘conventional’ relationship, but we’re happy together.”
Hatter ponders. The takes a wedge of pineapple and pops it into his mouth, chewing thoughtfully.
“So, the whole thing between Arisu and Chisiya,” he asks, “that’s…everybody’s cool with it?”
Usagi laughs lightly.
“Yes,” she nods, “in fact, I’m happy to hear that Arisu and Chisiya are, uh, finally expressing their feelings for each other.”
“Oh, they were expressing something,” Hatter muses, “Don’t worry—I left them to it. Far be it from me to interrupt young love…or whatever the hell that Chisiya kid’s got going on, I don’t pretend to know.”
He shrugs.
“Well, anyways,” Hatter concludes, “their business is their business, and I’m not one to pry.”
Usagi doubts that, but nods along anyways.
“But you, though,” he adds, lifting the delicate little teapot on the table and topping off her hibiscus tea, “since you’re already here, and we’re having such a lovely time together…”
Usagi gulps, that feeling of ‘this is not good’ settling into her stomach once again.
“…Let’s talk about girls.”
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poptod · 3 years
Text
Pull the Stars Out of the Sky (And Gift Them to Me), pt. 11, (Ahkmenrah x Reader)
Description: Thunder for the God.
Notes: this is it! the final chapter. I wanna say thank you to a few people cause I rarely ever respond to comments directly, mostly cause i never know what to say, but @diasimar, @edteche2, @moon-stars-soul, @crewman-penelope, @hah0106, thank you so fuckin much for your comments!! it really kept me going while i was working and really motivated me. im rly worried this last chapter is gonna disappoint but i gotta post it at some point! WC: 1.7k
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A feast was held. Of course it was––the only way Egyptians knew how to celebrate was with plenty of food, plenty of booze, and lots of sex. Already people wrote songs of your exploits, performing them as they waited for you and Ahk to appear in the courtroom now filled to the brim with the people of Memphis. Clashing drums and lutes accompanied by harps and singing voices all came from behind the walls, but the room Ahk prepared himself in remained mostly quiet, occupied only by you and himself. Piye was busy tending to the citizens with the help of Gyasi, who offered his services in helping the now-blind vizier.
"I never thought to see this day," Ahk said softly, staring at his reflection in the mirror. His outfit, which had taken about an hour to get on (plus makeup), left him the striking image of the Pharaoh you had first met––drowned in gold, in gemstones, reeking of rich, spoiled tastes.
"What, that you'd be attending a party in your own honor?" You asked with a chuckle.
"No," he said, turning to you, "I didn't think I'd see you willingly stand beside me."
"I didn't either. I hated you."
"Rightfully so," he mumbled. "I'm sorry, again, for how I treated you."
"You could've been a lot nicer while kidnapping me."
"I know. But you're happy now... right?"
"Yes," you said, grinning. "What would you do if I wasn't?"
"Abandon everything," he said with a careless shrug. "Run away with you. Leave it all behind."
"Even with a feast outside those doors?" You asked as you stepped closer. He took advantage of that, pulling you in by your waist and smiling when your chests met.
"Well, I might have to go to that first. But afterwards, I would go anywhere for you. Do anything. You are mine, now," he said, growing soft as his lips brushed against your temple, "and I have fought long to prove it."
"I think you belong to me more than I belong to you," you chuckled.
"Perhaps you're right," he said, swaying with you to the muted tunes of harpstrings. "I don't mind either way as long as you love me."
"I do," you mumbled.
"Say it," he said, parting from you to look you in the eye. His hand came up to your face, stroking the soft skin of your cheek as he gazed into you, searching for words he had longed for all this time. "Please."
"I love you, Ahk."
There he went again––tears down his face, dripping into and caught by the smile that spread across his rosy lips. He leant in to kiss you, still wet with those salty tears, but you happily returned his affections.
Until his kiss grew deep, devolving into him biting at your neck again, pressing himself against your body till your back inevitably hit a wall. He sandwiched you there, running his hands from your chest to your hips and back up to your face.
"Now then, your people wait for you. Don't disappoint them by not showing up," you warned him, but there was little resolve in your tone, already torn up by the blush pervading your cheeks.
"I'll be quick," he muttered against your skin, followed by a laugh when you groaned.
"But you can also do this later, when you can take your time," you said, but couldn't stop yourself from smiling even as you tried to push him away.
"I can do it twice."
"Ahk!"
"Call my name again, love," he said, drawing away from you with a shit-eating grin.
"We can do this after," you said as you fully pushed him away. "Even during, depending how the evening goes."
"I like how you think," Ahk said, offering his hand to you with a cocked chin raised high. "Ready to go?"
You nodded.
The doors before you opened, and a short walk up to the throne led you to overlook the crowd, scanning over every citizen's face whose eyes fell to you. Without a word spoken from you or Ahk, silence fell in the hall crowded past the brim. Torches flanked either side of the long room, illuminating the moving heads, as well as marking the searing smoke of meat and the plates of food presented out on the many tables.
It was not unlike the feast for Amun, but this time the only human images standing on a podium were you and Ahk. No more golden statues. Now what remained was the Pharaoh in all his glory, glowing as though blessed with an ethereal light, sheer silk with sewn gold cascading from him like a comet trailing the sky.
Once most everyone's attention was on the Pharaoh, he spoke.
"I know that much of my rule has not been through peaceful times," he said, meeting the eyes of every listener. "I thank you all for your patience with me. We have seen the rising of my brother's empire, and it has ended in ruin––we have seen the death of three Pharaohs, myself included."
A quiet laugh murmured through the crowd. Out of the corner of your eye, you spied Piye sticking to the wall by themself. You jogged over, whispering a beckoning, before taking their hand and personally leading them up the pedestal.
"I am sure you have all heard of what I've done. The events that have come to pass. Whether or not you have the whole of the story, or any true part of the story, is what worries me. I want all of you to know why I did what I did––why, exactly, I am not a heretic. You deserve that much."
Ahk spoke as though conversing with an old friend, something you were sure made his approval rating amongst the populace skyrocket. He continued that tone of voice, that familiarity, as he recounted the long events of the past few months, from your appearance in the castle (which he labelled as a gift from the Gods), to Ma'at herself locking Amun into the sky. They all listened closely, believing every word of their loving Pharaoh.
"I did what I did to protect myself, my people, and my friends. They were necessary evils. But now I have Ma'at's blessing, and I take my rightful place as your Pharaoh," he said with a growing confidence that boomed in his projected voice. "I am Ra's Son once more."
An eruption of cheers and shouts burst your ears, and you grinned from ear to ear, glancing to your side to watch for Ahk's reaction. He was smiling as well, prideful as he deserved. Piye held their own small smile as well.
Instruments came back in full swing, humming and thrumming with the vibrations of the tall chamber. Though at first they were the melodies of many songs, playing one after the other without pause, they converged into a tune that filled your head, seeping into the thoughts of every listener. You paid little attention to the words they sang in perfect harmonies till a word caught your attention––your name. Looking out across the citizens of Memphis, of Kemet, you realized they were singing about you.
The fire that reigns on the burning King will never yield to the sword! The spells that remain pour down in the rain as the Nile boils in the sea
What wonders they bring! This thunder for the God, Amoke and the hundreds that sing the name of the God, Amoke
Pray to the earth for a saving grace As the magi searches the planes The dead, they seek The living antique a God of his own who can't rest on his throne Call to the name of the holy
We sing to thee! Sunset for the God, Amoke Sing praise for thee! Thunder for the God, Amoke Thunder for the God, Amoke! The beauty of the God, Amoke!
Your mouth hung open as you watched them sing, ignorant to Ahk, who was now smiling at your shocked expression.
"... and so will you be remembered," Ahk murmured, his arms wrapping around you as he came up behind you. "A God for all of time.”
“My Amoke."
~+~
You had access to great temples––to places of worship hundreds of years old, intricately detailed spells shown on every wall, bases of golden statues littered with flowers and offerings. Instead you stuck to your tiny altar, hidden away in one of the smaller storage rooms not in use. Ahk didn't quite understand it, but he allowed it happily, and left you alone to your devices.
The only item standing on your altar was a tiny statuette in the form of Mahjur. If Ahk found out that was who you were praying to, you weren't sure what he'd do, so for the time being you kept it secret. Besides that, it was nothing more than a table you set incense and tiny plates of food and water on.
It was the only light in the room––the tiny rushlight, the lit incense drawing smoke into the air. Layers of it fell above your head, knelt low in respect of the God who had helped you.
Physical feeling fell away, and in that moment, your forehead pressed to the table, you realized the many prayers you'd sent into the stranger of an underworld were being answered at last.
A single, high note rang in your head as the image of open, glowing eyes pierced your thoughts.
"Is Ahk ssssafe?" They asked in a whisper in your head that you could barely hear.
Yes, you thought, keeping your eyes closed to maintain the connection.
"... you haavvvvve.. other questionss... correct?"
Amun is an all-powerful God, yes?
"Yes."
How did we escape him? How did we hide away? Why did he not pluck me from the sky? How did we survive the ire of a creator God?
"Ahk hasss cccertain experiencess... with Gods. He issss ssssmart. He isss untraceable by annnny Gods' mmagggic."
How? You pleaded.
"He hass died annnnd come back. He issss... undead. No longer human. Nnnnot entirrrrely."
You swallowed thick, forcing yourself not to open your eyes from surprise.
And Piye?
"A mmmmagi. Invvvvissssible. Too... absorbed innn the world.. to see," they hummed, glowing eyes still probing your thoughts.
... and me?
There was silence for a moment, and the eyes blinked, but remained within your head.
"You... are not.. hhhhuman," they whispered.
Your eyes flew open.
What?
––––––
If you want to hear the song I wrote about in this story, I actually recorded it and you can find it here.
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mediocre--writing · 3 years
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I saw your plea and knew this was my time to shine 😤 could you do a Neville long bottom x reader fic where the reader is confident and outgoing and he has a secret crush? I feel like it’s borderline cliche at this rate but I cant get enough of the trope 😫😫😫 I love love love your blog by the way!
Summary: Neville feels insecure compared to his longterm crush, Y/n.
Word Count: 1605
Warnings: none
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Neville was shy.
This was not a secret to anyone in Hogwarts.
He blushed and hid his face at any attention, he didn’t speak loudly or draw attention to himself, and he most definitely didn’t make an effort to have large groups of friends.
But he admired those who did, Y/n, for example, was someone he enjoyed watching flutter around the great hall during meals, talking to anyone in any house, regardless of what year they were in.
She was spectacular in every way.
Her smile was unparalleled, her confidence shone brighter then anyone’s, and she thrived in large groups.
She was so incredible because she was nothing like him. Nothing compared to how pathetic he felt when he’d watch her laugh across the room, nothing like how he was unable to speak to anyone about anything, since his interests were limited and he feared other’s opinions rather than just living as he wished.
He felt the most inferior to her when they began the DA in 5th year.
Of course she would be invited, everyone loved her and she was close to Hermione grade-wise, so she would probably excel in learning new spells and dueling anyone.
Neville loved watching her talk with the other members, never catching her eye, because who on Earth would look at him when there were so many other options?
As of now, she was giggling with the twins, who were betting on Ron and Hermione’s duel. Her eyes were sparkling in the soft lights of the Room of Requirement and she felt like a magnet, drawing eyes to her without trying.
Neville was so lost in his trance that he didn’t realize that Harry had called for everyone to join in.
He was shaken out of his trance, however, when he felt a warm hand on his shoulder, he turned to face Harry, who was looking around the room for someone to practice with neville.
Because again, who would want him?
Neville felt like dying before he heard someone respond to Harry’s request for anyone without a partner.
But not just anyone.
Y/n… ‘s friend, Pepper, he believes her name is. She’s in Gryffindor, though, maybe a year older than him.
Pepper was a bit more on the shy side, like Neville, but she still hung around in large groups, with Y/n, and though Neville had never searched for her explicitly, he knew of her from watching Y/n.
It wasn’t that awful.
Really!
Neville, as bad as he was at spell-casting, was better than Pepper was, though he wasn’t sure if she was really trying all that hard in the first place.
The meeting was over sooner than he’d expected, though a part of him felt like he’d been there for years.
“So, Neville, what do you do?”
Neville looked up at Pepper, who was twiddling with her wand while watching him with a small smile, “Do you play quidditch or anything, I know you’re not on the Gryffindor team, but do you play?”
“I’ve never really had much luck with brooms,” Neville blushed, of course, “It looks fun, but it’s a bit stressful, if you ask me,”
Pepper giggled, “Well you should try to fly, you know it’s really exhilarating once you get the hang of it.”
“I guess,”
It was getting awkward now.
“My friend can teach you, she’s really great, on her house team and everything! She’s a great chaser and I’m sure she’d love to show you!”
Neville felt cornered. To be completely honest, he never wanted to ride a broom again, but Pepper seemed so excited about him doing it he felt bad saying no.
“Uhh… sure, I guess?”
“Perfect!” Pepper said, a bit loudly for Neville’s taste as a few eyes were on them now. “What are you doing tomorrow? It’s a Hogsmeade weekend but do you think you could come to the Quidditch pitch around 2-ish?”
“Oh sure,” Neville agreed, though he wasn’t sure why.
So he’d made a bed he had to lie in.
What the hell was he thinking?
As he walked down the trail from Hogsmeade, he was thinking of ways that this could go horribly wrong, he could fall, or trip, or make a fool of himself. But on the plus side, if he fell, he may just die then and there, which wouldn’t be quite as embarrassing.
Neville was trying his best to talk himself into it, though it was hard, for there was no plus side or silver lining that he could see.
When he’d gotten down to the pitch, he’d noticed a girl sitting in the middle of the field, two brooms next to her.
Once he’d gotten closer, he’d felt his heart shoot down to his feet.
It was Y/n.
The perfect, beautiful, absolutely amazing Y/n.
As if she could hear his hesitation, she turned, but had a look of surprise on her face as she took in who was standing there.
“Oh, Neville,” he didn’t like the way she sounded slightly disappointed, “I didn’t know it was you! How are you doing today?”
She was smiling, but he felt like it was fake. Like she had no motive to be here. It was probably a dare and she had to be nice to him and get him to embarrass himself.
“You ok?”
He looked up at her to see her eyebrows scrunched together in worry.
“Yeah, yeah,” He nodded and recollected his thoughts, “I’ve had a good day, and you?”
“It was alright, kind of a rough morning, if I’m being honest, but I hope it gets better from here.”
And it did.
It wasn’t nearly as stressful as Neville had been anticipating, and all his negative thoughts had begun to fade as he got more relaxed, both with Y/n and flying.
By the time the sky darkened, he’d practically been a natural, flying around the pitch with ease.
They began packing their things, Y/n grabbing the brooms and Neville got his sweater that he was wearing before he got too hot.
Walking back to the castle was silent, but nice and relaxed, no pressure and just two friends walking along the grounds.
“I need to be honest with you, Neville,” Y/n said abruptly as she turned to face him before they walked into the castle.
He knew it. It was too good to be true. She was going to admit that she was messing with him and hung out with him on a dare or something equally mortifying for him.
“...Okay?”
“I like you,” She sputtered out. “Like, like like you and I had Pepper come up to you yesterday to see what kind of person you are because I’ve had a crush on you since first year but you always seemed to be independent and you didn’t talk to many people but I always thought you were cute. And when she said she had wanted to take flying lessons today I was confused but agreed, then you showed up and I had the best time.
“I understand if you don’t like me back, but I just thought you should know.”
Neville was…
He didn’t really know what he was.
Shocked, for sure.
A little confused, to be honest.
Absolutely elated at the news, though.
“Are you serious? You actually like me? I didn’t even know you knew who I was!”
“You’re kidding, right?” She threw her head back as she laughed, “I stare at you all the time, it’s actually kinda sad that I haven’t made a move yet.”
“You stare at me?”
“No!” She shouted suddenly, “Yes, but not in a creepy way, I promise.”
“I stare at you too, sometimes,” Neville admitted with a blush.
“You’re really pretty, Nev,” Y/n commented as she brushed a few hairs out of his face, staring into his eyes.
“Thank you,” He chuckled, ducking his head down in embarrassment before she lifted his chin so they were eye-to-eye. “I think you’re stunning as well.”
She smiled, a genuine smile that he wished to see every day for the rest of his life.
She began to lean in, their eyes slowly closing as they kissed, and Neville swore his knees gave out, but he powered through and tried to kiss back without it being too awkward or doing something wrong.
It was a moment before they pulled apart, but he had never felt that happy before in his life.
Y/n agreed. She’d been silently pining over Neville for far too long and he was everything and more than she’d ever imagined.
“We should do this again,” Neville commented.
“The kissing or the date?” He smiled at her with love in his eyes, “Cause I’d like to do both, if you would?”
When Neville had walked back to his dormitory, still in a daze, Ron, Harry, Seamus, and Dean had all given him strange looks.
Neville flopped onto his bed and had yet to realize that there was a small, pinkish-red lipstick kiss on his cheek from when he’d said goodbye to Y/n.
The boys, however, saw it the second he walked through the door, and bombarded him, but refused to believe him when he’d said that he’d gone on a date with, and kissed, the Y/n L/n.
Though, the boys were shocked to see that as Neville sat down at his spot in the Great Hall, she had come over and placed a quick peck on his cheek before sitting next to him and chattering away as if they were old friends.
Who’d have thought, Neville got the girl.  
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scarlet--wiccan · 3 years
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your ideal billy/teddy duo comic (plot, character designs, artists and writers involved etc)
One thing that I've always wanted to see is a comic about Billy and/or Teddy that was produced entirely by mlm creators. Vecchio, Robles and Gracia are all gay artists who've worked with the characters on recent titles, and I'm eager to see more from them. While none of these artists have ever shown the characters in a way that exactly suits my wants, they've each demonstrated a clear personal vision of who Billy and Teddy are that I can respect. I find that Vecchio and Robles, as illustrators, both articulate a gay sensibility in their designs and are able to represent a range of gay identities and expressions with not only dignity, but real love, which is frustratingly hard to come by. Oh, also, Kevin Wada covers, because duh.
Writers are a little bit more difficult for me. I love Anthony Oliviera and I know that he's got a lot of ideas for the characters, so I'd be delighted to see anything that he might pitch. Vecchio also does write, and his creator-owned series, Sereno, is an urban superhero story in a modern fantasy setting-- something he describes as Batman Beyond meets Sailor Moon. Based on that, I think he'd do a great job telling a story about a witch and shapeshifter from New York. I know that Sina doesn't work for Marvel anymore, but I've always wished he could've done Billy and Teddy in a sweet little rom-com miniseries, or even just a single issue special. He's particularly good at writing tender, funny, and just unapologetically gay characters who signal authentic elements of our culture and community without making them cheap or laughable. That is a quality which I find essential for Billy and Teddy, and it's part of why I want more mlm creators to work with them.
If you had asked me this question last year, I would have had an easier time pitching ideas for these characters. I'm eager to see what the future holds for them, but "rulers of an interplanetary nation" was never part of my vision for how Billy and Teddy would be spending their early twenties. I did have this idea for an ongoing series about their "college years", wherein Billy would be studying magic with Wanda and Agatha, and Teddy would work part time with Carol or Alpha Flight while attending community college or learning a trade, like piercing or tattoo artistry. The idea was that they'd often spend time apart, as they'd each be focusing on their own careers and having individual storylines, but they'd always come home to each other at the end of the day and lend each other support, in ways both mundane and super-heroic.
I used to imagine that they'd stay in that nice apartment Sunspot got them, which would act as sort of a crash pad/base of operations for a revolving cast of their friends. They could convert one of the rooms into a magical sanctum for Billy, and another into a study room or art studio for Teddy. Tommy, America, Kate, or whoever could crash on their sofa whenever they're in town or need to do a team-up. Wanda could help Billy ward the apartment so that he and America are the only ones who can portal in and out, but then Loki would find a way to get around the wards and cause trouble, and there'd be a whole dramatic reunion. The whole idea could easily be adapted as a Young Avengers ongoing if you widened the focus from the main couple and treated it as an ensemble piece with individually chunked plot-arcs, much like the original series.
Unfortunately, that idea no longer holds as much water as I'd like because, for one thing, they lost that apartment and never explained why-- it seems like it was passively retconned out in between New Avengers and Death's Head. More importantly, they now live in space, with Teddy being a busy ruler of an interstellar Alliance, and Billy his prince-consort.
I would still like to explore the idea of them pursuing separate goals and working in separate fields while never being truly apart. Empyre introduced a clever plot device wherein Billy is now able to sense Teddy's location and teleport to him instantly, no matter the distance, which, I assume, works in reverse as well. This feat of magic is made possible by their marriage, which binds them symbolically and draws on the power of their love. They can go anywhere and do anything on their own, and still be together again at a moments' notice, which is super romantic and also affords them more flexibility than most superhero couples. I would still pitch a series about Billy doing magic work on Earth while Teddy does diplomacy in space, and one can always warp to the other when they need backup fighting a bad guy. They could even switch back and forth between staying on Teddy's throne-ship, and getting cozy at Billy's little Manhattan apartment when they want to get away from it all.
I guess my final answer is that I want the two of them to be fully realized, individual characters whose love is illustrated through mutual support rather than, like, being glued to each other's hips. The things that I want to see Billy doing are very far removed from the things that I want to see Teddy doing. Superhero characters tend to lose momentum when you marry them off, and superhero couples tend to fizzle when you keep them apart, but Billy and Teddy's unique strength is that they're never truly apart, and their relationship never seems to lose steam-- they've been a pair from the start, and... they're a little obsessed with each other.
The Billy story that I most want to see right now is a full Maximoff team-up. It could go in one of two directions: A) a quest to uncover Natalya's history and finally vanquish the Emerald Warlock, in which they're waylaid by Doom and other magic villains from their past, while teaming up with their magical friends around the world-- basically a sequel to Scarlet Witch; or, B) a showdown with Krakoa and a resolution of their relationship with Erik, which, best case scenario, partially reverses the Axis retcon and proves once and for all that the Maximoffs are mutants. If we got a longer series, we could actually do both plots-- they learn something about Natalya which leads them back to Erik, and the two arcs become a larger story.
The Teddy story that I most want to see is a Guardians-esque space romp with political elements featuring Teddy, Xavin and Noh-Varr as, like, a sexy-alien-boys version of the Gullwings from Final Fantasy X. Does that make sense? I don't have a great grasp on the political landscape of Marvel Space so it's a little hard for me to come up with details, but I know that the status quo has been totally upended, so there are going to be different factions and movements springing up, and likely no shortage of villains and space monsters rearing their heads when the dust of the war has fully settled. Teddy's a monarch now, but he's also been set up as this Arthurian hero-king, so I think there's still room for him to go on adventures and fight his own battles with his magic sword and, maybe, a crew of loyal space knights.
Having said aaaallll of that, I would absolutely die for a full-on fantasy adventure story with Billy and Teddy. I mean, Teddy's a king with a magic sword and his husband is a super-powerful witch. It's gotta happen. I'd actually be into them having a rematch with Mother, who is a pretty adaptable villain, in that her abilities and motives will differ depending on how she's been summoned. I'd also really like them to have a chance to go up against Sequoia directly, and on more even grounds. Quoi is such a great enemy for them because they represent the same generation of Avengers babies, and, actually, Quoi's origins are directly tied to Billy's-- their respective parents had a double wedding together. Sequoia and Teddy's arcs in Empyre paralleled and contrasted each other beautifully, but the two characters had no meaningful interactions. I want to see thems as arch rivals, and maybe, begrudgingly.... friends? Plus, I love that they're both alien princes who live in sci-fi stories, but whose aesthetics and powers are pure fantasy-- Quoi's a dryad wizard and Teddy is King Arthur, if King Arthur was a gay anthropomorphic dragon.
Anyways, that's my Wiccan+Hulkling pitch. The first arc is Billy and Teddy facing off against Sequoia in a magic forest that he's grown on his new planet, only to find out that they've been set up by Mother.
In the second arc, the three of them grudgingly team up against Mother while hashing out their shared backstories and giving Quoi, who's literally never had peers to relate to, a chance to fully come to grips with the way he was conditioned and manipulated by his father. Instead of conjuring dead parents, Mother seems to be able to summon dead children, which makes her particularly dangerous around the Cotati, Kree and Skrull, who've just emerged from a war and have countless recent dead.
In the third arc, Mother has freed R'kll and they've set their sights on Earth. Billy heads out with America and Tommy to ask Loki for advice on defeating her, while Teddy brings Sequoia before the Avengers as his charge in order to ensure that Quoi receives provisional immunity.
Loki is able to provide insight on how Mother might have been summoned and what the parameters might be for breaking the spell that's tethering her to Earth-616. It turns out that Mother is essentially holding Anelle's soul hostage and has been appearing to R'kll in her form. Mother's hold, at this point, has spread to the entire Alliance, and Teddy will have to defeat her or else she'll use it to destroy Earth and decimate his nation in the process.
Teddy recruits Wanda to help face Mother down. (side note, I'm desperate to see more of their relationship as in-laws.) Wanda agrees to work with Sequoia but insists on calling Mantis and making them talk.
The final showdown is the three boys, plus Wanda and Mantis, against Mother, R'kll, and an army of dead alien soldiers. Mantis and Wanda are able to pull Anelle's soul from Mother's grasp, but this doesn't banish her-- Mother's true anchor was R'kll, who'd been carrying Anelle's ghost in her heart ever since the destruction of Tarnax.
R'kll believes that she's always acted in the best interest of her nation, and she thought that bringing back Teddy's mother would finally make him see her way. Anelle and Teddy have a tearful reunion, but he admits that the only mother he's really mourned was the woman who raised him.
Wanda, Mantis, and Anelle, as a trio of mothers united with their lost sons, are able to reverse and seal Mother's power, which was based on lost children. They are not able to banish her, however, until R'kll steps forward and sacrifices herself, believing now that the best she can do for her nation is to rid the Alliance of the curse she brought upon it.
R'kll and Anelle begin to dissipate, but R'kll's sacrifice has called forth the spirit of Mrs. Altman, who is finally granted some closure and dignity in death by getting a chance to see how far Teddy's come and the peace that he's built in her memory.
Lots of crying! I made this sad. I'm sorry.
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warrioreowynofrohan · 4 years
Text
The Leithian Reread - Canto VI (Beren in Nargothrond)
While The Leithian-related plot of this canto focuses on Beren in Nargothrond, almost the first half of it is a brief summary of the Silmarillion from Return of the Noldor through to the Dagor Bragollach. Which I love, since those events for the most part aren’t coverered in Tolkien’s other poetic works, and I prefer the poetry structure of the Leithian to Tolkien’s other (non-rhyming, more Rohirric-sounding) pieces of epic poetry.
This is a good place to note, for readers who are new to the poetic Leithian, that some names are different from the Silm (Tolkien started a revised version with Silm-consistent names, but he didn’t get very far with it). The Noldor are referred to as the Gnomes - a rough transliteration of their elvish name into a human language, drawing from the Greek for ‘knowledge’. Tolkien later rejected this on the basis that the word was already too associated with entirely different mental images, but given how transformative his use of ‘elves’ was (typical fantasy elves are now almost all inspired by his ideas of tall, beautiful, long-lived immortals), we might have completely different concepts of ‘gnome’ now if he’s gone ahead with it. 
The second big diiference is that Finrod is referred to exclusively as Felagund - his Dwarven honorific - whereas his father Finarfin is referred to as Finrod. Tolkien had a lot of difficulty with Finarfin’s name and it went through a pile of different iterations. There are also other minor differences, like Finwë being referred to as Finn.
Returning to the poem - it’s hard to pick a favourite part of the summary section; I love so much of it. This is the closest I’m ever going to get to the Noldolantë (Tolkien wrote a couple pages of another poem focusing on the Return of the Noldor, but I don’t like it as much).
The mists were mantled round the towers
of the Elves’ white city by the sea.
There countless torches fitfully
did start and twinkle, as the Gnomes
were gathered to their fading homes
and thronged the wide and winding stair
that led to the wide echoing square.
There Fëanor mourned his jewels divine,
the Silmarils he made. Like wine
his wild and potent words them fill;
a great host hearkens deathly still.
But all he said both wild and wise
half truth and half the fruit of lies
that Morgoth sowed in Valinor
in other songs and other lore
recorded is.
There’s such a wonderful sense of place and of mood in those lines; the Return of the Noldor has always been one of the most compelling parts of the Silmarillion for me. In the same way that Elves have a different sense of time than Men, Valar must have a different sense of it than Elves; they’re acting, but within their own sense of time, and for the Noldor, in the wake of the Darkening, the desire to do something rather than wait around for the Valar (who are looking more deeply fallible than they ever have before) to fix things must be extremely powerful. And Fëanor’s presence and words and fury, brought into that environment, is like fire to oil. To be active and purposeful in the face of disaster, rather than passive and directionless - that’s a powerful force. The poem also acknowledges that Fëanor’s not entirely wrong (“half truth and half the fruit of lies”), however deeply distorted his ideas about both the Valar and the Secondborn are. As I’ve said before, I think that Eru intended for the Elves to be in Middle-earth, not Valinor; the entire Leithian is centred around the value and importance of an elf-human relationship that continues to affect the history of Arda down through the Third Age (and, in its symbolic meaning, even further).
There’s also a line about the Oath: Who calls these names in witness may not break his oath, though earth and heaven shake. The texts on the Oath are somewhat contradictory on its breakability, though they are united on its importance and severity (it is decidedly not just words, or something that can be casually laid aside). The Silmarillion says “so sworn, good or evil, an oath may not be broken, and it shall pursue oathkeeper and oathbreaker to the world’s end”. But that contradicts itself - it it can’t be broken, then there can’t be oathbreakers. Maedhros and Maglor’s final conversation at the end of the Silm is more illuminating to me: it’s not a matter of the Oath being physically or psychologically impossible to break (if it was, how did they go the 400 years of the Siege of Angband without actively attacking Morgoth?), but of fearing the fate they have called down upon themselves (the Everlasting Darkness) if they do break it. (Plus a lot of sunk cost fallacy, by that point.) Which is considerably less sympathetic: murdering innocent people in order to avoid the consequences of your own bad decision is, ultimately, the choice that innocents should bear the cost of your own choices, which is ultimately a form of cowardice. (Not to mention the inherently contradictory nature of saying “I’m going to do evil so that I won’t be damned,” which Maglor eventually realizes.)
(More of my thoughts on the Oath here.)
This is also one of the few texts we have that actually states the Oath (or rather, part of it; the invocations are not included) rather that describing it. I think all the ones we have are in Tolkien’s poetry; there’s no prose version.
The Kinslaying is not mentioned in this Canto; that’s saved for the Duel of Felagund and Sauron in the next one. But this canto does include possibly the only poetic rendition we get of Fingon rescuing Maedhros from Thangorodrim:
Fingon daring alone went forth
and sought for Maidros where he hung;
in torment terrible he swung,
his wrist in band of forgéd steel,
from a sheer precipice where reel
the dizzy senses staring down
from Thangorodrim’s stony crown.
The song of Fingon Elves yet sing,
captain of armies, Gnomish king...
They sing how Maidros free he set,
and stayed the feud that slumbered yet
between the children proud of Finn.
After describing the Siege of Angband and the Long Peace, the narrative moves on to the Dagor Bragollach, and specifically Barahir’s rescue of Felagund. (And in this account, as in the Silm, Orodreth is Felagund’s brother, not his nephew.) From there, it returns to the main story and Beren’s arrival in Nargothrond. It could not be more different than his reception in Menegroth:
When the ring [of Barahir] was seen
they bowed before him, though his plight
was poor and beggarly...
Fair were the words of Narog’s king
to Beren, and his wandering
and all his feuds and bitter wars
recounted soon.
Regarding Felagund’s fulfillment of his Oath to Barahir, and the betrayal by Celegorm and Curufin, and the abandonment by the Elves of Nargothrond, I’ve already written a fair bit in my (much earlier) posts on Finrod & Nargothrond and Celegorm & Curufin. I’ll add a few additional points here.
First, I do not think it was irresponsible of Felagund to leave Nargothrond to go with Beren. If his presence as king of Nargothrond was important (and I think it was; basically all of Nargothrond’s decisions after he leaves are bad, and he’s been the peacemaker and diplomat between different elven and human groups throughout the Silmarillion up to this point) that is all the more reason why Nargothrond is indebted to Barahir and his descendents, since Felagund would already be dead if not for Barahir’s actions.
Secondly - and I’m getting this from Philosopher at Large’s Leithian Script, which emphasizes it very heavily - Felagund, as liege-lord to the Bëorings, has certain obligations to them even outside of his oath, including providing military assistance in times of need. Usual chains of communication have been cut since the Bragollach, so Felagund’s only just now finding out that the Bëorings have, aside from Beren, been basically exterminated; and that Barahir and later Beren spent years fighting a very long-odds guerrilla war without ever asking or recieving assistance, while Nargothrond was safe and largely inactive. This is going to strongly enhance Felagund’s (legitimate) sense of indebtedness to Barahir’s kin.
Thirdly, Celegorm is often treated as something of a meathead (because he acts like one; all his decisions are terrible in both moral and practical terms), but this sequence makes it clear that both he and Curufin inherited their father’s rhetorical abilities; his speech is specifically compared to Fëanor’s speech in Tirion (Many wild and potent words he spoke, and as before in Tûn awoke his father’s voice their hearts to fire, so now dark fear and brooding ire he cast on them...) But ironically, the direction of Curufin’s speech is opposite to Fëanor’s - while Fëanor’s was about rallying the Noldor to fight Morgoth, Curufin’s is about discouraging them from fighting Morgoth, by frightening them, and he does it so effectively that it’s unlikely Nargothrond would have showed up at the Nirnaeth Arnoediad even without the additional motivation of being furious at the brothers. And continuing on that theme, the brothers are setting themselves against the first real attempt anyone has ever made to regain the Silmarils from Morgoth. A mission that resulted in Beren and Lúthien having one Silmaril, and the Fëanorians having the other two, would obviously be better in terms of their goals than all three remaining in Morgoth’s posession, but they don’t appear to even consider it. This is part of a long thread throughout the Silmarillion - every action taken directly in service to the Oath aids Morgoth and harms the Eldar.
The people of Nargothrond, by the way, really do not come off well here - they’re rejecting their king for someone who has just threatened violence against them all (Celegorm’s speech is basically threatening them with another Kinslaying here and now).
And as a final point - what Celegorm and Curufin do here is one of the worst crimes imaginable within their society. The sacredness of the relationship between guests and hosts (and they are guests in Nargothrond, having fled there from the Bragollach) is a major theme in a lot of pre-modern societies. People familiar with A Song of Ice and Fire will remember its importance there; for a more historical source, Dante places ‘traitors to guests and hosts’ in the ninth circle of hell in the Divine Comedy and goes beyond that to state that people who betray their guests or hosts go directly to hell even before they die, while their body becomes inhabited by a demon for the rest of their life. From this betrayal, to the usurpation of Nargothrond, to the attempted rape of Lúthien, to the attempted murder of Lúthien, to Celegorm’s servants leaving Eluréd and Elurín - young children - to die of exposure, everything we see from the brothers from this point on is them committing crimes that are literally unthinkable to elves. Which is to say that the Eldar might have found Dante’s explanation pretty credible.
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silverdecepticon93 · 4 years
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Wally x a SuperIntelligent! villain! reader? maybe she lets herself get captured by the OG team but breaks herself out of the cell and they walk into the kitchen and she's just there, eating Wallys chips and complaining about the serious lack of sour candies. and she ends up talking with Wally when the rest of the team is out chasing leads, about why she was forced to become a villain and he convinces her to join the team?
Sorry, it took so long! Also, there is a lot of sexual tension but it is supposed to be very fluffy.
Promise?
 Artemis Fowl, the questionable protagonist of a book series, he was a boy who was much to smart for his own good and used his talents as a child prodigy to pursue a life of crime. While he might’ve existed in the pages of a book, you were real, as was the trouble and havoc you caused. However, like Artemis Fowl, you had a moral code.
      So when you thought that the Light’s latest plot was too extreme, even for your tastes, you knew you had to shut it down. Except you couldn’t do it by yourself, there was no way, so you had turned to the people who often spoiled your fun for help and while you may have put your own feelings aside for the greater good, heroes seemed to like to dwell on the past.
      “How did you get out of your cell?” Robin demanded the moment he saw you on the kitchen counter. You popped another chip in your mouth before looking at him with an eyebrow raised, “C’mon, Chickadee, it was rather simple. I felt rather insulted you thought that that over-glorified cage of yours could keep me contained.”
      You felt a breeze whoosh past you, it didn’t startle you but you suddenly felt the bag of chips in your hand disappear. You looked over your shoulder to see Kid Flash holding the bag upside down only to see a few small crumbs fall to the ground.
     “You ate all my chips?” He growled as he turned back to face you. You shrugged nonchalantly, “Don’t blame me, Skids, you didn’t have any of the sour candies I liked so I had to resort to the next best thing.”
     “Skids, Chickadee?” Artemis repeated as she looked at both Robin and Kid Flash. You brightened up and looked at Kaldur, “Oh! And Gills! We don’t want Kaldur feeling left out, now do we?”
    Superboy crossed his arms over his chest as he glared at you, “Who exactly are you?”
    You leaned your head on your hands before looking expectantly at the three former sidekicks in front of you to introduce you to the Team. Kaldur cleared his throat with a cough, drawing everyone’s attention to him.
     “This is (Y/n) (L/n), she’s one of the smartest people in the world, and she’s incredibly dangerous,” Aqualad explained. Artemis only scoffed and eyed you skeptically, “You don’t look dangerous.”
     You grinned devilishly, “That’s exactly what makes me dangerous. However-” you jumped off from the kitchen counter before taking out a flash drive from your pocket- “I’m not here to discuss how much of a threat I am, I’m here to help you.”
      “Help us? yeah, right.” Kid Flash snorted. You turned back to look at him before putting your hands on his shoulders and leaning close to his ear, “Aww, someone still bitter about a month ago, Skids?”
     Kid Flash’s eyes went wide before he moved away from you, making your grin widening in amusement, while Robin snickered and Kaldur smiled ever-so-slightly. The rest of the Team looked at each other in confusion before turning to look back at Kaldur.
     “What happened a month ago?” M’gann asked. Kid Flash sent Robin a warning glare but the raven-haired boy chose to ignore it as he turned to face the other three members, “We were chasing down (Y/n) but she got away cause Skids, here, got distracted when she faked a love confession to him.”
    You only looked at the red-haired speedster and shot him a wink, “I wouldn’t say I faked it but it was cute seeing you all hot and bothered.”
     Wally blushed before sending you a severe stare, “I wasn’t all hot and bothered, You just caught me off-guard.”
     You hummed playfully before walking past him towards Kaldur, the shiny flash drive in your hand, “All nostalgia aside, I am being serious right now. The Light is planning something big and I need your help.”
      Kaldur took the flash drive from your hand before looking at you with a hesitant glint in his eyes, “Forgive me for having my doubts but why ask us? If the Light’s next plan is so big, wouldn’t be more fitting to ask the Justice League?”
      You bit your lip nervously as you debated whether or not to explain your reasoning to them, after all, if you gave them too much information then the Light could easily trace it back to you. You shivered at the thought of what might happen if they found out you were snitching on them behind their backs, even your genius was no match against the Light.
     “The less you know, the better it is for both of us,” You answered, “plus, I trust you three more.”
     Kaldur was thinking about your words and searching your face for any hint of an ulterior motive when he couldn’t find one, he sighed and went to the main computer in the Cave. He was about to plug in the USB chip before Wally grabbed his hand to stop him, making the Atlantian look up at him in surprise.
     “What are you doing? You remember who this is, right? (Y/n) (L/n), a supervillain who can’t be trusted. She probably put a virus in there or is gonna use it to steal information for the Light!” Wally listed off. You indignantly scoffed before walking up to him, “I may be a supervillain but even I know when to see the line drawn in the sand, as for the Light, they already know a lot more about you all than you think.”
      Wally looked shocked, not because of your words, but more because of the way you lost your temper. You were usually so calm and composed no matter that situation, something that always got on the speedster’s nerves, however, to see you so emotional about something was alarming to him. His green eyes were still locked onto your (e/c) ones as he let go of Kaldur’s wrist, allowing the leader to insert the flash drive holding the Light’s oh-so big plan.
     The Team had gathered around the screen, watching and inspecting every blueprint and idea, and it wasn’t long until their skeptical faces became expressions of horror. Even you had one on your face despite having already seen it at the meeting. 
     “(Y/n)’s right...this...is alarming.” Kaldur finally said. Robin nodded in agreement, “Yeah, I’m feeling...overwhelmed.”
     When Robin said that, using the word ‘overwhelmed’ instead of that irksome ‘whelm’, the gravity of the situation hit hard.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
     You nervously fidgeted with your mask, staring into the holes where your eyes were usually covered, with a guilty look on your face. For once in your life, you were actually worried about the group of heroes. Because if they failed, it was game over to half of the Earth’s population, and possibly even the galaxy.
      A loud ‘thud’ made you jump and pulled you out of your thoughts. You looked up to see Kid Flash, leaning on the table you were sitting at with a bag of Toxic waste in front of you. You furrowed your eyebrows in confusion before looking up at him.
      “You like sour candy, right? I decided to pick some up for you on my way back.” Wally explained a bit nervously. You smiled timidly at him, “I’m assuming you got stuck with babysitting duty, right? To make sure I don’t do anything bad while everyone is away?”
     He shrugged and sat next to you, nodding his head to the bag of sour candy to show that it really was for you. Hesitantly, you grabbed the bag and opened it up, ripping the wrapper off and placing the sour candy in your moth. The sweet yet overwhelming sour taste sending a wave of relief throughout your body.
     “Thanks, Skids.” You mumbled. He smiled softly, “Don’t mention it, (Y/n).”
     Silence fell between the two of you before he looked at you, once more you’re gazing down at your mask. The one you wore during your crimes, the one you wore to cover your weakness, and while Kid Flash found you to be a pain, he also found you to be something of a frenemy to him.
     Seeing your face without the mask was also changing his opinion on you, watching as your eyes leaked with emotion, and the way you stared at your mask with disdain.
    “Why’d you become a villain?” He asked, breaking the silence. You looked up at him in slight surprise but also out of slight amusement, “We’ve known each other for five years and you’re asking me that now?”
     “Yeah, I guess I am.” He answered and watched as you popped another candy into your mouth.
    You sucked on it nervously, trying to ignore the speedster’s emerald gaze, however, you finally caved in and held up your mask.
    “I’m afraid I don’t have a tragic backstory to excuse my actions,” You laughed sadly, “It’s...actually the one dumb decision I made in my life...I was young but I was smart, smarter than Lex Luthor or T. O. Morrow, and I let that get to my head. Villainy was exciting, to hatch a plan and defeat a hero, and it was challenging. Except...it’s just…”
     “It’s all fun and games until people get hurt.” Wally finished. You looked at him and nodded, “and I hurt a lot of people, Skids.”
     Wally watched as tears began to well up in the corner of your eyes, making him cup your face and force you to stare into his green eyes. You were taken off-gaurd but then you gripped his wrists with your hands before leaning your forehead on his, tears now falling down your cheeks as you started to sob.
    “It’s not a game, anymore, Wally. It’s not fun,” You whimpered, “but I’ve played for too long and you can’t just quit in the middle of a game. That’s how you lose.”
    Wally smiled in amusement before using his thumb to wipe away one tear from your eye, “Sometimes, the best way to win a game, is to know when to quit.”
    You stared up at him, your eyes red and puffy and your bottom lip quivered, “What if I don’t know how to stop, Wally? What if I can’t?”
    He grinned at you comfortingly as he leaned his face closer to you, “Then I’ll help you.”
    “Promise?” Your voice pleaded silently as you began to lean in as well.
    The two of you pressed your lips together, Wally was able to taste the sour candy you previously had in your mouth, while you wrapped your arms around his neck like he was a lifeline. When you two pulled back, there were soft smiles on both your faces.
     “Promise.”
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lastsonlost · 4 years
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These women have dedicated their lives to addressing a crisis of masculinity
Some have academic backgrounds or at first campaigned for women's rights
They believe society has developed a creeping antipathy towards all things male
So who are they — and what are the issues they are fighting on men's behalf?
The gender pay gap. The lack of women in top jobs. The #MeToo movement and the exploitation and abuse it exposed. There is a damning list of evidence that the fight for equal opportunities and rights for women is far from over.
This makes it all the more surprising that a small but increasingly vocal band of women is fighting for justice — not for women, but for men.
These women have dedicated their lives to addressing what they see as a crisis of masculinity and the unfair treatment of men by society.
They come from academic backgrounds or began campaigning for women's rights before focusing on problems of the other sex.
Of course, it is not the case that women's advancement can come only at the expense of men. And no one could deny women still face huge obstacles on the road to equality.
But the campaigners believe that in its attempts to rectify historical wrongs towards women, society has developed a creeping antipathy towards all things male, and this is knocking men's confidence at a time of intense cultural shift.
They fear that many men and boys are neglected, ignored and excluded. This, they say, is why men's mental health problems are on the rise. Suicide is now the biggest killer of UK men under 45.
Some of their views are highly controversial, and some activists have been accused of ignoring the harm done to women by men, or excusing it.
So who are these women, why on earth are they doing this — and what are the issues they are fighting on men's behalf?
COURTS PUNISH MEN – AND KIDS LOSE OUT
Alison Bushell, 57, from Suffolk, runs a social work consultancy.
Britain's family courts are engaged in practices that separate fathers from their children, knowingly or not, Alison believes. She says: 'The pressure groups springing up, some of which are advising the Ministry of Justice on domestic violence cases, have an anti-male agenda.'
In 20 years as a statutory social worker she saw a lack of effort to keep families together and an 'airbrushing out' of many dads.
'I see fathers marginalised and excluded from their kids' lives,' she says, 'while mothers are supported by out-of-date gendered views of parenting within the courts, and health and social services.'
And so, she believes, custody of children is often automatically given to women even when that isn't in a child's best interests.
'False allegations are more prevalent than people realise and supervision orders disproportionately happen to fathers.'
Every day, Alison gets calls from men who haven't seen their kids for up to five years. 'Having lost contact with their children, such men sometimes turn to alcohol or drugs out of sheer desperation.
'More become depressed. I had a client who took his own life. I believe the allegations against him were a major contributing factor.'
Alison has faced several complaints of bias while representing — largely male — clients in court, but none has been upheld.
Disillusioned and concerned to highlight these inequities, she left statutory social work ten years ago to set up consultancy, Child and Family Solutions. The agency works with families going through bitter separations, and carries out assessments for the Family Court and local authorities.
She has also worked with male domestic abuse victims. 'It has given me huge respect for those daring to speak out, because there is so little help available. It is a national scandal that so few refuge places are available for men.'
In England there were more than 3,600 beds in safe houses for women in 2017, but just 20 for men. The charity ManKind Initiative, which Alison supports, has told her that only 36 of 163 beds now available in refuges or safe houses are earmarked for men.
'Since Office for National Statistics figures state that 40 per cent or more victims of domestic abuse are men, this is alarming.
'When will people realise that holding on to a gendered narrative in domestic abuse is harmful?'
As for gender politics, Alison admits she has performed a volte-face. 'In the 80s I spent time at Greenham Common and lived in a women-only house. I even had a badge declaring 'a woman without a man is like a fish without a bicycle'. How times change.
'I can now be found reading [neoconservative author] Douglas Murray or listening to a talk by [Right-wing psychologist] Jordan Peterson.'
WHY I'M FIGHTING FEMINISM
Belinda Brown, 54, is a social anthropologist and co-founder of Men For Tomorrow. A widow with two children, she lives in London.
When she met her second husband, social scientist Geoff Dench — known as the architect of the socially conservative Blue Labour movement — Belinda's activism was ignited.
Together they set up Men for Tomorrow to research male problems — and fight against what they saw as a tendency to 'neglect or ignore issues affecting men'.
Shortly after their 2009 marriage, however, Geoff was diagnosed with a rare brain disease, progressive supranuclear palsy. He died on June 24 last year, aged 77. Belinda nursed him until the end.
She plans to continue his work by exposing what she sees as a deliberate attempt by feminist activists to undermine the traditional family unit.
She writes and speaks on a range of topics concerning men for platforms such as The Conservative Woman website, and carries out research aimed at reinforcing 'traditional' values.
As an anthropologist, she learned about feminism during her studies, but disagreed with much of what she heard.
'I was always aware of my own power and the power of other women,' she says. 'While I knew there were injustices which needed rectifying, today I see more injustices afflicting men.
'Most men work extremely hard to provide for their families, often at considerable cost to themselves. For women to ignore these sacrifices and instead blame men for all the problems in the world, it's divisive and damaging to gender cohesion.'
Belinda has worked for homeless charity Shelter, where like Alison Bushell she was shocked by the high proportion of men she saw.
'Almost all the rough sleepers were men and family breakdown was the reason so many were without homes,' she says.
'During divorce settlements it was always the wives who gained ownership of the house, leaving husbands stranded.'
According to charity Homeless Link, today 84 per cent of the homeless are men, and their average age at death is just 44, half the average male lifespan. She also draws a correlation between the current epidemic of gang-related knife crime and the rise in fatherlessness. Most of the offenders, she says, come from broken homes, according to her research.
As for the future of gender relations, she has this to say: 'I hope one day soon feminism will be seen as an interesting period of history, but one which caused tremendous damage to society.'
BOYS NEED MORE EMOTIONAL SUPPORT
Sonia Shaljean, 49, founded award-winning community interest company, Lads Need Dads. Married with three teenage sons, she lives in Essex.
Sonia has observed men at their lowest ebb during her 20-plus years as a substance misuse counsellor and anger management specialist within the fields of alcohol, drugs, criminal justice and homelessness.
'I was struck by how many of those men had grown up either without a father or with an abusive or unsupportive dad,' she says. So she founded not-for-profit Lads Needs Dads in 2015, with an initial grant of just £4,000.
The organisation has a team of trained male mentors, who encourage emotional intelligence in boys aged 11-15 with absent fathers. It also provides opportunities for youngsters to take part in outdoor activities, learn practical life skills and volunteer in the community.
She believes it helps to have a woman at the helm. 'If it were a man leading an all-male organisation, it could possibly be disregarded by some women.
'Our aim at Lads Need Dads is to provide support, guidance and encouragement — and a much-needed male voice to enable boys to open up.
'It's so rewarding to watch boys' self-esteem, emotional stability and motivation grow. They perform much better at school, too, as well as having improved relationships at home.'
According to the Centre for Social Justice, 1.1 million young people have little or no contact with their fathers, while 2.7 million live in lone parent families.
In his book The Boy Crisis, Dr Warren Farrell explains how fatherless boys, and to a lesser extent girls, tend to have less empathy and are more likely to break the law. According to a Unicef report on the wellbeing of children in economically advanced nations, including the UK, 85 per cent of youths in prison have an absent father.
Sonia was keenly interested in the link between fatherlessness and offending, in part because she started her career in a civilian role at the Metropolitan Police, where she managed a Community Safety Unit and helped refer victims and perpetrators to the right services.
Later she worked for the charity Refuge, setting up two women's refuges in South East London alongside volunteering on a national helpline for a men's charity that provided therapeutic programmes for men wanting to change their behaviour.
Sonia is keen to point out that not all boys growing up without a father end up as a statistic, saying: 'Other protective factors come into play, such as encouraging boys to join clubs and take part in sports, where they can find positive male role models.
'We aren't here to replace fathers. In fact our programmes have reunited many boys with their dads after years of absence.'
FATHERS PAY THE PRICE IN DIVORCE
Stacey Camille Alexander-Harriss, 41, a family support worker and children's novelist, moved to the UK from America ten years ago after meeting her English husband online. He's a City finance director and they live in Ilford with their two dogs.
A former Art and French teacher, Stacey now works supervising contact between fathers and their children after family breakdown, at Alison Bushell's agency.
'We tend to work more with dads than mums, as they seem to be the ones who have difficulty retaining a relationship with children after divorce and frequently become depressed in the custody battle.'
She believes this is the result of systemic inequalities and a bias towards mothers. 'Women hold all the power, especially when it comes to custody.
'It's unfair that dads have to pay for all the legal costs, paying people like Alison to advocate.
'Often men with good jobs from affluent backgrounds end up taking out loans. Even if you win you spend so much on this insane game.
'When mothers notice there is a maternal bias they realise they can say whatever they like about their ex. I've heard accusations of terrorism just to get custody. It's so ugly. And when mothers refuse to seek help for their emotional problems they tend to place the blame on men.'
Her books deal with troubled families — Myrtle Takes Tea, published under the pseudonym Alexander Stacey, is about a lonely nine year old with mean teachers and parents with money problems. All that matters to her is her prized toy rabbit Earl Grey.
Stacey thinks setting an example is a way to heal these injuries and help families.
'All the tools I use in my work are drawn from examples set by my own parents who were loving, strong and wise. My father was an orthopaedic surgeon and he and my mother were married for 40 patient years until they both passed away. I try to teach fathers about the importance of discipline, responsibility, self-reliance and confidence.'
I HAD DEATH THREATS - AND A BOMB SCARE
Erin Pizzey, 80, founded women's charity Refuge. She is now a patron of the charity Families Need Fathers. She lives in South London and is divorced with two children.
'I'm all for equality of the sexes,' Erin Pizzey says.
'But equality isn't the endgame for those feminists who believe women would be far better off without men.'
This may sound odd coming from the founder of the first women's refuge.
It's nearly 50 years since, aged 32 and with two young children, she set up The Chiswick Women's Refuge as a place 'where women could meet and use our talents'.
'Both my parents were violent and my mother beat me,' she says. 'So when the first battered woman came through the door and said 'no one will help me', I knew what she meant.'
The London house became women's charity Refuge — and led to the creation of hundreds more women's refuges. And yet Erin became a pariah, as she insisted many female victims were also violent.
'Of the first 100 women who came into my refuge, 62 were as violent or more violent than the men they had left,' she says.
'Therefore, domestic violence can't be a gender issue, it can't be just men, because we girls are just as badly affected.'
She became a hate figure for saying so. 'They branded me a 'victim blamer'. 'After a bomb scare, the police suggested my post be sent to them for inspection.'
In the Seventies, she tried to set up a refuge for men, with little success. 'The rich men who were willing to fund my projects for women refused to give any money to male victims.' Now she works with Families Need Fathers and is a patron of The ManKind Initiative, a charity which supports male domestic violence victims.
The subject may be becoming less taboo. Police in England and Wales recorded nearly 150,000 instances of domestic violence to men in 2017, more than double those in 2012 — which in part reflects a greater willingness to report problems.
The 2018 Crime Survey for England and Wales recorded that 7.9 per cent of women (1.3 million) and 4.2 per cent of men (695,000) have suffered domestic abuse.
It is women who are far more likely to be victims of extreme violence. Government figures show, for example, that 73 per cent of victims of domestic homicides from 2014 to 2017 were women, while most killers were male.
This leaves male victims in a difficult situation, which Erin is working to address. She says: 'I am fighting for my son, my grandsons and my great grandsons, so that they might have a future where men are no longer demonised.'
The War On Masculinity by James Innes-Smith will be published by Little Brown in spring 2020.
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mellomedia · 3 years
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Youth Culture
For Media & Society’s first blog post, our class watched Euphoria, Mid90s, Mean Girls, Kids, and The Breakfast Club. If you haven’t figured out the theme yet, it’s youth culture. Most of these films were set in the 80s and 90s before this current generation. This is the first generation where our lives are saturated by mobile technology and social media (Divecha, 2017). But no matter what generation, youth culture has many common behaviors, or misbehaviors.
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Often when I watch a film or read a comic book, I wonder if I relate to the story or anyone in it. I looked for anything in common I might have with one of the characters in the five films we watched. I can identify with Ray from Mid90s the most. I’m not a die-hard skateboarder like Ray. In fact I can’t skateboard at all, but I dedicate all my time and energy into art and animation. While we have different interests, I can relate to Ray’s passion for something he enjoys and the energy he puts into it. Ray is the top skateboarder in his group and practiced every day. All my spare time is spent drawing and taking online animation courses. My goal is to always do better than what I did yesterday. Words to describe Ray would be the same way I describe myself: down to earth, not concerned with fitting in, my own person, caring, always willing to help, and a very loyal friend. When Stevie joins the skateboard crew in the film Mid90s, he finally digs up some money to buy Ruben’s old, used skateboard. Stevie gets injured while attempting an insane jump over a hole in a roof and breaks his skateboard. Ray sees how much Stevie is trying to fit in, no matter how many falls he takes, he gets back up. Ray has a big heart and builds Stevie a new skateboard. As I mentioned, I’m not a skateboarder, but I enjoy trying to make people smile with my art. I enjoy drawing a cartoon of a friend to help them to get out of a funk or just listen to whatever it is they are going through. 
These films all share a few common themes. One theme is belonging. I admit I looked up the term “fitting in” and it was compared to belonging. Fitting in is defined as to be like other people in a group – what they wear, how they act, how they look. (Pace, 2018) Belonging is a basic human need – it is about acceptance – being where you want to be and being where you are wanted (Pace, 2018). A few examples are Stevie (Mid90s) wants to be accepted into the skateboard crew; Brian (The Breakfast Club) brings a flare gun to school as a suicide attempt because he didn't feel he was good enough; and Cady (Mean Girls) is the new girl trying to get accepted by The Plastics.
My freshman year in high school definitely falls into the theme of belonging. I struggled with speech and have a learning disorder. And at the time I had zero confidence in socializing. I’d walk over to a group of kids in the cafeteria just to try to get involved in the conversation, but I couldn’t form sentences quick enough to jump in. I would be the weird kid just standing there. One day my speech therapist asked me what I wanted to improve and I told her I wanted to gain confidence in socializing. She told me the best way to do this would be to just try to talk to more people. Well in high school that worked with some kids, but not all. I’ll never forget one day in the cafeteria I was trying to find a place to sit and eat lunch. I saw an empty chair at a table where a ‘friend’ was sitting. The group was taking turns roasting one another. At one point another kid challenged me. I was doing fine until he said, “You know people are only nice to you because they don’t want to hurt your feelings.” That hurt like hell. He was referring to my speech impairment. I got up from the table and walked away. And that ‘friend’ at the table didn’t defend me at all. One girl came running over to make sure I was alright. I was pissed and hurt. I was not alright. Just so you don’t think I went off the deep end and had a miserable high school experience, I actually gained a great friend in high school that day. Alex, who was a senior, saw me leave track practice early. My head just wasn’t into track, so I went to sit in the empty cafeteria hoping to clear my head. He asked how things were going and I told him what happened that day. He told me, “It’s not easy finding out who your real friends are. But don’t change for anyone and don’t try to be like anyone else. Just be you.” I’ll never forget how he took the time to talk to me. After his advice, I could care less about belonging.
Another common theme between all five films is rebellion. When they aren’t skateboarding, most of the characters in Mid90s spend their time partying, drinking, and doing drugs. In The Breakfast Club, each character is in detention because they rebelled in some way. Why else would they be in detention? Every character in Kids was a rebel, actually more like a criminal. I bet the writer of the film was too.
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A third theme is “bro” culture. “Bro” culture is defined as people who are bullies but at the end of the day they have your back, like a brother (Sloothunter42, 2018). Two great examples of “bros” are John (The Breakfast Club) and Ian (Mid90s). Throughout The Breakfast Club, John constantly insults the other kids in detention. He even insults the principal. The group escapes detention to wander the hallways. When the principal sees them, John saves the group by telling them to go back to the library while he distracts the principal. This link shows you the scene I’m explaining: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=5Iq7MRlHg5I (Hughes, 1985). Not something you would have expected from a bully, but you would from a “bro.” In Mid90s, Stevie’s brother, Ian, beats the crap out of him every chance he gets. But when Stevie is laying in a hospital bed after a car accident, his brother is there by his side. He even shares his precious orange juice.
Now onto one of my favorite things in life, music! I put together a playlist that relates to my adolescent experience. In no particular order, here are 10 songs and what each means to me. But let me point out that some song lyrics mean something to me, while with other songs it was the energy it gives off. I’m all about positive energy. First song is “Mr. Blue Sky” by Electric Light Orchestra. I first heard this song during the movie Guardians of the Galaxy. This song kept me motivated and positive during high school. If I was having a bad day, this was my ‘go to’ song. I also listened to it every day on my way to school. Next is “Crazy” by Gnarls Barkley, a.k.a. CeeLo Green. This song reminds me of my mind, imagination, and the stuff I think about. I always have a trillion things going on in my head. I guess that explains my poor focus skills and super procrastination. “Inner Ninja” by Classified is another upbeat song. A few lines that always stuck in my head are, “I find my inner strength and I re-up; Here we go, I know I've never been the smartest or wisest; But I realize what it takes; Never dwell in the dark cause the sun always rises.” My junior year of high school I was diagnosed with Type 1 Diabetes. It has and still is life-changing and as much as I don’t let it change who I am, I’m human. But as the song says, don’t dwell on the negative, look for the positive. I always remind myself of the positive. “Through the Fire and Flames” by DragonForce always fueled my brain when I was tired of doing homework or studying. To me the lyrics mean to keep moving forward no matter how difficult. Just look at what your goal is and don’t give up. Plus this song has one hell of a guitar solo that is very motivating. Michael Jackson is one of my favorite artists and “Man in the Mirror” reminds me how important it is to try to do good in the world and make a positive change. Regardless of culture, color, religion, and disability, we are all capable of making good changes in the world. I tried this on a much smaller scale in high school by volunteering at the food pantry and community events. “Clint Eastwood” by Gorillaz is one of many songs by this group that I like. It’s not so much the words I relate to, but I love the animation in their music videos. I remember the first time I saw one of their videos I thought how cool and mysterious it was that we only see the singers as cartoons. We are never shown who they really are. I like the fact that it’s different. Different is good in my world. “Intergalactic” by Beastie Boys reminds me of breakdancing and dancing in general. I love to dance and looked forward to every prom and homecoming dance at high school. “Without Me” by Eminem reminds me that no matter how much people criticize you, you can be very successful at what you enjoy doing. The last song on my list is “Take Me Out” by Franz Ferdinand. To be honest, I just like the beat of the song and it’s one of those songs I listened to over and over in high school.
So that wraps up my Youth Culture blog. I hope it gave you a better understanding of how I relate to the assigned films. But let me make one thing clear, I do not relate to anything in the film Kids. Not one thing.
Below is my self portrait of what goes through my mind. 
Artwork by: Marcello Laudato
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serararku · 3 years
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Crescendo: Castrum Aeternium
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Tullus sas Virilus was accompanied by an entire century to escort him safely through the wilds of Mor Dhona; all of which were carefully examined and hand picked himself to put his paranoia to rest. Failure was not an option he would entertain, and after witnessing firsthand how the Emperor found more to be desired from the last man in charge of Castrum Aeternium, he wasn't about to leave this mission to an incompetent underling; there was simply too much ceruleum on the line to let this end up in flames.
The night was fading. Beneath the cusp of the dwindling moonlight, the small stretch of trees remaining in Mor Dhona proved the ideal spot for her ambush. They all resided in the dark, separated, isolated, and at their positions, waiting for their signal to proceed with S’era’s plan. Conobharo Cobharo sat on the outskirts of the virgin forest, humming glibly in the getaway carriage with a tangled mess of wires and cables in his lap. He had just finished setting up his part of the plan, and had devoted the nerve-wracking waiting to the formation of a new ditty for his incoming Imperial guests. "Come out ye black an' reds, come out an' face me head-ta-head…" 
Sir Pherond Baldarrak stood beside his gilded chocobo to await the impending battle from the west, gazing up at the pale moonlight while he readied himself for battle. R’zevi, on the other hand, traveled remarkably light, and remained hidden along the cliffs, sitting cross-legged with his eyes closed and mind focused on the task set before him. Lastly S’era remained at the peak of the nearby plateau, keeping an eye out for the infamous black armor and glowing magitek colossi while she waited for K’thalen to arrive.
She paced back and forth, staring intensely at the treetops below for any sign of the Garlean presence. All she could think about was spilling their blood and making them suffer- every time she closed her eyes she saw S’tage’s cold sunken face. A fire in her gut kept her warm in this freezing morning, and even now, when all was quiet and peaceful, her heart pounded against her chest and she craved violence.
A twig snapping behind her was enough for S’era to spin around on her heel and draw her sword. “Who’s there?!” She blurted out, straining to recognize the silhouette approaching her; but the sudden flash of his striking yellow eyes put her mind at ease.
“Don’t cut my head off, lass. It’s yours truly.” K’thalen stepped through the underbrush and out into the pale moonlight with his magitek rifle slung over his shoulder. “We uhh… we need to talk.”
“You’re late.” Was all she responded with, at first. She turned to point at the treeline with the edge of her blade, before continuing with, “Are you going to get into position, or is this another attempt to second-guess myself? Because if it’s the latter, don’t waste your breath. We’re here now, we’re ready, and we’re minutes away from this battle commencing. Plus, you swore you would repay your debt.” She glanced over her shoulder at him. “After tonight, consider us even.”
K’thalen grinded his teeth together while he stared at this stubborn broad; it felt wrong to say anything now, not while her heart bled for a ghost, not while her mind was made up. But he had to anyway. “I found out who killed S’tage and mailed him to our apartment.” Her eyes widened, but she didn’t say a word. After a long pause and awkward silence, he opened his mouth and forced it out. “It was your master, lass. Lord Isenhart.”
Slowly the tip of her sword was lowered to the ground. A rock the size of a goblin’s head sat in her stomach as she stared at K’thalen, her eyes glittering a steely blue. She opened her drying mouth to speak, but the words caught in her throat. “Lass…” he whispered, taking a step forward. “I think he did it to stop you from gettin’ yourself killed.”
“My life…” She answered weakly. “Is not his to d-decide…” S’era looked down at her trembling hands during her long pause, feeling tears beginning to swell in her eyes. Hadriel was the only one she knew who could survive a castrum by himself- the only one capable of slaughtering scores of Garleans without breaking a sweat. The burns from when he ordered her to stick her hand into the fireplace to begin her training was proof enough he was capable of great cruelty- but this went beyond what little understanding she had for that man. S’tage’s corpse, the mocking letter, all of it- she couldn’t believe it. She refused. “You’re certain…? Absolutely?”
“He said so himself.” K’thalen inhaled sharply before straightening up. “Era… this battle. This ambush… it’s a waste of time, aye? Let’s go back to the apartment… and plan our next move.”
The sadness scrawled across her face slowly shifted to anger. Her fingers curled into a fist on one hand, while sliding her uchigatana back into its sheath with the other. “You’re lying.” 
“Era…!”
“He could have stopped me at any time. He could have refused to train me. He... he could have taken my hand if he so pleased.” S’era paused long enough to blink the blinding tears away. “He would never write such a disgusting letter. No… I don’t believe you. He just doesn’t want me to get hurt.”
“We have proof.” He sighed, taking another step closer.
S’era narrowed her gaze at him. “We?”
“She’s down the hill.” K’thalen answered, his ears flattening against his head. “Let’s go see what she has to say, lass.”
“We don’t have time for this.” She turned her back to K’thalen to gaze down at the treeline again. “The platoon could be here any minute and you’re wasting your breath trying to throw me off. If you’re so terrified of dying, then go- run back to New Gridania where it’s safe. I’m here for answers, not excuses… and I don’t want some craven watching my back when the battle starts.”
“As I suspected. Like talkin’ to a wall.” K’thalen pinched the bridge of his nose and took in a deep breath. “I’m here to help you survive this, Era. But this battle… it’s a whole century versus five people. And if Tullus sas Virilus is really among them… he’ll be packin’ some heavy weaponry we don’t have the means to handle.”
“I don’t have a choice!” S’era shouted at the top of her lungs, startling K’thalen. “S’tage was murdered! His killer roams free! I will avenge his death one way or another- I swear it!”
“Come with me, then. Hear what Vyna has to say.” K’thalen sounded defeated, but the mention of her name was enough to put shock in S’era’s voice.
“Vyna… is here?”
The path they meant to cross that was scheduled to be void of patrols was instead guarded by a single Miqo’te, no taller than S’era herself. A familiar raven-colored long coat waved in the air about a black suit. She rested her hands on a rapier whose point was buried in the ground. A white mask adorned the woman’s visage, covering it completely, black streams of tears painted on it from below its empty eyes to where its lips should’ve been. White hair flowed about her as the wind blew ever gently. Two katanas appeared to hang at her back. She was a vigilant statue waiting for something, or someone.
None of this made any sense to K’vyna. To blame Hadriel for this transgression that S’era held so close to her heart? It made sense in a way if his aim was to give her pause, or stop her, but why would he pit her against his other pupil. He was always calculated and calm. There was always a motive to his actions. But if she faced S’era with the wrath she held in her bosom and proclaimed that their own master orchestrated her descent into madness, wouldn’t that put them both at risk? S’era would be out for blood and she would have no choice but to retaliate in kind. He wouldn’t pit them both against each other in a life or death battle… would he? Unless… he trusted her enough to win with all certainty. Even then, she wasn’t aware of how much S’era had improved under his tutelage. This all seemed like a rushed, hurried mistake. K’vyna’s breath trembled as she awaited the person she almost regarded a little sister. Someone she brought to his attention. This was her fault.
“Vyna…?” A familiar voice came from the bushes, following footfalls, crumbled leaves, and snapping branches. S’era came out from the darkness first, her gaze bewildered the moment they settled on her longest-running friend; it seemed like ages ago when she was scrubbing tavern floors, speaking with this once-stranger. “What are you doing here…?”
“Era…” she spoke softly at first, “You need to go back.” a confident, commanding tone came from the Miqo’te with trembling breaths just a moment ago.
“I came here to kill Garleans and get to the bottom of this…” She retorted, as K’thalen stumbled out of the bushes behind her. “Help me bring S’tage justice. Help me avenge him.”
Sand flew from the earth as K’vyna drew her rapier from the ground. Her heart weighed heavily, reluctant to sell out her master even at his own request. She knew this was wrong. Teeth audibly grounded for a moment, “There’s no point in going. Era… please. Come with me, abandon this quest you’re on.” S’era glanced over her shoulder at K’thalen, but he remained silent. She then looked down at her burned hand, blinking away another round of tears, before her gaze slowly crept back up to K’vyna.
“Is it true?” She weakly mumbled, her words catching in her throat. “Did Hadriel kill my S’tage?”
K’vyna’s heart leapt into her throat as she found herself unable to speak. She knew what she had to say but couldn’t muster the courage to lie to herself, her sister, and her master. She knew that it wasn’t true, it couldn’t be true… could it? “Era.” she changed the script ever so slightly, “I’m here to stop you. If you… if you want revenge you shouldn’t continue on this path you’re on. Era. Please… stop.”
“I can’t.” S’era forced out the words. “They deserve to die for what they did to him and everyone else they enslaved. This is justice.” Slowly she turned to peer over at the valley below. “If you plan on stopping me… then do it. But I’ll defend myself…”
K’thalen made just enough noise with his boots for S’era’s ears to turn to his direction. “Era, this isn’t-” 
“Stay out of this, Thal. Go back to your position and wait for the signal.” S’era didn’t have the time nor the desire to try and convince two people at the same time. K'thalen lowered his ears before returning to the shadows. S'era would never admit it, but she was tired. Tired of being angry. Angry at being so tired. She just wanted this nightmare to end, to wake up and find herself still preparing to save her promised Nunh from the castrum. With everything that’s transpired over the past week, she swore this was all just an elaborate prank. A joke in incredibly poor taste. But it wasn’t.
K’vyna huffed inaudibly, “I want to save your life…” She steeled her resolve. “I will stop you.” she pointed her blade at Era. “Prepare yourself.” she offered as an unnecessary warning, giving her fellow pupil the upper hand.
S’era’s gaze flashed wide when she stumbled back and placed her hand on her hilt, drawing her uchigatana just in time to stop K’vyna from crippling her at the knee. The shock of her oldest friend attacking her wore off in between her violent heartbeats, and she had enough time to compose herself for this scuffle. Darting forward, she lunged at the white-haired Miqo’te, blade drawn and ready to spill blood. 
“An opening!” K’vyna thought to herself. Her blade was on its way to punish S’era for such a rash move but she found herself hesitating- she withdrew, backstepping and going on the defensive. S’era, on the other hand, kept on her reckless offensive, slashing low to the ground in an effort to get her off balance; if she could get Vyna to fall, she could puncture her leg, leaving her down for the count so she could focus on her mission.
A single step came after each swing, a jump for another, and a sidestep for the last. K’vyna skillfully dodged each sloppy strike yet held no killing intent yet she still held no intention to lose. She would believe in her master and that his faith in her was well-founded. “Verfire.” she whispered, aiming to incinerate Era’s blade. The bright orange flash of fire burst before S’era, but she was ready. Frost formed on the edge of her blade when she turned it sideways and slashed upward, vanishing when the flames turned the ice into a cloud of steam; K’vyna jumped up into the air to avoid getting caught in the creeping haze, far and away from potential harm. “When did you learn how to do that?!” She shouted from atop a tree branch. “Hadriel hasn’t taught you anything of the sort!”
“Hadriel isn’t my only mentor!” S’era shouted back, her glowing pale blue eyes revealing herself in the cloud long before it disappeared. She held her uchigatana aloft and pointed it at K’vyna, but didn’t move to rush forward. “Stay out of my way, you hear?! Or I’ll stop aiming for your legs!”
“If I can just disarm her…” K’vyna thought, weighing her options; the longer this scrap lasted, the higher the chances of someone getting hurt became. She was here to distract S’era long enough for Hadriel to show up- yet he was still nowhere to be found. “It doesn’t have to be like this you know!” She decidedly huffed, sliding her rapier back into its sheath. “Think of what you’re doing! If even one Garlean manages to escape your ambush, all of the Revenant’s Toll will be in danger! There are children there!”
The woman slowly lowered her uchigatana until the tip of the blade tapped along the ground. She blinked away a few more tears, and reluctantly, her grimace softened into a disapproving frown. “I’m just…” Her voice was almost too low for K’vyna to hear her properly. “I’m just so tired… tired of training. Tired of waiting. I dreamt of the day I would be in his arms so often… there was nothing else… nothing else I wanted more.” Her head lowered until her straw hat concealed her eyes. “I just… I need to know who did this. I need to know who killed S’tage Tia.”
“He might have once been a proud Nunh in your tribe but he has no one else to blame but himself. He got captured. He got killed. Now consider whose lives you are risking for someone who is nothing but at fault in all this…”
S’era didn’t move an ilm, nor did she say a word. She stood there as if frozen in time, staring off at nothing. She hated the Garleans and everything they represented now more than ever. She wanted them to suffer for what they’ve done to S’tage, and everyone else they’ve tortured, enslaved, or slain- but K’vyna was right. Innocent people resided in the Revenant’s Toll: unarmed civilians, families, and children. Despite being so close to three separate castrums they would be overwhelmed if any of them retaliated for what she planned to do. But letting them get away with this injustice? Letting Castrum Aeternium get off scot-free? It didn’t sit right with her- and she would carry the burden of mercy and restraint for the rest of her days.
“Alright.” Her voice trembled on each syllable. Slowly she raised her head to meet K’vyna’s gaze. “But you’re going to help me find who did this. Who really did this.”
“S’era…” she rasped out. She was smarter than she gave her credit for, but at the same time, perplexingly foolish. She was prudent enough to gauge the situation properly, but dumb enough to want to go on a suicide mission on a wish and a prayer. Her feelings drove her, which made her dangerous. “I’ll help you…” K’vyna admitted, not wanting to continue implicating her master wrongfully even if that was the order given to her. “We’ll do this together… okay? I promise… just… come back with me.” she laid down the rapier. 
Tullus had just reached the edge of the woods. He sent his scouts in first before the full caravan ventured in shortly after, keeping his heavy magitek colossi right where he wanted them; close at hand and covering his flanks. There was something off about how the forest around him seemed to be as silent as a crypt. He didn’t like it, truth be told, but he felt confident anyone foolish enough to attack him when he was this vulnerable would pay with their lives long before they got close. “What is taking you so long?” He barked into his wrist-mounted radio, while keeping his eyes fixed on the surrounding darkness. “Do I have to do everything myself?!”
“The path is clear, sir.” The voice cracking over his receiver put his mind at ease. “No sign of the savages.”
“Good. Good.” He raised his hand and motioned the platoon forward. “To Castrum Centri! On the double!”
“Oh no…” The sound of splintering wood carried far enough for S’era to hear. She rushed to the edge of the steep incline to peer down into her ambush spot; she couldn’t see the Garleans from here, but she could see the trees in the distance shifting and toppling, as well as the foreboding cerulean lights glittering on the armor of a pair of magitek colossi. She reached up and activated her linkpearl. “Cobo?! Are you there? Can you read me?!”
The plucky plainsfolk's voice rasped desperately through thick static, and not a word was understood. Scrambling communications was a common tactic Garlemald employed… but why would they be using it now? K’thalen clutched his rifle and used his scope to get a better look; S’era couldn’t see what he was looking at, but watching his ears slowly flatten against his head was all she needed to know. “Cobo!” She tried again, “Turn them off! Disable the charg- ah!”
THOOOOOOOUUUUUUMMMM… 
All three Miqo’te saw the flash before they heard it. A brilliant blotch of red and white light peppered the forest, followed by trees swaying against the shockwaves rolling across the woods. They clapped their hands over their ears and closed their eyes once the sound of rolling thunder and the scorched wind swept over them. When S’era stood back up and opened her eyes, she was greeted to a swath of flames and a growing column of smoke; the explosives she bartered from the goblins of Idyllshire had under-promised and over-delivered, sending globules of ignited napalm to scatter in every direction. Another round of explosions rocked the once peaceful woods, but this time the flames burned an eerie blue; the Garleans were carrying refined ceruleum with them.
Sir Pherond Baldarrak glanced down at the blinding light as he swung his leg over his chocobo’s saddle. “About time.” He lifted his gauntlet over his helmet and pulled the visor down, before he pressed the spurs on his treads against the thighs of his mount. “We ride Sophea! For S’tage! For S’era!”
“No! No no no…!” S’era yanked K’thalen’s rifle out from his hands and peered through the scope to see Pherond charging down the cliff toward the blaze; R’zevi had doubtlessly seen the signal and moved in to engage as well. “We…! It’s too late!”
“We can’t let a single Garlean escape, lass!” K’thalen politely yet firmly took his magitek rifle back. “Especially Tullus! Or Revenant’s Toll is history! Again!”
“C-cover both ends of the woods! Don’t let any of them escape!” S’era shot a weary glance to K’vyna before clutching the hilt of her uchigatana and leaping off the side of the cliff.
“Era… what have you done?!” K’vyna stood there in shock, staring at the chaos that erupted before her. These explosions were loud enough to wake the dead, or worse- the other castrums; if they are alerted, then their reinforcements would come swiftly and in lethal force. But there was no way to contact her friends now that her traps went off. There was only one real option left.
Pherond loosened the iron flail on his hip and began swinging it high and hard over his head; the spiked ball at the end whistled through the smoke and embers when he reached the bottom of the hill, and it took nearly all of his strength to keep it from ripping out of his gauntlet. His eyes flashed underneath his visor when he saw his first target- a legionary separated from the rest of the platoon from the explosions. The soldier looked up at Pherond in shock right before he swung the flail in a downward arch, striking him in the helmet. The Knight began to spin the flail again, hearing the full helmet strike a nearby tree, as his chocobo Sophea continued the charge. Two legionaries caught alone this time, with one trying to revive the other; the flail nailed him dead-center in the chest, sending his broken body backflipping into the dirt. Sophea pecked at another soldier with her armored beak, shattering his shoulder and collarbone underneath his armor. The Knight switched hands amidst the preparation of another swing, striking the back of the neck of a distracted medicus; the flail caught this time, and Pherond was moving too fast to pull the spiked ball out from the falling corpse- so he was forced to let it tear from his grip and leave it behind.
In the distance he saw the towering shadow of a magitek colossus. A leg was covered in napalm while it struggled to remain standing, using its massive blade as a cane to keep it upright; a perfect time to take it down for good, as any. He whipped the reins and Sophea took off, trampling and goring several more soldiers with her long and curved talons. The Knight grit his teeth when his armor began deflecting arrows but he didn’t flinch, reaching up over his back to pull his greatsword from its harness. The colossus turned its tiny head in his direction and pushed off the ground to force itself to stand, but the ceruleum burning at its armor caused one leg to buckle, and it dropped to a knee again.
"For Ishgard!" Pherond leaned to his right and swung the heavy blade as hard as he could, clipping the dirt and grass along the ground with his crescent arch. Right under the knee, just between two plates, his greatsword bit down hard through the fiber mesh underlay and crippled the mechanical monstrosity for good. “Sophea, go! Yaah!” The Knight swung his leg around and slid off his chocobo’s saddle, his open palm striking the flank of his mount to send her running. Pherond balanced the greatsword on his shoulder and charged at the colossus again, covering the eye slots on his visor with his free hand to protect himself from the Garlean Sagittarius Archers from getting any lucky shots.
THUMP! THUMP! THUMP! THUMP!
His heavy boots carried him and all his weight forward, slamming against dirt, then stone, then the length of a fallen tree trunk. Pherond gripped his greatsword over his head when he heaved himself into the air toward the crippled machine, and with a surge of strength he brought his mighty weapon down onto the neck with an executioner’s precision.
Garlean soldiers scurried through the forest in an effort to surround and overwhelm this armored knight, completely leaving their backs to the rest of the burning woods. Gliding over the underbrush, hidden in the trees, and landing in the darkness behind them, R’zevi waited until the perfect time to strike; and he didn’t have to wait long. He pressed the knuckles of his left hand against the bark of a sturdy tree and closed his eyes. “Ssssshhh… hooooohhhhh…” Four deep breaths would be enough- he slowly twisted his fist against the bark before both eyes and all five chakra shot open; power surged through his right hand and gathered in his fist, and he sent it forward with everything he had.
The five soldiers standing in the tree’s path never saw it coming. It was ripped clean by the roots and sent flying into the squad, rolling over their crushed bodies before shattering against its brother trees in an explosion of splintered wood and dirt. R’zevi dashed across the open field with more power surging into both hands, setting them ablaze. A Garlean Hoplomachus Gladiator raised his shield in his defense, but the Monk’s fists dented the shield on the first punch, shattered his arm on the second, and sent his broken body flying on the third.
“Over there! Another one!” A soldier cried out, alerting everyone within earshot. Bows and gunblades alike were whipped around to fire on him, but he was almost too fast for the eyes to follow. R’zevi performed a powerslide toward the closest Garlean, and with a forceful kick with both feet, inverted the man’s knees and shattered his legs into pieces. His blazing fist swiped away the lunge of a lance before imploding a man’s breastplate; R’zevi held his broken body and used him as a meat shield against all manner of arrows and spells on his way to cover. “Where did he go?! Don’t lose sight of him!” Like the fleeting evening breeze, the Monk vanished almost as quickly as he appeared. 
“Stay away from the trees!” Someone warned, causing the few standing dangerously close to the shadows to move more out in the open. Just as they began to cover each other’s backs, the heavy pounding and rumbling of earth caused them all to look to the west; a giant tree as ancient as it was thick came toppling over with a crackling rattle. Most of the soldiers leapt out of the way in either direction, but one was crushed for his slow reaction.
R’zevi appeared again to catch the divided forces off guard. He twirled through the air and caught one in the side of the helmet with his heel, before a barrage of punches turned another into a crumpled heap of broken bones and dented armor. One by one they died before they could even defend themselves, all except for one- he held his gunblade steady and open fired, nicking the Monk’s ear while he barely dodged an otherwise lethal shot to the head. “Come here you filthy savage! Let’s see how good you really a-” The soldier didn’t even have time to finish his taunting once R’zevi practically glided through the air to him; he pointed his gunblade at him for a point-blank shot, but barrel nor the blade never found its mark. The Monk caught the gunblade between the fingers of his left hand, and the palm of his right, and with a violent twist the weapon split in half. A lightning-fast jab to the throat brought him to his knees, but before he could react properly, R’zevi grabbed him by the helmet with both hands and twisted his head all the way around.
Tullus sas Virilus opened his eyes to the blinding orange haze and the muffled sound of his own breathing. The spinning branches overhead were reluctant to slow down, and the dizzying ringing in his head felt like it would never cease. Tullus tasted blood in his mouth, and when he tried to move, a sharp ache struck him in the chest and right thigh. “Sir! Sir!” He finally noticed one of his guards kneeling over him and clutching his hand. “Get up! We have to get you out of here!”
“S-status…” He weakly coughed out while trying to blink his disorienting fatigue away.
“Explosives were concealed in the forest and detonated once we were right on top of them! It’s an ambush, sir!”
Tullus’ eyes opened once the gravity of the situation dawned on him. He clenched his bloodstained teeth through the pain when he forced himself to roll over onto his hands and knees; where the ceruleum canisters he was supposed to deliver once resided, now only a crater of cobalt flames and molten glass remained. “Damn these primitives…! Without that ceruleum the Emperor will have my head…!” His gaze panned to the chaos unfolding around him; men were cooked alive in their suits, turning dependable armor into melted prisons. The discordant wails of his subordinates filled Tullus with dread. Many soldiers clawed at their own bodies to put out the fires, while corpses crumbled and burning lay sprawled about the once quiet forest. It was clear he wouldn’t be able to regain control of his men- not while the burning ceruleum interfered with his communications; they were cut off, disoriented from the ambush, and were easy prey to those that set him up.
“Sir!” The soldier grabbed his attention again. “We need to get you to safety! The fate of Castrum Aeternium depends on it!”
“Raagh…!” A sharp groan slipped from his clenched teeth when he was hoisted to his feet; his magitek suit saved him from a mortal wound, but he could feel more than a few of his ribs were broken behind his dented breastplate. He reached up with a quivering hand and yanked his helmet off for some much-needed fresh air, letting the wind brush against the wet spot on the side of his head. “S-sound the retreat! Back to the castrum…! We’ll be sure to repay these fools once we’ve regrouped!”
“Sir! Behind us!” Tullus strained his neck to look over his shoulder; a heavily armored knight dropped from above and landed on one of his men, crushing him beneath a knee. On his way up he put all his weight behind the swing of his greatsword, cleaving two men in half at once. Red light flashed from his visor when he drove his blade into the ground, causing large black teeth to shoot up from the nearby shadows to tear several soldiers to pieces. Another foe appeared from the dark, smashing his fists and heels against the hard armor of those under his command, sending broken bodies twirling, spinning, and flipping into the dirt.
“Overwhelm and surround them!” Tullus commanded, clutching at his chest. “Buy me enough time for my escape!” Only a handful of his most loyal soldiers stayed at his side to escort him to safety; the others raised their weapons with a rallying cry and charged the two who dared spill Garlean blood this morning. He looked up at the familiar sound of gunfire- flash after flash of a muzzle proved those two weren’t working alone. Not that it mattered; once he brought down the full might of Castrum Aeternium on their heads, they would be lucky if he was in a gracious enough mood to give them quick deaths. It was a long limp back to his fortress on foot, but perhaps if he could just get away from the burning ceruleum, he could call in air support to pick him up.
“What’s that? Ahead of us!” 
Tullus snapped his gaze forward to see a lone silhouette atop a small hill. The twitching black tail and the glimmering blue eyes under the straw hat revealed it was yet another savage, but this one was armed with only a uchigatana. “I will only ask you once!” A female voice called out. “What did you do to the silver-haired Miqo’te you held prisoner?!”
He wasn’t in the mood for conversation- especially one with lesser races. “What are you idiots waiting for?! My blessing?!” Tullus spat, glaring angrily at his guards. “Kill her! Kill her now!”
Four times S’era performed her mudra hand gestures. Four times the air around her fingers shimmered in the growing morning light. She gripped the hilt of her uchigatana with both hands and pulled the blade up into the air; lightning came down from a cloudless sky to strike the tip of the steel, wreathing her weapon in a cloak of fire and lightning. Unperturbed by the savage’s tricks, three Garlean swordsmen rushed her position while the two riflemen at Tullus sas Virilus’ side took aim and fired. She saw the flash of their gunblades, felt the gentle tug against her armor, but all she could hear was the familiar ringing in her head.
Eeeeeeeeeeee…
Her ninjutsu enchantments quickly destabilized until the blade turned white hot from the excess heat. S’era brought her blazing blade down with all the strength and speed she could muster, slicing through the first man’s like a hot knife through butter; flipping the edge around, she brought it back up, taking his arm and head in one clean fluid motion. Her uchigatana was plunged into the chest of the next in line, slicing him into pieces with four violent pulls of her blade. The third soldier collapsed onto his rear, dropping his weapon and panicking at the sight of how easy her terrifying weapon cut his comrades down. “W-wait! Wait mercy! MER-!” S’era leaped into the air and landed on him, thrusting into the eye-hole of his helmet. 
Morale was abandoned at the drop of a hat. The two riflemen didn’t bother hanging onto their weapons when they tried to make a run for it. “Where are you g-going?! COWARDS!” Tullus’ insults fell on deaf ears. S’era slid her sword along the ground before flicking it upward, sending a slash of fire and lightning to ravage one of the craven until he fell lifeless onto his face. She plucked the wakizashi sword from its sheath and hurled it into the back of the last man.
"You bitch…!" Tullus dove at the rifle on the ground and raised it up to send her to whatever primitive gods she worshipped; no sooner did he fire the last round in the chamber did she vanish in a cloud of smoke. Tullus sas Virilus slowly rose to his feet while he strained to locate her again. His body screamed in agony from his broken ribs, but now wasn't the time to worry ab-
S'era reappeared behind him. He spun around to slice at her with his gunblade, but she struck first.
"AARGH!" Her glowing blade sliced through both the weapon and his wrist with ease. Tullus dropped to his knees with a hard thud as he clutched his burning stub with his other hand; the searing heat from her uchigatana instantly cauterized his wound, but the agony stopped him from rising to his feet. Instead of cutting him down right then and there, S'era became as still as a statue.
Defeating such a high-ranking Garlean was… easier than she expected. Five people and a king’s bounty of explosives slaughtered nearly a hundred people in the span of an hour- and all without any casualties on their end. If killing Garleans was this easy, she would have stormed Castrum Aeternium by herself months ago. After all, why not? This Tullus sas Virilus was a total pushover… barely worth the effort to even swing this blade. And yet victory tasted hollow in her mouth. S’tage was still dead. His killer was still loose. And no matter how many Garleans she put to the sword, neither of those would ever change. If only she was faster. If only she was braver.
“Are you p-planning on staring me down to d-death…?” Tullus sneered, forcing his words through clenched teeth. “Finish what you started! S-strike me down and be cursed!” S’era snapped out of her dazed stupor and lifted her blade over her head. She could have split his head in half, or severed his shoulder from his torso, or even drove the edge of her blade between his eyes; but those options were still too quick for her liking. She obeyed the ringing in her head when she snapped her boot into his chin, shattering his teeth and causing his head to whip back. When he collapsed onto the ground, she planted her bloodstained boot on his thigh, before slowly driving her superheated uchigatana into his stomach.
“AARRGH! AAAAUUUGH! HAAAHHHGH!” 
His agonizing screams were music to her ears. She twisted the blade and drove it deeper into the ground until the melted blade finally snapped, shattering at the hilt. Then she stood there to watch him writhe and struggle against his torturous execution, losing the rest of his fingers when he desperately tried to pull the blade out of his roasting body.
“S’ERA!” A familiar voice cried out. Hadriel Isenhart stepped forward with his hand on the hilt of his katana, but the color was flushed from his face while he glared at her.
There were tears streaming down her face despite her grin spread from ear to ear. Watching Tullus sas Virilus burn to death in his armor was perhaps the most satisfying thing she’s ever watched, but the sight of her master robbed her of what little joy she could scrounge up from this mess. In a heartbeat the ringing in her head from her dizzying anger and righteous fury had fallen silent, and in that moment she realized just how exhausted she was. She didn’t understand why he began sprinting- was he going to kill her? The forest floor began to spin when she looked down and touched her stomach; she pulled back her hand to find her fingers covered in blood.
S’era looked back up at Hadriel before her leg buckled. She hit the ground hard with a heavy thud against her chest and the side of her face. Unable to keep her eyes open, the last thing she saw were her allies rushing over to her, with their voices so muffled and distant.
Slowly, gently, S’era gave into the temptation, and her consciousness abandoned her.
She found herself adrift in an empty void that stretched onward in every direction, forever. She couldn’t move a muscle- her limbs felt so heavy. It was difficult to think, exhausting to breathe, and impossible to feel. Her limbs were too heavy to move, like countless hands were holding her down.
“It felt good, didn’t it?” A booming voice rolled through the void like an underwater explosion. With nothing else to focus her attention on, she was compelled to listen. “Killing all those men. Putting fear in the hearts of Garlemald. Avenging your fallen Nunh.”
“Who are you…?” S’era could barely speak the words. 
“Have you developed a taste for it yet? Do you not want to hear the discordant screams of all those who wronged you? A crescendo so pure and beautiful. You are a songwriter. A poet. A painter.”
“W-what do you want?!”
“How many innocents did Tullus sas Virilus kill? How many prisoners were tortured at his command? They are all guilty. All of them. But by your hand the world is now safer. What do I want? I want you to hear them sing again. Savor the symphony you write with their screams. Let them know your wrath is not to be trifled with, your fury cannot be bartered with, and your hatred will not be calmed until you drown in their blood. Arise, S’era Rarku! Slash and sever until it is done!”
Sera's deathlike slumber came to an abrupt end at the buck of a chocobo carriage rolling into a stone… or a dead animal. “Keep her steady, godsdamnit!” Someone shouted to her left. “Are you trying to knock us out the back?!” Slowly she opened her eyes to the glare of the midday sun, the tattered remains of the drape barely holding together that once served as the canopy, and soft blue eyes staring down at her; her gaze focused and widened at the blood trickling down the side of his head, and the piece missing from his ear.
“She’s waking up…” R’zevi warned. “Did you hear me?! I said she’s waking up!”
“It’s no use! My magica isn’t working!” K’vyna’s voice echoed in her head this time. “These wounds are preventing my spells from healing her! Stop the carriage!”
“We stop and we lose her.” Hadriel chimed in, kneeling over her to inspect the injuries himself. “Just keep pressure on her wounds until we reach Gridania… and give her something for the pain.”
“I can’t…” S’era forced herself to speak, hardly recognizing her own voice. “My... legs…!”
“Era don’t try to move…” R’zevi wiped away the cold sweat glistening on her forehead. “Breathe in. Breathe out. We’re taking good care of you but you have to remain calm okay?”
"Guess sleepin' beauty 'ere finally got done dirt-nappin'.” Only one person she knew had an accent that thick. Across from her sat a rather bruised Lalafell by the name of Conobharo Cobharo; Conor to his friends. His favorite bandana enveloped his right arm, and was stained a deep shade of crimson. “Gave us all a right scare, lass, up an' faintin' an' bleedin' all o'er the bloody place." He winced as pain flared up in his injuries. "Ack… s'pose 'at makes a pair of us, though, aye?"
Sera was hardly in the mood for the inarticulate Plainsfolk's witty rejoinders after all she'd been through. And yet, she had more questions than she knew what to do with, and anything to help get her mind off the dizzying pain in her stomach and her possibly crippled body would be a boon. Curiosity drove her to ask, "What... what h-happened...?"
The bleeding bantam began to chortle, but was interrupted by a blood-flavored cough rising in his throat. “Brain-addled slag with magitek limbs ambushed me. Lucky I'm still availed of all me extremities, lass. Not what I'd trade wounds with ye.” She could barely understand him when she was in perfect health, but simply hearing his voice and mannerisms was enough to put the faintest of smiles on her face. “So… didja skip rope with 'at Tullus feck-shite's innards?"
“That’s enough of that.” R’zevi shot Conobharo a sharp glare. “He’s dead… it’s done.” S’era tried to focus on anything but the pain, but it was unbearable. Her gaze drifted to the front of the carriage to see the backs of K’thalen and Pherond on the reins, driving the whole group away from the chaos she wrought in Mor Dhona; she wanted to ask them if they were hurt, but her jaw was beginning to swell and lock.
Then she looked down. Her left hand was still gripping the warped hilt of her broken uchigatana; she could barely move her fingers in her gauntlet- they would have to cut through the threads to free her hand. She then reached for the pain on her stomach, feeling wetness along her fingers before K’vyna grabbed her by the wrist and forced her hand away. “Don’t touch it!” She snapped. “Don’t look!”
S’era couldn’t help herself; her gaze snapped to her bloodsoaked hand, and the ringing in her head returned once she realized this blood was hers. “She’s panicking…!” R’zevi warned, gently guiding the back of her head into his lap. “Look at me. Keep your eyes on me Era. Breathe in, breathe out.” She looked deep into his eyes but she could barely hear him, the throbbing pain was only made worse the more she tried to move. She tried to force her jaw open to say something- to say anything, but to no avail; she could neither breathe nor think straight, as the fear of death hovered over her like a spectre. 
“Restrain her!” Hadriel commanded, moving to pin her arm down while Conor scurried over to help hold down the other. R'zevi continued to stroke her cheeks and temples in an attempt to calm her down, but nothing was working. 
"Breathe! Era! … Era?!"
S'era's eyes slowly rolled into the back of her head before she slipped under once again. 
---
Mentions: @rzevi-tia-ffxiv​ @hadriel-ffxiv​ @conobharo-cobharo-xiv​
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Survey #421
“hunted by hundreds and never to be caught  /  descent to wander, bring terror and take 'em all beyond”
Which do you prefer, donut holes, jelly filled donuts or normal donuts? Normal donuts. When you get old, are you going to make a will? I mean probably. Ever made your own definition for something on Urban Dictionary? No. What do you call your grandparents? "Grammy" and "Grampa." Do you like weddings? Not especially because I'm a bitter fuck. Do you want to live in a dorm in college? I never wanted to, so I never did. Have you ever had your tonsils taken out? No. Are you single/taken/crushing/confused? Single/confused. Is your best friend single? Yes. Is your first real best friend still there for you? I mean we have one another on Facebook, but that's the extent of it. Do you still care for your first love? Very much. I hope he's doing okay since his mother passed. What color is your blanket? Navy with black swirls. Are you listening to music right now? Yes. I am obseeeeeessed with Alissa White-Gluz's cover of Powerwolf's "Demons Are a Girl's Best Friend." Have you ever felt as if you lost your one true love? I feel like that all the time. But I should add that I don't believe there is JUST ONE person designed for you. There are way, way too many people on this earth to have just a single, perfect match. Which do you like better: Bowser, Mario, Luigi, or Princess Peach? Well I mean I always picked Luigi in Mario Kart, so I got a bias, ha ha. How many tattoos do you have? Six. Plenty, PLENTY more to come, though. Would you ever consider getting a mohawk? No. What do you like to do most in your free time? Do random shit on the computer. What’s your work title? Unemployed. Do you pay rent? I don't. What was the reason behind the last time you wore a bandage? I cut my finger opening up a cup of yogurt. Yes, I'm serious. What music artist have you listened to a lot lately? Powerwolf, lately. And Motionless In White. Who is taller, you or your best friend? Me. When was the first time you ever listened to your favorite music artist? Well, as a little kid, Mom would play some Ozzy in the car occasionally, and I actually loved "Perry Mason" so much that I would ask for her to play it. Growing up I'd obviously heard "Crazy Train" through random things, but I never truly listened to him until I got into middle school and went through my mother's CD case, discovering new music as I got into rock and metal. Do/did your siblings cause trouble? Nah, not really. If your siblings are old enough, what do they do for work? I honestly don't remember my half-siblings' positions, but my immediate younger sister is a children's social worker, and my older sis is a mammographer. Have you ever been jealous of your siblings? Jealous, no. Envious, extremely. They know what the hell they're doing with their lives and making shit happen. Do you still live with your parent/s or do you live alone/with a partner? I live with my mother. What feeling do you have the most difficulty in expressing? Jealousy. How do you think you would handle yourself in a crisis situation? Freeze up and probably die lol. Does any particular season make you happier than others? Why/why not? Yes, autumn. It's not hot as fuck, the air always feels so fresh to me, and I love the many colors of fall. It's just... chill. Can you adapt to change easily? Any examples? FUCK. NO. Do you see yourself as worthy of love? Why/why not? This answer can change from "yes, because I'm a good human" to "fuck no because I'm worthless" in 0.5 seconds. Do you think you are competitive? Do you really dislike losing? Not in general, but I can be in some areas. What would you be famous for? Fuck if I know. If you had to, would you rather dye your hair red or black? Red. I loved my hair when it actually took red dye well. What do you typically do on Easter Day? Go to my older sister's house. Have you ever viewed the moon through a telescope? No. Do you normally finish one book before starting another? Always. If you were given the chance to be immortal, would you take it? Heeeeeell no. Would you pierce your nipples for $100? Almost certainly yes; I mean that's $100 for something I can just take out if I don't like it. Have you ever dated someone who had a child? No. Would you ever consider adoption? Even if I wanted a child, no. I know I would need either the blood connection or for the child to be my partner's that I truly love. Do you tend to go for guys/girls with certain eye/hair colors? No, I really don't care how you look on the outside. Do you know anyone who plays guitar? Yes. Do you live within an hour of the ocean? More like two hours. What are you currently sitting/laying on? My bed. Have you ever dated a friend of one of your siblings? No. Did you have an imaginary friend as a child? An imaginary wolf, yeah. Which parent do you look most like? My mom, I think. Ever failed a test? Yes. That's all I did in algebra during my last college attempt. Do you have any friends who are famous? No. Your most recent ex breaks down and tells you they love you, what do you do? Well I know she loves me as a friend, but idk if she still does romantically, but either way, I'd tell her I love her too and ask if I can do anything for her. You and your last ex: who should hate who? Neither of us. We have a perfectly fine relationship. Do you believe you pick who you fall in love with? Definitely not. Last thing you ate? I had a peanut butter sandwich for breakfast. Are you obsessed with someone? *discreetly eyes Markiplier* If you had to write a brief message on a dollar bill that many people would eventually see as the currency circulates, what message would you write? I'd have to think longer on this, but definitely something about not putting so much worth into the money and not allowing greed to rule the individual. What serves as the greatest motivation for you in your daily life? The hope for a happy, prosperous future. If you were a multimillionaire, what do you believe you would be doing at this very moment? Well, it's morning and this is my prime time to really just chill and do my first scope of the Internet, so I'd probably be in a beautiful house in the woods of the mountains by a beautiful waterfall. I'd have the windows down to listen to nature, make sure via AC if necessary that it's cool... Damn, that sounds nice. If you could have a cookie jar full of anything you wanted, except money or cookies, what would it be full of? Hm. Perhaps a very motivational quote that I'd draw each day, kind of like fortune cookies, but actually good and applicable, ha ha. If someone were looking for you in a bookstore, in what section would they be most likely to find you? YA or fiction. If your ex came up to you and asked you to take them back, what would you say? Anyone but Jason or Sara would be an automatic "no." Jason would have to really prove himself. Sara, I'd be willing, but would ask her if that's what she really wants given our positions right now. Do you think Ke$ha is annoying? I don't know anything about her personally. I actually liked her music back in the day, even when I was all about metal. Last time you were hit on? No idea. Do you ever write in pencil any more? I always do if I have that option. I don't like that you can't erase with a pen. If you HAD to get a piercing (not ears) what would you get? At this current time, my right nostril again. What do you wish you had more knowledge about? Politics. Would you ever get someone's name tattooed on you? Noooo. Do you have a lot of scars? Yes. I scar very easily. Have you ever had stitches? Twice. Have you ever dealt with a divorce or parents fighting or any kind of abuse at home? Before my parents divorced, there was a lot of fighting. Do you remember the person you first kissed? Of course I do. Have you ever kissed someone you weren’t dating? No. Who was the last person you fell asleep with? Sara. Have you ever listened to music you hated just to fit in? "Hated," no. I just tried to get into bands that I just couldn't, but didn't hate. Ever been called babe? Yeah. What is your favorite Pop-Tart flavor? Chocolate sundae. Have you ever made your parents cry? Yeah, sadly. Do you wear glasses? Yeah. And yet I'm still blind with 'em. Have you ever made out with somebody on a bed? Yeah. Are you tan? Most definitely not. How did you meet the last person you texted? She kinda like, gave birth to me. Next big event? My nephew's fifth birthday. Ugh, how is he getting that old. Do you think you have to be skinny in order to be beautiful? Fuck off, no. There are some gorgeous/attractive plus-sized people. Have you ever made out on a couch? Yes. Has the last person you kissed ever seen you cry? Oh god, she witnessed me sob once. Would you ever get gauged ears? I want very small gauges in my bottom earlobe piercings. What is your favorite sushi? Ew. Have you ever been in a school talent show? What for? Noooo sir. What were you like at 17? Oh god... so sad and yet so happily, madly in love at the same time. I both love and hate that era. Tell us about your worst date. Haven't really had a bad one. I had one with Tyler that was an adventure that most would consider awful (flat tire, had to walk in the whipping wind), but I had fun, ha ha. What should be illegal that isn’t already? I dunno. What’s the song you most wish you had written? Probably John Lennon's "Imagine." What is the worst break up you have experienced? Y'ALL KNOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOW. Do your parents wish you were more successful? Oh, I am CERTAIN they do. They'd never admit it, I'm sure, but I know I'm disappointing. I had so much promise in school. Has a significant other called you unattractive before? WOW, no. Has a significant other ever called you by the wrong name? omg no Have you ever caught someone doing something bad? Cheating on their bf, yes. Has a dentist ever screwed up on anything when working on you? No, I don't think so. What is the worst birthday you have ever had? My 16th. I felt very, very unloved. I don't even like going into it. Have you ever been spit on by a llama? No. Have you ever locked yourself out of your car/house? The house, yes. With my elderly dog with arthritis, in the middle of winter after a good snow. I was freezing, sitting on the front porch and eventually crying. My phone was inside so I couldn't reach my mom, who was at work. As night came, I finally broke and went down the street knocking on my neighbors' doors, and probably the worst fucking one opened. With a gun in his hand. He was apparently an ex-sheriff, and he clearly didn't trust me. He was kind enough to let Teddy, who was incontinent and marked territory, inside (thank fuck he didn't pee in the guy's house), and he gave me a jacket, but Christ, we played 20 goddamn questions to see if I was legit, I'm assuming. I was beyond thankful when Mom finally got there when I used his phone to call her. And as it turned out? The door wasn't even fucking locked, our old dog just jammed the hell outta it by jumping. I was so, so pissed.
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b-witchered · 4 years
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Eeeeeeeeeee! I love tgia SO MUCH❤️ Any chance of more Renfri and Renfri&Yennefer? 🥺 The parallels on chapter 11 were f***ing amazing. (Thank you for writing the alive!Renfri we all deserved)
Renfri and Yennefer definitely get more scenes together! However, I do fear I’m setting up some of my readers for failure oops. Renfri/Yennefer as a couple isn’t going to happen within the scope of tgia for a few reasons
PUTTING THIS UNDER THE CUT, plus a little tgia snippet from the next chapter, because i have never been accused of being concise in my life
Honestly? They might have slept together at some point when Geralt and Yennefer were on the outs. They’re both very attractive individuals, danger and almost dying clearly gets Yennefer fired up, and Renfri has been known to make questionable sexual choices when it comes to Very Dangerous Individuals. So their relationship probably does include some flirting, some pushing of boundaries, some erotic subtext where Renfri has at least once put her sword under Yennefer’s chin and tilted it up
But when it comes to an actual relationship, Renfri at least is smart enough to put her foot down. They’re fine as rivals-friends-frenemies, but Renfri has some serious trust issues. Especially with mages. Especially with brotherhood mages. Yennefer knows Stregobor. She might not like him, but they belong to the same order. 
And then there’s the big thing between them: Yennefer wants kids. She wants, desperately, to be a mother. This is tied into her whole desperation for unconditional love thing she has going on. Renfri? Does not want kids. Absolutely against them. If she somehow gave birth tomorrow, that kid would be either adopted out or in Jaskier’s care quicker than you could say “curse of the black sun”. It’s not even that Renfri doesn’t like kids. She’d be a great weird-aunt-who-gives-an-8-year-old-a-real-sword-as-a-present. But Renfri does not want to be responsible for a child’s life and health and safety.
There are other little things. I love comparing and contrasting Renfri and Yennefer in tgia honestly because it’s so much fun? Yennefer was born a peasant and clings desperately to the power and prestige her magic affords her. Renfri was born a princess and cast it aside with pride so that she could be as unladylike as she pleased. Both of them knowing that power means sacrifice. It’s a gilded cage to be sure, but it’s still a cage. Yennefer was willing to make the sacrifices and change herself to gain power while Renfri ran. Granted, Renfri ran for many reasons but let’s be real, tgia!Renfri wouldn’t have stuck around to be married off and shuffled away to a quiet corner of the kingdom, out of sight out of mind. 
Renfri was a princess, but her father was a King with male heirs. No matter what parallels I draw, her situation was vastly different from Princess Pavetta, sole heir of Queen Calanthe. And even then, even then with circumstances giving her great importance and a parent in power who should have been sympathetic to her plight, Pavetta was still a pawn on a board who was expected to marry a man she did not love for a political match and then become a background trophy. But even so, Pavetta would always have been Queen and the keeper of her bloodline, and so retained at least some power. Until she produced an heir of course, after which she would have become... less important to keep alive.
Renfri on the other hand? After Jaskier’s birth, she’s a spare. Jaskier is the male heir, and so he got to leapfrog over Renfri in the inheritance. Renfri is officially a bargaining chip, one that doesn’t even have to be compromised with because she is not going to be running the country. As best she could maybe hope to strike a political match with a prince and become a queen of somewhere not her homeland, with little power and easily replaceable. But Stregobor claimed Renfri had internal mutations, ones that might make her sterile, and so as a bride she would be... undesirable to say the least, except perhaps as a bride to a widower who already had heirs to follow him and needed no more. Perhaps to a second son who needed a bride but whose family tree needed no new branches. Which means she would likely be married off to a man, possibly very much her senior, probably not a King but perhaps a Lord (or lord’s son) currently in the king’s favor. This choice would have been made for her, and she would have been expected to accept her new position with grace.
Yennefer’s father sold her away as well. Yennefer’s father struck a financial deal. Renfri’s father’s deal would have been political in nature, likely. Yennefer was bargained away to the brotherhood, Renfri would have been bargained away to a man. 
(me, loudly: what about the implications of a mage organization comprised of all genders being called the brotherhood.)
Renfri and Yennefer each have. A lot of issues. A lot of these issues would make then incompatible for a longterm relationship. Renfri needs someone she can feel safe with, and that someone is never going to be a brotherhood mage, even if it could even be a mage at all. Yennefer needs someone who loves her unconditionally, who places her first, always. She needs to be someone’s first priority. That doesn’t necessarily have to be a romantic relationship mind you, but either way that person can’t be Renfri. For Renfri, her first priority is Jaskier. Always. Just like Jaskier’s first priority will always be Renfri. 
(He loves Geralt, he does, but if Geralt was his first priority then he would have told him about his sister long ago. Geralt is important to him, and he would move heaven and earth for the Witcher, but his sister is the only family he dares to claim and he defeated death itself in her name.)
Yennefer and Renfri both have serious control issues as well. Yennefer has literally mind controlled Geralt before, has manipulated him, and keeps him on his toes. She has this need to be in control, and for the most part Geralt is fine with following where she leads, and that makes her feel safe with Geralt. Up to and until she finds out that Geralt’s wish might be the reason why she loves him, and then all of a sudden it isn’t her in control, it’s some untamable uncontrollable magic, and she absolutely flips her lid. She’s furious! She feels betrayed! All this time she thought she was in control, but then she finds out that Geralt tied their fates together or whatever. 
(Thankfully, this isn’t an issue in tgia, but Yennefer also doesn’t exactly love Geralt in tgia so much as she loves being loved. Their major conflict in tgia is probably going to be about children, honestly, because Geralt sure as fuck doesn’t want any.) 
Renfri? Also would very much need to be in control of a relation. Maybe especially the sexual aspects of it considering her trauma involving that. She’s pretty, and that hasn’t done her any favors. She bristles under restrictions and has broken the door of every cage people have tried to shove her into, including death though she had a little bit of help from Jaskier breaking out of that one. She’s protective, and secretive, and has trust issues a mile wide. She never even tells people her name. Every piece of personal information is carefully controlled. And who can blame her for her trust issues a mile wide? She was assaulted when she was fifteen. At least one man she willingly lay with literally murdered her the morning after (thanks Geralt). Renfri has issues with intimacy.
So yes, while I love throwing them in scenes together and I love their snarky terrible friendship where Yennefer proposes they do something terribly dangerous and Renfri is like “...i mean i GUESS i’ll go.” unless she has a prior commitment OR it conflicts with her primary motivation of protecting Jaskier (getting too close to Geralt threatens this purpose), they won’t be getting together in the scope of the fic
which i hope people won’t be too disappointed by oof
sorry for writing you a whole essay about Renfri and Yennefer when you probably did not want it lmao, as you can see this has been pressing on my mind and tumbled about more than a little bit. 
(honestly though if Pavetta hadn’t been married to Duny and hopelessly in love with him, I might have shipped her and Renfri tbh. They had plenty in common, Pavetta had magic and would have been powerful enough to defend herself but wasn’t a brotherhood mage, they got along well and had inside jokes, the only thing standing in the way of that ship (besides Duny and. you know. the whole death thing) is that Renfri wouldn’t be too keen on becoming a queen/having to deal with shithead nobles again and the whole issue of Stregobor. But Renfri is a princess of a royal bloodline, was raised to be royalty with knowledge of court customs, and is a trained and blooded warrior. Let’s be real, Calanthe would have loved Renfri as a daughter-in-law. Renfri is exactly the ruthless sort of heir Calanthe would adore. There would be the issue of an heir of course, but as long as Pavetta was the one pregnant it wouldn’t be a big deal because Pav’s the one with the important bloodline to carry on.)
ANYWAY you have been very patient with me so here is a tiny Yennefer and Renfri snippet from the next chapter - 
As soon as they’re alone, Renfri turns to Yennefer. “I’m going to kill you for this. One day. Sleep with one eye open, Witch.”
“Come now,” Yennefer teases, “It can’t have been that bad.”
“I genuinely can’t tell if he’s criminally stupid or just ignoring the obvious.” Renfri hisses, “I’m carrying a sword. What kind of handmaiden beheads a bandit?”
“A very loyal one.” Yennefer offers, but she’s trying way too hard to keep a straight face and Renfri can see the smile she’s doing her damnest to contain. 
“You’re lucky I didn’t kill him in his sleep the fourth time he started extolling your virtues for taking an ‘unpolished peasant’ under your wing.” 
That makes Yennefer break face and give a most unladylike snort that she covers with one dainty hand. “You know,” She says, laughter still in her voice, “I wouldn’t need him if you just agreed to go with me.”
“If this is you trying to annoy me into going on an adventure with you, the answer is no.” Renfri immediately states. “Need I mention the last time you talked me into going monster hunting for you? There was a fucking manticore nest, Yennefer.”
“You enjoyed yourself, admit it.” Yennefer smiles with a flip of her hair.
Renfri presses her hand together and then presses them to her lips like she’s about to start praying for Yennefer to get some sense in her empty, empty head. “You are literally insane. You know that right? Stark raving mad.”
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pinkdemonade · 4 years
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💢
To get the obvious out of the way, I hope Undyne isn’t a cop in the full version of Deltarune ::/ I feel that most of my actual criticisms could go towards FNaF since like!!! There is not a single living creature in the universe who actually knows what’s going on in that series!!! I think the biggest question for me is... What is William Afton’s motivation?? Was it EVER stated in any of the games?? I mean he’s the most evil person on earth or whatever but like!!! Why is he even doing this?? I know there’s that remnant stuff but that’s hardly an explanation!!! Personally I think it’s all because he’s British
Something I just, straight up DESPISE about FNaF is the fatphobia. The two Chicas that are supposed to be attractive are also the only ones who are skinny... Plus that Freddy in Space 2 game making her into “already ate chica” who is absurdly large and throwing up food... It feels like Scott said “Oh? You want Chica to have a consistent body type huh? HERE’S your fat Chica, assholes!!!” I KNOW Let’s Eat is her thing but... She could’ve been handled SO much better.... And of course the fandom isn’t exempt from this, either. Also hiring transphobic artists,with one of them only knowing how to draw one kind of face, to illustrate your graphic novels.. Probably wasn’t a good idea. I’m SO glad the one of them got replaced, but I’m not sure if the other one has been yet or what.
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vexedtonightmares · 5 years
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with great power (elu spiderman au)
eliott has been saved by spiderman quite a few times for absolutely no reason. hopeless romantic that he is, eliott accidentally starts falling for spiderman somewhere along the way and doesn’t know what to do about it. obviously, there’s only one solution. he and his good friend lucas should pretend to date to make spiderman jealous. there’s no ulterior motives here, of course, just lucas helping a bro out.
aka eliott’s falling in love with spiderman, lucas is in love with eliott, and lucas is spiderman.
1 2 3 4 5 6
ao3
no.7 “My life isn’t a fanfiction.”
Spiderman had been completely MIA since Eliott had last seen him. No stopping bad guys, no saving people, no media coverage, no stalking Eliott for no reason. It was what he’d hoped for last week, before their kiss, but now he really, really just wanted clarity. He was minutes away from going back to that place he’d happened upon the week before, the place that had set this entire series of events into motion. 
But he didn’t, and Spiderman didn’t contact him in any way, so he was left in the dark. 
He figured drawing might take his mind off things a bit, so he got out some pens and put one of his favorite records on the player, tuning out any and all Spiderman or Lucas related thoughts. He even went so far as to mentally ban himself from adding hedgehogs to his drawings for the rest of the day. It was unrealistic, but he’d try to refrain for as long as possible.
It worked well, for a time, just him, the music, and his mind, off limit topics entirely off limits. He hadn’t done this in quite some time, draw for the sake of drawing, no other deeper intent. He might have done it all day had a knock not sounded on his door. Frowning he went to look to see who it was, he wasn’t supposed to have plans with anyone.
Yann stood at the door, expectant expression on his face. Eliott couldn’t have been more confused. Sure, he loved Yann and they were friends, but he didn’t think they’d ever actually hung out one on one before. The only members of the gang he’d hung out with one on one were Lucas and, on occasion, Arthur. 
“Hey, Yann, what’s up?” Eliott said regardless of his confusion, welcoming Yann into his flat. Yann gave him a small smile as he stepped inside, following Eliott into the living room where Eliott’s record player was still churning out the sounds of some classical artist Lucas liked but would never admit he liked to anyone else. He switched it off quickly and sat on the chair opposite Yann. 
“I know,” Yann said simply. Eliott squinted in false confirmation, pretending he had a clue what Yann was talking about. “You’re killing Lucas, bro, and I couldn’t call myself his best friend if I didn’t say anything about it,” he continued. 
Eliott didn’t say No, I’m Lucas’ best friend, but he did say, “Wait, what? What are you talking about?”
“I know,” Yann repeated, “That you’re not actually dating.”
Eliott stiffened in his seat, but he couldn’t feel angry at Lucas for telling Yann, because he himself had told Idriss. “Um. Ok?” What else was there for him to say?
“I’m telling you this because I care about Lucas a lot, and if you’re going to hurt him, I want to know how many pieces I’ll have to be there to pick up,” Yann said, which Eliott thought was unfair. Why would Eliott hurt Lucas? Lucas was the one who wanted them to ‘break up’. 
He voiced this. “I appreciate your concern, Yann, but if anyone’s going to get hurt it’s going to be me.”
Yann looked unconvinced. “How do you figure that?”
“Because I’m in love with him, and he’s in love with someone else. Or, he was, at least. I’m not really sure what’s going on with that at the moment…” Eliott trailed off as Yann looked at him in disbelief. “What?”
Yann blinked. “Sorry. Just making sure I’m talking to Eliott, not Lucas.”
Eliott raised his eyebrows, not really in the mood to deal with anything cryptic. If Yann wasn’t just going to say what he meant, Eliott would ask questions until he did. “Please, elaborate.” 
“God, no offense, Eliott, but you’re even more of an idiot than Lucas,” Yann began.
“Ouch.”
“I said no offense! But come on, dude. You’re the guy Lucas has been in love with the whole time. You didn’t find it odd that he said he didn’t think his crush was into him after he heard you kissed Spiderman?” Yann asked.
“How did you know that?” Eliott asked, “Besides, Spiderman kissed me.”
Yann gave him a look that said, Does that really matter right now? Eliott supposed it didn’t. “I’m the one who gave Lucas the idea to fake date,” Yann admitted sheepishly, “That’s how I know. He keeps me posted.”
Yann was the one… Eliott wanted to feel betrayed, but if Yann was telling the truth and Lucas was really in love with him, he had bigger things to think about. 
“I’m gonna ask you something,” Yann said slowly, pulling Eliott from his thoughts, “Are you really in love with Lucas, ready to leave Spiderman behind? Because Lucas is a real person, right in front of you, and Spiderman is some enigma in a mask.”
“I want to be,” Eliott said, which he knew wasn’t much of an answer. That’s why it was so confusing, because Eliott didn’t feel like Spiderman was some enigma, he felt like he knew him.
Yann stayed silent, giving Eliott time continued to think through his feelings. “I know that I love Lucas, I think I have longer than I realized, but when Spiderman kissed me it was like something clicked into place. It was the best kiss I’ve ever had. But I don’t know if it was just meant to be that, a great kiss, or something more.”
“Well let me ask you something else,” Yann said, leaning forward in his chair. “Why do you love Lucas?”
Why didn’t he love Lucas? “How long do you have?” Eliott asked with a small laugh before continuing, “He’s just perfect. Well, not perfect, but imperfectly perfect in an unapologetic way, you know? He doesn’t do everything right all the time but it’s ok, because I love him more and more for every mistake he makes. It makes me feel more worthy of him, because god knows I’m as flawed as they come. He never once has made me feel less than anyone, though, never once has even implied that I’m a burden on him, not like so many people I cared about deeply. He doesn’t bring light everywhere he goes, but I want to follow his path anyway, because he’s afraid of the dark and I want to bring whatever light he lacks. He loves so much more intensely than he even realizes and I just know that whoever he loves would have his whole heart, and he deserves that and more in return. Plus, have you seen him? He’s the most beautiful person in the entire world.” 
Yann looked vaguely exasperated, and Eliott cringed a bit. He probably could have gone a little less in depth. “Ok… why do you love Spiderman?”
“I…” Eliott thought about it, and thought about it. Spiderman felt real to him, felt familiar, but the sad reality was that he didn’t know enough about him to even contemplate why he loved him or whether he even was in love with him. “I don’t know. It was more of an in the moment feeling, I guess.”
“Isn’t that your answer?” Yann asked.
“Isn’t what my answer?”
Yann looked Eliott right in the eye. “You love the idea of Spiderman, you love Lucas. It’s not a bad thing to love the idea of someone, a lot of times loving the idea of them can lead to real love. But would you rather live your life without Lucas or without Spiderman? Because at the end of the day that’s what it comes down to.”
“I could never live without Lucas. A life without him isn’t much of a life at all,” Eliott said instinctively. Yann simply raised his eyebrows, as if that was answer enough. Perhaps it was. 
Eliott was such a fucking idiot. 
Something occurred to him. “Wait a minute… you said you came up with the fake dating idea… why on earth would you do that if you thought it would hurt Lucas?”
“Have you never seen a romance movie before or something?” Yann asked incredulously. Eliott squinted his eyes and gestured vaguely, awaiting explanation. Yann rolled his eyes in a way that reminded Eliott very much of Lucas. “The fake dating trope? Two people who are clearly into one another decide to fake date to attract the attention of other people, but end up falling in love themselves?”
Eliott stared at Yann, mouth agape. He had no words. “My life isn’t a fanfiction,” he said stubbornly. 
“Fuck, bro, it should be,” Yann laughed, throwing his head back. Eliott probably would have laughed along if he weren’t both impressed and wary of Yann’s romcom trope knowledge, enough so that he’d successfully put it to use.   
“I think this is the point in the romcom where you go run after Lucas and confess your love to him in the pouring rain,” Yann prompted, and Eliott finally gave in, laughing.
“It’s not even raining,” he pointed out, though he knew Yann was right. He was restless now, couldn’t keep his thoughts from straying to Lucas even if he tried. 
Yann shrugged. “Even better. This way I won’t have to deal with Lucas complaining when he gets a cold from being out in the rain.”
Eliott smiled to himself at the thought. Although, if all went to plan, Lucas wouldn’t need to complain to Yann, because Eliott would wrap him up so tight and never let him go, and they would spend their days side by side like they always did, but in a completely different way.
“Well?” Yann raised his eyebrows again. “What are you waiting for?”
🕷🕷🕷🕷
Eliott was sitting on the bench flipping his phone over and over in his hands. The bench. It was where Lucas had come out to Eliott, where Eliott had come out to Lucas, where Lucas had explained the situation with his parents and why he had been living in the basement of Manon’s flatshare for months, where Eliott had told Lucas about his diagnosis, and, today, it would be where Eliott told Lucas he loved him for the first time.
Was it too much, to say such a thing so early in what Eliott hoped would be a relationship? Maybe it was too late, that was also a possibility. He couldn’t expect Lucas to wait around for him forever, based on what Yann had insinuated. It was entirely possible Lucas was done waiting for him to get his shit together. 
What would he do if Lucas was done waiting? What would he do if they kept missing each other in love and ended up miserable? He wouldn’t go running back to Spiderman, he promised himself that much. Spiderman was Spiderman, and Spiderman was amazing, but he wasn’t Eliott’s forever. Not that he needed to be worrying about a forever in high school, but he thought Lucas might be the one to hold that title if they both opened up and allowed themselves to fall fully.
He’d never felt the way he felt about Lucas before. His only notable relationship was with Lucille, and while it had its good moments, the bad moments were bad enough that Eliott knew they could never spend their lives together. Neither of them had intentionally hurt the other, but even then Eliott was always quick to jump whenever Lucas called, even if he was on a date with Lucille. He couldn’t imagine leaving Lucas to run to anyone else. 
How in the hell had it taken him so long to realize he was head over heels in love with this tiny, grumpy, beautiful boy?
His heart was beating so rapidly he almost didn’t notice Lucas as he walked over to the bench, no limp or anything. He sat down apprehensively and Eliott scrunched his face up, abandoning his internally rehearsed romantic monologue. 
“Don’t you have a sprained ankle?” he asked instead.
Lucas narrowed his eyes, knowing that’s not why Eliott asked him to meet there. “It healed.”
“It healed,” Eliott repeated slowly. 
Lucas shrugged and nodded. Eliott was no medicine man, but he did know that it took longer for sprained ankles to heal than a couple days. Whatever, he hadn’t come to question Lucas’ body’s ability to heal sprained ankles, he’d come to tell Lucas something he’d been holding deep inside much longer than he realized.
“So… why did you want to meet me here?” Lucas asked after a beat. “Is something wrong?”
Eliott shook his head. “No, no, the opposite, actually. It’s about the person I like. More than like, I think.”
The look on Lucas’ face changed immediately, his posture shifting from comfortable to stiff, smile going from teasing to forced. “Oh?”
“I realized recently that I’ve been an idiot,” Eliott began, trying to work his way up to what he wanted to say. He didn’t want Lucas to feel tense or nervous, but he couldn’t just say I love you without explanation. He continued, “You know me, you know I get lost in fantasies more often than not, sometimes so much so I begin to mistake them for reality. I thought I fell for Spiderman because there was something special between the two of us, something undeniable, you know? It felt like I knew him, underneath the disguise. But I didn’t fall for Spiderman.”
Lucas’ head shot up, brows furrowed deeply as their eyes met. “I fell for someone else, someone I might have been falling for for years without realizing it,” Eliott continued, feeling his cheeks start to warm. Lucas looked like he was understanding what Eliott was trying to say, but he didn’t believe it. “I fell for my best friend, it just took me a little while to distinguish between real love and an idealized love. I don’t have to love a superhero to have the kind of love you find in the movies, true love will make you feel better than love in the movies, because at the end of the day, movies are just stories and this is real life. It’ll be ugly sometimes, but I’ll be damned if I lose a once in a lifetime love because I was waiting for something that doesn’t exist.”
Lucas’ brows were still furrowed, focused. “El, what are you saying?”
“I’m saying, Lucas, that I love you. More than I think I’ve ever loved anyone before. I didn’t ever want to picture my world without you in it, but now I don’t ever want to picture a world without you in it as something more than my best friend. I wear my heart on my sleeve, but that heart is fake. It sees what it wants to see and expresses love that it doesn’t really feel. Love that it can never quite obtain, because it’s scared of the consequences of falling for someone for real. I’m ready to let myself fall for someone for real, and I know that it’s you,” he said breathlessly, wanting nothing more than to cup Lucas’ cheeks with his hands. 
“El…”
“You don’t have to say anything,” Eliott said quickly, “I just wanted you to know how I felt. How I feel.”
It would be nice if he did say something, though, so Eliott could stop screaming internally. The lack of reaction was a bit more disconcerting than Eliott had anticipated. He’d almost prefer if Lucas screamed in his face and walked away. At least then he’d have an answer. 
An answer, instead of Lucas staring at him, mouth agape, face unreadable. Maybe he shouldn’t have, but Eliott took a moment to appreciate everything that Lucas was. If this was the end for them, if Lucas was about to walk away from him forever, he wanted one last look at what could have been, of what he’d been too stupid to see before. 
He resisted the urge to reach out and touch, possibly for the last time, those cheekbones carved from marble, the lips his eyes felt drawn to, even now, lips he wanted to kiss at least once, but as much as possible if Lucas would let him. It was undeniable that Eliott’s favorite of Lucas’ features were his eyes though, his eyes that communicated every one of his unsaid feelings if Eliott only looked long and hard enough. The clear, deep, ocean blue that had been Eliott’s favorite color from the moment they met. It troubled Eliott that he couldn’t read the words in Lucas’ eyes at that moment. 
Lucas shut his eyes, long lashes resting on his cheeks, breathing in and out. When he opened his eyes Eliott was met with a sense of clarity reflected in those wide, beautiful blue eyes that Eliott wanted to spend each day falling in love with over again. 
“Eliott. You’re a fucking idiot.”
Fuck, fuck, fuck, this was where it all went to hell. What did Yann know anyway? No one else had ever insinuated that Lucas might have a crush on him or anything, maybe Yann was just seeing what he wanted to see. Maybe this was just a giant prank and the rest of the gang was waiting to pop out and laugh at him. 
He couldn’t do this, he couldn’t be there while Lucas rejected him and stomped on his heart. He stood abruptly, starting to walk away when he felt a hand on his arm, making him stop and turn around. Lucas took a step closer to him, face shining with emotions Eliott couldn’t place.
“Eliott,” Lucas repeated, placing his hands on either side of Eliott’s face, raising up onhis toes a bit, “You’re a fucking idiot because I love you so much.”
Eliott was barely able to process the words because a moment later their faces were close, close, closer, until their lips were touching and they were kissing and the rest of the world fell away.
His hands were in Lucas’ hair, Lucas’ brilliant hair, and Lucas’ hands were on his face, both clutching each other so tightly, as if they might fall apart at any moment. There was a symphony, a swell inside Eliott’s head and he couldn’t help but imagine this was a scene in a movie. Somehow, he’d gotten the boy, the boy of his dreams. If Lucas’ parallel universes did exist, Eliott wondered how many versions of them had found each other and how many were still searching. 
There was no doubt in his mind that every Eliott found their Lucas in every universe. Eliott was a hopeless romantic after all, he believed in soulmates, and he knew in that moment Lucas was his. He felt like an idiot for not realizing it much earlier, just as Lucas had said he was, but he firmly believed that things like this took as long as necessary, and once they fell into place that was it. Sure, they’d probably have some ups and downs, but Eliott was fairly certain his love for Lucas would never waver again.  
Eliott felt something wet on his face and he wondered briefly if one of them was crying, but he sank further into the kiss anyway, until Lucas pulled away and looked up at the sky in confusion. They barely had a moment before the clouds opened up and dumped what felt like an ocean’s worth of water down on them. Eliott nearly laughed, thinking of Yann and his romcom tropes. Kissing in the rain, what a cliché. 
He looked down at Lucas, who was still looking up at the rain with an incredibly blissed out expression, and he couldn’t help himself, he simply pulled Lucas face back up to his in another searing kiss that made his mind go completely blank in the best way possible. 
Sure his kiss with Spiderman had been amazing, but this was otherworldly. It had that same sort of familiarity as the kiss with Spiderman, like coming home, but Eliott could feel all the unsaid words and emotions between the two of them coursing through their kiss, a kiss that Eliott wanted to be a part of forever.
“I thought you would hate me forever when you found out,” Lucas said in a hushed gasp, dropping his gaze. Eliott understood his concern, even though he couldn’t imagine a world where he hated Lucas, even for a minute. 
“Found out what?” Eliott teased. Truly, he just wanted to hear Lucas say it again. Maybe then he would actually believe it, start to understand that this wasn’t just a giant prank and the man of his dreams also thought that he was the man of his dreams.
Lucas rolled his eyes fondly. “You know what.”
“I really don’t, enlighten me,” Eliott said with faux confusion. 
Lucas mumbled something Eliott couldn’t make out with the sound of the rain pelting them from every direction. Eliott raised one eyebrow, eliciting another eyeroll. “That I love you too,” Lucas said, a bit louder.
“Love me, do you?” Eliott gasped.
“Idiot.”
“He said with love,” Eliott grinned. 
Lucas stepped back and crossed his arms. “You clearly didn’t think so a minute ago.”
Eliott laughed loudly. “Hey, fuck off! You weren’t saying anything, I thought for sure you were going to turn me down.”
“As if anyone could turn you down. They’d have to be blind.”
“Oh, so you only like me for my looks then?”
Lucas shrugged, cocky smirk on his face. “Added bonus.” 
Eliott cupped his face and split into a grin so wide he was sure Lucas would find it overly cheesy or annoying. He spoke seriously, wanting to make sure Lucas heard him loud and clear. “I want you to know, wholeheartedly, that even if I didn’t feel the same way I would never hate you.” 
“I’m still having trouble believing that you feel the same way, honestly,” Lucas said. 
“Well, you’d better get used to it, I’m never letting you go,” Eliott said with an uptick of one eyebrow. 
“Never?” Lucas asked, and his voice was so small, so intimate, that Eliott just wanted to wrap him up in his arms and carry him all the way home. So he did. 
Lucas let out a gasp of indignation when Eliott picked him up and threw him over his shoulder, dissolving into small giggles. 
“Never,” Eliott promised.
🕷🕷🕷🕷
Eliott woke up next to Lucas, just as he had a few weeks prior, but everything was different about it now. Now, he didn’t have to pretend to be asleep when Lucas made a soft sigh and snuggled in closer to Eliott. Now, he could pull Lucas into him, feel Lucas press his face into his chest, and smile. 
He wasn’t sure how early or late it was, but he was grateful for their fake dating ruse because that meant no one would bother them about their whereabouts, assuming they were together. And they were, together for real. Not that they’d talked about it yet, but Eliott was fairly confident that they could take the ‘fake’ off ‘fake-boyfriends’. 
“El,” Lucas said sleepily, barely audible with his face in Eliott’s shirt. He lifted his face up and cracked his eyes open wearily. “Am I dreaming?”
“No,” Eliott affirmed with a grin, running one hand through Lucas’ hair. 
Lucas’ eyes flicked down as a soft smile spread over his face. “Oh,” he said, “Good.”
If Eliott could have captured Lucas’ face in that moment, he would have hung that picture up all over his house so he could see it everywhere he went. 
“Good,” Eliott repeated, and Lucas nodded. Lucas lifted his face back up, eyes trained on Eliott’s lips, and that was another sight Eliott could get used to. Lucas had the most adorable face when he wanted a kiss, a bit like a puppy, eyes heavily hooded in desire. Eliott, ever the gentleman, obliged him after taking a moment to appreciate Lucas’ cuteness. 
Their lips met in a softer fashion than they had the night before, knowing they had all the time in the world. They fit perfectly, matching lips and matching souls like they were always meant to. The night prior had brought a fervent passion with it, a desire so strong they could barely keep their hands off each other on the short walk back to Eliott’s place. Eliott had set Lucas down after a bit, unable to keep himself from kissing him again. At that point they’d both been soaked by the rain, but the warmth in Eliott’s chest kept any lingering chills away. He had a funny feeling Lucas felt the same way.
Plus, the rain had given them a reason to shower when they got back. After holding back from loving each other for so long, it was hard to not want to jump into everything right away, but they restrained themselves quite well— though not completely— for the time being. That wasn’t to say they’d taken separate showers. Please. But at least they hadn’t kept each other up all night, no matter how much they both wanted to. 
Lucas had fallen asleep with his head on Eliott’s chest, wearing Eliott’s clothes, and the world had felt so right at that moment. That rightness had carried into the morning, and lingered in every kiss they stole, smile they shared. 
Now, Lucas’ lips were still on his, and they were still lying lazily, no plans to do anything else for the entire day. He tasted better than Eliott even imagined, unlike anything Eliott had ever tasted before, but exactly like home. 
Eliott pulled Lucas on top of him and released a soft breath as Lucas leaned into him, joining their bodies together in perfect harmony. Eliott raised himself up slightly on his elbows and Lucas raised up with him, wrapping his hands to cup Eliott’s face, pressing into him little by little. 
Eliott suddenly had the sensation of the wind being knocked out of him and he flew off the bed, falling to the floor with a dazed expression. Lucas’ eyes were wide as they poked over above him.
“Oh my god, I’m so sorry, are you ok?” Lucas asked, assessing Eliott’s face with his eyes. Eliott scrunched his nose up and blinked slowly. 
“What the fuck just happened?” Eliott wheezed, and Lucas bit his lip, falling back onto his own pillow. 
He coughed uncomfortably. “Um, I guess I got a little too into it.”
“So you flipped me off the bed?” 
“I was trying to flip our positions,” Lucas said meekly, and Eliott couldn’t help but giggle from the floor.
Eliott sat up and looked at Lucas with raised eyebrows. “And you say you’re weak.”
“I guess I underestimate my strength sometimes,” Lucas shrugged uncomfortably. It was a bit odd that Lucas had accidentally thrown him off the bed, Eliott didn’t ever think he could do that accidentally, but stranger things had happened. Eliott narrowed his eyes but didn’t push the subject further, noting the panicked light in Lucas’ eyes. He didn’t want Lucas to feel bad about the situation at all. 
“Hey,” he said, standing up and plopping himself back down on the bed next to Lucas, “It’s ok, I’m fine. It was kind of funny, actually. Just don’t tell the gang about it, they’d never let either of us live it down.” 
Lucas cracked a small smile, finally. “Deal.”
“Does this mean it’s breakfast time?” Eliott asked, eliciting a groan from Lucas, who reached for him with grabby hands.
“No. Cuddle time,” Lucas said adamantly, and who was Eliott to refuse? He sunk back into the mess of pillows and sheets, pulling Lucas back onto his chest. This was his favorite way to lay with Lucas, he decided, arms circling him protectively. Not that Lucas actually had to be protected, but Eliott wanted to give him the sense that he would be there if the opportunity arose. Maybe he could be Lucas’ superhero.
Eliott looked down at Lucas head on his chest, hair flipping every which way. “Are you going to tell me how your ankle healed so fast now?”
Lucas scrunched his face up and tipped his head back to meet Eliott’s gaze. “Why? I don’t know, it just healed quickly, I guess.”
“Sprained ankles usually take over a month to heal,” Eliott pointed out, and Lucas sighed.
“Well, sprained was an over exaggeration. I told Manon it was sprained because then she wouldn’t fuss about me missing school, and apparently she told anyone who would listen. It twisted weird and they thought it might have been sprained, but I went back to the doctor’s office a couple days ago and it turns out it was just a muscle strain,” Lucas explained. 
“Hmm,” Eliott said.
Lucas rolled his eyes. “Hmm? That’s all you have to say?”
“I don’t know, I was worried about you! You had crutches!” Eliott said with a laugh. 
“The crutches were just a precaution, I literally only used them the day you all came over,” Lucas said, resting his head back down on Eliott’s chest. 
Eliott ran his fingers idly up and down Lucas’ spine. “Damn. I was looking forward to being your knight in shining armor.”
He felt Lucas’ grin pressed into the fabric of his shirt and couldn’t help but grin right back, even though Lucas wasn’t looking. “How do you know I’m not your knight in shining armor?” Lucas shot back. 
Eliott scoffed. “Because, I’m older, I have to be your knight in shining armor. Plus you’re as beautiful as all the princesses waiting in their tall towers for someone to come rescue them.” 
“Are you saying I’m a damsel in distress?” 
“If the shoe fits.”
“You’re mixing a lot of different fairytale stories here, I can’t keep up.”
“I could have made a Snow White and the Seven Dwarves joke about how tiny you are, but notice how I refrained?”
Lucas swatted him playfully and pouted. “I think that counts as making the joke.”
Eliott widened his eyes innocently and grinned wider than he had in a long time. Lucas continued, “Would it be so weird, if you were the damsel, and I was your knight?” His voice carried a timid quality Eliott didn’t entirely recognize.
He thought about Lucas’ question. Would it be weird? Not really, even if Eliott admittedly couldn’t imagine it. He wanted to protect Lucas from any evils the world had to offer, and he would go to the ends of the earth to do so. If he was so busy doing that, what would Lucas have to save Eliott from? Himself, maybe, but Lucas had always been rather apt at that.
“I have been the damsel,” Eliott said, “But my only enemy has been my own mind.”
“And was I your knight?” Lucas asked softly, tracing lines from Eliott’s brows to his cheekbones to his jaw. 
Eliott clasped that hand softly with his own, holding it pressed up against his face. “You were more than that. You were my light.”
Lucas’ grip tightened, even as he said, “Nope, not possible.”
“Excuse me?” 
“I can’t be your light when yours is brighter than any star in the universe,” Lucas told him matter-of-factly. If Eliott wasn’t already in love, he might have fallen right in that moment. No one else in his life would ever say something like that and mean it the way Lucas did. It was a beautiful thing, to see yourself the way someone else did, even if he didn’t entirely agree.
“Even the sun?” Eliott asked, deflecting the thickness in his throat that threatened tears of pure love. 
Lucas laughed, loud and harsh. “The sun? You think the sun is the brightest star in the universe?”
“Isn’t it?” Eliott asked genuinely.
“Um, no,” Lucas scoffed, “Have you never taken an astronomy class or anything?”
Eliott laughed a bit to himself. “Uh, no, I haven’t.”
Lucas’ face softened, then turned bright red. “Oh.” He laughed, hiding his face in Eliott’s chest. “Sorry. But, um, the sun isn’t the brightest star in the universe.”
“Well then what is?”
Lucas shrugged. “We don’t know. The brightest star known to man is Sirius, though.”
“Like Sirius Black?” Eliott asked with a grin. Lucas was a massive Harry Potter nerd, though he might claim otherwise. 
“Exactly like that,” Lucas said with a sly grin, “J.K. Rowling named him after that star, also known as the dog star. His name literally means ‘Black Dog’. And Remus Lupin is basically just ‘Werewolf McWerewolf’.”
“Do you think that in an alternate universe we met at Hogwarts?” Eliott asked, goading Lucas further into the topic. He loved the way Lucas’ eyes gleamed with a wild light when they talked about something he had an endless supply of knowledge on. 
“Of course,” Lucas said, “You’re obviously a Ravenclaw, but maybe you transferred from Beauxbatons or something, you know, for the intrigue of it all. I’d be a Gryffindor—”
Eliott cut him off with a laugh. “Pssh! Please. You’re Slytherin through and through.”
“Trust me, pal, I’ve considered it all, but at the end of the day I’m a Gryffindor and that’s all there is to it,” Lucas argued, “Though I’m glad you think I’m part of the sexy house.”
“Isn’t Slytherin the evil house?”
“That’s what they want you to think.”
“And what do you think?”
Lucas considered him carefully. “I think… that even as a Ravenclaw, you’re the sexiest of them all.”
Eliott closed his eyes and took a deep breath. “You’re making it very difficult to just cuddle.”
“Oh yeah?” Lucas goaded, and even with his eyes closed Eliott could hear his wide, toothy grin. “And what do you want to do instead?”
“Don’t tempt me, L,” Eliott pleaded, only half joking. 
“What if I want to?”
Eliott’s eyes opened in a snap, Lucas’ face hovering over his. “You’re going to be the death of me, I hope you’re aware of that.”
“That was the plan all along, didn’t you know,” Lucas said softly, leaning in even further, lips meeting again in perfect harmony. It seemed they wouldn’t be leaving bed the entire day. Eliott had trouble finding a reason to complain about that.
Maybe the moment way fleeting, but in that moment everything was right in the world.
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