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therealvinelle · 3 years

Note

Ok I'm embarrassed to admit this, but I'm just now copying your Norwegian Bella AU into a text translator, and if you don't already have 50 people in your inbox demanding a translation then shame on ALL OF US because this is glorious! And while Google Translate does have a certain charm (it translated "piper hun ut" as "she beeps") I'm curious to see how you'd put it in English.

Troquantary is referring to this post. In which Bella doesn't speak English.

Fun fact, you're the only one who's gone into my inbox to request this. I was so sad, had the translation half-written and everything, but I was too proud to beg. So thank you, Troquantary, for popping this ask.

As for the dictionary fuckups, sounds about right. I made a few typos, too, that made Google Translate suffer even more. (Such as managing to mix up "henne" (her) and "hendene" (hands), resulting in Aro patting Bella instead of clapping his hands. Poor Google.)

Also, there are a few cultural references and language things that would be lost in the translation, in an attempt to keep them I included notes clarifying things.

Some things, like Aro and Carlisle's very old man way of speaking, are easier said than done to translate, you'll have to bear with me there.

Additional notes are that I added a few things to this version, many of them because translating is hard, but a few because while translating I thought "oh you know what would be much funnier-" and then wrote that.

Alright, without further ado:

When Renée left Charlie she did not go to Florida, she went to Oslo. And she went all in to make her daughter a true Norwegian, hiring Norwegian nannies and making sure never to speak English around the child. Since transatlantic flights are expensive, little Bella Swan rarely got to visit her father, and as such she never did learn what should have been her native language.

She quickly forgot what English she did have in favor of Norwegian, with the exception of words like “Yes”, “No”, and “I’m Bella”.

The few trips she took to visit her father were all the more awkward than in canon since she couldn’t play with the Black kids. Let not the blame fall upon Charlie: he took Norwegian classes and speaks conversational Norwegian. He can’t speak to Renée, because her Norwenglish is incomprehensible even to Norwegians, but he can communicate with Bella.

Not that he’s had a lot of chances to do so.

Bella makes it to seventeen years old, she’s in second grade at Handels* and is a major outsider among the preps there, and then Renée marries a handsome skier**. Together they shall travel the continent all winter to participate in as many skiing races as they can, and in the summer they’ll take gigs at Hurtigruta to see the coast.

*“Handels” is the nickname for an Oslo high school infamous for its pupils being rich and beautiful blonds who are going to be CEOs when they grow up.

**Skiing as a sport is huge in Norway

***Hurtigruta is a famous ferry that travels across the Norwegian West coast

Bella, who sucks at skiing and is too young to work at Hurtigruten, takes the hint.

With dread in her stomach and dictionary in hand she goes to her father in America.

Where she doesn’t speak the language.

Faen.

Charlie gives her a car, and I wish this meta was set in the present because I could have joked about electric cars and the automat only driver’s license*, but Twilight is set in 2005 so I can’t. The car part proceeds without drama.

*An increasing number of Norwegian youth take the driver’s license for automatic cars only, and we’re the country in the world with the highest percentage of electric car purchases.

School is worse than in canon, because she is now a thousand times more sensational than if she was merely the new student. She is from another country! All of Forks keels over with excitement.

To make matters even worse, our girl doesn’t understand a word of what people are saying.

She is too awkward to let them know she doesn’t know English. It’d become a thing, and they might think she’s dumb. To be fair, it’s not good that she’s been through primary, secondary, and now a year and a half of high school and still sucks at English.

So she nods, smiles, mumbles “Hi, I’m Bella” to the new faces, and blushes heavily when anybody says anything.

People assume she’s shy. That’s a bit boring, but oh well.

She has her biology class with the redhead hottie she noticed during lunch. She watched him and his family, they were fascinatingly pretty, but she doesn’t know anything more about them. Sure would have been great if she could have asked the tiny girl (was it Jess?) about them.

Biology proceeds as in canon - Edward badly wants to eat the delicious girl, but fortunately doesn’t.

She runs into him in the office when he tries to switch to another biology lesson, but she has no idea what he’s saying so she only has the suspicion that this somehow concerns her. Which is still uncomfortable, but Bella is probably the problem here. The hottie surely can’t be.

He’s missing from school for a week, Bella finds that weird.

He returns, and to her great horror he starts talking to her.

“Hello”, he says.

Bella dies inside. He’s too handsome!

"I'm Edward Cullen," he continues, and ok, she got that. The hottie is called Edward, that’s good to know. She’s not sure she caught that last name, though, Köln?

He says something else, it’s gibberish to Bella even though she’s concentrating, and at the end there he says “Bella Swan”.

She gulps.

"I'm Bella Swan," she confirms and nods. That should be correct. God, she hopes it’s correct.

He smiles a crooked, boyish smile. She’s awed. She didn’t think it was possible to be so beautiful.

He says something else.

Bella didn’t catch it.

She blushes even harder, she hasn’t been more embarrassed in her life. Here he is, the most handsome guy in all the world, and she has nothing to say to him. Literally, they don’t speak the same language.

She should tell him.

It’s one thing to chicken out of telling the town she doesn’t speak English, but there’s something different about Edward Cullen. He deserves the truth.

But...

He’s the most beautiful person she has seen in her life. He is American, too, so the odds of him knowing Norwegian are microscopical. If he finds out she doesn’t understand a word he says he’ll stop talking to her, and selfish as she is she doesn’t want that.

So with a slightly guilty conscience (but not enough to fess up) she contributes to the conversation with enough words and smiles to pull through. "Yes", "No", "Thank you", and "That's nice".

He is surprised by several of these answers, but instead of giving her odd looks and losing interest he grows more invested in the conversation.

Class ends.

The next day the near accident happens, and he saves her. She is stunned - dear god, did he just pick up a whole car? After teleporting across the parking lot..?

Soon she’s in the ER, and more than a little bit stressed about that fact since she knows the Americans have a terrible healthcare system.

She hopes Charlie has an insurance.

An insanely beautiful man walks into the ER, and Bella is shocked. He is just as handsome as Edward and Edward’s lunch friends!

He introduces himself as Carlisle Cullen, and Bella can only assume this is someone’s older brother. Possibly related to the blonde girl.

He smiles at her, says something, and she answers, "I'm Bella Swan."

He frowns.

That must have been the wrong answer, then.

His hands return to investigating her scalp, and to her great surprise he switches to perfect Norwegian, "kjenner De* noe ubehag når jeg holder her?" Do you feel any discomfort when I touch here?

*De is the Norwegian polite pronoun for “you”. Du = thou = the French tu, and De = you = the French vous. These polite pronouns went out of use in the 1980’s, save for when addressing royal persons, and would be considered antiquated in 2005.

He hurries to add, "Norsk lærte jeg i... fjor sommer. Det var et nettkurs." I learned Norwegian… last year. Online class.

"Hvilket da?" Which one? Bella asks, because Charlie needs to hear about this. The doctor has beautiful, if slightly outdated, pronunciation.

The doctor’s smile turns uncertain. She gets the feeling there’s something he doesn’t want to say. "Husker ikke," I don’t remember, sier han etter en litt vel lang pause.

That’s a shame. And weird.

"De hadde hellet med Dem i dag, som ikke ble truffet av den bilen." You were lucky today, not getting hit by that car. he then says, noticeably changing the subject.

"Det var ikke hell, det var Edward," It wasn’t luck, it was Edward, she replies sharply.

The doctor definitely looks uncomfortable.

She continues, "Han krysset skolegården på et blunk, og plukket opp hele bilen. Jeg så det," He crossed the schoolyard in a moment, and picked up the whole car. I saw it,

The doctor laughs. "Om han kunne det hadde nok gymkarakteren hans vært meget bedre. Nei, frøken Swan*, jeg beklager å si at det høres ut som at De er litt omtåket. Det er helt normalt ved hjernerystelse." If he could do that, his PE grade would be a lot better. No, Miss Swan, I’m sorry to say you seem confused. That’s normal with concussions.

*Addressing a young woman as “frøken” is even more outdated than using polite pronouns.

Why does Bella get the feeling he’s lying?

She’s discharged.

We’ll jump ahead to her trip to La Push - that trip uneventful, since Jacob knows she doesn’t speak English. They stick their hands in their pockets and stare at the sea.

The next day she’s shanghaied to Port Angeles, because apparently she said “Yes” at the wrong time when talking to Jessica (Turns out Jess’s name was Jessica!) and accidentally said yes to a day trip to Port Angeles.

Like in canon she wanders away from the others, and as in canon she is nearly gang raped. And again as in canon she is saved at the last moment by Edward.

He buys her dinner, and she can’t believe her own luck- and misfortune. A date with the most handsome guy on the planet (hence the luck) and she can’t say a word to him (hence the misfortune)!

He says things to her, lends her his jacket, and really this is it for Bella, she’s peaked, life can’t get better than this.

(That’s a lie, it would be better if she spoke English.)

He’s so amazing.

She’s gotten pretty good at navigating conversations with him, so she nods and aha’s her way through.

In his car on the way home the tone takes a more serious turn.

He asks her about something, and it’s a serious question, that much she’s gathered. She answers in the confirmative.

He is silent.

Did she say anything wrong?

(Edward, on his end, just asked if she knows what he is. She said yes, so calmly, not even a trace of fear in her.)

A few days later he takes her out on a walk in the woods.

He shows her a meadow in the woods, and when he steps into it he lights up in the sunlight.

Bella is in shock.

She knew there was something different about him, but- holy cow. This guy isn’t human.

Is she dating a god?

She stumbles into the clearing after him, and they spend a day together where he says things, and she can barely hear any of it (nevermind understand it) because she’s so distracted by how pretty he is.

The next day he takes her to a house in the middle of nowhere. She doesn’t want to guess that this can be where he lives. Surely gods don’t live in houses?

He shows her inside the house, and introduces her for Dr. Cullen and a lady with a name she doesn’t catch.

Bit weird that these two are acting like a couple of parents, they’re far too young and divine for that.

Edward shows her around in an old-fashioned office, and she doesn’t know what to make of i when she sees a painting of Carlisle. Edward launches into a long story when he sees her watching it, unfortunately she doesn’t catch any dates or artist names. At one point she heard the word “suicide”, though, and that’s not good.

She doesn’t get much out of the story.

The baseball game doesn’t happen because Bella didn’t pick up on what Edward wanted and didn’t realize she was being invited to a thing. They spend the afternoon watching a movie instead.

The relationship continues, impeded slightly by communication problems, but she’s mostly able to cover those up.

Until her birthday comes around.

She gets a papercut.

Jasper lunges at her. Edward throws her into a glass table, and then everyone is leaving.

Carlisle is kind enough to switch to Norwegian when he’s stitching up her arm, perhaps remembering the last time she was his patient. "Jasper har ikke vært på dietten vår så veldig lenge." Jasper hasn’t been on our diet for very long.

"Diett?"she asks. She’s never seen Edward eat anything. She wasn’t clear on what the Cullens ate, honestly she thought they were above such things. She was thinking maybe photosynthesis. The knowledge that they apparently eat food astounds her, but diets?

"Dyreblod istedenfor menneskeblod," Animal blood in stead of human blood, Carlisle clarifies.

Whachasay?

Carlisle gives a slight smile. “Jaspers liv som vampyr fikk en brutal start." Jasper’s life as a vampire got off to a brutal start.

...

Vampire?!

Bella’s missed something here.

Oh dear lord, oh fy faen, she has missed something.

“Åja”, uh huh, is all she can say, and suddenly she’s very aware of the fact that she’s sitting there with a bleeding arm.

And Carlisle.

Who is a vampire.

Over the course of the following conversation Bella makes a host of discoveries.

Edward has been a vampire this whole time, and he’s a telepathic vampire. Whether Bella should be a vampire too or not has been a matter of hot debate, but due to religious reasons Edward doesn’t want that.

Carlisle also brings up how Edward died of the Spanish flu.

"Jeg var under den oppfatning at Edward fortalte deg bakhistorien min?" I was under the impression Edward told you my back story? Carlisle asks at one point, and Bella just has to ask very nicely if he’d be so kind as to repeat it.

Turns out the guy is nearly four hundred years old.

Jaha.

Jahahaha jaa ha.

That’s… a lot.

She wanders out of the house in shock, and hardly notices Edward’s strange behavior over the next couple of days.

One day he picks her up at school, and takes her behind the house.

That works out.

He’s a vampire, but he never hurt her. He is endlessly beautiful, perhaps easier to love now that she knows he’s not a god. He’s her Edward, and that’s suddenly easier now that she knows.

They can still be together.

But now that she knows this about him, it’s about time he knows something about her as well.

It’s time to finally be honest with him.

So when he opens his mouth, she opens her mouth as well, but she doesn’t get any further than to “Edward-” before he launches into a monologue.

She’ll have to wait until he’s done before saying her piece. It’s a bit embarrassing, but it doesn’t seem like he intends to stop talking anyway.

And what he’s saying seems to be serious, so it’s probably best to let him finish.

Edward concludes his monologue by kissing her forehead. Then he disappears.

Where did he go?

A big unsure, Bella goes back to the house. She’ll just have to wait until he gets back.

She doesn’t know what to think when Charlie returns from work and tells her the Cullens have all left.

Oh, god.

Edward must have found out she doesn’t speak English.

She made a mockery of him.

He has every right to leave.

Knowing this doesn’t make it any easier to live with.

Bella sinks into a depression.

The hallucinations begin, as in canon, though Hallusinward speaks Norwegian. Thank god for small mercies.

The friendship with Jacob (dictionary in hand) blooms, as someone has to help her see those hallucinations.

The cliff diving happens, and Alice shows up. Bella’s not sure what this is about, but she has gotten good enough at English to know that something bad happened, and Alice wants them to do something.

She’s a bit surprised to find herself on a plane to Italy, though.

Alice tells her to “Run to Edward” and ok, she got that, actually.

So she saves Edward.

After that she’s taken into the sewer, which turns out to house dozens of vampires.

Bella, Edward, and Alice are received in some kind of hall, where an unusual vampire has quite a bit to say. She understands some of what he’s saying, at least the part about “la tua cantante”. She knows a bit about Italian, see, so she knows that he’s talking about a song now.

She wishes she knew the context.

At one point he takes her hand, and appears fascinated by it. She wonders if he’s a palmreader. Not very vampirey, but what does she know.

He asks her a question.

"Yes," she says.

Saying yes has gotten her this far, after all.

But when he lights up and claps his hands together, and Edward and Alice stare at her in shock and betrayal, she knows she must have said the wrong thing.

The two are dismissed from the room before Bella can do or say anything, she’s just listening to Edward make a racket outside in the hallway.

Not good.

The unusual vampire brings her further down in his sewer palace to a basement, and she is given comfortable clothes to wear.

This is getting terrifying.

The vampire leans towards her - and she chickens out.

"Jeg snakker ikke engelsk!" she squeaks. "Non habla ingles!" I don’t speak English.

Han stanser, og ser forvirret ut. "Que- Hva behager*?" I beg your pardon? spør han etter et øyeblikk.

*A very formal, and slightly outdated (you can use it, but people will think you’re putting on airs. And they will be right) way of saying “excuse me?”

Sobbing, Bella tells him the whole story, from how she didn’t want to be the weird kid in school to how she’s now somehow in Italy without knowing why nor what she just agreed to.

When she’s done the vampire starts laughing.

"Dette forklarer jo en hel del," This explains quite a bit, ler han. "Men, kjære Bella, jeg er redd det ikke endrer noe." But, my dear Bella, I’m afraid it changes nothing.

He tells her that she has agreed to serve him and his army of undead warriors into eternity.

Well fuck.

"Du skal få slippe det, når du ikke visste hva du samtykket til - men skjebnen din forblir den samme. Loven er loven." You’re released from that promise, as you didn’t know what you agreed to - but your fate remains the same. The law is the law.

After a moment of silence, during which she looks terrified, he hurries to add, "Vi har en lov. Du må bli en av oss." We have a law. You must become one of us.

A law that Bella Swan has to become a vampire?

People are finally speaking Norwegian, and Bella is still lost. And it’s too embarrassing to keep pestering this poor, polite man with questions.

So she nods.

He gives her a glittering smile, and bites her.

When she wakes, Aro offers her an English course. A language course that, naturally, leads to her staying in Volterra. Why not learn a few more languages while we’re at it, dearest Bella?

Some time later Edward breaks into Volterra to save his Rapunzel, only to barely recognize her now that she’s a vampire who says things. Lots of things, she talks all the time now. WHAT DID ARO DO TO HER.

Too mortified to admit that she never spoke English, Bella claims she’s been brainwashed.

Aro is having too much fun to correct her, and the whole sad affair sets off a regrettable flood of rumors.

#troquantary #norwegian things #bella swan #twilight #twilight meta #twilight renaissance #evighetens kyss #evighetens kyss meta #evighetens kyss renessanse

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homosexual-having-tea · 3 years

Text

Cold

Chapter One, 1234 words

Summary: Prince Asmund meets an enchanting stranger at a party and instantly becomes smitten (fic under the cut)

Honey-golden light saturated the room in its warm glow. Upbeat fiddle music filled the air, partygoers laughing and chattering above the swirling notes. Asmund smiled from the side of the grand hall, waving at his friends who drunkenly called to him from the dancefloor. He chuckled softly to himself as one of them stumbled over their own feet and landed with their face in a plate of food. Asmund shook his head amusedly, leaning back against the wall as he took a drink of his ale. The cold burn lingered on his tongue for a moment before extinguishing itself.

A crowd had begun to converge on the other end of the hall, raucous cheers and claps occasionally rising from the group. Asmund craned his neck to see what the commotion was all about, but only caught a brief glance of grinning faces and sloshing drinks. Pushing off from the wall, he walked into the dancefloor, making his way through a lump of giggling drunk villagers unsuccessfully attempting to dance.

As he made his way closer to the crowd, the pace of the strings sped up. Asmund smiled, recognizing it as a popular drinking song he’d heard dozens of times before at parties identical to his own. Over the hum of the fiddle, a voice like velvet belted out the lyrics. The prince stopped in his tracks, his copper eyes widening. The voice was ethereal. The most enchanting, beautiful, welcoming he’d heard in his life, even if they were singing a bar song. It reminded him of stars, of sitting on his windowsill with his back to the fire, watching stars glimmer far away in the heavens.

Men traner danser og fossene stanser

når hun synger, hun synger “kom hjem”

Asmund tapped a lady-in-waiting’s shoulder as the voice continued on singing, the crowd joining on the chorus with cheerful clapping. She turned around, half-shouting over the din, “Yes, Your Highness?”

Asmund caught a brief glimpse of soft, curly black hair from behind the lady-in-waiting. Shaking his head almost imperceptibly to focus, he looked back at the woman.

“Do you know who it is singing?” he asked, feeling ever so slightly self-conscious for his question. Her smile grew and she shrugged loosely.

“I’ve never seen him before, Your Grace, but he’s got quite the voice, you know.”

The prince nodded, staring past the servant as he tried to catch sight of the singer once again. The crowd had obscured him from Asmund’s view but he was determined to meet the owner of the most gorgeous voice in the kingdom. An absent-minded thanks passed his lips as he maneuvered past dozens of people and through the circle surrounding the singer.

The song slowed as it reached its end, the instruments fading to a whisper as the voice carried the last verse.

I stormsvarte fjell, jeg vandrer alene

Over isbreen tar jeg meg frem

I eplehagen står møyen den vene

og synger “når kommer du hjem?”

He broke through the crowd of people, and his breath flew from his chest in an instant. Ringed by dozens of guests stood the most stunning person Asmund had ever seen. The whole of the party seemed to fade away as he watched the man finish his song. He turned, golden and green robes fluttering around his legs, facing Asmund with a smile that made it seem like he’d been there waiting just for the prince to arrive.

The first coherent thought was that the singer’s eyes were unearthly, in a fascinatingly beautiful way. They seemed to glow with a soft green fire, and Asmund couldn’t make himself look away. Did the man even know how easily he’d captured the prince’s attention?

He seems to have some idea, a voice whispered to him. His eyes hadn’t moved from Asmund’s for more than a millisecond, and a teasing smirk had spread across his lips. Still singing along to the slowed music, he approached Asmund. The prince’s face went warm as the enchanting stranger leaned in. It could have been a glass too many of ale, but he could have sworn the man’s hand glowed the same beautiful emerald as his eyes as he reached out. His singing dipped as he tilted his head closer to Asmund’s.

“You had this stuck in your hair, dearest one,” he whispered with the slightest slur to his voice, holding out a shimmering kusymre flower that seemed to float barely above the palm of his hand. Asmund’s face flushed pink as he reached out to take the flower from the black-haired man. It made his fingers go pleasantly numb as he held it appreciatively.

Breaking him from his stupor, the crowd applauded uproariously around them. He’d completely forgotten people and the world itself existed outside of the beautiful stranger. The man in question clumsily bowed and waved to the other guests with a wide smile plastered on his face.

Asmund dazedly walked away from the group. “Air… I need some fresh air,” he announced quietly to no one in particular. He stumbled over the threshold to the balcony, his eyes fixated on the glimmering flower the stranger had seemed to summon out of thin air for him. The cold air brushed his skin as he pressed his palms against the cool stone of the banister.

“Didn’t scare you off, did I, dearest?” a familiar soft voice asked. Asmund’s head snapped around to see the stranger. He opened his mouth to reply, but nothing came out. In the silver moonlight, the man looked even more magical, the inviting green glow even more evident in the dim light.

Finally summoning words to his tongue, Asmund replied in a confident voice that surprised him. “Not at all. Just needed to catch my breath,” he smiled at the man. “Would you care to join me?”

“I’d love to, darling,” he grinned back, leaning his back against the railing, tilting his head curiously at the prince. Something glittered in the depths of his eyes as he leaned on his elbow closer to Asmund. “You know, I never did happen to catch your name.”

Asmund subconsciously tucked a stray gold curl behind his ear, bringing his eyes up to meet the others’ despite the flush still tinting his cheeks. “I’m Prince Asmund. May I ask yours?”

He grinned widely, leaning in close to Asmund once again, this time picking up the flower and gently tucking it into the curl. His fingers gently brushed Asmund’s cheek, leaving it humming and warm. “Lovely name. You may call me Loki.”

Had he been less flustered, there were dozens of better responses to being introduced to the prettiest person he’d ever met. However, as he was very flustered, Asmund blurted, “What, like the god?” Loki tilted his head back and laughed as Asmund pressed the cool of his palm into his forehead in embarrassment. “I didn’t mean to say that…”

Loki laughed, turning his head to the side with a playful wink. “It’s exactly like the god, more than you’d think.” Asmund mumbled something into his hands. “What was that, dear?”

“Can we dance?” he repeated, still muffled by his hand. “I think I’d very much like to dance with you.”

Loki offered him an arm, grinning charmingly and slightly drunkenly to the brown-eyed prince. “I think I’d love to dance with you, too, provided I can see you again.”

Asmund couldn’t have wanted anything more.

#loki #bi loki #giving loki a boyfriend #loki x male oc #loki x asmund #fanfic

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maddestzoomer · 4 years

Text

beautiful sunrises

request from anon - Hi! Can I please request a oneshot Robin x fem! reader where robin loves sunrises and the reader doesn't? And maybe like, could you make it so Robin comes out to the reader as having a crush on her? Just something crazy soft. Thanks!

summary - robin wakes the reader up so the two of them can experience a beautiful sunrise together. in doing so, the two of them have a needed conversation.

warnings - there’s some slight referenced homophobia and some slight cursing, but other than that, this is just a super soft story!

word count - 1.5k

a.n. - i really enjoyed writing this story, and i hope whoever requested this enjoys reading it! let me know your thoughts on this story, if you have any :)

Robin had always loved sunrises. That's nice, but you loved to sleep. Plus, to you, they looked the same every day anyways.

The two of you had shared a room in an uncomfortably small apartment. You have the bed, and Robin has a shitty-blow up mattress- for now, at least. Your grandmother owned the apartment, and allowed for you the two of you to live there.

She had a house of her own to stay in; one you had always found fascinatingly beautiful thanks to its Victorian style and dark color scheme.

Robin had recently been kicked out of her mother's home for reasons she absolutely refused to say- causing her to show up at your door one night with puffy eyes, a red nose, and a bag of clothes. You, of course, immediately welcomed her with open arms.

The two of you had only lived together for a week so far, and if you're being completely honest with yourself, you loved having her around. She could cook, she had an amazing taste in tunes, and she somehow enjoyed cleaning. Not only that, but she never failed to make you smile.

The only problem was those goddamn sunrises.

"C'mon, Y/N, it's beautiful out!" Robin said, pulling back the dark curtains that kept your room comfortably safe from the brightness outside. "I promise, it's totally worth looking at."

You softly groaned in response, turning over slowly.

Even though your head ached from whatever stupid thing you'd done the night before, even though your blankets were the softest things you'd ever felt over your eyes, you looked up from your comfortable mountain of pillows and out of the window she held open for you.

"C'monnnn, get up, Sleeping Beauty." Robin said with a beautifully bright smile. The fact anyone could manage to be so beautiful this early in the morning simply astounded you.

Playfully, you roll your eyes. Robin had picked up the habit of calling you 'Sleeping Beauty', a nickname you surprisingly didn't hate. In fact, the first time she called you Sleeping Beauty, a soft blush dusted your cheeks and your stomach twisted in knots.

"I made coffee with cinnamon, just the way you like." She said, now closing the curtain. "Come drink a cup outside with me."

You sighed deeply, throwing your blanket from your body before swinging your legs over the side of your bed. Yawning, you rub your eyes.

"What time is it even anyway?" You question, standing up. Your feet were greeted with cold wooden floors, flooring that never failed to send a shiver up your spine.

"6:02." Robin replied, running a hand through her hair. If you had it your way, you'd get another solid three hours before even contemplating getting up. But there was something special about Robin, something that made you want to get up and just be with her.

"You're not gonna regret this." She said with a smile before leaving the room, likely to go slip on some shoes.

Once alone, you stretched and threw on a Hawkins High sweater-shirt, then slipping on a pair of black flip-flops.

You walked from your room, each step being announced by your flip-flop making a soft smacking sound on your heel.

There Robin stood, two cups of coffee in her hand and a small smirk pulling at her lips.

You smiled a small moment, running a hand through your locks. "You never fail to amaze." You said as you took your cup from her. Robin could make an absolutely amazing cup of coffee, and she knew it.

"Why, thank you." Robin chirped, opening the door for the two of you to walk out of.

Thankfully, your apartment was settled on the first floor, which meant you didn't have to walk up and down stairs every day to get home.

Robin led the way, heading towards the back door.

There's something so strange about the fact you now have Robin living with you. Just a week ago, the summer was gearing up to be hot, boring, and lonely.

Now, while it may still be hot, it definitely won't be boring or lonely. And you were thankful for that- even if you didn't know how to express it.

Soon, the two of you walk outside, being greeted with a warm breeze that hugged your skin and messed your hair.

You took a seat on the stairs, Robin joining next to you.

The both of you remained silent as you gazed up at the sky.

It truly was stunning. Vibrantly pink and orange clouds were visible, with a beautiful fluffiness you almost couldn't comprehend. The sun itself was only just beginning to make an appearence from behind the clouds, allowing for hazy rays of pure shine to jet out in seemingly random pockets of beauty.

The air was sweet now with the smell of lilacs and grass, making lovlieness swirl around in your lungs and mind.

Robin, however, wasn't looking at the sunrise. She couldn't help from staring at you- at the way your eyes were glossed over with vibrant pinks and oranges, at the way your lips parted slightly in awe of what was before you, at the way your hair was an absolutely gorgeous mess.- and you noticed this.

Looking to her with a small smile, you raise an eyebrow. "I thought the whole reason we came out here was to watch the sun rise."

"Yeah..." But I'm watching something even more beautiful than any sunrise I've ever seen before, Robin thought. "But I just like seeing your reaction. It's cute." She said. Fuck- was adding the word 'cute' too much? Fuck.

Softly, you blush, looking away and down to your cup of coffee. Cute. A simple word, one you never paid much mind to. You had been called cute before. In fact, you used to dislike the word 'cute' because of how childish it sounded. But now- due to it falling from her lips- it couldn't help from buzzing around your in mind.

"Umm... Y/N?" Robin softly asked. She noticed the blush on your cheeks, and felt the need to say something. She looked to the sky, seeing more soft pastel pinks and oranges than before. Already, she felt a lump growing in her throat.

"Hmm?" You softly hummed, looking over to her. Her change of tone was somewhat concerning. It felt like the tone people took up when they had something bad to say.

"I uhh... I wanted to tell you why my mom kicked me out." She said. She still wouldn't look at you, which made anxiety begin to brew in the pit of your stomach. Why wouldn't she look at you? Why was her voice in that tone? Why was her freckled skin growing pale?

"Oh? Alright." You said with a small smile. "But umm, Rob, you don't have to. Like- not unless you're absolutely sure you want to."

Your words of comfort drew a small, unsure smile to Robin's lips. Would you hate her after this? Fuck...

"Well, Y/N..." She took a deep breath in, one that made her chest dramatically rise and fall. "I was writing a letter for someone really special to me that just spoke about how much I like them and how beautiful and smart and funny I think they are-" She said quietly, cutting herself off from rambling. She could feel her pulse pumping under her skin- in the back of her throat.

You tried your best not to frown, not to express the million questions you had swarming around your brain. Who was this someone? You weren't jealous- no. You weren't about to even let yourself think you were jealous... But still, envy found a way to grown tight vines around your mind.

Robin's jaw clenched as her gaze dropped from the sky and to the uncut flowing grass below. "My mom found the letter and..." She wet her lips "and she made me tell her who it was about." She murmured softly. Her grip on her mug was growing considerably tighter.

She went silent for a few moments.

"It was about you, Y/N." She finally choked out. "I-It was about you."

You frowned in confusion, along with a bit of shock. "Me?" You repeated. Maybe you're just misunderstanding what she's saying-

Robin brought her dark blue eyes to your own and nodded. "I like you. I like you a lot." She said softly. Her insides were squirming. God- what was the expression you had on your face? Horror? Disgust? Hatred?

A smile pulled to your lips, one that absolutely radiant- one that took Robin's breath away for a moment. There wasn't anything except for absolute joy and... maybe even love in your eyes.

Taking her hand into your own, you gave it a gentle squeeze.

"I like you too, Robin."

#robin x reader #robin buckley x reader #robin x fem!reader #robin buckley x you #stranger things #my writing #my concept #thanks for the request!#maya hawke #maya hawke x reader

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wizzypiehigh9 · 3 years

Text

Title: Stunned

Words: 5,010

Rating: T; Just in Case but really is G rated

Fandom: Star Trek: The Original Series

Characters: [Spock and Christine. [Pairing]]

Summary: Spock makes a ... Stunning discovery.

-————————————————————————

Chapter 1: Irrationality

Summary:

At this rate he would be mediating for a week straight. Oh Surak...

-————————————————————————

'Stunned'

No, this word, could not describe the microscopic touch of feelings that were compassing him. For it edged on his brief subconscious fore thoughts.

Yes... there were 'feelings.'

Unfortunately.

The illogical urging to go over and ask for a dance would not cease to repeat in his mind. For he had not danced with anyone else that evening and nor would he be asked to do so.

Dancing was a waste of caloric energy.

Curiosity.

The at whim notions that plagued the minds of many of his crew members were foreign to him. No reasoning could account for his actions in such a manner as this.

Regaining control was a necessity. It was in fact a must.

A mus-

The scene unfolding on the opposing side of the room- it paused his process. Crew members. The diplomatic rehearsal. The topic at hand. Members of the crew were waiting in an unbecoming line just to have a dance with her.

Control slipped. Something webbed through his mind. It was familiar. Tendrils dug within deeper resonating. Was this not akin to frustration... perhaps even jealously?

Illogical.

Blinking in rapid succession; there, an attempt to draw his mind at the center of the conversation was made. This irrational behavior will stop. It would be regrettable for anyone to notice his lapse in character; lest, the good Doctor would be becoming involved in his 'feelings.' Which, at the most the Doctor was already too at far invested in his 'feelings' -or the lack there of- for the well being of the crew, and or the sanity of all Vulcan's who beheld McCoy.

For Vulcan's do not possess 'emotions'.

Although.

Contradictory to that philosophy, here he was experiencing the unfamiliar sensation. Or in simplicity, an emotion. A emotion he couldn't seem to describe to a proper assessment. Not that he could describe or define any feeling that overwhelmed him at anytime to a point of exact reference. This in contrary, was new.

Fascinatingly enough, the sensation was refreshing. One might describe it as- No. Stop.

Exhale.

He was a Vulcan. Meaningless deductions were something he would not give in to.

The 'human' side -many, such as the Doctor, tried to examine in too close of parameters- was causing undue distress. Extra meditative time would be necessary. Tonight.

The few mental guards settling in to place were ripped to a metaphorical shred. A certain name was mentioned multiple times, and the deep realm of thought that ensnared his mind drifted away.

"Chris, can tell you more about- Mister Spock- Sir, are you okay?"

Stiffing.

"Quite alright. Apologies."

He had stopped listening. Miss Harper had been detailing the current findings on the most recent lab experiment. How regrettable.

"Momentarily I was distracted. Please do go on. What about Miss... Christine?"

A simple nod is all that it takes before she's looking in the direction just moments before he had been unknowingly gazing out at.

If anything was taken note of as to where his momentary lack of attention could have been it was not made known. The crew in majority were either respectful of his boundaries or were too frightened to be anything but stoic. Nonetheless, being caught in the act of staring out at the eloquent Christine would do no good towards his Vulcan appearance.

Miss Harper took a sip of her tea before facing himself once more.

Oh.

'Eloquent'.

This night was indeed peculiar.

"Well. Sir, with all due respect if you are curious as to the statistics, Chris would be better suited at relaying the information than I could. Especially so, seeing as she is partly overseeing this particular project."

"Overseeing the project?"

"Didn't you know?"

Raising an obligated eyebrow, "If I had known Miss Harper, I would not have reinstated your statement as a question."

Watching as a snort accompanied with it a smile, there was the usual lack of understanding as to why this situation was so humorous. Then again, that did tend to be what followed along in the guidelines of human nature, or as so of what he had learned. It would be illogical to try and figure out human nature since human nature in of itself was so irrational.

Once Miss Harper regained her composure a smile edged her face, "Well, what I had been saying... Chris can tell you more about the current labs than I can. I've told you everything that I know about this specific experiment. Its not unusual for her to tap in on a lot of experiments. Again, nothing unusual, although it is definitely her workaholic tendencies on her part. That can be concerning at times, but shes rather helpful. Just uh, please be discreet about the 'overseer' nickname she would be actually quite embarrassed rather than flattered."

"I shall be of discretion. Nonetheless," A pause.

A snarl forcibly was stopped as another ensign asked Christine for a dance.

Control was needed, and now.

Breathing, it was reminded to himself that Christine was permitted to do whatever she willed, within the limits of regulations of course. There was nothing he could do about it, then again not that he was to. Then, perhaps violation could be found in the current act she was undertaking. That way- Blinking he willed the rapid pace of his mind to cease.

Taking a word from Leonard, 'Ridiculous'.

"It seems that Chris- Miss Chapel, " He slightly paused correcting himself, "...is far to busy in her other endeavors to stop and have a 'chat' about th-"

"If its 'chatting' your after Mr. Spock I- never mind." Miss Harper interrupted herself mid-sentence looking away. A red flush rose upon her cheeks.

Was this what humans referred to as blushing? Miss Harpers face did now hold a darker hue from a rush of blood to her cheeks.

"Miss Harper I am indeed curious as to what you have to say?"

"Its nothing, its much too,-" Miss Harper paused seeming to try and find the correct words, "...callous and an embarrassing of a thing for me to say. Especially to you. And especially considering since your a higher ranking officer."

Feigning innocence, "As for embarrassment Miss Harper, do I need to remind you that is an emotion I am not familiar with. Also, for being a 'higher ranking officer' it is known as fact that it has never impeded you to, as one might say," Borrowing a commonly used human expression, " 'speak your mind' before."

After a pause.

"Fine then." Miss Harper muttered hesitantly with what she was about to say. Could it really be so sensitive in nature?

"If you would like me to be quite frank, I will just say this once." He watched as she paused continuing. "In order to chat or discuss the lab experiment, just simply ask her for a dance. How hard could that be?"

"A dance?" He inquired ignoring whom ever this 'Frank' was.

"Yes a dance!" Miss Harper exclaimed now sounding almost... was it exasperated? Was there something that he was failing to grasp in her meaning?

"Please tell me you know how to dance Sir?"

Nodding, "Yes, Miss Harper. I do know the Terran act of 'dancing'. I was quite endowed at a young age from the insistence of my Mother."

"Well? Then whats stopping you? She's there -available might I add- you have two feet, she has two feet-"

Slightly tenting his brows, "I have witnessed the act of Edosian's dancing, to say that the art of dance is effected by the amount of ones feet Miss Ha-"

"It was a expression."

"What I'm trying to say -and obviously failing at- is that if Chris had to choose to dance with any person out of this whole ship, or even the whole galaxy for that matter she would rather dance with you-" A stutter resonated,"-to uhh... of- uh OF course to talk about science of course. Particularly Chemistry..." Miss Harper adds lowering her voice at the end giving a slight eyebrow waggle.

What was that look in the ensigns eyes? Or eyebrows for that matter? It was the same look Jim would give when he wasn't fully understanding a situation at hand. Especially a situation in the emotional aspect.

"I shall give it due consideration." He pauses. "In what your proposing, how does one approach her with-"

"Hey Lousie!" Someone called over to Miss Harper.

"Huh? Oh! I'm sorry I have to go. I promised-" Miss Harper suddenly shot a look between himself and the young man hurriedly.

"It is alright Miss Harper. Go on ahead."

"Ok then." She nodded obviously with nervousness. "Have a good evening Mr. Spock. Also, if you want my advice... Don't wait too long." Miss Harper waved fluttering her fingers before taking off towards the young man.

Ah, that was her fiancee was it not? What exactly had Miss Harper meant to convey when she said, 'Don't wait too long?' There was no time limits on the lab report he had read. Hmm, perhaps after meditation he should endeavor to read the reports again.

'Fiancee'

That word resonated in his mind in that moment. Why was that ideal so prevalent as of the moment? He was more accustomed to the term 'betrothed'. The term 'fiancee' should hold no significance.

Ah. Had not Christine lost her own fiancee as of misfortune recent occurrences? Perhaps that is why she is allowing herself the pleasure of dancing. For he had never seen her participate in such an act until now. Of course, not that he had been observing her at such functions...

Christine did seem to be enjoying herself if her wide smile was anything to go by. The dress she wore was a light chiffon yellow that was a bit modest compared to anyone else. Considering at how much the dress did cling to her sides it was a bit wary at how many suitors had asked for a dance placing their hand on her sides. The very place he would have his own hand to be placed if he were to ask her the same. Now having blood rush to his own face at such thoughts he looked away from Christi- Miss Chapel.

At this rate he would be mediating for a week straight. Oh Surak...

Shaking his head he chided himself. For what reason was all this important? Right now, an updated report for the most recent project was necessary.

Perhaps something to drink would help to settle his raging thoughts.

Yes, something to drink indeed. Also, some thought on how to approach Christine without imposing upon her and her would be then partner would be necessary.

Very necessary for someone else approached Christine.

-————————————————————————

Chapter 2: The 'Punch' Effect

Summary:

"I assure you Christine. I am fine. Simply... as one might refer to, 'Lost in thought.'"

"Let me be the judge of that." Christine placed the tricorder on the table as she rummaged in her purse. "And I..." She paused briefly looking akin to McCoy when he could not find something in his 'organized' medical stockroom. "- would say lost in 'space'. If... you understand my joke." she mummers.

"I would hope not."

-————————————————————————

Holding his paper cup filled with the red-sugary substance humans and many other Federation species referred to as 'Punch', Christine had just now sat down.

Perhaps, this was the opportunity?

With another sip, the obviously spiked beverage was deposited the into a nearby trash receptacle with a slosh. Mr. Scotts doing no doubt.

Although not inebriating, it did seem to sit pleasantly with his senses. Perhaps an outing with the Captain and Good Doctor the next time the situation arose would not be so easily detested.

Brushing off his sleeve, a rather peculiar sense of needed to groom his appearance entered into his mind.

Strange.

Passing his fingers underneath the rim of his undershirt collar he gave it a slight tug. It was rather... warm.

Typically, for cold blooded species the Enterprise made a rather chilly climate.

Peculiar. Maybe a trip to Sickbay should be on his schedule for this evening-

"THat BLAsTed CwreMan I wOuldv- Uh I reckon I- Well, I Wou-mph-" McCoy choked with a sway to the side. "...cattywampus here."

Instinctively he reached out, nevertheless the Captain had already nervously wrapped his arms, shaky arms, across Lens shoulders re-righting.

"Now. Now. Lets get you back to your cabin. I think w- you've had enough of that 'punch'."

"I was FixEn Ta LEave Jimmie-Boy-So IF yA CoulD Be So..." A pause with a fumble. "...kind Ta POint me in Da dIrection- And Bwess Yer HEArt, But I AinT DrinKen THat... Sho nuff, I DraWk RomUlan Al-MPgh" A hand slapped over McCoy's face as the Captain gave a very ... 'red alert concerned' type look.

"Uh- hey Spock. Good ta see ya enjoying yourself this evening... uh we better skedaddle..."

Perhaps not this evening... or the next would he make a trip to sickbay- considering how Leonard's Hangovers were the following day.

As the Captain Led the flailing and stumbling McCoy to the exit he reciprocated with a nod.

"JWIm.. My EYEBalls Are Floatn'..."

"Indeed Captain, go... 'skedaddle'."

The Captain hurries his pace dragging along with him a now very pale McCoy.

Making his way on over to the table that seated Christine, immediate attention was garnished. It sent a delicious tingle down his spine at the way her eyes glazed his way in a surprised human fashion.

Delicious?

A tingle?

Fascinating.

"Miss Chapel."

"Hello Mister Spock."

Another ensign deemed appropriate to come forwards.

...

Popular did she seem to be this evening. Much to his own misfortune. For discussing the scientific results of course...

"Christy? You wanna dance? McCoy says ya haff been dancing with da whole crew tonight!"

An illogically breathless grin was followed by a groan. "I sure feel like I have. Rain check Benny? I'll dance with ya some other time. I would like to rest my feet a few."

"Aye! Sure ah thing love. I'll go see if Uhura wants ta dance."

"You can try if you can pry her off Scotty that is. That seems to be the only Scotsman she has her eye on if you know what I mean." A wink followed.

Waiting as lieutenant Bennett and Christine discussed the topic of dancing he took note on Christine's appearance. For an undetermined reason, her appearance was to be due his analyzation.

Golden hair tossed in a loose curled topping upon her head. Close, that he could almost... reach out and... touch. Thoughts went ahead forward determining the likelihood of 98.79 to 100 of a chance of her hair being soft. Lashes sitting upon her cheeks fluttered as she spoke. Her cheeks tinged with a pink hue in a contrast to his own.

There was no doubt. She was lovel-

"-ck? Mister Spock? Are you-"

Startled, he spoke with a light clearing of his throat. "Yes. Very... indeed so."

He... What happened?

There was a peculiar sensation rising in his sternum.

This answer -which was presumed to be significant enough- caused a chain reaction of Christine standing, swiveling the opposite chair on the table outwards and him being instructed to sit down.

He sat.

Only because he himself wanted to do so.

Not because his legs trembled when Christine approached upon his space. Not because something pounded against his side. And absolutely, definitively not because she was, Too close. Gazing, Christine whirled a tricorder over his form. It whirled with a trill in the chaotic mess his mind now metaphorically swam in. So this is what many crew mates have referred to as her 'Nurse Mode'.

In loss of any other words, What was happening?

"I assure you Christine. I am fine. Simply... as one might refer to, 'Lost in thought.'"

"I would hope not."

"It wouldn't be the first time the Enterprise has been lost."

"Indeed."

No further comment engaged, he proceeding to persuade once more.

Raising an eyebrow, "I am quite al-"

"Here."

Having a tablet handed to him, he hesitated before glancing up for an answer.

"There. Now, my only prescription is rest, water and a bit of food. That is a vitamin C tablet. It will help to perk you up a bit. Also, stopping the haze." Christine smiles demonstrated a wave with wiggling fingers over his eyes. Not that it was the most accurate description but it defined it enough.

"Let me get you some water."

As Christine left his view, the referred to 'haze' stopped.

How, interesting.

Taking the tablet, he promptly swallowed it.

It was sweet.

The haze returned quickly along with the bottle of water now sitting on the table accompanying with the one who bought it.

For politeness sakes he uncapped the bottle taking a sip.

"Thank you." He slighted nodded.

Christine simply tilted her head sitting in the chair across the table.

"Feeling... better?"

"I am, and have been, fine."

Christine's face broke into a small smile. Wait, something- he noticed something. Something very insignificant. It was different. Her smile. It was different than the one that had broke upon her face when lieutenant Bennett and her had greeted one another. The realization almost caused him to choke. These... illogical deductions were full of fallacies and illogical... sensations.

Why his heart rate seemed to be elevated, and his palms sweaty he could not find an answer to. Nor did he want to know.

He took another sip of water stiffening his back.

"Well, um, I sure feel like I've danced with the whole entire ship." Christine said leaning against the table with a slight giggle. As her head was held tightly within the palms of both hands she did not seem to look at him. She was twitching her fingers deliberately in a typical anxious fashion.

Ah, perhaps... he was not the only one feeling strange this evening. Or she was simply curious as to his own intentions?

For now, surely was a good time to ask about the lab experiment?

"Not the 'whole entire ship' Miss Chapel."

Standing subconsciously, he took a glance at the time as he placed the bottle down on the table gingerly. The informal dance was ending in approximately 42 minutes. This was simply the polite thing to do, was it not? Miss. Harper had suggested it.

Extending a arm towards Miss Chap- Christine Christine, his tolerance for emotional sensations were reaching its limitations. Even then he could not seem to resist to watch as the pupils of her eyes dilated with a strange sense of his own pleasure.

For the lab experiment.

Of course.

-————————————————————————

Chapter 3: Rationality

Summary:

He did not have something on his mind, he had someone.

"I, do have a particular... idea on my mind."

-————————————————————————

Holding his sleeve positioning herself the furthest away from his form something etched his mind. Disappointment. This in no doubt, was out of respect. So the noticeable distance in comparison to other suitors she had danced with prior to himself that evening should not unnerve him.

So it didn't.

So it 'did not'.

Christine had one arm draped -the one that should be located around the nape of his neck- around the opposing length of his sleeve. Again, replicating a distance in which a person daring enough could perform a 'limbo' between the pair of them.

No better than his form. His hands holding the delicate bits of her silk shawl leading them across the dance floor in swooping motions were akin to that if the Mother Horta was on the dance floor in replacement of themselves.

The music that had been playing throughout the evening filled the void of silence.

Star-crossed lovers' high

The dance pattern was a most uncomfortable one. Even considering the fact that he had been forcibly pushed to dance by the Platonians... Nonetheless, the reason for the uncomfortable situation was not because of closeness... it seemed to be the lack of such.

Fascinating.

We're like strangers

"You sure have been lost in thought a lot today."

Turning his gaze down to the curls of blonde hair, it seemed that the waves now held a mixture of chestnut from closer inspection. That was irrelevant.

"Your raising your eyebrow again. Well... what I mean- huh -you seem to have something on your mind. More so than a little lack of vitamin C couldn't fix..."

He did not have something on his mind, he had someone.

"I, do have a particular... idea on my mind."

Holding hands and trying to pretend

With something... fluttering in his chest, the little bit of Christine's face he could see seemed to warp into that of deep thought.

The room that once held at most half of the ships inhabitants was steadily growing empty. Perhaps he should vocalize thi-

"When I have intruding thoughts, I tend to listen to music, or..." Lowering her voice staring straight ahead, she whispered whilst leaning forward, "-in your case maybe meditation might prove effective?"

In her own discreet way, Christine always seemed to respect his boundaries like other members of the crew. However, unlike the rest of the crew she had never failed to mention what needed to be said even to a high probability of her own human 'embarrassment'.

"Thank you for the, consideration. However in contradiction, these thoughts do not seem... unpleasant." His mind sped before having a chance to catch up.

Entangled in a dance that never ends

Body acting on desire, he tugged Christine gently towards him. She allowed the movement.

He...

This feeling.

He... felt as if he were to cry, become sick, and to smile... all at once. Each emotion that he had experienced separately, now he was feeling all at once.

Feeling the rigidness of her stunned form against his chest he peered down.

How did he not notice this before?

Staring at the bright blue sapphire eyes, he slipped his hand into her own.

Everything settled to the back of his mind. There was something he was going to ask. Was their not?

"It seems that you do not know the proper form in dance. However, I can assist."

This is where our worlds collide

Lifting Christine's other arm delicately to lay itself over his shoulder. he could not imagine what seemed more important in that moment.

-————————————————————————

Thump. Thump.

The heartbeat radiating in unison with hers send shivers down to the base of her spine. The thumping circulated throughout her head and chest. Spock could probably hear her own accelerated heartbeat with that Vulcan hearing. Considering that she could hear his it was likely. Most definitely likely.

It was so faint. Heat blushed upon her face. The dull throbbing of his heart. The melodic tune. The heart located right below hers to the side.

She dare not look back up. This... was most assuredly platonic.

So for better, for worse

Or... he very well meant it to be platonic. Yes very platonic. Her head fit perfectly within the crook of his neck.

Let's bite that magic bullet

The smell of his aftershave resonated as she was led across the dimming dance floor. Lights softly flutter around them.

Oh, how she could use a cup of coffee. So at the very least to straighten her head out at what was happening. Or what had been happening.

"Mr. Spock."

Being pulled in closer did not help to sway the rising tide of her abundant emotions. It only increased the flutters of nerves washing over her in cold sweats.

"Yes?"

I need to feel the mercy

The question remained on the tip of her tongue, she did not have the nerve to ask. She, she didn't want the reminder of rejection.

Of a star-crossed lovers' high

Could it be?

No, Spock did not know her feelings, or at least the extent of them. It was just assumed that the one time confession was because of the stupid virus floating around the ship.

What was happening?

Tightening her arm around Spock's neck she couldn't help the sway of her emotions from enjoying this simple feeling. She allowed the the motion to convey her question.

If he was permitting this she surely was allowed to enjoy it right? Even though she needed to move on and this,... this simple 'feeling' would only result in hurting her later.

Guilt. She was being selfish.

She was too tired to sort this. And the music in the background sounded muffled away into the oblivion of emotions crashing over her in a splashing tide.

Enjoy this crazy ride

Trying to keep her breathing steady, she took note of those remaining in the room.

Were, these emotions all stemming from just herself. For these, felt stronger and more.. bonded.

We are dancing

This... this whole situation seemed like something that shouldn't be or... can't be... coming from Spock that is. Surely she would expect this from the Captain, Scotty, a random ensign or for all sakes Len.. not Spock. Of course not that she had men flaunting after her by no means. Its just this was so out of his per norm character.

That is however when she had noticed something.

Empty.

We're lost within a world that's so intense

"Oh goodness the time. Everyone's gone."

Leaning back she blinked. Was this real.

How long had they been dancing for? The dance wasn't suppose to end till about a hour... had they really been dancing that long? It had only felt like a few measly minutes.

Time and time again

"Indeed."

Being spun around in a per usual stance a better view of the room was gather.

Absolutely no one.

"The room has been completely empty for 5.232 minutes."

They WERE the ones remaining in the room.

Being spun back into Spock's chest she looked up surprised when Spock continued.

Spinning on a storm that never ends

She didn't know what to say.

Was it that punch?

Arms remained clenched to her own chest between herself and the Vulcan.

Time seemed slowed. Her heart beating rapidly. Scared she was.

If the gossip between her lone love life and her tangle with plomeek soup could get any worse this would be the laughing 'broth of stock' for sure tomorrow.

Spock wrapped his arms freely around her bringing her even closer than she could have never imagined. No dream this time.

This is where our worlds collide

Unintentionally, Spock was adding salt to her wound. And it stung.

Time for her to get her head out of the clouds.

Pulling back slightly against the movement she felt a foreign sensation flood her being.

"You-" Pausing to find the words, "You are very proficient in dancing Mister Spock..."

Indeed she had been surprised by it.

Admiration. Love. Warmth. It felt... alien to her. It didn't feel as if those emotions were hers.

Idiotic. The punch must be kicking in now. Wooziness did embrace her slightly just as Spock did the same.

"Why does your tone suggest... surprise?"

"Well, I just... didn't expect you would be the type. You are a... "

"Half Vulcan."

"... isn't everyone else supposed to be the one reminding you of that."

Crawling her arms up to stretch she was surprised as Spock pulled her arms to wrap around his neck.

Face to face with the Vulcan she felt heat rush to her face.

"If 'everyone', you are referring to is the good doctor, then yes. I must concede."

Smiling slightly she stared straight off to the side yawning discreetly.

10 hour shifts were never fun.

"Well, the reason I mentioned it was because everyone I have danced with this evening seemed to have two left feet, two right feet or cinder blocks for feet. So, it is a nice change."

She twinged. Speaking of feet, her feet hurt. It was how many centuries since heels were invented and they still couldn't find a way to make them less painful. Gawh.

Pain.

Sure enough to be blisters tomorrow.

"I did not know that there were individuals aboard the Enterprise ailed with 'two left' or 'two right' foot deformities."

"It was an expression. It means that they danced poorly as if they has two left feet or two right feet or-"

"Cinderblocks."

"Exactly."

Closing her eyes she allowed the swelling tide of all that was around her to guide her in swift motions across the floor.

That was of course until the movement ceased.

"Christine?"

"Hmm?" She asked opening her eyes.

Realizing that someone was holding her up she realized that in her own exhausted state... she had been the one to stop dancing.

"Sorry." She said leaning back covering her mouth with a yawn.

Hm, the music stopped.

-————————————————————————

"I apologize."

"Don't apologize... it was a lovely evening. Although was their something that you had needed?"

Spock thinks for a moment.

The lab experiment.

His mind had almost voided it completely. For now he had lost his chance to ask her about the experiment. Although, it did not seem like a lost opportunity... rather a gained one. She was tired and it did seem to be common courtesy not to discuss it until she had rested.

For he had been selfish wanting to dance with her further and now he had pushed her towards the point of exhaustion. How disgraceful.

"Nothing that I can think of that cannot wait until tomorrow."

Arriving at Christine door he watched as her face tore a blank expression before tilting with a slight... amused smile.

"Tomorrow?"

"Lab room 6 tomorrow at, 10 hundred hours?"

"The one lab experiment Lieutenant Florence was leading?"

Nodding, "Yes, Miss Harper said that you could give some exclusive insight as to the proceedings. And if I understand correctly, Miss Florence was not the only one leading the project."

Christine nods. "O.. of course. Ill be there Mister Spock. And,... What ever do you mean?" She asked lightening her tone at the end.

"Perhaps." He slightly coughs. There was no need. However, he did interrupt her evening this night. So in attempt to make it up.

"Yes?"

A hand etched across his arms following a pair of eyes looking far more alert than they once had just moments before.

Taking the hand ever so slightly he tugged it closer leaning in.

Kissing the outstretched hand he invited her to as one might say, let him, 'sweep her off her feet' more often.

She was stunning, stunned, and his.

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argumate · 4 years

Text

now I feel compelled to write an analysis of the She-Ra battle in the style of Bret Devereaux’s excellent blog, if I can pull that off.

Engagement

The Battle of Bright Moon, as depicted in the She-Ra season one finale.

Adversaries

The Horde, a dictatorship led by Hordak, is at war with The Rebellion, also known as the Princess Alliance, a loose confederation of feudal states led by Queen Angella of the kingdom of Bright Moon and her daughter, Glimmer.

The people of most interest in this engagement are Force Captain Catra, who is leading the Horde army, and Adora aka She-Ra, who is the champion of Bright Moon and leading its defence under the command of Angella and Glimmer.

Fascinatingly, Adora and Catra grew up together in the Horde and it was actually Adora who was promoted to Force Captain before finding her alternate persona as She-Ra and defecting to the Princess Alliance.

The shared history and close connection between these two adversaries gives them insight into each other’s plans, but also adds emotional complications that could compromise their judgement. They are also both very inexperienced, and this is their first major battle.

Setting

The war is taking place on the planet of Etheria, with the Horde based in the Fright Zone, an industrialised and heavily polluted region that is surprisingly close to Bright Moon, a fortified city set in idyllic hilly countryside on a river by the sea. The two sides are separated by the Whispering Woods, a magical forest full of monsters, hidden crystal temples of the ancient First Ones, and other supernatural weirdness that acts as a natural barrier and prevents direct attack over land.

Etheria is an unusual planet to say the least, and it appears to be networked in some sense between an assortment of “runestones” from which the princesses draw supernatural powers. The Horde also has one runestone, their use of which is the key to this engagement.

History

The war has been going on for a long time, but decades (?) ago there was a particularly fierce battle in which Queen Angella’s husband was killed, along with many others, and the Princess Alliance effectively disbanded. Since then they have struggled to reform and have focused on defending their own kingdoms individually instead of coordinating assaults on the Horde, leaving them vulnerable to being conquered one by one.

However this earlier battle must have devastated the Horde too, as we observe a chronic shortage of manpower that leads them to rely heavily on robots and poorly trained conscripts. In particular they seem to have lost almost all of their officer class, and are forced to train new ones starting from childhood (!) a significant investment of time and effort that limits their activities to sporadic raids and hit-and-run attacks while they rebuild their strength.

Background

Earlier Catra captured a princess, Entrapta, and convinced her to defect to the Horde and help them weaponise the runestone in their possession. In doing so they were able to drain enormous amounts of power from the other runestones through the planetary network, setting off a series of natural disasters and freezing the Whispering Woods, which neutralised its magic and made it a viable route for a land assault on Bright Moon.

As it happens, destroying the runestone at Bright Moon would set off a chain reaction that depowers all the other runestones, leaving the Princess Alliance helpless and giving the Horde effective control of the entire planet. Catra thus has the opportunity -- on her first command! -- to win the entire war with one swift strike.

Objectives

The Horde aims to destroy the runestone at Bright Moon. Since success would win the war, they commit all of their forces to the assault.

The Rebellion wishes to repel the Horde attack and protect the runestone. Ideally they would find some way to take the fight to the now undefended Fright Zone, but this is beyond their capabilities as they are in a desperate struggle to merely survive.

Forces

Force Captain Catra has the entire Horde army at her command, consisting of tanks, skiffs, attack robots, and armoured infantry. We are given little information as to their organisation or unit structure, but we can assume they have radio communication and have discussed their battle plan in advance.

Horde soldiers train together from infancy and are highly indoctrinated, so we can expect strong unit cohesion and willingness to fight. However, their training exercises are limited and unrealistic, they have little experience in battle, and are discouraged from creative problem solving, so aside from Catra we cannot expect a virtuoso display of combat skills.

Bright Moon apparently has no standing army, the guards appear to be purely ceremonial in nature, and initially they only field Adora in her She-Ra form alone against the entire Horde army, with Queen Angella providing backup via the shielding effect of the runestone.

Admittedly She-Ra is a formidable warrior, strong enough to punch through stone, wielding a sword that can shoot laser beams and slice through steel, and capable of taking a direct hit from a tank without suffering major damage. However she can only do so much at a time, and is vulnerable to being overwhelmed by the sheer number of opponents.

She is reinforced by her companions, Glimmer and Bow on the flying horse Swift Wind, and two other princesses wielding magic nets, but this is not so much an army as a loose team of individual champions with highly disparate skill sets.

Logistics

The Horde army is fully mechanised and with the woods now accessible they can be in Bright Moon in a matter of hours and be back home in time for dinner, so they move fast and carry no food or supplies.

Scouting

Bright Moon observe the Horde army on the move through the woods and have time to prepare, although the extent of their preparations is limited to choosing better weapons from the armoury. The Horde’s arrival is heralded by their first shots slamming into the castle, suggesting that the expectation of protection by the woods has led to a serious lack of defensive works in the kingdom.

The Horde are attacking a fixed target, the runestone, so they head straight for it and do not send out scouts or keep watch, a fatal mistake that prevents them from cutting off any unexpected reinforcements from the other kingdoms.

Attack!

The Horde army emerges from the woods at the shallow river crossing, just opposite the Bright Moon fortress.

Conveniently for the Horde, the runestone is located outside and in front of the fortress, leaving it utterly unprotected by any defences aside from its own supernatural shielding effect, reinforced by Queen Angella in person, which places her directly in the firing line. The runestone is also mounted on a high pedestal that is vulnerable to tank fire; it’s not clear if bringing the pedestal down would destroy the runestone but it certainly looks very fragile.

Since Bright Moon’s champions are still in the armoury choosing their weapons, the Horde army is free to position their tanks as artillery pieces and fire at will, primarily at the runestone but also taking some shots at the fortress and neighbouring area, presumably to pin down any defenders that might emerge.

So far everything is looking great for Catra: Bright Moon has no ranged weapons that can counter her tanks, defenders would need to make a suicidal charge across the ford against overwhelming firepower to get close enough to do any damage, she has fast moving hover skiffs to intercept and mop up any enemy forces that attempt to encircle her position, and she can send heavily armoured robots across the river to attack the fortress while holding back her precious infantry for safety.

Response

Adora’s response is brutally direct: she transforms into She-Ra and with her terrifying strength begins to simply tear the tanks apart. But Catra is expecting this and has prepared a surprise: the lead tanks have no occupants and are booby-trapped to explode, blasting She-Ra back and stunning her while the Horde continues their pounding attack on the runestone.

A single champion, no matter how strong, cannot defeat an army! However, She-Ra can still do devastating damage with her sword beams, so Catra moves to the next stage of her plan by luring her away into a one on one fight, and Adora, still disoriented, gives chase.

Duel

Catra can hold her own against Adora but is utterly outclassed by She-Ra in a rage, who can smash boulders to fragments with her fists. However she isn’t in her right mind: dazed by the bomb, terrified of failure, and Catra cunningly exploits this, using acrobatics and taking advantage of the terrain to stay out of range of her attacks while constantly goading her to distraction.

It’s a risky ploy as Catra’s command is vital to the success of the Horde assault and She-Ra comes close to destroying her, but ultimately her gambit works: the duel takes She-Ra away from the main assault for long enough that the combined assault by tanks and robots can incapacitate the queen, leaving the runestone unprotected and vulnerable to complete destruction.

It’s Personal

She-Ra’s big mistake was allowing Catra to make it personal and forgetting that her objective was to protect the runestone. In the heat and pain of battle her focus narrowed to the point that she lost her grasp of strategy and latched on to the one familiar thing, and Catra exploited this to the full.

However, Catra also made a crucial mistake in her planning that may have hinged on her unresolved emotional entanglements: she sent all of her forces to Bright Moon and none to the other kingdoms. Was she really betting on them staying put? Or was she so determined to beat Adora specifically that she compromised her strategy by throwing her entire army at her and holding nothing back. Even sending a small raiding force against the nearby kingdoms would have kept them pinned down and unable to assist Bright Moon, and cost her almost nothing, but it seems that her focus on Adora as the primary threat left her blinkered to possibility of the Princess Alliance living up to its name.

The Tide Turns

Yes, the tide literally turns, and Catra belatedly realises the risks of fighting over a shallow estuary against an enemy that can control the sea when Mermista shows up riding her own personal tsunami.

The gaps in Catra’s strategy become even more evident when they are attacked from behind by Perfuma emerging from the woods, trapping the Horde forces between angry plants and angry water, while the snow princess fires ice crystals and Bow and Swift Wind rain destruction down from above.

This would all be moot if the runestone was destroyed, but the display of solidarity and realisation that she’s not alone gives She-Ra the power to restore Queen Angella and amplify the power of the runestone, supercharging Glimmer’s frankly terrifying teleportation powers, and blasting Catra out of the picture.

With this the battle is over, and the Horde forces that remain take advantage of their mobility to get the heck out of there and retreat to the Fright Zone.

Outcome

A victory for Bright Moon! But a sobering one, they were badly unprepared and almost lost the war as a result. Reforming the Princess Alliance and demonstrating the ability to mount a joint defence is a vital first step, but they will need to do a lot better than this in order to win, and the Horde will be back.

A defeat for the Horde, and for Catra, but Hordak is wise enough to agree with her that it was a damn good showing for a first attempt, and there will definitely be a second.

#shera

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gerrydelano · 3 years

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i finally had enough spoons to read the latest chapter of pbr and i’m way too tired for coherency but absolutely stunning work as usual, your writing has such a good & distinct uhh. flavour?? feel? again, very tired. i love gerry and tim very much and my brain went !SON BOY! immediately when i got to that part. also fuck gertrude all my homies hate gertrude even if she is fascinatingly complex. excellent writing as usual please take all the time you need moving forward!! be gentle with yourself!

aaaah, thank you so much! i finally got the spoons to answer This, i'm sorry for the delay, but! i'm really glad you liked it! i had very bad writer's block for all of november, and gonna do my zine piece before continuing with pbr but i am BACK ON THE HORSE (i think 😂)

SON BOY ALLOWED!!!! and gertrude is So fun to write but so challenging, like... g-d that complexity is hard enough if she's alive but writing her as a page in the catalogue of the trapped dead is. a new layer of Yikes. at least we have gerry and tim to carry us through 🙏

#asks #anon #pbr tag #reviews

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duker42 · 5 years

Text

💜Give Me Tonight💜

Y/N calmly watches her two squad members square off. It took so little to set Jean and Eren off, she simply rolled her eyes and continued to watch from her tucked away spot.

The celebratory meal sat before her, untouched, her portion of the scarce meat had been given to a younger Cadet, their eyes expressing their eternal gratitude for the slice of beef. The younger soldiers around her failed to realize the reasoning behind the benevolent gesture of the officers. This was the last real dinner many of them would ever have.

Tomorrow evening the Scouts would embark on their most dangerous mission yet. Retaking Wall Maria and reaching the Yeager basement in Shiganshina. As the announcement was made about the serum that Captain Levi would be carrying, Y/N heart sank. She knew that the numbers of dead would far outweigh any previous expedition. The years spent working beside the men standing in front of them told her that.

While she was new to Levi Squad, she was one of the few veterans the Survey Corps had left. The last member of Miche Zacharias’ squad, her injuries sustained during the 57th Expedition had prevented her from accompanying them to Utgard Castle. It was ultimately her saving grace. With the rest of her squad wiped out by the titans that moved at night, Commander Erwin has reassigned her to the Captain’s squad, the oldest member apart from the Captain himself.

She raised an eyebrow as the man moved quietly among the crowd, making his way to the two squaring off against each other. The lightening fast kick to Eren and punch to Jean quickly ended the squabble. Y/N snickered at the disgust in Levi’s voice as he demanded Jean’s puke be cleaned up. She watched as he slipped over to the barrels of ale, poured himself a tankard and disappeared outside. Making her decision, she picked up her own mug and made her way through the crowd, following her Captain into the night.

She spent several minutes tracking him down. Walking slowly down the narrow alleyway, she sees that he is concentrating on a conversation behind him on the Main Street. His mug is sitting on the ground next to him, his arms propped up on his bent knees, back against the wall. As she drawls closer, his grey orbs flicker up to her and he puts a finger to his lips, telling her to be quiet. Y/N hears Armin’s enthusiastic voice talking about something called the sea on the street beyond. Eren’s low reply came as she lowered herself to sit across from Levi, her legs stretched out in front of her, brushing the tips of his shoes.

As the group shuffles off to find their beds, the silence is broken as Levi says pulling his mug up to take a swallow “Their dreams are big, I hope it helps them survive this.” He puts the mug to his lips, downing a healthy gulp.

Humming her agreement, she observes the man beside her. His causal clothes look just as good as his uniform. The dark trousers and form fitting grey long sleeved shirt are a bit more approachable without the formality of his cravat. His eyes catch hers as he turns to look at her. “What are you doing out here? You should be resting.”

Sighing, she steels herself against the rejection she knows she is about to face. “I wanted to ask you something. Would you.....spend the night with me tonight?”

She watches as he his eyes widen in shock. Of all the things he could have heard come from her mouth, that was the last thing he was expecting. Nodding towards the mug in her hand he manages, “How many of those have you had, Y/N? Are you drunk?”

She shakes her head. “First one and only one, haven’t even had half.”

He shakes his onyx colored hair as he awkwardly takes a larger gulp of his ale. “I.....I.....”

She hurriedly interrupts his stuttering. “Before you answer, let me explain. This time, two days from now, one or both of us is going to be dead. Along with the majority of those we know. I just.....I just want to experience a little more of what life has to offer before I go, you know?”

His steel colored eyes study her as he contemplates her words. She nervously twitches under the penetrating scrutiny. “Why would you choose me? Of everyone here?”

“That’s easy. I trust you and I like you. Plus, you are like me. You have dealt with a lot of this world’s suffering, but experienced very little of its pleasure.” Y/N’s eyes sparkled with honesty as she made her case. She glanced down at the hands folded in her lap. “I have killed with these hands and will continue to kill for humanity. But for once I want to use them to comfort and satisfy. I’m just asking that you give me tonight.”

Levi looked down at the feminine hands clasped together on her lap. Slender fingers he knew could wield a blade as well as anyone, scarred from the busted knuckles of past fights and skirmishes, calloused from hours gripping blades. He thought they looked very similar to his own.

He had tried to push away any physical attraction he had held for anyone his entire life. Repressing the hormones of his earlier years had been easy in the constant fight for survival. As he had grown older, it had served him well as countless of those around him had fallen. Still, he had always been curious of how it would feel to hold and be held, to lose himself in another, even if it was just a night. And Y/N was attractive, every male within the Scouting Regiment had said so. Better yet, she was practical and older than the other brats around them.

He drained the rest of his drink and climbed to his feet. Holding his hand out to her his response was simple. “Yes.” Pulling her up, he let go of her hand and turn to walk back to the barracks.

When they entered the building, she turned towards him, stopping him with a warm hand placed on his arm. He looked at her, surprisingly disappointed, thinking she had changed her mind. She stunned him with her next words.

“We should go to my room.” His brow furrowed in confusion, so she elaborated. “That way you wouldn’t have to deal with any...memories of me in your room.”

Understanding flooded his system and he was humbled by her request. Rationally, she knew that he stood a better chance of returning from Shiganshina. Y/N was trying to insure he wasn’t haunted by her presence in his bed. Nodding quietly, he followed her as she turned down a different hallway than his own. She stopped at her door and opened it, throwing over her shoulder as she stepped inside. “I made sure I cleaned.”

Stepping inside the room, Levi felt a nervousness that was foreign to him. He had no experience to draw on. Unsure of what to do, he waited for her to direct him. “Um....If you want to get undressed, I’m going to wash up really quickly” Y/N offered as she slipped past him into the small en-suite.

Disrobing quickly, he laid his folded clothes on a chair and stood beside her bed. He noticed that she had put fresh sheets on the bed, indicating this truly wasn’t a drunken whim.

He turned towards the sound of the opening door as she re-emerged, stopping short as she saw him. Her blush filled her entire face as she drank in his frame. He suddenly wondered if he should have been under the covers when she came back in. Cursing his inexperience, he pulled back the sheets and slipped into her bed, watching her as she crossed the room.

If she had been attracted to him clothed, she wasn’t disappointed by his nude form. Y/N had almost gasped at how well built the shorter man was. All hard muscle and sinew, he embodied pure male testosterone. His manhood, even soft, was an impressive display. She was almost afraid to see how he would look aroused.

Stopping near the chair he had placed his clothes, she reached up to remove her own shirt. His eyes narrowed as he watched her, an arm coming up to fold behind his head. Her shoes came next, and then she slowly unfastened the skirt she had worn, letting it fall to the floor. She felt hot as he gaze roamed over every inch of her skin. The bindings she wore on her breasts came next, a soft sigh escaping her in relief. Her nipples puckered in the cool air and a fascinatingly hungry expression crossed Levi’s face. Sliding the panties down her hips and thighs, she bends over to pick up her clothes when his words wash over her. “Leave them. Come here Y/N.”

He moves over to make room for her as she slides under the covers with him. This was her first time being in a bed with a man. Her nerves were starting to fray, and breathing rapidly increasing as she wondered if she had asked too much. She felt his hand gently grasp her’s and pull her into laying on her side, facing him. His hand stopped at his chest and left hers resting there. Her erratic breathing matching the beat of his heart, fast and unsteady. They were both equally nervous. That thought gave her confidence as her fingertips slid over his warm skin. He shivered slightly and his breath caught as she traced the ridges of his stomach. He exhaled loudly causing her to smile as her hand dipped lower.

It was her turn to gasp as her hand brushed his erection. Not expecting that contact so soon, she pulled her hand away as if burned. A strangled laugh came from Levi, causing her to glance up at him watching her.

“It’s different.” She offered. “It wasn’t....”She stopped talking as he took her hand and put it back, right above him.

Hesitantly, she felt the tip of his length with her fingers, feeling him jump against her touch. She giggled and ran her hand down the shaft. His groan worried her, think she had hurt him, but his eyes were closed and his jaw clenched when she looked at him again.

She was right, he was frighteningly large when aroused. It gave her a rush of power and pleasure to know that she had brought him to that state. Moving her hand against him again, she gripped him, wrapping her fingers around his girth, eliciting a louder moan from him. A small push of his hips signaled what he needed in that moment, and she complied.

She felt his tentative hands start to wander over her skin as she stroked him. His touch was gentle, almost reverent as he mapped her body. His mouth covered hers in an electrifying kiss. She tasted of mint, him of the ale he had consumed. Their tongues mated slowly as they explored each other. His hands paused at every location that elicited a sigh or gasp from her, delicately replicating the movement as if testing it was pleasure or pain that brought that reaction. Eventually his caresses grew bolder as he learned and tapped into an instinctive need to pleasure his partner.

Ready for more, she shifted underneath him, opening up as he settled between her thighs. The weight on top of her felt right as he slid his hands under her back and ass, positioning her body to accept him. The first thrust was an artless mess of limbs and need. Stilling, he clenched his jaw in determination to stop himself from immediately spilling like a wet-behind-the-ears boy. The tight heat surrounding him made it difficult to wait for her, and he was relieved when she arched up against him. Slowly finding the perfect pace they descended together into a pleasurable abyss. Nothing existed but that moment and the two of them. At the peak of release, both are surprised at the intensity and the beauty of watching the other come apart.

After washing up, Levi was surprised he didn’t feel the need to return to his quarters. Coming back to Y/N’s bed, he waited for her to finish her toilette and pulls her into his arms again. Soft kisses and gentle caresses was all that was needed. No words pass between them as they slip off into a dreamless sleep as the first rays of light break across the horizon.

~~~~~

The blast over Shiganshina worried Levi. Hange and his squad sprang into his mind as he wondered about their safety while standing on the other side of the wall. A fleeting picture of Y/N in bed beside him came to the forefront of his mind as he turned his attention back to the Beast Titan.

The morning after wasn’t awkward like Levi had feared it would be. He had been woken up in a way that he thought was a gift from the Gods. Her hot mouth had been on him with her hand wrapped around his shaft as he had opened his eyes. When he was almost about to explode, he had flipped her over and slide into her easily. Their mutual orgasm was just as good as the night before, leaving them both breathless. Y/N had kissed Levi goodbye as he dressed, but there were no tears nor sad smiles. He had pulled her close and told her to be careful as he walked to the door.

When the squad had assembled for the ride to the lifts, Y/N had treated him with the same respect she had always bestowed upon him. She hadn’t sought him out during their nighttime trek through the forest, opting to stay in her assigned position in the formation.

As he began the run towards the Beast Titan, Erwin and the rest of the soldiers distracting him with a suicide charge, Levi wonders if perhaps it will be Y/N that survives today. Or if that one night will be the best memory they both hold before they give their lives for humanity.

~~~~~

Y/N stood on the rooftop, her eyes filled with sorrow as she held a nearly hysterical Eren back from Levi. She understood both of the arguments for saving Erwin and Armin, and couldn’t fathom having to be in that situation. When she had shown up with Hanji and pulled Mikasa off of Levi, his shout of relief at seeing both of them had given her a moments pause. Concern for Hanji, she understood. They had been comrades and friends for years. But he had shown the same emotion for her. Did that mean something? Listening to Hanji’s monologue, she saw her own fallen comrades in her mind’s eye. When she carried Eren away from the four people on the roof, she was overcome with the emotion of the day.

She volunteered to sit with the Commander’s body as Levi and Hanji found a place to lay him to rest. He deserved so much more than an abandoned house as a coffin, but so did all those laying on the field outside the gates. The devastating total of losses was overwhelming. Ten people had survived a campaign that was two hundred strong at the onset.

Leaving the two to pay their final respects to their friend, Y/N made her way to the wall where Sasha and Armin were recovering. Watching Floch, Connie and Jean look for any survivors among the mangled bodies on the field below, she silently wondered if the information they might learn in that basement was worth the price.

She didn’t know how much time has passed when she felt someone sit down beside her. Turning her head, she saw Levi looking out over the battlefield, his downtrodden expression speaking to his own thoughts on the outcome. Long minutes passed before he turned and met her compassionate face. He hesitantly reaches for her hand, his fingers gently intertwining with hers as he turned his head to look forward again.

“I’m glad you’re alive. I didn’t know what to expect when the explosion.....” He stumbled over the words, trying hard communicate things he normally never expressed.

“We were lucky. All of us.” She tightened her grip on his hand, enjoying the feeling of his warm skin, proof he was still alive.

“Y/N, I want another night with you. I want as many as you’ll give me.” Levi looked at her again, his grey eyes filled with weariness and loss but also hope.

Y/N smiled at her handsome Captain as she laid her head against his shoulder. “You can have all my nights, Levi.”

Mobile MasterList

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jellydishes · 4 years

Text

Warden Bethany Hawke was a very unfortunate woman to have in Skyhold.

Not in the sense that she was poor company, of course, quite the opposite - Josephine easily could and had spent hours talking with her. The truth of the matter was, Josephine found her attention lingering on Bethany even when the warden was nowhere around.

She was certainly striking, with strong features framed by curls gathered into a long braid and clever, long-fingered hands. Josephine sometimes caught herself torn between looking at Bethany’s face when she spoke or her hands. She couldn’t help it, she had always been fascinated by beautiful hands, and Bethany’s were both well-formed and fascinatingly dotted with scars and calluses. Her hands had character, and Josephine couldn’t help but wonder what those hands would feel like.

That train of thought made her flustered when she was completely alone in her office, let alone when the woman in question came by for a consultation.

Today was even more of a disaster on that front than usual. Bethany had come straight to Josephine’s office from a mission with Leliana’s scouts, and if Josephine lifted her head just so, she would be able to see where a smear of mud met the deep red birthmark that streaked across Bethany’s nose. She did not raise her head, but she didn’t have to. She could see it in her head as clearly as the letter she was, or had, been writing. Had, because it was impossible to concentrate with Bethany in the room. Her presence was almost suffocating in the very best way, her very presence stealing all of the breath from Josephine’s lungs and leaving her lightheaded.

For a woman who had been raised to keep a calm, level head in any situation, she was finding it remarkably difficult to concentrate on what really was a very important piece of legislature she had been puzzling out ways to evade, and-

“-phine?”

Josephine went still. There came a laugh, full-bodied as the most luxurious wine, and a gloved hand settled on the desk beside Josephine’s. “Look at you, lost in the clouds,” Bethany said, with such a smile in her voice that Josephine could no more resist glancing up than a flower could resist turning towards the sunshine. She was just in time to catch a flash of a dimple, and was caught. She only realized she had been staring when that laugh came again. “Something on your mind, my lady?”

Coming from Bethany, those words did not sound at all condescending. In point of fact, she found her cheeks growing hot as Bethany started to lean over her desk. Josephine wasn’t sure if it was to say something else in that light, teasing tone that had so enraptured her or to touch her, but the very thought had her lurching to her feet. “You must excuse me, warden! I have very important matters to see to!” She almost stumbled over the words, and did stumble over her own feet as she came around her desk.

She didn’t have the time to be embarrassed or even properly think at all. Everything seemed to move very fast, and very slowly all at once. She saw the slide of her foot in the wrong direction and knew that she was heading for a very embarrassing fall in front of the very last person in the world she’d want to. There was just enough time for the word ‘shit’, to flit through her mind, and then warm arms settled around Josephine’s waist, swinging her in a half circle and up against Bethany’s chest.

Josephine stared wide eyed, mouth parted, and very, very aware of how very warm Bethany was. This would have been a perfect time to put her vaunted skills to good use and to say something suave and charming, something that would make warden Bethany Hawke laugh. Well… in that, she succeeded. “Shit!” Josephine blurted out, and brought her head down to Bethany’s shoulder as that delightful laugh came again.

“I don’t know about that,” Bethany said, her arms circling just that much closer around her. “If this is all I’ll get to see out of you before your very important meeting, I’ll take it.”

Josephine stared, and she couldn’t help it. She laughed. “It isn’t as important as all that,” she admitted with a smile. “At least… I just keep going around in circles, owing entirely to a certain someone.”

“Is that so?” Bethany raised eyebrows shot through with the same silvery strips of scar tissue that marked wherever her skin was visible. “Should I go, then? Leave you to your work?”

It was impossible to tell if she was teasing or not, and Josephine instantly shook her head. “No!” She tucked a hand close to her face, flustered and thrown off what little balance she’d had left after quite literally tumbling into Bethany’s arms. “No, I- you-“ She started and then stopped, her cheeks darkening still further from her earlier blush. “You simply make it impossible to collect myself! Do you do that on purpose?” Josephine blurted out, and almost started to regret it until Bethany’s inscrutable expression broke into an impish grin.

“Of course I do,” she laughed, and Josephine couldn’t help but notice that Bethany had not made the slightest attempt at putting her down. Josephine was very, very content with this development. “I’ve been trying to flirt with you for days now. You almost make me wonder if I need to practice, the way they all flew right over your head.”

“I wouldn’t say all of them,” Josephine said under her breath, thinking back to all of the seemingly unintentional touches that lingered a little too long, laughter and smiles and the almost uncanny way Bethany always seemed to come by just when Josephine was alone. “Just… a significant amount.”

“Well in that case!” Bethany’s golden-brown eyes crinkled, and Josephine found herself unable to look away more than ever. “Still, I think I have to prove that my skills are intact, don’t you? For the sake of my bruised pride, you see.”

“Prove your- oh!” Josephine almost jumped as Bethany set her gently back on her feet, only to take up one of Josephine’s hands in hers, tucking the other behind her back. She started to stammer an embarrassingly inarticulate jumble of syllables as Bethany bent over her hand, pausing just shy of it to glance up at Josephine with a smile.

“May I kiss you, lady Montilyet?”

“Only if you use my name!” Josephine said without thinking, then winced as Bethany laughed again, pressing her forehead to the back of Josephine's hand, then straightened.

“Of course. Josephine, may I-“

It was Bethany’s turn to be surprised as Josephine almost leaped forward to press her lips to Bethany’s. Her lips were warm under Josephine’s, and parted on a gasp. She tasted like tea and cheap liquor, and it made Josephine shiver. “I’ve been trying to get you to kiss me for the past few minutes!” She said breathlessly into Bethany’s stunned expression when she finally pulled back. “It gets so you almost make me question if I need to practice!” Bethany stammered in turn, which was very satisfying all on it's own, and Josephine did the little triumphant dancing wiggle of her shoulders that always made Leliana laugh. “Trouble? Is that a ‘Yes, Josephine, I would dearly appreciate you kissing me again, and perhaps aga-‘“

It seemed they were going to take turns interrupting each other, Josephine thought distantly. Only, Bethany hadn’t kissed Josephine on the mouth the way Josephine had her. She had instead begun to press a line of scorching kisses down Josephine’s throat, making her let out a squeak. Bethany muffled a laugh into Josephine’s neck that made warmth pool at the base of her spine. “You underestimate me, ambassador. How disappointing. And here I thought we understood each other.” Even as she spoke, Josephine had reason to discover just how clever Bethany Hawke’s fingers were.

Josephine gasped, her hips stuttering up in a way that Bethany must have found very gratifying indeed, because that laugh came again. It was warm and low and throaty, with the slightest rasp that she ached to hear again almost as much as she ached for Bethany to ”Move, for Andraste’s sake!” It did not seem that she had any plans to do any such thing anytime soon, however. Naturally, this meant that Josephine was forced to take matters into her own hands, leaning up to press a warm, thoroughly sharp kiss to Bethany’s lips. Bethany made a particularly pleasing noise and arched as Josephine gave a sudden twist so that their positions were reversed, with Bethany bent back over Josephine’s desk.

“Now that isn’t fair!” Bethany laughed, half a gasp, fingers tightening on the shoulders of Josephine’s dress.

“Whoever told you that I had any intention of playing fair?” Josephine murmured back, tilting her head further to press a line of scorching kisses down the line of Bethany’s jaw. “I am Antivan, after all. And you,” Josephine murmured between pressing soft kisses to Bethany’s throat that served as a contrast to the sure grip on her hip, tugging her just where Josephine wanted her, “are wearing entirely too many clothes.”

“You’re the ambassador, you’re supposed to use that gilded tongue of yours to talk me out of them, aren’t you?” Bethany said archly, and was plainly thinking the follow-up joke about what other uses could be made of Josephine’s gilded tongue. There was only one thing to do about that, or perhaps several. And while Josephine may be inexperienced about some things, she knew enough about persuasion to know that words weren’t needed at all at this juncture, only a smile and entwining her fingers with Bethany’s. This, out of everything, made Bethany Hawke blush, and Josephine knew that she was willing to do quite a lot in order to see it again.

Yes, Warden Bethany Hawke was a very unfortunate woman to have in Skyhold if you had any intention of getting any proper work done. But if your intentions were to stumble after the warden’s laughing gaze, your hand in hers… well, then you could count yourself as very fortunate indeed.

#finished the thing!!#sometimes i write #dragon age #bethany hawke #josephine montilyet #dragon age femslash

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serpentsapple · 4 years

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(This post includes major spoilers for The Grisha Trilogy and the Shades of Magic series.)

@dykeblight replied to our introductory post with the following:

alright bud since u decided to put this in the main tags of the books ur critiquing ur ready to hear my take on this. first of all the wording in this post is pretentious as hell and it bothered me all thru out reading it. second of all, let’s lay some shit down: the only books ive read discussed in this post are adsom and tgt, and while i agree that tgt isn’t the most radically feminist book series out there, i have to ask: why are u focused on women writing this? why is this post generalizing

horrible male authors but name dropping female ones? alinas journey was largely about her realizing that she could make her own choices. about her not needing to be queen or supreme ruler or some shit. about how she could literally settle down with the worlds most boring dude and still be happy. anyways, beyond that: adsom. first of all, whenever someone pulls the “not like other girls” card for lila, i have to pull the “she’s genderfluid” card. it wasn’t Explicitly stated in the series, and v

has expressed regret for that, so it’s probably going to be more obvious in the next series. also, adsom is very much a period piece. you couldn’t be a woman in the early nineteenth century doing what lila did without like, yknow, *not being a woman.* the threat she got on that first ship— a period piece! if it was a male author, then that’s gross. but it’s not, a woman wrote it! lila also proceeded to burn the whole goddamn ship down. sometimes authors don’t want to write traditionally feminine

characters!!! sometimes women want to write about what THEY can relate to! and ve schwab, as a queer woman, probably did that. so now we come back to the question of WHY are you calling out only female authors for this? you could have accomplished the same goal by just including books and authors that you deemed Respectable. not to be that bitch, but there was literally no reason for you to post this lmfao. i think we should first tackle the issue that is men having access to keyboards, and

maybe then we can broaden our horizons by critiquing everything women do thats decidedly not perfect.

We created this blog to discuss these topics, so we welcome other opinions and interpretations!

To reiterate our goal and perhaps clarify... male authors already receive enough publicity and analysis - to the point they eclipse, at times, their female peers, even when it comes to writing female characters. How wonderful of them to treat fictional women as fellow human beings! (How shameless of others to treat them as their personal sexual fantasy!) Yet we would like to hear what women have to say about themselves. It is why we focus exclusively on their works.

Furthermore, we believe these works as worthy of analysis as any text written by a man. And it is precisely because of this conviction - their books potentially as grandiose, as mediocre as any man’s - that we will not refrain from criticising them. To treat them differently would be implicitly agreeing with the notion they aren’t as intellectually engaging as men’s writings.

Moreover, we are not advocating for “feminist” books from women. In fact, we dislike this qualifier: too often misattributed, rarely useful, always commercial. We desire convincing female characters, as talented as they are flawed, as just as they can be immoral. Thus, while we have grown tired of uncreative, unnecessary sexism in fantasy, we are not expecting perfect little militants in every story. We expect to be moved and stunned, to be left inspired or reflecting on what we read.

I hope this has cleared up our intent with the blog. Now, for the specific series discussed...

While I could see this be Bardugo’s aim for Alina’s journey, I disagree with it being well executed. Narratively speaking, I do not think Alina was treated fairly and was able to make true choices. Throughout all three books, Alina remained unobservant and somewhat self-centered, never challenging the affirmations of others and instead regarding them as truth. Let’s take the example of the Darkling: she accepts his supposed initial good intentions and views him, to the very end, as some kind of lost and anguished “boy”. Yet that isn’t what the text shows - on the contrary, the Darkling is a hollow character that spent centuries sitting on his behind, doing nothing for his fellow Grisha. Alina is never given the chance to realise this and reevalute what happened to her.

Beyond this, I feel like Alina’s journey was contrived from the start. Bardugo does not allow her to see beyond the words of others, nor does she allow her to actually grow. Alina’s crush on Mal and her fixation on remaining with him - despite him disliking what she is! - stems from a child’s anxiety and solitude. Instead of becoming her own woman, making her own choices and yes, having to face losing relationships, Alina regresses to the safety of her childhood, powerless and normal, just like Mal. Let us remember that, to remain with him, she sealed her powers within herself, endangering her health! So symbolically, it is a slap in the face: just when she embraced her powers - meaning letting go of her fears, of Mal -, she loses it all and go back to square one.

This is why I don’t find Alina’s journey satisfying. Even if it hurts, I wish to see female characters confronted to their fears and their flaws, and grow from them*. That is not what we witnessed with Alina. And: why is it that female characters must be “depowered”? Why does the Darkling (and Ilya Morozova) get to keep his immense powers, must live with his guilt, yet Alina loses every and any scrap of magic? Why is she punished for her greed so much, when she hardly is the greediest? (This echoes also Genya’s “punishment”, so heavily tied to her being a beautiful woman and beauty being, in Bardugo’s world, a key quality for women. Nikolai’s monstruous transformation is cruel but never specifically targeted at his sex.)

Why is it female characters only whose “happy” ending involve going back to their boyfriend’s house, complete with potential children? In a fantasy world, is it the best we can offer to these characters? Why does “making her own choice” usually involve them being unambitious and - I am barely caricaturing - happy housewives? Where are the female characters being greedy, powerful to the point of madness, and fascinatingly ruthless? Where are the genius, the good but scheming inventors and princesses? Where are the female Darklings and the female Nikolais?

Yes, it may not be Alina’s story and that’s alright. But reading the story she received, I could not help wondering: is it truly her story, or is it her story in a narrative unfair to women?

As for Lila... what Schwab stated confusingly in interviews or twitter threads cannot be used to analyse the text itself, though it may help. In this case, it holds a very different perspective from what she may affirm outside of it, so let’s keep close to what she wrote.

I disagree that it is a period piece. Her series is firmly set in a fantasy version of our world, with four alternate but equally real Londons, and with interactions between them that differentiate her England from ours. She chose to keep this England similar to ours, so the departure from it could be obvious; she chose, again, to have Lila threatened with rape by sailors even in Red London, her full invention. She chose, still, to never mention the miserable reality of lots of poor women like Lila in our England - namely, prostitution. She picked what suited her, as authors do, yet could not come up with any other plot than sexual assault. That she is a woman does not excuse her utter lack of imagination on that front! I find the notion that female characters are condemned to sexual threats depressing, on top of insulting towards authors who still strive to be creative.

And this is all ignoring what Schwab forced her other female characters to endure, which is sexual slavery, somewhat coerced pregnancies and social isolation, plus being sexist caricatures and butchered so men could be sad about it. In that context, what is Schwab exactly saying about women, if even her heroine is misogynistic and desperately trying to escape this reality? If Lila isn’t a woman - which she is in the text, she never denies being one, she only affirms being different, meaning a full human being! -, does that mean women’s place is in caricature and distress and death? If she is, then must they reject their womanhood and deride other women to be in the spotlight?

And this is all, again, ignoring that Schwab who, yes, admitted wanting to write a female character she wished to see in fiction, that resembled her... had Lila’s whole development derailed in favour of male characters. Lila’s ambition and excessiveness vanished in a third book dedicated to temptation! Lila’s anger and recklessness receded in front of Holland, all so we could learn about his sad backstory. Which involved, as salt to the wound, the stereotypes of a greedy girlfriend and the ever failing mother Schwab is so fond of.

Our post never suggested that women should not write non traditionally feminine women. Rather, that would be quite refreshing! I would love to read about these women that we hardly see.

Is it what Schwab wrote, though? Lila indeed crossdresses and appears androgynous enough to sometimes pass as a man (not always, in a manner that is most convenient to the author). Yet: she constantly mocks other women for being vapid, gossiping, feminine, in a word weak. Yet: Schwab has her, in the second book, attend a ball dressed femininely and feeling insecure about it, all to state she is - quoting! - “not most girls” and have Kell, her love interest, compliments her. She has the happy tomboy reaffirmed as able to be feminine and beautiful that way! How is that not depressing for every woman and girl who never want to be feminine? Why did Schwab choose to have her in a dress instead of a suit, like Lila would probably have preferred? Why did Schwab choose to strictly divide women and men into two categories, dress-wearing and not-dress-wearing? Why is Lila alone in her plight as an androgynous woman? Why didn’t this fantasy world have women and men dressed in a way they felt comfortable with?

This isn’t a period piece. Schwab was free to make that choice... and she did not. I would add, too, that women in real life have always struggled and fought against misogyny. They were women and they were still complex human beings and they still tried to live as comfortably as they could. Sometimes they failed, yes, because society wouldn’t want them to. But women like Lila have existed, and behaved like her, and dressed like her, and dreamed as big as her. Why should not we expect as much of fiction, then?

Sidenote: I am especially critical of that awful “tomboy turns into a lady” trope that fandom will seize it and run. It is disheartening to see countless edits and fanarts of Lila depicting her as feminine instead of androgynous as she was written, and often in feminine clothing at that. So if even the narrative later ends up confirming it...

*Or perhaps spiral down, willingfully blind. Alina’s story isn’t supposed to be a tragedy, however, so this does not apply here.

(If you don’t mind, I would like to hear why you found the post’s wording pretentious?)

#reply #shades of magic #the grisha trilogy #our posts #mod V

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wisdomrays · 4 years

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TAFAKKUR: Part 125

Spider Silks: Part 1

The parable of those who take to them other than God for guardians (to entrust their affairs to) is like a spider: it has made for itself a house, and surely the frailest of houses is the spider's house. If only they knew this! (Qur’an, 29:41)

A prehistoric Greek fairytale says a young girl named Arachne was a superb spinner and knitted the most gorgeous cloth. She dared the goddess Athena to a competition. When Athena saw Arachne’s stunning work, she ripped the cloth and hit the young girl. Disgraced, Arachne committed suicide by hanging herself. Athena regretted and transformed Arachne into a spider, so that she could whirl repeatedly and endlessly. Arachnida is the scientific name for spiders. It comes from the young girl in the famous Greek fairytale.

Although usually feared and disliked by people, spiders in fact make life easy for us by feeding on mosquitoes, flies, and locusts, thus saving our crops and eliminate the need for man-made insecticides which pose environmental problems. Besides, spiders are much less dangerous than people think they are; most spiders are keen to avoid interaction with people and will bite only when wounded or scared. Even poisonous spiders are rarely as dangerous as popular myths would have us believe: though black widows are poisonous, and their bites painful, they rarely kill people. If handled properly and quickly the adverse consequences of a black widow’s bite typically diminish in a few hours, and, after a couple of days’ rest or cessation of activities, the victim will fully recuperate.

There are countless features of spiders. But their silk is exceptionally unique and this article covers its various aspects.

Spider silk

Biomaterials, having developed over millions of years, frequently surpass man-made substances in their properties. Spider silk is an exceptionally stringy biomaterial which is made almost completely of substantial proteins. Silk fibers have stretchy powers similar to steel and some silks are practically as elastic as rubber on a weight-to-weight basis. In uniting these two properties, silks disclose a hardiness that is two to three times that of artificial fibers like Nylon or Kevlar. In addition, spider silk is also antimicrobial, hypoallergenic, and completely biodegradable.

The power of spider silk, so fragile in manifestation, is astonishingly great. A filament can be outstretched as much as one half its normal length before breaking, and has a tensile strength exceeded only by fused quartz fibers. Fine fibers are sturdier than others, the power to some degree depending on the velocity with which they are pulled out of the spider's body. The higher the speed, the superior the strength.

Most of the silken fibers are not single fibers but are made up of two or more strings. A thread may be as fine as a millionth of an inch in width but, frequently, it is ten or twenty times as dense, and the assemblage of these threads unsurprisingly creates larger threads of a diversity of thicknesses. Furthermore, some threads are gluey whereas others are not.

Scientific research demonstrates that a single thread of spider silk, thick as a pencil, could stop a 747 Jumbo Jet in flight, and that on an equivalent footing, the spider’s silk is stronger than steel, per unit weight. It has been shown that the dragline silk of the golden orb spider is one of the planet’s hardest threads.

Spiders employ silk for webs, but also for trap lines, draglines, ballooning lines, for egg pouches and nursery nets, for compartments in which to sleep through winter or to copulate, and for entrapping and wrapping their victims. Silk for all these objectives is not accomplished with one kind of gland; there are at least seven distinct kinds. A few distinctive spiders have as many as six kinds and probably have more than six hundred independent glands; others have fewer than this.

Mechanism behind the formation of spider silk

A batch of scientists headed by researchers from the RIKEN Center for Sustainable Resource Science (CSRS) have scrutinized spider silk and discovered that a formerly undiscovered organizational constituent is critical to how the proteins form into the beta-sheet conformation that gives the silk its extraordinary power. If humans can cultivate equivalents to spider silk, they could be applied in industrial and medical applications. It is well-known that the beta-sheets in spider silk are significant to its strength, but how the sheets are created is scantily comprehended, making it difficult to produce synthetic variations. It is hard to comprehend the process: the silk is originally produced as soluble proteins, which very swiftly crystalize into a solid form.

To explain this, the CSRS scientists obtained silk proteins using genetically altered bacteria that can generate silk from a golden orb-web spider (Nephila clavipes) and then executed multifaceted examinations of the soluble proteins. They discovered that the reiterating area is comprised of two designs – unsystematic spirals and a design called polyproline type II helix. Their investigations confirmed that the polyproline type II helix is critical for the creation of the stiff construction, which can then be rapidly converted into beta-sheets, letting the silk be swiftly intertwined. Fascinatingly, it was discovered that pH – which is supposed to be significant for the molecular exchanges of the N- and C- terminus areas – does not play a significant role of the foldup of the recurring areas, and that it is rather the elimination of water and mechanistic forces through the silk gland.

According to Keiji Numata, who is a project leader of JST ImPACT and led the research group, “Spider silk is a wonderful material, as it is extremely tough but does not contain harmful substances and is readily biodegradable, so it does not exert any harmful load on the environment”. Numata hopes that this discovery may lead to the production of artificial silk that will prove useful for society.

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