#i mean aside from being willing to abandon her in the dream. idk if that's 100% accurate to how they acted. | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

jamiedc-they-them · 4 years

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Who you used to (and can no longer) be (Platonic)

Requested Imagine: Dany x Brother reader, maybe reader was caught by Cersei and is reunited with Dany. idk its a stretch but it came to mind. it can be angsty or nah whatever u want, B

It had been a while since you’d seen anything but the small reflection of light from a torch on the cell door. It had been a while since you had heard anything but the rats in the cell that you were thrown into months ago or the creaks of the door or the rustles of your chains.

You got a new sound, that being of the door opening. You also got a bit lighter, for a moment that was. The door was then slammed closed, and a voice that was anything but new spoke.

“Still awake? Hm, I have to give you the fact that you’ve lasted longer than I thought you would,” The taunting voice of Cersei Lannister spat as she approached you, goblet of wine in her hand as always, “Then again, you were always the odd one out, weren’t you? The little Targaryen runt? I do have to wonder though, what your whore of a sister will do to get you back?”

She came even closer to you, now towering over you, “See, the families all live up to their sigils, don’t they? Lannister’s as lions who tear their enemies apart; the Starks, the lucky wolves in a pack who can survive the winter; then there’s the Targaryen’s,” She poured the wine onto you, aggravating your wounds.

“As the feisty, fiery dragons, with so many scars. What’s one more though? Although, I’m sure to your sister, it would make all the difference between you being worth saving and you being left behind to rot. But we’ll see.”

It had been a while since Danny had been able to sleep. It had been a while since she had been able to think straight and not have her mind on something other than the fact that her brother was still missing.

It had gotten to the point where she had accidentally called Jorah, Y/N. The man hadn’t minded, of course, he politely corrected her and moved on. Still, it showed. It showed how much of her mind was chipping away at a plan to get you back and safe.

“My Queen,” Daenerys turned to Tyrion, the one who had called her name, “Maybe we should make preparations for when we get Lord Y/N….Make preparations for as to how to proceed.” He suggested, struggling to find a correct way to phrase it without triggering and setting her off.

“What do you mean?” She questioned, blunt and with a bit of fear and tremble in her voice.

He looked to the others for a moment before proceeding, “I just mean, that Lord Y/N will not fully be the same Y/N we knew before his capture…We’ll need to tread lightly. He will be traumatized.”

“But he’s still my brother.” Danny said without hesitation, firmly.

“He doesn’t mean it in offence, your grace,” Missandei said, trying to clear things up, “What he – we mean, is that Y/N will be different, and we need to be aware of that.”

Danny nodded, “We will, but I know Y/N, and I will do what is best for him.”

They didn’t meet eyes, but the others could tell that it wasn’t exactly true. She’d work on a phantom form of you.

One that didn’t exist anymore.

“Your grace!” A soldier said as he entered the throne room, holding a folded piece of paper, “I have….” He took a moment to catch his breath, have you seen how many steps their were to get to the throne room?

“.I have news on Y/N, Cersei Lannister has him! She wants to meet!” He yelled, giving a brief synopsis of the letter.

Wow, this really wasn’t royal at all, was it?

Then again, the soldier seemed to know that, when it came to you and your safety, royalty was thrown out the window.

Daenerys stared at the soldier in shock. It seemed that the plan that she had devised on her own was also out the window.

“It’s obviously a trap, if anyone knows my sister well enough to know one of her devious schemes, it’s me.” Tyrion made his thoughts on it known. Don’t go.

“Of course, it is,” Grey worm then turned to Danny, “You shouldn’t go, my Queen. Or, if you do, at least bring some guards with you. I’ll find you my best men –”

“No,” Her words stunned all the room, “Cersei asks for me, she gets me alone. I’m not risking Y/N: I’m not losing the only family I have left.”

She knew it was risky. She knew that this could just be something that would end up with the two last Targaryen’s being killed. But she also knew that she couldn’t just leave you.

She had to bring you home, to make you feel safe once again.

It was the dead of night but hearing Tyrion gasp and knock chairs over made everyone rush to the meeting room. There, it held everyone bar one.

Daenerys.

“She left.” He announced in a solemn tone.

There was no stopping her now.

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Being the youngest made Daenerys’ motherly side show itself so much more than it ever had. Or, unfortunately, more than she ever got the chance to show it. Losing her child was hard, don’t get her wrong; to lose a life she would never know and that would be her own by blood and fix the mistakes.

Now, you were that. You were the thing she had to protect, no matter what. It had started with your brother, his abuse that went more to you as a way to punish her; two birds and all that.

Her maternal instincts made her help comfort you; it helped her help treat your wounds; it helped her be more empathetic; it helped her get through it, putting her mind of helping her younger sibling through the pain kind of helped her through her own.

She had to admit, the small crew she had brought for the boat did a good job. Was it the most royal of arrivals? No, but she couldn’t play the trump card of the dragons yet. She had to get you back with as little hassle as possible.

Power play’s from her could wait. It could wait until she had you to help council her on it. You were always a smart one smarter than her and always willing to listen to others while arguing your own view.

She was losing it, she had to admit. Hell, she’d sailed all the way with barely any protection, so that wasn’t nothing. Still, if this was it, she didn’t want to make it worse for you.

If this was it, at least you’d be together in the end. The Targaryen siblings vs the world; the world might win, but it wouldn’t win without you both giving it one last chilling smile of acceptance.

“You’re hear to see Queen Cersei?” The guardsman asked. If he had any other right to speak, he probably would’ve mentioned the lack of guards. Still, part of Daenerys appreciated the fact that he didn’t, that he simply let it go and led her up at her nod.

Yes, she was here to see the queen. No, she was not there to burn it all down.

At least, not yet, anyway.

The stones were sharper here. In Dragonstone, it had a smoothness to them that made it feel like you were almost gliding on them. It definitely helped make it not feel as big as it did, steps wise.

These were different, these were jagged and edgy; small bits pointing out that dug in a few instances. Definitely not well kept.

Still, that was put aside when she reached the top. In reaching it, she saw you on the floor. She finally got a good look at you. In the dreams (and nightmares) she’d have of finding you, it’d always be you either looking normal or you being too bloodied to recognise.

This was a mix but leaning a lot more towards the dreams than the nightmares (which, unfortunately, came more often than the dreams did). You were bloody, just in your nose and a cut on your lips; your eyes weren’t too bad, if not a little fucked up from punching.

Over than that though, you were breathing and alive. When you met eyes, you looked scared more than relived. Then again, she was riding a high of relief at just seeing that you were ok.

Now came the part where she kept you and herself that way.

“I must admit, I didn’t expect you to arrive,” Cersei said as she sipped her wine, “Then again, when one of your flock are hurt, the others huddle around them, don’t they?” She taunted.

However, the fire in her eyes died a little when she saw that it was just Danny, “Came alone, did you? It could’ve been a trap.”

Still could be, “It may have been, but I wasn’t going to just abandon my brother. Just as I’m sure you wouldn’t.” She knew it was borderline flattery. But she had to not piss her off.

“Are you alright, Y/N?” Danny asked, fire completely gone from her eyes and a soft gaze replaced it; one filled with love and familial concern. She was dead certain that these types of looks (ones of comfort and respect and love) were something that you had been sorely missing.

There was silence at her answer. You looked as if you hadn’t even heard her question. She, however, didn’t lose hope. You were still in there somewhere.

“Boy,” You looked to Cersei with a shaking body, “Answer your sister.” She commanded.

You looked at Danny, eyes fearful and slightly unfocused. You only nodded, all-be-it slowly.

“Verbally.” Cersei said, not in a snap, but a calm voice.

“I’m alive.” You croaked out.

“Louder.”

“I’m ok.” Your words finally reached Danny, and she could hear just how unused your voice had been. It was raw, and it had cracked.

She could see that you clearly weren’t. But she could deal with that later.

“Why did you ask for me if it wasn’t a trap?” Daenerys asked.

Cersei paused, her face showing that it was a valid question, “Because, I wanted you to see what a broken Targaryen looks like. The mess that they can be. The pain that they can be in. You see, when you do fully come here, to try and take what you believe is yours, maybe you’ll remember this.”

“He hit me.” You were shaken, still shaking as you sat on your bed and your older sister knelt in front of you.

She took your shaking hands in her own, “He did, yes.” She said, regretfully.

“Why? What did I do to make him hate me.” Your question broke her heart a little.

“You did nothing, dear brother. Nothing. It’s all his ego,” She comforted. She knew, sadly, that the damage had been done. But she knew one thing, she wasn’t going to let it destroy you.

Not you.

“You can have him,” Danny looked at Cersei in shock, “Take it as a warning. As a precautionary tale.”

Danny didn’t waste any time in coming to you and picking you up. She didn’t look at Cersei, only you. She then hugged you. You stiffened but didn’t hug back. She didn’t seem to mind much though. She just held you tightly.

She had you, and you were back with those you belonged with.

Now she just had to return home.

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The ride back, you sat in your room. Well, you laid in your bed, more like. You only ate when she would bring you food. She wanted to be the one to do it, she knew that you wouldn’t respond to anyone else.

She didn’t try and get you to speak. She knew that you wouldn’t want to and trying to force you to would only lead to more problems.

Still, at least she didn’t have to order the crew not to bother you: they seemed to just know from the get-go.

“I have no choice in this.” She told you, trying to not allow her voice to tremble and show you the fear she felt. She had to be strong for you.

“I can’t just lose you.” You said in quiet voice. Your fear ruled you. Whenever you had been hurt, she had been there to help you; to help you rise back up when you fell.

Now, that would be gone.

She glided to you, kneeling once more to your level. She put her fingers under your chin and lifted it up, “Whatever happens, we go together. I’m never leaving you, little brother. Never. I’ll protect you as much as I can.” She promised you and pulled you into her arms.

You hugged her back, fearfully.

The boat arrived, and there stood four or so angry advisors. Well, angry and relieved. Danny walked slowly, holding your hand and arm, and helping you walk down the ramp. She had almost not done this, as you had flinched and pulled your arm away when she went to touch.

However, after a moment, you had allowed it. She led you down, fully concentrated on your wellbeing. She didn’t take any notice of her friends. She only said one thing to you.

“We’re home.”

The tent was big, but that didn’t matter to you. It was lonely. You were lonely. However, you didn’t tell her; you knew she had enough on her plate, and your issues would only add to that.

“Hey,” You looked up at her soft eyes that seemed to notice your turmoil, “We’ll be fine. We’ll make it through this to the other side, together. I promise, you’ll be fine.”

“I kept it the same. I didn’t want to touch anything just in case you wanted to make any changes yourself.” You nodded mutely as you entered your room. In the past, it would be a place of comfort, a place where you could feel almost free. This was not that. This place felt foreign and the warmth was something you were used to, just in a torturous way.

The first thing you did was close the curtains.

“You used to love that in the morning.” Your sister didn’t know why she said those words; but she still had.

“Maybe, but not anymore.” You used to be quiet, but this was the quietest she’d heard you.

She remembered the first time she had been forced to have sex with Drogo. The way he was in charge and she whimpered. She had still been holding out some sort of hope that she could get away from his.

She knew she wouldn’t be able to. She knew she had to adapt.

So, she did. She gave into it. She gave into him. Deep down, she was still the scared little girl who had been dealing with her own trauma. But that girl was repressed more and more.

In the name of survival.

She had woken on a brand-new day. She woke up with some vigour this time, just happy to have everything back to normal in a way.

She got up and ready for the day, taking in the view from her room.

She then left to fetch you. She felt like a walk would maybe help you a little. They had in the past after all.

However, when she knocked on your door, she received no answer.

“Y/N, it’s me.” She said softly, hoping that announcing that would help you.

Still, the door did not open.

When she went to knock again, she stopped herself when she put her ear to the door only to hear nothing inside.

She put her hand on the handle, turning it. It went all the way; the door was unlocked.

She opened it fully, and her eyes widened, and her breath quickened at what she saw, an empty room.

She didn’t think she could run this fast, yet here she was. She was yelling orders, “Find Y/N!” Was the main one she was able to track.

You were missing again, but this time it was voluntary.

Now, she just figure out where you had gone. Where you had taken yourself to.

She stopped, letting oxygen fill her lungs. As she took deep gulps, she pressed her back against a wall and took a moment to think; to actually think.

“Come on!” You cried out in excitement as you led your sister by the hand to your destination.

“Slow down, Y/N.” She tried to be serious, but your happiness made her have a smile of her own at your enthusiasm. You had always been a more pessimistic one, but these moments that could last for a while and bursts of happiness made herself happy.

“Here.” You said, stopping and lowering your hands, pulling her towards you.

Ahead of you laid a lake. It wasn’t the largest, or the deepest. But, still, a small lake was a small lake.

The sun seemed to catch the water just right and it shimmered.

“Oh, Y/N, it’s beautiful.” She said, softly. She took the view in. This beat anything from her window for sure.

That was the day before you were taken. It was a memory that she both played over and over again, but also wanted nothing to do with it.

Now it was the key.

She knew where you were now. Only thing was, the context of your visit had changed. Just like you had had.

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She was right, you were there. You were sat down instead of stood. She watched you for a moment. Actually, saw you for who you were now. Yes, you were still her brother, but you had changed.

She approached you, taking a seat next to you. For once, she didn’t try to force anything. Instead, she just looked at the view, taking in the head and the peacefulness of the place. It was nice.

“I started to have visions while I was there,” She was the now the one looking up at you. However, she didn’t talk, “I couldn’t tell you when I started to do that. It just kind of….happened. Moments where I would see things that a rational part of me knew wasn’t there, but that part was destroyed by the part that wanted it to be real.”

“Who did you see?”

“A mix of you and the others. To be honest, mostly you,” You looked at her as you continued, “You’ve always been the one to look after me. And I appreciate it, so much. But, since I got back, it’s….it’s just been too much. You’re acting as if I’ll snap right back to who I was, but I won’t. I can’t.” You confessed.

“I know….I know,” She let her voice shake this time. She wasn’t going to hide her emotions anymore. You were old enough and knew enough about to world to know the feelings she had, the fear, the pain, and the loss.

“I’m sorry that I did that.”

“We’ll get there. We’ll get there.” You assured; but it seemed it was more so for yourself.

“What can I do right now?” She asked.

“Just….just stay.”

“Of course.” She assured.

#daenerys targaryen #daenerys targaryen imagine #daenerys targeryan x reader #game of thrones #game of thrones imagine #game of thrones x reader

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whump-my-dear-watson · 5 years

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Whumptober day no.27+28+altno.16

"bound" "ransom" "beaten"

Character: Malcolm Bright

Fandom: Prodigal Son

Word Count: 3k

Summary: Malcolm is taken for ransom, but his captor isn’t after money…

A/N: ok I really love writing for this show, but apparently, I can only write about Prodigal Son whump in a warehouse? Idk man, I always come back to it. Anyway, enjoy this one lads!

Warnings: uh blood, capture (I mean look at the prompts), depressed Malcolm (what’s new? lol) near-death experience, the last part is really heavy on the subject of death but (spoiler) he doesn’t die :P, hrmm besides just generally being whumpy I can’t think of any other warnings (for sure let me know if I should add somthn tho)

Malcolm wakes with a start, feeling the restraints around his wrists like usual. It’s not until he opens his eyes he realizes they are not his restraints. Panic was beginning to set in, his confusion feeding into it more than anything else.

Malcolm had found himself sitting bound to a metal chair in the middle of what appeared to be an abandoned warehouse. From his perspective he was alone. He took a big breath in and then let it out.. He had to focus. How long had he been out? Was this about a case? Had to be.

Malcolm tried to pull against his restraints, no luck. For the time being, until he could think of a plan, he was trapped.

“You’re awake. Good.”

The voice came from behind, but before Malcolm could turn to see, the younger man had stepped into his vision. He was hardly 20 Malcolm mused, not the first profile he would have pegged.

The young man looked academic, a pair of sturdy glasses to go along with his knit sweater. This whole essence gave off a vibe, but Malcolm couldn’t quite place it.

“Hello Malcolm Whitley.”

Malcolm couldn’t help but flinch at the use of his father’s last name. His heart started to beat faster, maybe this wasn’t just about a case.

“What do you want from me?” he asked, doing his best to appear calm. He had to keep the upper hand, if one could have the upper hand while unwillingly bound to a chair.

“Why, you are going to help me a great deal, Malcolm.” the young man’s face was earnest but malicious.

With every second he was forming a better idea of what his captor was, what motivated him, what caused him to take action, but all his revelations he came to all led to the same conclusion: he was in trouble.

“You are such a disappointment, you know?”

This caught Malcolm off guard, “What do you know about me?”

“Ha! What don’t I know about you, Malcolm Whitley? You betrayed your own father, your own flesh and blood!” the crazed man stood in front of Malcolm, proclaiming this as if Malcolm had personally offended him.

“He was a monster.”

“He was a master. He was an artist, really Malcolm? What makes you think he deserves to be trapped all alone? Suffering for showing his true self to the world? What ever happened to loving your neighbor?”

Malcolm’s face rolled back in disgust, the ever familiar nausea of thinking about his father making a show again.

Malcolm knew he could debate with this kid all day, about how there is never an excuse to kill 23 people, but from the looks of it, it would just fall on deaf ears.

“Luckily, thanks to you, he won’t be trapped anymore.” the young man’s face morphed into a smile as Malcolm’s stomach dropped.

“What do you- what are you-” Malcolm couldn’t think clearly. He was only safe because of those 4 walls that his father was unable to cross. He couldn’t breathe. “What are you going to do?”

“It’s what you’re going to do.”

And with his words ringing in his ears the young man took a step closer to Malcolm, before hitting him straight across the face, brass knuckles inflicting most of the pain, and the loss of consciousness.

***

Gil finally found a moment to sit down and actually enjoy his coffee, he sighed content for a moment. The silence of the station almost lulling him into a mid-day nap, almost.

He was jostled out of his break by a pounding on his office door. Gil sighed, of course, he couldn’t catch a moment. “Come in,”

Dani Powell entered, a yellow package in hand. “You need to see this.” Her expression was grim, “This came for the station. It was scanned. No bomb or anything, but honestly it might be worse.”

Gil thought to himself what ‘might be worse’ than a bomb, but he pushed that aside to inspect the laptop that was in the package.

“There was no password.” Dani paused before opening the laptop, unsure of what to say next. “It was only streaming one thing, a live camera.”

Gil’s eyebrow’s rose, he still wasn’t sure exactly why this was his problem, it was New York City. Strange things happened, a live feed to a camera is not the worse thing to be sent to a police station.

It wasn’t until Dani pulled up the video did Gil fully understand. His face drained of all color, the taste of coffee in his mouth going sour. Displayed on the video monitor was a dark screen, but he was able to make out the figure laying slumped in the chair, hardly moving. He couldn’t form words for a moment. He had so many questions, the biggest if he was okay, was his kid okay?

“Bright. What did you get yourself into?” he mumbled before sinking into his chair.

His hand on his chin he wore a far away expression. Dani looked unsure if to talk, but had to give more information.

“It’s live, I put some people on tracking it, but whoever set it was smart. We’ve had no luck. Maybe with more time-but Lieutenant, it’s not looking good. Gil nodded. From a law enforcement perspective, he knew what had to happen, but Bright was his blind spot. He swallowed before giving Dani a direction, he couldn’t make any mistakes on this one.

“Make sure that’s being monitored at all time, I’m going to take a Tarmel to Bright’s place to see if we can turn anything up. Let me know as soon as anything changes.”

“Will do boss,” Dani nodded before exiting the room. Gil stared blankly at his office wall, willing it all to be a dream. For himself to wake up in his office chair having nodded off, Bright to be hounding him about another case. But this was real life. And this was a real problem.

***

Malcolm was awoken to a bucket of cold water poured over him, he whipped his head to get it out of his eyes, but without his hands to wipe the water, it continued to drip into his eyes. This was worse than the punches. Malcolm could handle a beating, but when it came to his eyes he couldn’t have anything covering them, he had to be able to see, he had to be able to perceive, it was all he was good at…

He supposed that he was lucky that his captor’s intent wasn't to torture him, with all he knew about him that could get pretty messy pretty quick. By the time the water ran off his eyes and he was able to see again he noticed there was a change, specifically a small tripod set up to the left of him, the camera atop flashing a steady red telling him that it was recording.

That didn’t look good for him.

Before he could get too far away with his imagination the young man showed himself to him again.

“We’re one step closer to our goal, right Malcolm?” he said turning away from Malcolm to give a cheesy grin into the camera.

Malcolm figured that meant he was ransom. Or being used for ransom, whatever the proper term was he couldn’t think over the pounding of his head and the incessant voice of his captor trailing on.

“As you can see, I have someone here with me today. A very special someone, who made a terrible mistake a while ago. Now he’s going to fix it.”

The man approached Malcolm, still talking into the camera. “If I’m not being clear enough, you release the genius Doctor Martin Whitley, or his disgrace of a son dies.”

Malcolm half expected the next hit, this one knocking him and his chair onto the floor.

He had to admit that it did hurt, but Malcolm assumed it was more for dramatic effect than his pain. That might be coming later.

***

Gil replayed the clip that Dani had sent him on his phone, of the threat, of Malcolm being thrown into the ground. Gil couldn’t help himself but to replay it again, it couldn’t decide if this was better or worse than when he had seen the video last.

At least Bright was awake, he thought. He was alive and breathing, beaten and bruised, but alive. Then again, whoever the maniac that was holding him seemed completely unhinged, and not very patient.

It wasn’t even Gil’s decision, if they could release Martin for Malcolm, they had a pretty strict “don’t negotiate with terrorists” policy, and no matter how much he cared for the hostage, there were no special circumstances.

Gil pocketed his phone, he couldn’t stomach another rewatch, somehow he was putting all the blame on himself again. If he was keeping a closer eye on Bright then no one would have gotten the chance to do this, but he couldn’t help it if the kid didn’t let anyone in. Or was that just another excuse?

With a frustrated sigh Gil gave up with his self quarrel. He studied Malcolm’s loft. It was all he could do. His hands were tied with Martin, and there was still no luck with tracking the source of the video. How many empty warehouses could there really be in New York? Too many, he thought. Too many.

“Has anyone talked to Martin yet?” JT asked him.

Gil shook his head, “No. There’s nothing we can do, even if we could let him go, we shouldn’t. It would be too dangerous to the world.”

“What about if he could ID Malcolm’s captor?” JT asked, “He’s a freak, so I’m sure he keeps tabs on all of his obsessors, I mean the man probably has a scrapbook titled, ‘my fans’.”

“That’s a good idea. Take Powell. I’m going to stay here...there has to be something we’ve missed.” Gil started to drift off again.

JT put a reassuring hand on his shoulder, “We’re going to get him.”

“But will it be in time?”

***

Malcolm kept his eyes closed now, when he controlled when he couldn’t see it actually helped him. Take his mind off of things anyway, of his busted lip and bleeding face, his most likely broken ribs and his captor that didn’t seem to be losing any momentum.

He would do this annoying countdown for the camera, telling them and Malcolm before he would receive another hit. But Malcolm could rise above it, after all, didn’t he deserve it? If it weren’t for him the Surgeon would be old news from yesterday's paper, but his constant presence only seemed to dredge up the past even more.

“Why-” Malcolm paused to spit a mouthful of blood. “are you doing this? What does Martin mean to you?”

The younger man smiled briefly at Malcolm’s question. “Martin is my, well, father in many ways. Or, I am his son. At least, his son that respects and doesn’t disappoint him.”

Malcolm’s face creased in confusion. “How do you figure that he’s your father?”

“I was born in 1998. The same day the Surgeon was arrested. My disgrace of a birth father had abandoned my mother in the hospital, the same day Martin’s disgrace of a birth son abandoned him to the police. We were a match sewn by fate.”

“You’re delusional.”

“I am the only one seeing clearly!” he raised his voice.

Malcolm shook his head, blood dripping down his temple. “You want him? You want him as a father? You want him haunting your every waking moment? You can have him!” Malcolm matched his tone.

The young man shook with rage, “You don’t even know what you have.”

“What I have? I have issues! I have so many issues, because he not only killed 23 people, he ruined all of our lives! I’ve lived my whole life trying to get away from him, and now here I sit, about to die to release him! Can’t you see that this insane?!”

Malcolm broke down, drowning in his own anger which morphed to a sob. He almost forgot that he was being recorded. Hopefully, no one was watching.

The man was practically seething and Malcolm sunk back into his chair. It was no use. There was simply no talking his way out of this one. There was no way out of this one.

***

Gil looked down at his phone buzzing. He didn’t know if he could handle another clip of a video, but he answered the phone anyway.

Dani was on the other line, “We have a lead!” she practically shouted, and for a moment...Gil allowed himself to hope.

“We’ve been analyzing the video and Malcolm got his captor to start talking about himself, he was born the same day the Surgeon was arrested and has been obsessed with him as his father for some reason. Weirdness aside, we got a real lead with his birthdate and a current picture. JT and I have had no luck with Martin, he claims he had ‘no idea he was so popular’. I wanted to sock him in the face,” Dani said the last bit quieter but Gil smiled.

They had a chance. Standing up from Malcolm’s bed he rushed the door, they had a sick man to arrest and their man to save.

***

“We’ve spent a great deal of time here, haven’t we Malcolm? No dice though. No word that the Surgeon has been released.” the young man smiled.

“Have I really just misjudged your importance? Or do you really just have no friends? Either way, Malcolm Whitley, you haven’t been doing it.”

Malcolm leaned his head back and looked to the ceiling. It was too late to try to fight him, he was too injured and weak. But who's to say he ever would’ve been able to hold his own?

“Last count down everyone.” the man said, then the clicking of a bullet being loaded into the chamber echoed through the warehouse.

Malcolm couldn’t hide the tear that slipped down his face. He wasn’t sure why he was crying, it was finally happening. He was finally going to die. Maybe it was because he was going to die because of his father, or because he could never see his team again, his friends.

“Ten minutes folks. What are you going to do? Are you going to watch me blow Malcolm Whitley’s brains all over this place, or are you going to release the doctor?”

Malcolm had tuned him out at this point. He only wished that he had one more day. To hug his sister, to thank Gil, to tell Dani, JT and Edrisa how much working with them had shaped his life. However short. He would tell his mother that he forgave her. She was awful as a parent, but he couldn’t hold that over her now. Now that he was going to die broadcasted to the whole world.

His only hope was that they looked away. That they didn’t watch him die. Then again, what did it matter? They would be the ones that found him. Would Edrisa do his autopsy? Would the team be assigned to his murder? Would his father cry when he heard? What about Ainsley? She was so vulnerable right now, would she be assigned to do a story on him? On the way that he died?

“7 minutes!”

Malcolm couldn’t help himself diving deep into his thoughts, entertain them because this might be his last chance. He didn’t really want to think about it. Now that it was becoming a reality it wasn’t as gracious as he had thought it would be. Death. He had been surrounded by death all his life, it’s not like he could avoid it though. Could anyone?

“3 minutes, you better hope that he gets released soon, I’m serious about this gun Malcolm...”

Malcolm shut his eyes, he would close them on his terms. Not when the bullet hit him. He was supposed to choose. Not some stranger in a warehouse. Him.

“60 seconds, well, it was nice knowing you. Now you get to die as the disgrace you turned yourself into that day.”

The gunshot rang though the warehouse making Malcolm jump.

His face was twitching uncontrollably, his eyes still squeezed shut. It didn’t hurt as much as he’d thought. Death.

He was still shaking, unable to open his eyes.

“Bright!” called a familiar voice from across the room.

Gil.

Malcolm hesitantly opened his eyes to see Gil and what seemed to be the whole of the department surrounding him.

Malcolm’s eyes followed the blood splatter to his captor laying face-first on the ground.

It was over. It was really over.

“Bright, are you okay?” Gil asked rushing to undo his binds.

All Malcolm could do was nod, it was all too much. He had come to terms with death, and now yet again he was left shaking and broken, but this time, not alone.

“Let’s get you to the hospital,” Gil said directing Malcolm towards the awaiting ambulance.

Malcolm took his shaking hands and ran them through his blood-stained hair. He stopped in his tracks, and when Gil turned to stop with him Malcolm put both his arms around him and said exactly what he had been meaning to for the past 20 years.

“Thank you,”

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theprodigypenguin · 5 years

Text

TCC Headcanons (part two)

More headcanons, this time featuring a bunch of Teddy because I love him so much and he deserves all the attention! Of course there’s mostly Scorbus because I’m a trashbag for them. I’ll probably add on a third part of headcanons soon, because I’m starting to get very attached to the Jeddy ship as well.

Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3

Albus isn't remarkably skilled with spells or potions, but he CAN conjure a patronus charm by fifth or sixth year.

It's more powerful than even Harry's.

His patronus takes the shape of a dragon, which embodies his personality (hot blooded, impulsive, bites a lot, but powerful in his own way and deserving of respect, etc), and references his future as a Magizoologist.

Of course he thinks of Scorpius and recalls memories of Scorpius to conjure the charm, and it gets stronger and more powerful as he gets older and gains more memories.

Scorpius' patronus takes the shape of a phoenix, which embodies his loyalty, wisdom, inner strength, and longing to heal people from injuries and curses.

Though aviary creatures are his favorite, Albus refuses to work with Augery's.

He and Scorpius are pretty much the same height, accept maybe a centimeter difference of Albus being taller.

Delphini is an unregistered animagus (she can fly without a broom, she's clearly powerful enough to have perfected the transformation into an animagus, and I'm willing to bet she doesn't need a wand to cast spells either).

Her animagus is an Augery, of course.

Neville is? The best God damn professor? In the fucking school??????

Albus absolutely adores him and just chills in his office sometimes cuz that's his godfather and I'll be DAMNED if they don't have a great relationship you can fight me on that.

Lily is super good at Transfiguration and will 100% eventually work towards becoming a registered animagus.

Both Lysander and Lorcan work with their parents as Magizoologists and editors/photographers for the Quibbler.

They're notable for photographing magical beasts and writing more modern pieces about them.

They've also been known to tag along with Albus on some of his later adventures as a dragon keeper/Magizoologist to document his work.

Teddy Lupin eventually becomes an Auror like his mother.

His specialty is in potion making but he can do just about everything.

He's super involved in the equal rights movement for lycanthrope afflicted wizards and witches.

In honor of his father and what he went through, he works towards making Wolfsbane Potion more affordable for the afflicted.

Teddy himself is an expert at preparing and brewing the advanced potion, and keeps a few bottles on him at all times, just in case.

He keeps his hair wild colors most of the time, because without the camouflage he looks too much like Remus and it makes him incredibly depressed.

Whenever Harry or Andromeda see him as he is, they give weak and broken smiles, ones of pity and longing, and it tears him up inside.

He carries around a silver locket engraved with a wolf on the outside.

Inside is a picture of his parents, and a small music box fit into the other side that plays a lullaby tune his mother used to sing with to get him to sleep.

He swears sometimes he can still hear her, and Remus, singing to him.

His patronus is a wolf.

He's actually pretty protective of Scorpius.

This is likely due to the fact Teddy doesn't have many blood relatives left, and treasures the ones that he does have.

He loves Harry and considers the extended Potter-Weasley-Granger-Etc family to be his, but there's just something to be said about blood.

Plus Scorpius is precious and deserves to be adored and loved and treasured anyway.

He spent a few years (between the ages of twelve and fifteen) simply hating his parents, in complete denial of their deaths and "abandonment", but slowly grows out of it and is very proud of them and their sacrifice.

One of his most prized possessions is the gold medal of the Order of Merlin that Kingsley Shacklebolt awarded Remus after the Battle of Hogwarts, which he keeps close to his bedside and holds when he's feeling particularly lonely or at a loss of what he's doing with his life.

Despite the age difference, James is basically his best friend.

He was one of the first people to hold him when he was born and has adored him ever since.

During his first year at school, James had trouble getting used to things, so Teddy gave him one of his house scarves.

James would wear it and cling to it when he was anxious like he was holding Teddy's hand.

He luckily grew out of his anxiety after a few months, but kept the scarf.

Teddy calls him Jamie most the time, Jim if he wants to make him mad or piss him off, and only calls him James if he's upset/angry and needs to get his attention or wants to scold him.

In TCC when he sees James with pink hair, he changes his hair color to pink to match and make him feel better.

Albus always runs off after one of his unfortunately common arguments with their father, but always goes to the same place to cool down, and James always, always goes after him to talk.

It takes a lot of bad jokes and puns to get Albus to follow him back home, James doesn't quite know how to give him brotherly advice aside from trying to make him laugh, but being there for Albus, always following him when he runs away from home, is enough.

James was generally inconsolable when Albus went missing from the train, because for the first time he didn't know where his brother was and couldn't follow him to bring him back.

Teddy is an expert at wandless magic and silent spells (just like Remus), and can cast some of the most advanced spells and charms, or make some of the most advanced potions, without much difficulty.

I kind of??? See him??? Becoming Minister of Magic after Hermione?????? ((After him I see Scorpius MAYBE becoming Minister, but I haven't decided how I feel about that idea yet)).

Listen to "If You Could See Me Now" by The Script and cry over Teddy never meeting Remus so I'm not the only one suffering plz.

Teddy did not inherit Remus' Lycanthropy, but I headcanon he did inherit something I'm calling a Moon Sickness.

He is not a werewolf, but around every full moon he gets incredibly tired and fatigued, and has terrible nightmares.

Teddy is unexpectedly talented in astronomy, divination, and runes.

As if his father's blood connection to the moon, sky, and stars, gave him the gift of what Trelawney calls "the sight".

He isn't a Seer like she is, but his dreams are too convenient to ignore.

He tells himself dreams are all they are and has only expressed his suspicions about them to James (and maybe to Victoire idk).

Seemingly skilled at everything he attempts, but Teddy has a remarkably difficult time conjuring a patronus the first time.

Every time he tried he would just think of his parents and end up completely unable to make so much as a blue spark.

When he does manage to make a corporeal Patronus for the first time, it takes the form of a wolf, just like his mother and fathers, and he cries.

After the first time, he starts to conjure the wolf just to look at it, and pretends it's the spirit of his parents there to protect him.

Scorpius' boggart is Delphini.

Albus' boggart is Scorpius dead from the killing curse (his boggart is accompanied by the bright green light).

Teddy's boggart is himself, or some form of himself that he's scared of becoming.

As he is the only known child of a werewolf and a human, a hybrid that hasn't existed before, some people have taken a particular interest in Teddy.

Some of Fenrir's supporters from the second war managed to get away from execution and prison and went under ground, but they too have taken an interest in Teddy.

Some people think his blood, his DNA, could hold the secret to a cure for Lycanthropy.

It's a false, pointless belief and hope, not based on fact, entirely impossible, but that doesn't stop the werewolves from looking into it, wanting to experiment just to test their theory.

James' patronus is a dog (I honestly see him tilting towards being similar to Sirius in terms of loyalty rather than being similar to his grandfather idk why).

After the Delphini incident, the ministry kept her existence tightly under wraps to keep the wizarding community from falling into an all out panic.

And to keep Voldermort supporters and dark wizards from gaining confidence against the ministry and the Aurors.

Her arrest was never publicized in the Daily Prophet.

However, this also means the rumor of Scorpius being the Dark Lord's son continued to plague him at school.

Reporters claim a silly "harmless" rumor is less damaging than actually telling people their suspicions are correct and that one of the most dangerous dark wizards of all time had a CHILD.

Draco was furious upon learning the ministry's decision to withhold the truth about her, but Scorpius decided he agreed and claimed it was fine.

That he'd rather suffer through school for a few more years than watch panic ensue because of Delphini.

Because that was exactly what she wanted, and Scorpius would be damned if he allowed her the satisfaction of knowing people feared her.

Because of this, when his boggart changed into her, only Albus (and maybe the teacher), knew who she was.

The class laughed at him because why would his greatest fear be some pretty older woman?

Albus cast the Riddikulus charm before the boggart could finish changing, because he knew what it would be, and didn't want Scorpius to see himself lying dead on the ground.

The teacher scolds him for prematurely casting the spell, but he doesn't care, so long as he doesn't have to do it again.

The professor tries to make him but he refuses, so he’s given detention, but he honestly does not care.

He just doesn’t want to see Scorpius dead, even if it’s just a Boggart.

He has enough nightmares about losing Scorpius without a Boggart fucking him up.

Albus tops in the relationship.

#scorbus #jeddy #tames #albus severus potter #scorpius hyperion malfoy #james serius potter #or is it sirius man i can't remember #teddy lupin #headcanon #tcc headcanons #scorbus headcanons #boggart #patronus #gaey #the potter triune

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6ad6ro · 5 years

Text

um so… i woke up thinking of this old friend. she was like best friends w my bad ex? like i used to hang out w her like crazy. she was rly nice? mostly? tho she def had this issue where she didn’t rly know what she wanted in life. and let other ppls warped judgements of “how ppl should act” rub off on her.

like i remember times she would more or less call me a lazy piece of shit to my face. like it was somehow “understood”? but then i’d be like “why are u calling me that?” and she wouldn’t know. bc it wasn’t her actual opinion. she liked who i was. idk she was just rly confused. i think her brother was a cop. her dad was emotionally neglecting and like conservative or militant? i remember her always wanting to smoke pot but also saying “drugs are bad™”. she was someone who u could tell always wanted to be free but was held back by the opinions of the people around her.

especially her on again off again bf? i… didn’t like him. he wanted to grow up to be a politician. he only listened to classic rock. he looked and acted like a conservative wanabee eric foreman from that 70s show, but somehow even worse. he had her convinced that her dream was to be “a loving housewife”… it made me sick. i remember how he tried to convince her to stop hanging out w her best friend and me JUST bc she smoked pot. bc “she was an evil hippie and bad”. i mean tbh she SHOULD have stopped hanging out w my bad ex, but for completely dif reasons. like he was def that kinda guy. a selfish, immature, stubborn, self-righteous idiot. but he was the first guy to ever rly like her. and she had… self esteem issues. i remember how she would… was always waiting for him to decide to wanna go out w her. she seemed so lonely.

her and i were kinda friends separately from my bad ex (lets call her “A”). so one time i remember she ended up coming over to hang w me n watch rocky horror in my room? it was rly fun tbh!! we were having a great time! it was totally innocent! but i remember at one point she like… got weird. got up. and was like “im sorry i think i’m being a bad person i gotta go”. and left? i didn’t get it at the time? or rather… i think i denied it. she clearly liked me, wanted something to happen that night, and felt like a bad friend for having those thoughts. i never asked her about it but looking back it was p obvious. also A was a control freak n just a bad person… so i wouldn’t be surprised if she told L to stay away from me. even tho A was constantly cheating on me n using everyone around her etc. idk it was complicated.

i also remember another time before her and that guy that became her bf (lets call her “l” and him “m”)… i remember there was some small party at my house and for some horribly embarrassing reason my bad ex (we were still together then) convinced me to mess around w her under a blanket in same room as our other friends? we were all v v drunk. i guess it made others in room feel v lonely n so L and this other girl started like… both making out w the one other guy in the room? it was bizarre. that kind of stuff is fine in some circumstances? but this was rly unhealthy. i remember the guy felt bad and told the other girl he had to stop bc he had always rly liked L and wanted to see where things would go w her? other girl said she was fine w it (and knowing her persona it easily was?) and he ended up napping on floor w L. next day i think she woke up, completely regretted what happened, and ran back to M. it kinda sucked for guy bc he rly cared about her but she never even was willing to talk about what had happened. to her it was just a drunken mistake (i knew she kinda liked him back but obv she was scared).

even w all that stuff, L was a constant member of our hangout group for like… 7 or 8 years straight? idk! it was always rly fun w her! even if, looking back, A constantly was ruining all our fun w her insane bullshit. i have fond memories of 3am park hangouts n just roaming around talking n going on adventures… i’d never cheat on a partner. never have, never will. but i think i did have like… feelings for L that i always ignored? that part of her that… wanted freedom? from those weird family’s/bf’s/society’s ideals that she let chain her down? it was attractive. she was a nice person just doin her best.

anyways i remember around when A and i finally broke up for good (only a month after my dad died, if u wanna know how awful of a person A was). and she ended up taking me aside n warning me that A had been cheating on w me w another guy, but it’d gotten serious w him. and A of course was lying and stringing me along so she could get money n sex from me etc. A using me was p common. but L had had enough and “betrayed A” (did a v nice thing) and told me. i think that was… really what set in motion A and i being done for good. that helped wake me up about what a horrible person A was. and had always been. i’ll always be grateful to L for that. that must’ve been hard for her. and i think her and A’s like 10 year friendship died over that. which rly was a good thing like A was a terrible person.

anyways fast forward like 2? 3?? 4 years? L had gone off to a college out of state w her boyfriend M. she… followed him around. no judgement, but it prob wasn’t good for her. i was in an apartment in another city and me and A had been DONE™ for years. i was still def hurt from the 8+ years of abuse, but i was def over her at least. seeing other ppl regularly. it was def a weird time for me but… that’s another story.

L and i hadn’t rly talked in years. i just didn’t rly associate w ppl A still hung around. i never knew her and L had stopped being friends or i prob woulda kept up w L. i don’t think L and i cut off contact on purpose, but it was just one if those “things”. but L hit me up outta the blue. was like “ back in town do u wanna hang?” and we did! it was rly nice seeing her! we went out and about. idk. we started hanging for a bit. but she… idk she clearly rly enjoyed my company? but also… had those weird judgements. idk.

one time we were hanging and she was at my place and saw all the alcohol i had layin around and was like “hey uhhh can i have some?” and i was like “hehe okay i guess we can drink” and ordered a pizza and we just hung out.

idk but before we got drunk she finally told me why she was back. M, the guy she had followed to college, had done the gross, stereotypical dude thing of breaking up w her right after they both graduated. i got a vibe he had been cheating on her all throughout too. he rly was the type. and as we drank we talked about it. i felt so bad for her. she vented all night. and idk all i remember was we were both v drunk and i think i was… idk why my head was in her lap? but she was playing w my hair. and idk. we kissed. things happened. she seemed so happy w it! i was too. i even stupidly cracked a joke “i bet A would be rly pissed if she saw us rn” and we both laughed. i always regretted sayin it tho bc its not like i was doin it to get back at A.

but i remember we were in my bed making out bc i had accidentally gotten aggressive w her n slammed her into a wall n started kissing her? so hard her nose started bleeding? i felt awful but she LOOOVED it and idk we somehow wound up in bed. idk i kinda regret this. bc… i was having a hard time around then and… just sleeping w all my friends? it just became… clockwork. i would do what i thought my friends wanted me to do regardless of how i felt. i had become kinda a slut.

so i remember like… making out but then i started to escalate things? and i think fir a split second she sobered up and was like “wait lets cool this down a little”. and i was like “okay no prob” and we both tried to go for a walk n find a park? we walked hand in hand and she kept telling me how happy she was? like how… this was the kinda stuff M would never do with her? she was just smiling a lot. it was cute. but i was so drunk n still fairly new to area, so i took her in wrong direction from the park. we ended up giving up n just walking back.

we got back in and thats i think when she sobered up mostly but i wad still out of it? and she realised her dog hadn’t been fed. it was def a partial excuse but she rly loved that dog so i could tell it was REAL guilt. i felt bad bc i tried to take her hand n go back into my room bc i wanted her to stay n cuddle? i was just drunk. i wasn’t forceful, but i shoulda been like “oh that’s fine!” but tbh i was also a touch worried she was too drunk to drive. well anyways… she left.

later we did have a looong talk about it. like… she ended up going to try and get back with M again (i still will never know what she saw in him like he rly used her n treated her bad like even going so far as to ask her advice on dating other girls after they broke up). but idk i thought she was smart enough to end things w him, and could tell her and i had feelings, so i tried to stay a lil closer than friends? idk what i told her but it was along the lines of “we can stay friends but if things happen sometimes it’s okay w me”. i look back on it w embarrassment but i guess it wasn’t that bad a thing to say?

but rly it was mostly a drunken mistake. and she was scared. and wanted to cut it off. she couldn’t end things w M like she was still torally in love w him even tho he had abandoned her. tbh i know what that’s like. well anyways i remember a few hangouts later she just… bailed on me? in a rly mean way? i had gone to pick her up from her house (idk 30 min drive each way) and she just… totally stood me up. i was parked at her house like texting her wondering where she was? and she sent me a text like “sorry something came up”. and wouldn’t tell me what happened and i got annoyed and drove home.

i have a feeling now that like M had… shown back up in her life and she sorta… threw me away to run back to him? i mean i can’t take it too personally bc she woulda done that to ANYONE. i don’t remember what happened after that but we just stopped talking again. i saw later on fb that her and M had gotten engaged or married?? idek? idk if her and i are still fb friends or if one of us blocked the other or what? i don’t remember.

but idk. i hope she’s well. i hope M got WAYYY better. or she left him. or idk. i wouldn’t even know how to contact her. i’m almost afraid to. like bc i… could see her giving up on her dreams and just being that housewife to him. even if she was mildly content doing that, i know she’d never be happy. and it’s so unlikely that he’d have grown to be good to her. i just… hope she’s doing well and is okay and happy. idk why i woke up worrying about her. it’s been so long… i’m such a dif person now. idk. time is weird.

#long

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flowisk · 6 years

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@necromin Thanks for the asks still Flowey

Why I like them

Oh... Asriel is a character who was practically written for me. I remember I fell in love with him from the very first demo of the game. He’s just this... person who looks like ‘there is no way to save him’ in a game that operates off the premise off ‘not having to kill anyone’. He is a codependent traumatized kid stuck in a loop, and I think his... desperation, especially in No Mercy, and how much... love he is brimming full of is... It’s funny because even when he ‘lacks’ love, you can see how much he cared/cares about Chara and his desperate loyalty and his willingness to go along with anyone and dependency. I felt the reveal of who he was, was just... so satisfying because with every layer unraveled around him I just grew to love him more and more. He’s kind of my dream come true... this dissociative little kid who’s presented so ‘maliciously’ and who is a ‘fake smiler’ and feels empty inside but who is truly this person worth being saved, who is... brutally sad in nature. Just... this incredible painful narrative of loss from someone who... desperately had one person to rely on. Also like... I just love this Bad Kid. Like... these two kids? Two little kids saying to each other ‘Creatures like us are so rotten, we wouldn’t hesitate to kill or betray each other’ and yet despite him saying this, you can tell Flowey has the utmost loyalty to Chara. Even though he SAYS this, the one loyalty he still has... is to Chara. Even the mere belief they could be around, regardless of any killing they do, overturns his grown apathy. His goal is never quite the same as theirs, but he would go along with any goal that makes them happy as long as he is by their side and they still think well of him. It’s this amazing... contrast that... says so much about Flowey as a character, and how he must have gotten to this point. As soon as Chara is there, you can see chips of the facade break away. This was built up to impress Chara, because he felt he was wrong and they were right and ironically when he is with them he can’t help but be a bit softer in contrast.

Why I don’t

Ugh, sometimes I’m frustrated by the soulless explanation. He just seems ND to me. Lately I’ve seen something that treated ‘soullessness’ as a sort of neurodivergence in itself, and that was compelling to me. But really I’m not fan of the ‘doesn’t have a soul’ bit because so many fans use it to be lazy and separate Flowey and Asriel as characters completely.

Favorite episode (scene if movie)

Oh... The end of the fight with Omega Flowey. And... his hallway talk with Chara in the No Mercy run, right before the protag gets to Asgore.

Favorite season/movie

Not applicable.

Favorite line

“It doesn’t matter now. I’m so tired of this, Chara. I’m tired of all these places. I’m tired of all these people. I’m tired of being a flower. Chara. There’s just one thing left I want to do. Let’s finish what we started. Let’s free everyone. Then let them see what the world is REALLY LIKE. That despite it all, this world is still ‘kill or be killed’. Then....? Well. I had been... entertaining a few ways to use that power. Hee hee hee... .... But seeing you here changed my mind. Chara... I think if you’re around... Just living in the surface world doesn’t seem so bad.” ^ This whole speech is what destroys me and no one does anything with this speech no one ever draws any lines from it except maybe ‘kill or be killed’ in variations I’m just. This speech DECIMATES me. “Why am I telling you all this? ...Chara I’ve said it before. Even after all this time, you’re the only one who understands me.” “I didn’t want to live in a world without love. In a world without you.” “I'm not ready for this to end. I'm not ready for you to leave. I'm not ready to say goodbye to someone like you again... So, please... Stop doing this... AND JUST LET ME WIN!!! STOP IT! STOP IT NOW!!! Chara... I'm so alone, Chara... I'm so afraid, Chara... Chara... I... I...” “Why are you being... so nice to me?”

Favorite outfit

I like that time he dressed up as a goat boy with a yellow and green sweater.

OTP

Chariskriel, Chariel, Friskriel

Brotp

Flowey+Papyrus

Head Canon

Oh hey it’s BPD boy. I could actually write a meta about this. I could write an essay about all the ways he demonstrates characteristics of BPD, down to Chara being his FP, his abandonment issues, his chronic emptiness, etc etc, and his rapidly circulating impulsive emotions Mains Reaper in Overwatch. I like to headcanon him as honestly... suffering through PTSD/dissociation or the monster equivalent thereof once he gets into his little flower body. Just his chronic feelings of emptiness, loaded with the fact he... literally can’t die. I mean, he CAN but suicide is a hard enough option when even flinching or having a last second doubt will cause you to still live. Chose his gender identity, in a way that actually physically effects his magic dusty body, because monsters are magic. Mama’s boy. Think this because he has that line, after visiting Asgore about how ‘not even SHE (toriel) could fix what was wrong with me’. A lot of people suggest that the first person he killed was someone close to him. But I’m willing to bet it was someone he didn’t know that well, and that he reset right after. I think it took a long time for Asriel to feel ‘liberated’ or ‘capable’ or ‘like there were no permanent consequences’ to killing, and then it just wore away until there were 0. I am sure he wishes he could reset to before him and Chara’s plan like, every day, and that though pops up in his mind every day too. (We already know he spends a lot of time calling for Chara.... “Did you hear me calling you?”)

Unpopular opinion

He’s just Asriel in a flower body. ...And I will admit, I do think he shows symptoms of abuse. I don’t think Chara intended to hurt their best friend or was intentionally manipulative but I do think they coerced him into a few things and forced his hand. Also a lot of the things Asriel says like... definitely imply those two were bad kids or occasionally did very bad things. I don’t think Asriel himself was 100% sweetness and goodness even before all the trauma. I just think you’re seeing him at a really vulnerable point where he wants to be sweet and good and leave a nice final impression. A sad breakdown where someone makes a few realizations is not the same as day to day life, and I think Asriel’s characteristics as Flowey are better for determining his character than his final speech at the end. A loquacious, mischievous brat who I love. Also like, ‘hellflower Flower’ and ‘sweet good innocent goat child’ are the two most bland and most common ways to write his character. Also honestly? I feel a lot of people pin Flowey as the ultimate evil of the game (and often drop that he’s Asriel when thinking of him in this way but...) what Flowey does is ‘what a gamer’ does. His actions are not that bad because he knows there are no consequences to them, much the same way someone playing a game knows. And I don’t just mean in a ‘no repercussions for him’ way. He also knows, that if he goes back, the dead won’t stay dead. Also people need to let Asriel have his ‘Chara wasn’t the greatest person speech’. Everyone’s always trying to act like Asriel is a dick for it, but that speech in itself does imply Asriel had a hard time looking at Chara’s flaws. Unfortunately the audience is even worse than Asriel about this, so Asriel can’t even have his two minute speech where he is able to admit to himself Chara wasn’t always right and he wasn’t always treated well.

A wish

I used to wish all the time that there would be a DLC where you could actually save Flowey but that dream is dead. Sometimes I still hope the next game Toby is working on will touch on him in some way but I kinda doubt it

An oh-god-please-dont-ever-happen

The worst possible has happened to him. Guess it could be worse but it’s still pretty sad. No Mercy route is my ‘oh god please dont ever happen’

5 words to best describe them

Mischievous, codependent, troubled, empty, tragic

My nickname for them

Asriel. Az, Azzy

Toriel

Why I like them

Interesting? I feel like she’s this caregiver who loves children and is given some complexity beyond that. Like Lisa’s Terry, they take a ‘tutorial’ character and make them an emotional centre of the game. It’s like... this character who is normally set up to impede you in some way in both games. And while embodying the handholding of a tutorial, Toriel is someone who you don’t want to speed by or treat callously even though she is set up to be what is ‘frustrating’ in a game. Many people who first play have a hard time leaving her behind, it’s this interesting? Not sure if subversion is the word, but it’s definitely an interesting way to play with the concept of the tutorial and have it be an active and emotional part of the story.

Why I don’t

I wish we’d been able to have a bit more of an ongoing dialogue with her or check up on her at some points. I really wish that we’d been able to dig into her a bit more deeply or see her thoughts on a few things...

Favorite episode (scene if movie)

Her final confrontation with Frisk is my favourite part, right before they leave the ruins. After that it’s her running into Sans and being able to have a nice meeting with someone she’s known for a long time but never met proper. It’s nice to see them both get a chance to be a little goofy and happy.

Favorite season/movie

Not applicable.

Favorite line

“It would not be right for you to grow up in a place like this. My expectations... My loneliness... My fear... For you, my child... I will put them aside.” “Pathetic, is it not? I can’t even save the life of a single child.”

Favorite outfit

The purple one.

OTP

I like Soriel. I honestly just felt they had something? (also the game... literally implies such) They’re both these lonely people, and idk... part of the reason I do like romantic soriel is because I dislike a lot of the vibe of.... ‘Toriel’s divorced and had a family break apart, so she must always stay a divorced sad mother who is untouched from all other relationships’ I’m good with their relationship in all capacities, but the way people act about the kind of flirty dialogue at the end being this big TABOO just strikes me as off.

Brotp

On that thread, soriel. I totally dig interpretations where they are throwing wine parties with each other. In a few neutral ends the two end up living together which is interesting to me, I feel like that’s a mostly unexplored topic. Though I guess that topic is a bit bittersweet. I feel exploring them as platonic or close in different ways is interesting too

Head Canon

- It was a long time before she was able to make snail pies, butterscotch pies, after her children died and she left Asgore. For awhile she lived on the Underground’s fast food equivalent because she couldn’t find the energy to cook anymore. It had been zapped out of her. - When the first child fell down it ignited this chamber inside of her and it was the first time she’d been able to cook in awhile. - She’s better at being active when there’s people to do things FOR, and struggles with doing things for herself - Since she’s a little monster made of dust, there was probably a lot of her childhood where she maybe wasn’t quite sure what to settle as gender wise and she really got into the concept of femininity in her teens and became very confident using she/her then

Unpopular opinion

The framing of a lot of arguments against Toriel dating bother me. If she wants to date, let her. Also I feel like Toriel can’t EVER win! People are either like... she didn’t do enough to prevent children from leaving the ruins or ‘she’s kidnapping children and restricting their freedom!’ (despite the fact we know she was never able to keep ANY of them for very long) I even literally saw a post recently that suggested part of the reason Chara was upset in the underground was because Toriel prevented them from leaving the ruins which is like? No? It’s made super obvious that’s a reaction Toriel has to kids dying in the underground. Also. It’s great to have nuanced views on Asgore, but any argument that goes ‘Toriel hiding away from the responsibility of keeping Asgore from killing kids is just as bad as , idk, killing kids’ has a rotten argument. Both of them made mistakes. Maybe part of it is a bias on my end that if Tori, with her sharp personality, had been a child murderer and Asgore had retained his soft nature and had been too sad and lonely to stop her, I just don’t feel the same criticisms would be being made. But who knows!

A wish

That she’s happy forever after and is a great teacher and adopts other kids and has good things happen to her and restores her relationship with her son (Flowey)

An oh-god-please-dont-ever-happen

Idk, bad things have already happened to her. I’m not fond of her and Asgore getting back together (I think it’s for the best they split ways and heal on their own for a bit) but I’m not like Oh God No or anything.

5 words to best describe them

Dutiful, caregiver, grieving, punny, lonely

My nickname for them

Tori

#replies #necromin #thank u sweet ducks #a chance to ramble

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zenosanalytic · 7 years

Text

DS9: Season 2 Doldrums

DS9 S2E 5-7(Cardassians, Melora, Rules of Acquisition) are Infuriating.

Their Premises aren’t actually bad:

Cardassians is about Cardassian war-orphans left on Bajor because 1)Cardassian culture takes a “fuck ‘em” approach to anybody unfortunate enough to lose/get separated from their parents and presumably 2)they’re interspecies children; this doesn’t get mentioned in this ep, but I can’t imagine the Cardassians would have taken half-Bajoran kids when they withdrew

Melora is about a scientist from a “low gravity” planet(that idea bugs me because it assumes life-bearing worlds are generally earth-sized, and thus, earth gravity is “standard”, but idk what else you’d call it |:T) assigned to DS9 for a survey mission in the Delta Quadrant.

Rules of Acquisition is about a female Ferengi masquerading as a male to escape the misogyny of Ferengi society and pursue a life in business who happens to be working for Quark when the Nagus brings him a unique opportunity.

And their execution isn’t universally terribly, either, but each has something about it that’s so frustrating/off-putting that it soured whatever was enjoyable about the episodes for me.

Caradassians is probably the best of the bunch. It’s built around this Cardassian boy named Rugal, who was left during the withdrawal and adopted at a very young age(4-6 it seemed like) by Bajoran parents, who raised him as a Bajoran(aside from the obvious Talks about how he looks different and how to deal with people who are mean to him for his heritage, obvsl). In summary, Gul Dukat plots to have him brought to the station to create a diplomatic incident to be used as an excuse to repatriate the boy as a way to embarrass his Cardassian “father”, Kotan Pa’Dar, of the Civilian government, thereby short-circuiting an investigation into crimes committed during the Occupation and discrediting the Civilian government in general. The plot’s very convoluted, but Bashir and Garak get to be sleuths and that’s super-fun to watch. It ends up being the case that Rugal was kidnapped by Gul Dukat from his family’s home after a resistance attack on it(raising the question of what, exactly, Dukat knew of that attack, and if it was carried out by Bajoran resistance at all or simply made to look as such; there’s an implication that Pa’Dar was opposed to the Occupation even when he was part of the colonial government there. Questions never examined further, unfortunately) and placed in a Bajoran orphanage, leaving Pa’Dar to think he had also been killed. Since he wasn’t dead, Pa’Dar leaving without him would be considered abandonment in the eyes of the Cardassian public given how much they care about Family(who, again, don’t give a single shit about all the Cardassian kids with no living relatives willing to claim them they left on Bajor), and that’d end his political career.

What annoys me about it is the transparent insincerity of the Starfleet officers’ concern for Rugal‘s opinion about the whole thing. There’s alot of platitudinizing that what ultimately matters is what Rugal wants, regardless of what the inquiry discovers, but the ep literally ends with a voice-over of Sisko saying his Cardassian “father” is “obvsl the real victim in all this”, and Starfleet handing him over to Pa’Dar with zero input from Rugal. Rugal’s real parents, the Bajorans who raised him, are nowhere to be seen and, iirc, don’t even speak at all in the second half of the ep. The Bajor government has zero input in any of this. So yeah, it’s just really offensive.

The thing is, if this was presented as Sisko just coolly making the politically expedient and strategically correct choice(save the moderate’s career by preventing the case from going public while doubling his debt to you by handing over the son he thought was dead and wanted back) regardless of what Rugal wanted, it wouldn’t bother me as much; It’d be a good early example of the cold-blooded political and strategic savvy Sisko would become known for. What really bugs me is that the sheer duplicitous sanctimony of their protestations to care about what Rugal wants are never presented or treated as such, even as they, in the end, hand him over like a poker chip. Oh, and also there’s this scene about O’Brien’s hatred of Cardassians and Keiko’s wrong-headed awkward do-gooderism ham-fistedly squashed in there that they really didn’t need.

Melora presents Melora’s natural lower-gravity biology as a disability and illness, which right off the bat was annoying. She’s not sick, she’s just from a different density planet from everyone else. Usually she uses a servo-harness and anti-grav chair to get around that won’t work for some McGuffiny reason so they have to put her in a wheelchair instead. But here’s the thing; why wouldn’t she just be in an anti-grav harness? The Fed uses Synthetic gravity Fields, so one could imagine a harness which generates a “filter” field around her, lessening the gravitons she’s exposed to to natural levels for her and thus allowing full mobility. Hell, depending on how Synthetic Grav fields work, I wonder if one could not simply program the central computers to weaken the field as it applies to her or her surroundings, keying the reduction to her comms badge or lifesigns. Or, given that there’s at least one whole planet of Federation members for whom low-grav is natural(and realistically if there’s one there’s gotta be more low grav worlds), why don’t they, IDK, have low-grav-exclusive crews? I mean, they clearly have the tech to not have to segregate like that, but it’s another solution that the writers choose to avoid by just deciding Melora’s species generally has no desire to leave their homeworld(so how’d they become warp-capable, DS9 writers???)

The show does a good job, for it’s time, presenting ableist-induced frustrations(from Bashir modifying her chair without informing her or asking her consent, to Jadzia implying Bashir knows “her condition” better than she does, to Sisko treating her desire to have her agency and opinions respected like those of any officer as essentially ridiculous, to stupid unnecessary frames jutting out every-goddamn-where in the station due to absurd Cardassian architectural tastes in Bulkhead design, to people assuming she must be sheltered and ignorant of galactic cultures because she’s “fragile”, to people babying her for the same reason, to random do-gooders wanting to “fix” her, to ect ect ect). The problem is, almost invariably, the show comes down on the ableists’ side, presenting her objections as unwarranted acts of rudeness meant to keep the world away(again: she grew up in a frigging low-grav culture where EVERYONE IS JUST LIKE HER! YOU GUYS ARE THE WEIRDOS TO HER!!! WHY WOULD SHE HAVE THESE PERSONALITY TRAITS!X4). It even has this weird pixie-dream girl element where she’s super-agile and strong and able to “fly” in low-G(which, if everything on her planet is evolved for low-g, why would they have the muscle mass to fling themselves into the air and stuff as Earth-G people do on the moon? Idk, maybe this makes sense scientifically, but it bugged me), which she teaches Bashir how to do because, of course, he immediately starts hitting on her and she totally goes for it once he proves his “brilliance” by jerkily eviscerating her distancing techniques. So you can see why I disliked it.

Then it ends with the survey being accomplished in a single ep(like, 3 or 4 days at most), which is stupid. And there’s this sub-plot about a partner Quark betrayed seeking revenge, which inevitably ties into the main-plot and I’m meh about that. And, of course, Bashir never mentions this deeply intimate romance, for the sake of which he developed an entirely new “treatment” for gravity intolerance off the discredited theories of an obscure medical researcher -which insultingly locates her physical difficulties in her brain rather than lower-density bones and muscles, a low-grav body plan, and a metabolism, equilibrium, and body-chem adapted for lower-g- ever again. Yeah.

Rules of Acquisition, of course, makes the female Ferengi, Pel, fall in love with Quark. This is the first ep she’s ever been in, and no reason is ever given for why she’d feel this way about him. Everything she does is, of course, driven by her love for him, and not a desire to gain profit, or prove herself, or any other personal ambition. The ep is filled with lines written for Jadzia to say justifying, excusing, or treating as a joke, misogyny.

Just: either get rid of Jadzia’s excuse-making for Ferengis, or make Ferengi misogyny less pervasive, as they do in much later eps with Rom and(to a lesser extent) Quark.

Pel really should have been intro’d earlier and been a recurring character for a time, with her gender being revealed in this ep. I also don’t get why Ferengi women would have such softer, more melodious, non-scratchy, non-nasal voices compared to the men. Having her natural voice BE her Male!Pel voice, or at least very close to it, would have made the point about gender equality far better.

If there was going to be a romance in it that needed to be developed(preferably over many eps); Pel needed to have a reason for being drawn to Quark, even if it was just “I think he’s sexy”. Personally, I’d like it if -behind his sleazy bluster- Quark(and Rom) was actually less misogynistic and creepy towards women than most Ferengi men as a result of his mother(though still with lots of room to grow), and willing to take hits to his business to stand, in evasive ways, for those principles, and that this was at least in-part why Pel found him endearing.

Pel’s primary motivation ought to be that of any Ferengi -making profit to achieve social status and personal power- with any attraction to Quark coming second, though still personally important enough to prevent her from betraying him.

Pel is responsible for nearly every success they achieve in this ep and Quark really needs to be written as less hapless, which is honestly a problem with his characterization in general. In one ep, Quark is dealing hard-nosed and unflinchingly with the worst kinds of galactic scum(though he hates violence and tries to prevent it, which is a consistent characteristic I love for him, and which Shimerman does a wonderful job of both presenting, and presenting Quark’s attempts to hide and feelings of ambivalent pride/shame over it), and the next he’s grovelling and incompetent before the merest aggression and resistance. I’m not saying he shouldn’t be a physical coward(that’s an important bit of his character and it works), he just needs to have a tolerance for menace appropriate to the line of work as a black-market Fixer and Mastermind that he’s chosen for himself. Plus, I don’t really buy that Pel as presented, with her intense dedication to the Rules of Acquisition and business acumen, would find someone as out of his depth as Quark in this ep attractive. Of course she shouldn’t have to, since Quark is SUPPOSED to actually be a good entrepenuer, hampered by his occasionally quixotic bouts of ethical behavior, but the writers just can’t help writing in these “funny” scenes of Quark being useless.

The plot is actually sort of decent for this one, though Rom’s rather immediate jealousy doesn’t make any more sense than the other things which needed long-term building up to work in this ep. Maybe the discovery of her gender could be accomplished some other way? Perhaps have the Nagus screw them at the end of the deal and have Pel throw her lobes in his face out of rage as he’s compligloating at them about their acumen in realizing his true objective and brokering the meet? Or maybe have Quark accidentally discover her gender in this ep, decide to keep it quiet, then have them both present in a later ep for the Dominion negotiations and have the Dominion agents reveal it out-of-hand half-way through, without realizing the difficulties they’ve put her in(maybe as bred merchants, they have an acute sensitivity to biochemistry or something and can just smell that she’s very likely female). I really like that possibility, because it’d put the Nagus in the position of having to keep her on to finish the negotiations, both for her aptitude and the chance that kicking her off would offend the Karemma, and it’d set up an exit for the character that would be a clear step-up for her; maybe the Nagus, to avoid personal embarrassment and because the Karemma connect with her so well during the negotiations, decides to make her his Delta-quadrant-side silent factor, working through Quark; an effective exile that hides the importance of a female to one of his greatest deals, but still leads to huge profits and a notable position of importance for her. This would also give a good reason for her to pop up as a guest character in later episodes.

#Star Trek #ST: DS9 #DS9 S2 #DS9: Cardassians #DS9: Melora #DS9: Rules of Acquisition #zA's Outside Viewing #zA's Trenchant Literary Criticism #Long Posts #DS9 Rewrite

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likeadiamondfrost · 7 years

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1-30 you know what this is. R I P GOD SPEED

[ meme here ][[ yeah I tried to limit myself, but you know. ONLY FOR YOU … 😘 Also sorry this is super duper long ;A; ]]

1. Abandonment [ why is the first one? ]

The sinking feeling settled in her stomach; a lead brick of the inevitable. The rise and fall of her chest was rapid, near hyperventilating rates, as she remained— rather struggling to do so—composed. Gone. She couldn’t say she wasn’t surprised, sure as hell they’d jinxed after all. The sting in her eyes was pushed back, smooth flesh melding into cold, hard diamond. Easier this way, she thought in the reassurance of herself more than anything. Easier to face the onset numb and emotionless than break. The trembling of her hand ceased as it fisted her blanket, the feeling of abandonment digging in deeper followed by a wave of cool detachment. Never again. Never would she let herself fall prey to delusions of grandeur.

This was awful, she’d almost forgotten the sting of it all. A bitter laugh escaped her at the thought. Emma Frost knowing anything but this, this pit, was comical. Another stolen glance at her phone followed another crushing wave beneath the cold exterior of her body. It didn’t help. The numbness, the imperial facts made it worse. She could see it all played out in her mind. Maybes playing out for her, none of it did her any good, of course.What was done was done. It didn’t change the fact. That was the moment she felt alone, shattering any perception otherwise.

2. Acceptance

She was silent for a moment, words settling in her mind and skin before she could think of speaking, choosing her words carefully, “I don’t care, Scott…” a pause, “I accepted this—dark and scary, driven and persuasive, doubtful and strong, unable to express yourself—along time ago. Doesn’t change how I feel…”

3. Adoration [ this is weird emotion when not related to religion, just saying.]

There was silent for a moment, a hush over the room, as cold fingers moving over the ridges of his hands, worn and heavily used. Feather light touches, over the knuckles toward his arm, as it rose and fall with his breathing. Her chin resting on his chest, besides the hand, she looked up at him, his face relaxed, eyes closed ruby quartz discarded on the bedside table, hair slightly ruffled from turning his head. It was lovely, serene even. The devotion, no—that was too strong for the moment—the affection, no—too weak a word—the adoration—that fit best but not quite as well—for this simple, ordinary man clearer the longer she stared.

4. Afraid

She often wonders if he is just as afraid of this as she is; if he thinks the same things she does but she can’t bring herself to ask. As if asking makes it even more ludicrous she’s scared. It strikes her at moments when she can’t sleep, and the world is forced through her head. It’s the uncertainty of this all that has her gripping all the tighter. She knows how these things end, and she afraid to admit that she’s not ready for the crash and burn. She’s not willing to see it burn up in smoke and hellfire. She doesn’t tell him these things cross her mind, his shoulders are heavy enough without her heaving doubts upon them. She often wonders if this is what it’s supposed to be like. That having that nagging doubt, the self-sabotaging pattern she so quickly falls into is just the natural way it works. She wouldn’t know, of course, it’s all very raw, new and dangerous with him. She often slips into delusions that she could be that girl for more than just one night, more than just one fling for someone as she often was before him. But she’s not, its just buried and latent with him or so she thinks. She’s the girl you seek when you’re lonely and drunk. She’s the woman you call when you want something handled quietly. She’s the passing fling and that one wild night. She was toxic. Everything she touches, ever ounce of happiness is fleeting because she gets scared it won’t last. A part of her makes sure it doesn’t last. And perhaps eventually it’ll happen with him as well.

She thinks of all of this while silently beside him. Listening to his breathing, feeling an arm wrap around her. It’s a comfort, but still, she’s afraid, and he’ll never know.

5. Aggravated

A huff in aggravation was all she gave him, chosen as it was better than speaking what she wanted to say.

6. Amazed

For a moment she stared in awe motionless, blinking several times to grapple with the feeling that he hadn’t pushed her away, pitying look aside, heart laboring in her chest. “Come here” He’d asked, hands tugging on hers to bring her into his chest. Apparently, you could surprise a telepath. She blinked simply amazed at him. “W-what?” She stared bewildered and dazed, blinking several times as if this was a dream as if maybe she’d made him say it.

7. Amused

She tried to muffle the laugh as it bubbled from her but a few giggles slipped out as he reentered the room. A slow clap and she couldn’t help the amused smirk on her face. “Little flat on the chorus, darling. Maybe pick a different song besides Let It Go.”

8. Angered [ throwback to shattered Emma, that doesn’t actually apply but eyyyy technicalities and deal with it ]

Silence engulfed them as they stared at each other, her anger bubbling just below the surface as his displayed in the tick of a jaw or coil of a muscle as a hand raked through his hair. She didn’t need this now. After everything, she’d just gone through? Sure, she understood his side of things, it was hard not to, but that didn’t mean he was in the right. All she had ever tried to do was protect him, protect all of them, and he was the one who was angry? He was fuming in the corner, back to her now as she glared. “Get. Out.” It wasn’t a yell or a scream, no it left her lips in a quiet fury of demand. She was done with the conversation and attempting calm level-headedness on the hospital bed, feeling achy and tired and broken. She didn’t need him to remind her what a bang-up job she’d done, what a bloody mess the world had become. She knew already. He’d done his job, that was what mattered. She didn’t look at him them, couldn’t stomach it. “I said get out!” She hissed when he hadn’t moved.

9. Anxious [ like future them…5+ years? Idk roll with it ]

Gnawing at her bottom lip, Emma swallowed the lump in her throat. Unease was not a good look on her, and it showed. Every time doctor made a slight noise neither confirming or denying it her heart dropped. She was going to be sick, the sting of bile slowing crawling up her throat. He wasn’t there though…He was outside, mind flurrying just as fast as hers, pacing back and forth, pressing against her but she doesn’t let him in. Doesn’ rummage through his either. Maybe we’re ready, right? But– It’s a flashing neon sign. But everything. But what if this or that, flashes across her mind, making it all that more real.

The snap of rubber gloves draws her back into the sterile room. Wide eyes and feigning a calm expression, Emma met the smiling face of the doctor. She’s not ready for the news she realizes. She’s not willing to think, to hope that maybe this is it. She can’t ignore the flutter at the possibility—one she foolishly buys into, as she scolds herself to remind impassive—that this is it. All the years of considering it a different life then she wanted was given. But she had wanted it, how many times as a little girl had she fantasized it until she had that fantasy come crashing down, and she had to come to terms it wasn’t for her. And that that was okay. That was someone else life. A different Emma. All the arguments late at night that leave her licking her wounds alone in bed, or walking to somewhere unknown to cool down and give him space. He didn’t understand why it was such a heated topic and she couldn’t express it eloquently enough to make him. It boils down to fear, anxieties and being overwhelmed.

Her fingers twisted around each other on the paper gown as she sat there. “…And?” She didn’t have the guts to read the doctor’s mind. That would be too quick to end the suffering. A little anxiety never killed anyone, right? Body tense with anticipation for the blow that would never come. She hates crying; she finds it’s just a silly thing to do but with her hand on her mouth, hiding the smile, she feels the pinpricks of tears. She hears the shuffle of feet across the floor not looking away from where her gaze has settled before his mind brushes hers. She doesn’t go much further than that as her mind stretches and thins, going every which direction in mere moments with everything that needed to be done. An endless list that made her heart thud and stomach drop. Their lives were dangerous, and threats loomed over them. What kind of people were they bringing a life into the world like that? How selfish could she be to not care? She doesn’t need to see his face to know he’s going every possible outcome( good and bad ), it’s the way his mind works. “We are so screwed…” She managed a gargled laugh, body still tense with a worry of what if’s and could be’s because she can’t help it.

10. Aroused

He did something to her. Electricity in her veins, goosebumps spreading like wildfire at the breath on her neck. Blood boiling in a way she couldn’t explain. Featherlike touches ignited a hungry that never seemed to be truly seated around him. All he had to do was touch her, and she was back there heart racing. And then he was gone, standing at the foot of the bed, replacing his shirt from the day before making ready to leave.

He was killing her. And she loved every blissful moment of torture. Lips pulled up in a smirk she looked at him., knees pressing into the mattress as she moved toward him. “Skip class.” Her fingers pulled at the drawstrings of his sweat, tugging him toward her. “Call in sick, play hooky” She pleaded smirking, bottom lip sucked between her teeth as she pulled him even closer. “I think you might have caught a cold and the girlfriend that I am has to nurse you back to health.”

11. Ashamed [ set during that mind thing we need to finish.]

She couldn’t look at him. Couldn’t meet his eyes, even if they were shielded from her. It ran deep this time, she was disgusted with herself more than he seemed to be. She had chosen to follow Shaw. Had agreed to the terms and conditions without hesitation. Chosen that life, would do it again because what other life was there for her? Shaw had opened a door for her, and she the naive, desperate girl had followed him through it. Selling her soul to the silver tongue devil. That didn’t stop the burn of shame she felt showing him what had gone on past those closed doors. Flashes of tangled bodies, the smell of alcohol and cologne, the hedonistic rules they all lived by, but worst of all was when she sat there, sipping champagne after being chosen for White Queen over Rebecca and Anne.

They had been her friends, like sisters she’d never had, and the sweetest of rivals and he’d corrupted them one by one. In his words teaching them to play, his rules and his game. They’d been so close but that hadn’t mattered to her then. When Shaw had leaned over toward her, whispering in her ear sending shiver racing down her spine ( at the time they had been welcomed) so much they still burned with the sounds ‘Do you want to be a Queen?’, She had that quiet triumph on her face and a smug ‘I don’t find that too disagreeable.’ Not gloating but the victor in all sense of the word. But there was a catch. Always a price to pay. Always too steep. One she’d eventually own up with her life when the time came. They had been her friends, they’d shared everything from makeup to fear and hopes and dreams, but she’d known then what she could see now. They were always in the way of her goal. Always the competition. He never intended it any other way. Pick. Like a sophie’s choice who live and who died. ‘Frankly, I can’t bring myself to care either way’ it echoed around her, reverberating off the walls of her mind. Those were her words, she frankly couldn’t care either way. And it had been true at that moment. She could feel the guilt wrap around her as if it had arms. Cold and dead.

She couldn’t face the memory as the wet noises echoed around them. Couldn’t look at her old self as she sat there on the throne like chair, legs crossed sipping the inferior Bordeaux as if it were another day. And it was. Just another day, as far as she was concerned.

“Now you know…” she spoke to the ground. It wasn’t what he did to her that the emotion sprung from, it wasn’t even what he had made her do. It sprung from the fact that it was what he made her want to do. She’d grown since then. Coming here under false pretenses, all the while using it as an escape from Shaw. She never intended to stay long, the dutiful White Queen needed her Black King—until she didn’t. Until she’d found something better. “There are days I can’t look at myself in the mirror because I know what I’ll see when I do.” It’s not something she can openly admit to him, the words are forced and take minutes to come out. It’s her weakness, her burden to carry.

12. Awe

Somehow this was what she wanted. Where she wanted to be. Bugs and God knew what else crawling around under them, she didn’t care. She turned to look up at him, nestled against him as the fridge air whipped past them. The tension eased in his features, a smile fighting to make way onto his face. Dare she say it was worth whatever had just moved over her pants leg. This, this with his was worth it. It settled deep inside her. And that was far more astonishing than the view. “It really is beautiful” She murmured gaze up toward the sky as purple and green flashed and danced across the sky. She’d been all over the world, and nothing was quite as awe-inspiring at what he’d showed her.

13. Betrayed

It was a dull throb now. Turning worse and worse, of course, when she gave it more thought. She’d trusted him, let him in, and this was what she was left with? A hole where a frozen heart should be. Served her right for being so careless with her emotions. “I trusted you!” It’s not a scream though she wants to. She had trusted him with everything, and it was in shambles.Shattered on the floor between them. Icy gaze like daggers at his back as he turned away from her. A hand fisted at her side. “Go to hell.” She wants to scream at him, but she doesn’t form the words.

14. Bitter [ k yeah IDK what this is… ]

“I-No I’m not bitter” The word burned on her tongue as she stood there, arms crossed, “I’m just a little upset that Cordelia was invited to it and not me. I think I get to be…” She tossed the paper down on the bed looking at him. “If I were bitter, I would go and make a fuss. I have no intention of doing so, so ha.” She had every intention of doing so.

15. Blissful [ we getting sappy now. ]

This was it. All the planning, all the bridezilla moments with Ty, tears when things hadn’t gone perfectly (she blamed Cordelia on that account), and it all led to this exact moment. Her hand snaked down the front of the gown. No, she wasn’t nervous that had come hours before as her hair set in curlers and she talked with the bridal party. The forceful back and forth, the pacing in front of the mirror, as the doubts of everyone, including him echoed in her head. She wanted to shut it off. Just for one damn day. Her day. But the moment she’d seen herself dress, hair styled, makeup in place it all felt right. Felt where she needed to be. For once, she thought she’d done something right and had mainted it.

She could hear them down on the grounds; the melodic quartet playing was dull as it filled the open air outside. She rocked slightly on her heels. A quick check over the bridal party, stopping to fix Ty’s ineptitude at tying his tie, and she was looking at them all. She shared a knowing look with the girls, who were behaving as well as she could ask. Celeste and Esme were fiddling with their bouquets witty remarks only being shared mentally and not verbally. Baby steps.

A shallow breath left her, and the onset of panic bloomed. When had she gotten like this? She wondered hearing the procession music start. Now or never. Fight or flight. She was inches from the door, could slip out and not a soul would know. As tempting as it was, one glance at Cordelia’s spunky hair and a thumbs up, Emma bit the inside of her cheek. Why’d she let her join, she wasn’t sure. Something about family, need to have some blood family there to rpove a point. Not that her blood family mattered. She’d replaced them with everyone else who sat in the white chairs on either side of the asile. For a second she closed her eyes, breathing slowly, feeling the gruff hand thread through her arm. Well, he was certainly old enough to be her father, she thought with a wicked smile. He’d slice her to ribbons when if he knew. She nodded to the unasked question.

All eyes on her, Emma held her chin high, white roses in hand, as she moved gracefully down the aisle. The crowded faded away the closer she drew gaze locked on him. This was what bliss felt like.

16. Bored

She sighed, long and drawn out. How many times had she read the same passage of this paper? Her brain was turning to mush. “How much longer,” She whined head tilting back to meet his headboard, “I’m hopelessly bored, and you should fix that.” She spared him a side glance smiling.

17. Breathless

The sound of gasping laughter filled the room, followed promptly but a strangled scream to be released and how it wasn’t funny. It wasn’t that funny, as tears collected in the corner of her eyes as she fought to capture his hands and stop his fingers from playing against her exposed ribcage and stomach. Her knees moved to block him from hovering, but it was to no avail. Her abs hurt, not from his fingers tickling her, bt from laughing so hard. “Scott!–“She whined trying to curl herself inward, rolling on her side to get away from him. “I can’t breathe…I can’t breathe” The laughter had died down as she panted to find her voice, his hands holding her hips, broad smile looking down at her. A sigh of relief left her “I hate you.” She stated breathlessly smile still on her face

18. Cheerful

She sat at the edge of the bed, kicking off her cheer shoes. Maybe it was the exercise or the fact that for once the day hadn’t been all headaches, SHIELD and stupid people that had left her in a cheerful mood. She bounced slightly on the mattress toward him. “Miss me?”

19.Comfortable

A content moan left her as the smell of coffee grounds hit her nose. Hair haphazardly tossed into a bun, she staggered out of her room tugging down his shirt over her torso, sweats bagging on her. As much as she hated them, they were by far more comfortable than anything she owned. Not that she’d ever tell him that. If he asked it was the first thing she grabbed after her shower. Not a complete lie.

“Mmm, you know me too well…Unless this was for someone else?” She smiled, knowing it wasn’t before slipping into a seat at the counter, lifting the steaming cup to her lips eyes on the toast before her. It was more than just the clothing she realized she was comfortable with. But she shook those thoughts away as she took a long inhale of the steam and fragrance of coffee. Accepting she had gotten comfortable with someone was a big step, and she wasn’t going to ruin the moment.

20. Concerned [ this…probs more comic canon Or a mission gone bad idk ]

“Scott?” It’s a tentative plea for acknowledgment, one she doesn’t wait for the answer to before pushing the door open. It makes sense, and she understands, but that doesn’t ease how she feels. She sits beside him as he rubs at his eyes. Hands dropping in front of him, his head hangs. He hasn’t spoken to her yet, hasn’t even looked at her. But she knows he will eventually. When he’s done picking apart what just happened, analyzing it, and then berating himself that he could do better. A few new bumps and bruise decorate the side of his jaw and hands, she feels them as her hand slides over them. She can’t say anything to him to make it better or ease the pain or make sense of it all. He wouldn’t expect her too. But that doesn’t make the knot in her stomach lessen, or the creases that have formed as her lips thin into a line of concern go away. “You’re only human.” She offers, before her hand is moving his chin toward her forcing him look at her, needing him to understand that people make mistakes, people die and there isn’t a damn thing one can do about it to make it better. She’s worried about him, worried about what it’ll do to him later if left alone.

21. Confident

She’s leaning against the table, one leg bent the other planted on the ground, arms folded over her torso. He’s talking beside her, facing the other direction in a room full of others. She’s not listening to a word he’s saying, but that’s not what’s important. It’s how he’s saying it. The others in the room and still, hanging on his words, diligently following along, she can feel their minds pressed against her own. But she doesn’t care about that either. Her head turns toward him, slightly, a slight smirk on her face. He exuded confidence outwardly, but inwardly doubts swam, her hand dropped to his, sliding over it wordlessly. She’d heard this before as he mumbled what he was going to say. A squeeze in reassurance. ‘Show them what it means to be a leader, darling ‘ She whispered to his mind sure to show him just how assured she was in his ability to be just that.

22. Confused

“I—wait what?” She asked, head poking out from behind the partially closed door, the cap of her mascara held squarely between her teeth. Her brow knitted in concentrating trying to make sense of his words. She had heard him mumble about something or other, if she were honest she wasn’t exactly paying attention to focused on putting her makeup on to listen until he’d said the words ‘Gone…Alex… Stark’ Her brow arched the quizzical expression clear. “Yeah, no…say that again?”

23. Content

A sigh fluttered past her, head against his arm, eyelids heavy with sleep. Having spent far too much time in the sun, drinking, eating and laughing, Emma didn’t honestly care what else happened. She could hear Alex in the house, talking about food—ordering food?—something dealing with food. Dogs barking down the street and couldn’t get herself to move from the hammock. They probably should have moved inside. Should have at least made and attempt not to get so relaxed. After all, it’d been longer than five minutes they’d said.

Opening one eye to steal a glance, Emma softly chuckled at Scott completely out. She was far too content to move or think about moving. Alex could wake them later if he wanted.

24. Cruel

She was in a mood. Needless picking fights, goading anyone who dared breathe in her direction. Scott was no different. He could handle it though, deep down she knew it. She narrowed her gaze at him from over her computer screen. They’d had this fight a million times already, and it got them nowhere. “Why. Why do you have to do that?” She sighed almost in exasperation. “What makes you think that today, of all days, will magically be the day that I come on board huh?” The MacBook screen is lowered, so she’s not tempted to just ignore the conversation. “Look,” the laptop is now on the bed beside her, off her lap. A cold gaze leveled at him. “I get it. You’re…you, and there’s not a damn thing we can do to change that.” Her hand waved in the air at the aloofness of the words, because that wasn’t quite what she wanted to say. “But honestly, Scott, the stoic born leader shit might work with the rest of the staffers here but not me. I see right through to what it really is, you’re just bloody scare, a hesitant boy trying to fill a man’s shoes.” She’s unnecessarily cruel with her words, picking at the insecurities because he’s previous words had hurt—whether she admitted it or not—her. “So stop.” It’s a pointless argument and one she can’t bring herself to care about. She’s tired, and he’s tired and their fighting over silly things. Stupid things that didn’t actually matter.

25. Crushed [ i dont like these feelsy ones…..]

Sitting, legs folded over on another, she stares at him. The mattress bending to her weight and then his as she moves. Exasperation clear. “…no.” She had said. Not a question. Not a statement with some wiggle room to be budged. It’s a finality. Cold and hard. It crushes her to say it. To take the option off the table once again, they’ll revisit it eventually, but until then her answer is law. She can’t help the nature of her voice. The detached, unobtainable coldness that seeped in with the topic. It hurts her to admit it. And she knows he wants a family, she does too, but she can’t escape the reality of the problem. She was her father’s daughter…

His face falls before a hand scrubs down it. He’s crushed too, she can feel it as it washes over her. She can’t offer an explanation as to why. He wouldn’t understand—she assumes, never giving him a chance to—or try to find the silver lining in it all. “I-“ She sighed, “I’m sorry. Just…no.” She can’t put herself through that kind of grief. It’d break her. The false hope of having kids. She chews her lip. “We have a school full of children.” It’s her silly attempt at being reasonable. Having their own made all the difference in the world.

26. Dejected [ this, depressed and despairing are like the same damn emotion so soz they suck ]

“Don’t…please” She needs to deal with it on her own. The feelings boil inside and she can’t express it as she needs to. It shouldn’t have bothered her but dejection, with a heaping helping of guilt was a hard pill to swallow. She doesn’t want to hear words of comfort or lies it’ll be okay. She knows it won’t. There’s nothing that can make burying a student better. “I—I need time. Just, I have to process it.” She knows he feels it too. Heavy on his shoulders just as it sits on her own. Responsibility for it ever happening.

27. Delighted [ after this is sad crap.]

Laughter surrounds them. It comes easier with him, not faked or mustered to make others feel better about it. She lets the down feather filled pillow thwack into his chest slightly, shaking her head at the terrible pun that’s left his lips. She smiles nonetheless. This is how she wants to spend her birthday, tomorrow, she realizes. Not with many people. Big parties and galas will be there next year and the year after. No, this year she just wants to stay in, avoid the crowd and do nothing. She’s allowed to be delighted in him compliance of her request. Nothing big. Nothing fancy. No pressure to put on faces or pretend she liked half the people invited all the while hearing their thoughts about her. Backrubs and fingers trailing through her hair. Easy and simple. Just this, quiet and secluded. With him.

28. Delirious

She knows it isn’t real. It feels real, though. Not that it helps of course. Knowing one’s gone mad and accepting that are completely different things. The voices hurt. They scream. They whisper. They coax her to listen, even when she doesn’t want to let them in. She knows what it feels like to have someone rummage around in her head. She knows this person but can’t move past the paralytic nature of it all. This isn’t…real. What’s real is…she doesn’t know. Can’t push past the fog to find out long enough. She remembers something happening. A hiccup in some mission. But the reality of it all alluded her. The taste of diazepam, or some other sedative, fogs her mind and sleep beckons further on.

The long she sits there, hands clutching at her head, the longer she can feel it all sinking inside. Not her thoughts. Not her voice. Theirs. The faint sound of her name being called but can’t quite push past the fog. Can’t break the spell, maybe it’s the drugs, but she feels off. She wants to shift skins. Wants to change so she can sleep, can have her own thoughts. But she can’t. They bombarded her and she knows she’s thrashing about, can feel the weight of her muscles toss and turn. She can hear herself scream, cracking the cloud slightly. It burns, the hoarseness in her throat. But she’s submerged, floating from her body and not in it. Not experiencing the scene that appears in a smoke before her. These aren’t her thoughts, this isn’t real. But she’s trapped. The tightness in her head returns and she can feel the tears collect in her eyes. It’s like she fourteen again, the pain races down her spine. She wants the gone, but every attempt is sluggish. He’s there, glasses in hand fingers pinching his brow. Tired. He must be, she thinks before blinking in an attempt to drive it all away. To focus. To move past the delirium of it all. To separate reality from her mind, but it’s not working.

She blinks a few time, the fog receded. She wants to ask what happened. But the bed, the monitor, the feel of blood brushing her lip and it trickles down from her nose, the ache in her head is all she needs to know something bad happened.

29. Depressed

Depression wasn’t something Emma fell into often. It wasn’t something she liked to admit, but there were days. Days when she sat staring at the trinkets and objects students had given her—dead students—over the years. Silly things like mugs, cheap earrings from the mall and cards on her birthday. She kept them all these years because she’s sentimental when she wants to be. They were her students, after all. She was supposed to protect them. but you couldn’t protect them forever.

She can feel him as he approaches, worried about her locking herself in the office for hours now. They’d be buying another student tomorrow. Yet, she couldn’t bring herself to cry. It feels like a hopeless battle waging on. She looks up at him in the doorway, blinking furiously even though there aren’t any tears. The receiver of a phone in her hand, a neckless in other. “I hate this…” She says barely audible. She can feel the emotions sinking deeper, a darkness settling beneath alabaster skin as he moves toward her. She doesn’t want to call another parent to tell them. She’d had enough of that now. She doesn’t look at him as he leans against her desk. She’s sure if does, her composure will crumble.

30.Despairing [ welp this is this all very death of x. Y u do this? ]

When the casket lowers, she’s nowhere to be seen. She doesn’t belong down there, mourning the loss. She’d done that since it happened. She’ll give herself the time to grieve, to accept it for what it is. But it’s not the end. And she’ll make damn sure of that. She watches, gaze running over the faces below, black umbrellas hiding many of his students from the rain. She doesn’t know if it’s natural or if it’s Ororo’s doing. She doesn’t care. Lost in her head, she remembers the exact moment her hope was snuffed out and despair set in. She can see it play out in her reflection of the window.

Head in her lap, she’s crying freely now, a hand brushing the hair from his brow. She’s soft only for him, and it shows. She can hear the plea, her begging him to hold on. But even then she knows it’s too late. She’s not leaving him, that much is clear as she tries to ease his mind. To make sure he goes out peacefully. Rewriting moments that would only cause him greif even in death.

It’s the moment she feels it go blank that the world seemed to pause. Scott Summers dead. The words echoed around her, and she refuses to believe it happened so fast. She can hear the shouts of others around her. Calling for her, for them. The dust has settled, and she’s there, legs bent under her. No, she thinks as the shadowy figures move toward her. No, Scott Summers was more than just a man. It didn’t get to end like this, she thinks bitterly, letting her ash laced hair drape over their faces. Desperately, she clings to that fact as they rush to her aid and freeze laying eyes on the scene. “Are they-” The comment stops because she hasn’t lifted her head from where it’s pressed into his neck, and it’s clear. Head rising Emma looks to the others. “Ideas never die…” She mumbles as if he could hear her one last time, knowing he’d smirk at the loftiness. And that’s what he’d be. The idea—no he’d be hope for mutants everywhere when they needed it most. Scott Summers, the man who died, trying to do the right thing for his people. Scott Summers, who gave his life protecting the underdogs. That’s the Scott Summers everyone will remember, the face behind the idea or mutant movements world wide.

She gives the window and the scene below it her back.

#susummers #[ brevity is the soul of wit: MEME ]#[ there's more to life than rush. not gonna leave this place with us: s. summers ]#//and BOOM * drops the mic* that's how its done :D

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